#as the kid says. the exact fucking opposite. every time. and they just ignore it.

[mochapanda]

had the funniest fucking customers today

[flippedorbit]

if i get talked down to one more god damn time I’m leaving again. I don’t care that its fucking storming outside

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 2

Episode 2 starts days or maybe a week after episode 1. The curfews and phone ban is in place, so Wilhelm and Simon make the most of their one hour of phone sex talking.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm snapped a quick instant picture of himself and Simon at the palace in the last episode, using the camera we saw on his desk. The heart is still on his hand, so maybe it's the next day, or maybe he's been filling it in every day.

Cinematography: Intense red light typically symbolizes their mutual love, and this scene is overflowing with it.

Lost in translation: They both finish the phone call with "puss", which means kiss, but not exactly. It's more platonic, something you can say and do with your parents, or your kids, or end phone calls with. The other word for kiss, "kyss", is more romantic/sexual, and would be super weird to end a phone call with. Simon is using that word when he says he would kiss Wilhelm's collar bone birth mark.

Subtext: Of course Vincent doesn't believe anyone was bullied. He's the biggest bully, but what he does is just a joke, or the other guy deserved it. This is gonna be a recurring theme™ in this episode, how various characters look back on and remember, or choose not to remember, what happened to them.

Subtext: If you didn't pick up this meaningful glance, you're blind. The initiation porno was totally real, and Nils and August clearly remember it, and weren't as flippant about it as Vincent.

Culture: In Sweden, inner city schools are typically better and have richer students than the poorer schools out in the suburbs. This is the exact opposite of the typical US school demographical pattern.

Subtext: Wilhelm avoids Farima's question by evading it. Note that it does make sense that she doesn't know what's going on at these schools since she's an employee, she's not upper-class herself. Wilhelm's parents know though since they attended Hillerska, but they would of course never admit it either.

Culture: Ironically, this is exactly how the real-world Danish royal family handled the Herlufsholm scandal in 2022 involving prince Christian. Only when the media storm in Denmark got too intense did they pull him out of the school, while furiously denying knowledge of the abuse or that he was involved in any way.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, but the light is soft and golden, and the scene is just cute. No fight this time.

Subtext: We're touching the theme™ again, but from Simon's perspective. He has the same outsider perspective we have; speaking up about abuse is always good, and if the school's closing because of it, that's an obviously good thing. There's plenty of scenes in this episode showing that most Hillerska students don't share this perspective, they really love their school, as fucked up as it is.

Subtext: Although it sounds like a rehearsed PR line and Felice is thinking about her girl group here, it's gonna come true for her and Sara.

Subtext: Yuck. No further comment.

Cinematography: The immediate cut to Felice getting her aggressions out in gym class shows us exactly what she thought of what the principal said and how much it pissed her off.

Blink and you miss it: Simon audibly sniffs Wilhelm's hair.

Blink and you miss it: Micke made dinner for both of them, but in her depression, Sara ignores the cooked food (Pyttipanna, btw), and makes herself a cucumber sandwich instead.

Subtext: Micke is a man on a mission, and he is constantly steering the conversation towards helping Sara get her driver's license. For him, it's a way to make up for having been a shitty parent.

Culture: Sweden has long been a holdout of stick-shift cars, and if you don't do your practical test in a stick-shift, you'll get a restricted license, so it's not out of the ordinary for Micke to be teaching Sara how to drive one. However, automatics have seen a sharp rise in the last decade, and in 2024 automatics will finally overtake them.

Culture: The green ÖVNINGSKÖRNING sign is compulsory in Sweden if a car is being driven by someone on a learner's permit, with a parent or friend as the instructor. There's also a red version of the sign, which indicates it's a student driver with a professional instructor in a dual control car.

Cinematography: The room is filled to the brim with things to do, there's a bazillion board games, they have books, magazines, fidget thingies, they're drowning in stuff, and yet the girls are still soooooo boooored just because they don't have their phones. Except Madison, who is knitting.

Subtext: Here comes the theme™ again, and Fredrika is firmly in camp denial. Everyone else is just lying and exaggerating! The wheels are starting to turn in Felice's head though.

Subtext: Nils and August are finally talking about the initiation without Vincent being present, and they can finally be honest about what they actually thought about it. It happened, they didn't like.

Subtext: Their idea of fixing it however is not to go out publicly and talk about it, but to just quietly stop the tradition, hoping they'll be the last ones. (Since there are no second-year students in the show, we have no idea what happened to them, so we're just gonna ignore that.)

Subtext: And here comes the reason that August wanted to put a stop to it. He was completely humiliated by it, and he doesn't want anyone else to know that he was humiliated, because that just makes it worse. This is also the reason that traditions like this keep on going, no-one wants to blow the whistle on it, because everyone was abused, everyone was a victim, it's hard for abuse victims to speak up.

Cinematography: The talk with Nils triggered an anxiety attack for August, and being inside his small room doesn't exactly help. Him going so close to the camera that he almost bumps into it really shows how he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Culture: This, kids, is a standard Swedish landline telephone jack. For the longest time I thought phone jacks looked like this everywhere, but it turns out that this particular design was only used in Sweden and Iceland(!?!). You won't find these in newer buildings because landlines are pretty much dying out, and if there are phone jacks they'll probably be using the much more common RJ-11 standard.

Culture: This, kids, is an Ericsson Diavox phone. The former government phone monopoly in Sweden, Televerket, only allowed certified and approved phones to be used on the network, and they only approved a very small set of phones, so everyone had pretty much the same phones in their homes. However, in the 1980's the market started getting flooded with "illegal" phones from other countries, so the monopoly simply stopped enforcing the rule, and you could finally, finally, plug in that novelty Garfield phone that you always wanted.

Blink and you miss it: Sara is studying for her driving test, and she's reading about driving in the dark.

Subtext: We're gearing up for the main plotline of the season, dropping more hints that maybe Wilhelm's image of Erik wasn't complete, and what August says sows some seeds of doubt in him.

Subtext: This song is objectively not very good, please don't kill me, but it is very sixteen-year-old-boy-just-singing-from-his-heart, not thinking about the text.

Subtext: Simon isn't wearing anything purple, but just after he posts his song video, he picks up a purple shirt, drops it immediately, and then the camera lingers on it. Colour theory goes brrrrrrrr. He thought about Wilhelm, and then stopped because his music is more important to him or something?

Subtext: Unlike Simon, Wilhelm immediately understands how problematic the text is for him, and how people will interpret it...

Subtext: ...but since he doesn't want to hurt Simon's feelings, he lies about why he thinks the song was a very, very bad idea. And he cushions it by telling Simon that he thinks the song is jätte-jätte-bra. Giant-giant-good.

Subtext: Yes, but also no, and someone from the court really should have given Simon some media training and explained to him why he has to be very careful about what he posts. But it's drama fuel, which is why this disaster is allowed to happen.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to season 1, this is exactly what Erik told Wilhelm in the first episode, about making sure that their public image is carefully curated.

Subtext: That's some on-the-nose foreshadowing there, since Felice is one of the main causes for the school ultimately closing.

Subtext: We're back to the theme™, Fredrika is saying pretty much the same thing as Vincent. It didn't happen, and if it did, it wasn't that bad.

Subtext: However, Felice isn't playing along this time, she's starting to speak up about the issues, and the result is a long, awkward silence, because her friends are not willing to do the same.

Subtext: Wilhelm and the rest of the rich kids are of course all wearing pretty expensive high-end hiking gear, in contrast with Simon who is simply wearing one of his usual hoodies and his usual winter jacket that we've seen before. That's a damn fine jacket from Fjällräven, btw, the same company that makes the weirdly globally popular Kånken backpacks.

Blink and you miss it: Henry is getting dragged for his actually quite reasonable objection to the tent groupings.

Subtext: Felice physically distances herself from her friends, and joins Simon and Wilhelm, in a nice little foreshadowing of the show's ending.

Blink and you miss it: Did you miss the line in last episode where Ayub said they were also gonna go camping at Talludden with their classmates from Marieberg? Well, here they are, because they pitched their tents nearby, and decided to go check out the Hillerska camp. It's not just Rosh and Ayub randomly walking through the woods.

Subtext: In season 2, we learned that Stella has a crush on Fredrika that she thinks is one-sided, but Fredrika sure has some kind of reaction to seeing Stella being close with Rosh. Jealousy, perhaps? Not clear at this point in time.

Subtext: Read the room Fredrika, for fuck's sake. At least Wilhelm has started learning to recognize privilege. The other rich kids probably recognize their privilege, but they're mostly just enjoying how much better they are than the poor regular kids.

Subtext: But Wilhelm's still got a lot more to learn. Yes, technically he is forced to spend his summer studying, and technically it is a kind of work, but the underlying reasons are completely different. If he skips it or fails, nothing bad will happen to him, unlike the Marieberg kids who rely on their summer jobs to have any sort of spending money.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm's dad says that the queen is going to be "sjukskriven", which is more serious than someone deciding on their own to take some time off or to use some sick days. It means that a doctor has evaluated you and decided that you are not fit to work, and that if you're a regular person, you are eligible for sick pay for the foreseeable future.

Cinematography: Yeah, mommy is really sick and Wilhelm is feeling the weight of responsibility, but take a look at that sunrise! It's so pretty! Wilhelm is completely in shadow because trouble whatever, but look at how that light just pops, with the sky and the water and the sun on the trees! Beautiful!

[scrivenger-grimgar]

Every time I read Yiling Wei sect AUs and they start describing what the sect members and leader wears its like, (direct quote from The Yiling Wei Sect and the Black Robed Lan by IvoryDragon48)

"[Wei Wuxian's hair] was pulled up into a high ponytail by a red ribbon with a gold and silver headpiece ornamenting and helping to direct the flow of his hair. The robes he wore were expensive looking with black being the dominant color and reds as the accents. The inner robe was a red so dark it looked like blood and the outer robe had simple yet elegant designs."

--And like, I get the urge to make them really cool looking and with themes or designs matching the other sects but like??? there's massive wasted potential here!!!

First, the hair. that's all well and good, but there is no way in hell that the Yiling Wei folks (Wen Remnants and others reviled/ostracized by society at large) are going to buy a gold guan OR a silver guan. why the hell would they bother spending precious resources on trying to impress people who already don't like them for something they literally have no control over.

But Wei Wuxian would know that he has to play the game now that he has people to protect, and going to a Con as a Sect Leader and not doing what all the other sect leaders are doing (wearing guan to say "I'M BETTER THAN YOU!!") is essentially outright stating that he holds no respect for any of them except in a way that could get him and his people killed. so instead, he goes "fuck it" and makes a guan out of something incredibly ordinary, like iron or wood, so now if anyone brings it up he can say "Oh, well, I like feeding my kids." or "Actually, I made this myself, all the better for carving protective arrays into!"

--And that's it. Wei Wuxian is a street kid he absolutely knows that rich people don't like to think about poor people and that they prefer to ignore them or hurt them. except you cant just attack someone who's being perfectly reasonably polite in public, especially when you just pointed out that he's 'poor'. Wei Wuxian's strategy is make them so fucking uncomfortable that they leave us alone.

(This would of course be after several years of no contact and no fighting so things have cooled off a bit)

Next, robes. No expensive robes. Let them be very well modified normal robes that have subtle stains and colour bleaching from sunlight and washing. The (shown, non-array-work) embroidery is at best amateur level, and Wei Wuxian will proudly show it off, loudly saying "a-Ning started a while back to help with his fine motor skills, and he's really come such a long way!!" and that "Oh, Xuanyu started practicing only recently but he's already so good at it!"

The Yiling Wei are the exact opposite of Lanling Jin. Wealth is to be used to benefit everyone and everyone is to be loved and appreciated for their work. The refusal to spend money of frivolous things is strong, especially when its something you could make yourself.

Self Ornamentation would not be jade or gold or silver or silks. It would be some nice wood, these feathers from the bird that likes me, hey look at this cool rock I found I'm gonna polish it like a gemstone, I dug these awesome bones out of my grandmama's garden you think I can do anything with 'em?

Yiling Wei folks are death druids.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Honestly, one thing to bring up about canon: Adrien only gave his "high road" advice ONCE, when all Lila was doing was "lying about having disabilities" and Marinette seemingly got her Akumatized by obsessing over something that honestly wasn't a big deal, and he NEVER brings it up again after Lila starts targeting Marinette.

Also, the only reason he HELPS Lila is to basically try and negotiate to get her to leave Marinette alone. He does not bend over backwards to encourage her behavior.

Yet Salt Fics act like he lectures Marinette to "take the high road" every time Lila goes after her and was in fact doing whatever Lila asked of him from the moment she first showed up.

Which is just...

The exact opposite of what happens in canon?

Like, his advice makes PERFECT sense with the information he has access to. Eventually, if Lila really IS lying about her disabilities, she'd slip up and her entire house of cards would collapse around her. He doesn't know that Lila threatened Marinette, and Marinette didn't mention that when they talked about her after the fact.

Frankly, Marinette is lucky that nobody cut ties with her for apparently bullying a disabled kid over seating arrangements, because frankly, as someone who has been accused of faking PTSD for clout because the person I was arguing with REALLY wanted to win that argument we were having, Marinette was just looking like an ableist Karen.

Yeah no like.

I've discussed this extensively, but while lying is still 'bad'(especially lying about disabilities), as far as Adrien observed nothing that 'bad' is happening. The 'worst' thing that happened was the class rearranging to accommodate Lila's disability(which he has no proof is fake even if he doesn't believe the cause). It kinda sucks for Mari, but that's more on her for being last one to class so she couldn't pick her own seat. But that's a different conversation.

Adrien's advice isn't just 'take the high road and things will work out'. He says that her current actions are doing very little harm, so unless she starts causing harm, stay back and don't...... act like a madwoman scrutinizing someone's disability claims to the point she gets Akumatized.

Saltfics often went into ways that Lila's lies /could/ cause harm. Purposeful manipulation to turn them against Mari. Promising the class to get them all sorts of things with her 'connections'. Giving awful advice like that 'she tells Alya to toss her babysitting duties at Marinette' trope that was popular. And then these fics throw it in Adrien's face of 'see she is causing harm!!'

Completely ignoring that 1.) She hadn't been doing any of that before in Canon, and 2.) Adrien literally said 'if it gets worse then we do something' and that qualifies as 'worse' so he'd do something!

Swinging back to Mari:

Honestly though like. We the audience know Lila is probably lying about everything. But the class has little reason to doubt any of Lila's claims, especially the disability ones. And I actually applaud them for taking a disability claim at face value and helping with accommodations!

And yeah that's why the class is so mad at her in this episode. It's not 'how dare you question Lila!' it's 'girl you are foaming at the mouth trying to prove that the new student is faking a disability what the fuck is wrong with you'?

Especially because, thanks to Marinette's actions, the class fully believes this is about Adrien, not about Lila's hypothetical lies. Not just 'she sometimes goes nuts over Adrien' but her actions this very episode.

Remember the seating issue? Lila's new spot was next to Adrien. And when Marinette is raving about how Lila is faking and how she doesn't want to sit in the back, Adrien speaks up to try and help saying 'Okay, you can take my seat and I'll go sit in the back', prompting her to scream that no he has to stay there and Lila has to move.

So yeah she really made it seem to be all about Adrien without Lila even having to do shit.

[starlightandetherealshadows]

Hello! Feel free to ignore this, but I wanted to give my two cents about the MC's initial personality while playing. Now, this may be blunt, but at first, I was incredibly disappointed. Usually, I tend to play stoic/quiet MCs who don't lash or speak out, and it seemed to be quite the opposite to the distrusting and stoic mc in the game. However, I was thinking extremely hard about this, and I actually get why the MC was so outspoken, especially when V literally pointed a gun at them. Stoic and stubborn MC, from what I saw in the prologue, could easily be more nonchalant *before* the alien invasion, but that, obviously, changed. When C found them and brought them to the hideout, I didn't take into account that MC was in a vulnerable position, and I only focused on the part that MC hadn't interacted with another person in years. So, yeah, of course, MC may be overwhelmed, but their not gonna let people (V *cough*) walk all over them. I guess the thing was that I was so used to stoic MCs in IFs just standing on the sidelines and observing, but that is obviously not that kind of IF. The thing that had gotten to me the most, however, was the second-hand embarrassment of MC actually talking back to V after he blatantly insults them because I could never😭 I guess what I am trying to say is that even though I was seriously taken aback, none of the characters (including MC) are not gonna be 2-dimensional (as you have stated multiple times), and it has definitely grown on me, even if the MC was a little more of a fire-cracker than I expected. I am really looking forward to seeing where you take this story, and I will absolutely be eating it up because even if I might have to be tossing my phone across the room occasionally (bc my second-hand embarrassment is so easily triggered😭😭), I cannot get enough of your writing and characters!! I hope this made sense because I was just rambling about my take on if you are willing to make the MC a little more stoic or have some mute choices, which I am not against, but at the end of the day, I will still be reading the fuck out of Memento Mori! Have a good day/night!!! MWAH💋

Hi sunshine!

I appreciate your super-thorough analysis of both MC's personality and also your initial/developing reaction to it!

Just wanna offer some perspective on why I'm writing MC the way I am (you've already nailed a lot of the points but this is gonna be a succinct explanation from my head hehe)

MC is ultimately a fully fledged character in Memento Mori. While writing, I have about six different MC's in my head, each with distinct personalities, motives, and reactions to events. As I'm writing Ch. 2 in particular, I'm using these characters to influence the choices available and the stat checks necessary for certain actions. MC was never going to be a self insert. I love a good self insert sometimes, but it doesn't work with this if!

What makes characters feel realistic and multi-dimensional to me is their ability to break out of their different archetypes. We all know the ones like The Mean Girl or the Shy Kid or the Comic Relief. We can use your Stoic!MC example. Do we as humans act the same exact way every single day with every single event and interaction? No, we don't. Because we are complex, muli-faceted individuals that can have conflicting thought and actions, or opinions. What makes a character feel flat is when they are only given like 3 personality traits and stick to those regardless of what happens around them in the story.

So in Memento Mori, your Stoic!MC will have moments where they're outspoken and opinionated. The Charming!MC will lose their cool and lash out rather than smooth talk. The Friendly!MC will snap at someone without thinking. We aren't perfect, neither is MC, and I think that adds dimension to what can easily be a very blank slate kind of character. This isn't exclusive to MC, either! Veronica/Vincent will be nice to you sometimes for seemingly no reason. Zero will have moments where he is not okay and rejects your comfort when he reads it as pity. Cecelia/Chase will not always be the bouncy comic relief that uses humor to make everyone smile.

To add insult to MC's injury, like you mentioned in your ask, they are suffering from extreme amounts of PTSD and trauma. They have lost everyone and everything, they're a young adult living in complete isolation for two years. They're starving, they're injured, they hate themselves and being alive. It's going to take them a while to feel like themselves. In the span of one day, they've been nearly killed by a monster, then they're covered in blood guts and sweat when they meet C, then C brings them to meet 6 other people (including two aliens) and now they're going on this extensive journey with complete strangers, while that very morning they were contemplating ending it all. it's a lot.

By the time MC meets V, they are already at their limit of dealing with bullshit so V pointing a gun at them was never going to fly. V insulting them was a no-go either. Now, in the future, MC can ignore V more often because they'll be less on edge than when they were all first introduced. Once they have time to process, then they can react what is most familiar and comfortable for them. It will take time.

I laughed when you called MC a firecracker! I'd say they're more...unpredictable as a character when they're under high stress. As time goes on, they'll adjust and mellow out in some ways, but right now? MC has had ENOUGH with feeling like shit all the time.

I'm really glad you were a bit embarrassed by MC talking back to V because that was my goal AHDSEWLKMFRLK it's supposed to feel a bit uncomfortable. It's MC trying to clap back on someone when they have lost most of their social skills. It made ME cringe while writing it. Like oof MC, just ignore them???!!!

I'll definitely be adding some more options to be a bit more stoic or selectively mute in chapter 2, and as for chapter 1, I think more options to stay silent while talking to Cecelia/Chase or when they're speaking with Delphine/V could be good too. I'll see how it flows!

You'll see at the beginning of Ch.2 that MC already feels a tiny bit better. Nothing much but at least they aren't alone anymore, and they have a hot shower and some real food. So small wins for MC!

I think that's all I wanted to say for now!!! Thank you again for your message, my friend!!! I'm glad you're liking my writing and my characters, it does mean a lot to have your support!! <3

[alexiskk]

Way out of Tune

another tlou suggestion from @potatohater that i couldn’t resist🫶 this one is shorter than the others but i love it so i hope u enjoy

Summary: Joel is trying to help Ellie with a guitar lesson, but when she takes all the credit he obviously has to get her to admit she’s wrong

word count: guys how do u even count all these words(i will figure this out eventually)

“You gotta keep practicing Ellie you’ll get there”

“ughhh this is bullshit”

Ellie was quite frustrated on that late Tuesday afternoon, where she found Joel and herself sat on the old wooden bench set on their porch in the middle of April. The air was crisp and a faint hum of actual fireflies could be heard out on the lawn in front of them, but Ellie was far to busy with the guitar that sat in her lap to notice them. There was something about the song Joel was trying to teach her that drove her nuts, and at this point she had been playing for so long, the calluses on her fingertips were beginning to split.

How am I supposed to get here… anddd thennnnn to here that fast?” Ellie held her left hand in two different chord positions, struggling through the transition. 

“You just gotta keep at it, I dunno what else to tell you kid”

Joel’s gruff ignorant voice was saying exactly what Ellie didn’t want to hear. He was on the opposite side of the bench from her, looking relaxed as ever might I add. He had his back leaned against the rustic wood of the bench along with a coffee mug in his right hand, closing his eyes with each sip as if he was taking it in with every sense. He was quite the busy bee around Jackson these days, but he would never turn down a quiet afternoon with Ellie, well, close to quiet that is.

“Well tell me something different I’ve been at this for fucking hours!” You could hear the whine in her voice clear as day.

Ellie’s frustration at this point wasn’t her typical teenage moping, she had been sat on the porch ever since she finished cleaning dishes from lunch at about 1, and with the sun slowly approaching the horizon, the patience left inside her seemed to be fleeting rapidly.

Joel let out a long, almost sarcastic-like, sigh.

“Alright, bring ‘er here”

Ellie stood up with the guitar and shuffled over to his side of the bench as he placed his coffee cup down on the floor beside the bench. She took a seat next to him and he scooted in closer so he could have his right hand up near the fretboard while the guitar sat in her lap.

“Ok now look at where my fingers are,, see here?”

Joel placed the pads of his fingers onto the strings in the first chord position. Ellie could tell by the way he handled the guitar that it was second nature to him, even his fingers, as rough and as calloused as they were, looked like they were right at home around the neck of the guitar.

“ ‘nd thennnnn……here”

He then demonstrated the switch to the next chord, first showing Ellie a broken down demonstration of the movement of each finger before finally showing off his expertise in his speed, transitioning between the two chords rapidly a few times.

“Alright, alright show off” Ellie leaned into him and gave him a light shoulder shove to his chest as she shooed away his hands so that she could now try, to which he responded with a quick jab to her side with his other hand.

She jerked away at the spot he made impact with and shot him a rude glare, to which he only responded with a cheeky disapproving look back, eyebrows up and all.

Ellie ignored him and brought her attention back to the task at hand as she began practicing the switch between the two chords herself, this time remembering the exact path Joel’s fingers had taken during the change. Joel sat back a bit and relaxed next to Ellie, he couldn’t help but crack a smile at the concentrated look on her face, tongue bit between her teeth and all. But he couldn’t deny it, after about 5 minutes, it was finally seeming to come together.

“Heyyy there you go El” There was an excited urgency in his voice as he faintly smacked her on the shoulder with pride while he sat up and watched her transition smoothly twice in a row. He could tell by her shifting body language that she was excited about the progress.

“Nowww what do you say to the old man?” Joel was gesturing towards himself with a cocky grin on his face as he tried to turn in closer to make eye contact with her.

She was doing her very best to stop it but a teeny weeny smile was creeping at the edges of her mouth, but there was noooo way she was gonna give Joel that satisfaction. She turned away slightly but not too obviously to hide herself as she went back to not so casually practicing the song from the beginning on the guitar again.

“Pssh I coulda figured that out on my own”

Ellie mumbled slightly above a whisper, but with Joel being in such close proximity, she knew for a fact he heard her. She loved nothing more than to pester him like this, it made the daily boring routine much more fun when Joel was irritated by something.

All of a sudden, the notes midway through the song skewed in volume and pitch as Ellies hands were jerked against the guitar due to an attack of Joel’s at her sides. He had wrapped his hands around either side of Ellies torso and was squeezing with a nonchalant look on his face. He would have none of her shenanigans today, besides, even though he’d never admit it, this was his idea of making the daily routine more fun.

“Jo-JOOEOEAHAEL”

Ellie’s whole entire body went into panic mode, her arms were doing their very best to protect her, but with the guitar still in her grasp due to the sudden attack, it was mainly her elbows attempting to fight off Joel’s massive hands kneeding at her sides, and lets just say they definitely weren’t winning that fight.

“Ellie what the hehell that sounds horrible!” He gestured to the interesting amalgamation of notes erupting as Ellie wiggled around with the guitar in hand.

You call this progress? Pssh” Joel’s casual words and facial expressions did not match that of his devious hands which here now working their way up to Ellie’s ribs where her sputtering confused giggles were taken up a notch.

“You sound wayyy outta’ tune girl did nothing I teach you stick?” The sarcasm in his voice was only building.

“MOTHERFUCKARAHAH” Ellie had finally somehow successfully clumsily set the guitar on the ground with a clunggg of the strings, leaning up against the bench all while trying to defend her sides from the menace behind her. Electric waves of ticklishness washed over her as she was pinning Joel’s hands to her ribs with her arms. Her head was tucked into her shoulders and neck with the occasional attempt to look behind her at Joel, as her feet were now up on the opposite side of the bench, almost in a seated fetal position at this point. A big cheesy grin covered her face as laughter escaped her.

“You got something to admit kid?”

“NOHOHO AHAHASS QUHIHIT IT”

Ellie was having a conniption fit as she could do nothing to hide this vulnerable childlike laughter from spewing out of her, no matter how she twisted and turned their was no escaping the consequences of screwing with the old man.

Joel on the other hand was having the time of his life, finally some payback to the teenager was taking place. He decided to make one last switch of his own before ending his torture.

“ Alright, your funeral” Joel shot his hands downwards towards Ellies hipbones, latched on and waited for the begging, which obviously wasn’t long after.

Ellie’s eyes shot wide open as she doubled over on the bench, now almost completely vertical.

“NOHOH NOHO OHOHHOK OK I AHAHADIMIHIT STAHAP-”

She had her hands up pleading to Joel, the sensation was too much for her to handle, so he slowly put an end to his attacks and stared down at the teenager waiting for a response.

Ellie, who was now looking up and behind her at Joel as she laid on the bench completely vertical at this point, took half a minute just trying to get herself composed again before finally sputtering out a reply.

“ I-lh’m sohorry, Ih was wrohng, yohou taught mehe everything i know sir”

Although still recovering, she couldn’t help but still mock Joel as she pretend saluted him with her last word accompanying by a smug look on her face, it was simply in her nature.

Joel rolled his eyes.

“You better finish that song now, ‘cuz I highly doubt you wanna find out what happens if you don’t”

“You would be very correct about that”

Ellie pulled her self up immediately and grabbed the guitar as Joel grabbed his mug again and sat back, watching the sun set as Ellie played through the entire song, twice.

Joel smirked. She’d be safe, for now at least.

[sallage]

Hiii I just got done reading about you and your SO. It's so awesome that you were able to tell them! Do you mind writing about one of the tickle fights you've had? In story format if you dont mind? You can totally ignore this btwww. Thanks(:

This is an awesome ask! I would love to!

This story really happened and takes place a few months after I told him. For this and for future reference, I’ll call him Jackson. Side note, I was excited to write this, so I just finished and it's 5:30am right now. There's probably going to be mistakes but I really wanted to get it out. Hope it's enjoyed!

------

Apologize

Pairing: Lee Me, Ler Jackson

Words: 1,714

Reading Time: 7 Minutes Read more tickle asks/stuff ∘₊✧ Here ✧₊∘

“Fuck! Jackson, I knocked one and Marshmallow is one hit!”

“Where is he?”

“He’s inside the- Fuck man! He fucking finished me! Just leave. It’s a whole squad now; people are third partying.”

“I have a shot.”

“No, Don’t! They- Oh my fucking God! Now they know where you are!”

“Fuck! It’s a whole squad!”

“I just said that!”

“Chill out, it’s fine. I can-”

“Don’t just stand there! You gotta- BRUH!”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, thats what happens when you shoot at people and just stand there like a bot- you get sniped.”

“I had 200 health.”

“200 health doesn’t matter if they snipe you for a head shot!”

“You died first.”

“Trying to save you waddoyou mean?!”

“Should’ve been better.”

“Jackson, I knocked one and got Marshmallow down to one hit. You died bent over with your ass in the air, begging for it.”

“Thats crazy.”

“I don’t give a shit, I told you to leave.”

“I can hear you from the living room, stop yelling.”

“What, you don’t want everyone to know you’re a bot?”

“Yo, chill on me.”

“Whatever, man. My back hurts.”

“What? Why?”

“From carrying you!”

“…You’re pissing me off.”

“I played four games with you and you fucked up every one. Get good, kid.”

“Say one more thing.”

“You’re dog waterrrrrr.”

The moment the mic muffled, I knew he was coming into the room to argue with me face to face. I rolled my eyes in frustration, knowing that we had just lost another game of Fortnite because of him. He had caused us to lose every single game we played, whether it was because he had wandered off on his own and gotten jumped, or missed all of his shots. He always got downed and left me to face duos on my own. I was fed up.

The door opened and he walked inside, closing it behind him.

Jackson’s a big dude. Dedicated to the gym and healthy eating habits, his lifestyle awarded him with a beautifully sculpted physique, one that I often admired, being the exact opposite of him. I’ve hardly set foot in the gym and I love my burgers with a side of fries. I’ve been blessed with a fast metabolism, otherwise I know I would have weighed well over 300 pounds due to my horrible eating habits. Instead, I’m slimmer and a little top heavy, one of the things I know Jackson loves about me.

He didn’t look in love with me right now though. He crossed his big arms over his chest and glared down at me, visibly peeved off due to my comments. Being as stubborn as I am, I doubled down.

“What?” I asked, irritably.

“It’s not that serious.”

“You suck at the game.”

“You died first.”

“I was-”

“You died first.”

“Do you really think I’m the one that’s been lacking? Really?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Use your critical thinking skills and get back to me on that.” 

His eyes narrowed at me. “You got one more.”

I frowned. “One more till… what?” I asked, my dismissive voice dripping with sarcasm.

He shrugged again, leaving it vague.

I rolled my eyes and waved him off. “I’m texting the group chat. I would like to win at least one tonight.”

He rolled his eyes and waited for the message. When I put my phone down, he frowned. “Did you send it?”

“Mmhhm.” 

“I didn’t get anything.”

“You wouldn’t. We have a separate group chat for people who know how to play the game.”

There was a moment of silence and during, I closed my eyes, starting to feel bad. I often talk a lot of shit when I play video games and I have to remind myself that it’s truly not that serious and that maybe, I shouldn’t be talking to my boyfriend like that. I huffed and turned back to him to apologize, but I was met with eyes that were filled with mischievous energy.

“What-”

Before I could finish my question, I was being lifted out of my chair and held to his chest as he princess carried me towards the bed. Once arrived, He flipped me onto it, then the air was pushed out of my lungs when he threw himself on top of me.

“Jackson!” I yelled, pushing on his shoulders. “Fuck! You’re heavy as hell! Get off! What the hell are you- GAAAH! AHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FAHAHAK NONONOSTAAAAAAHAHAHAP!”

Jackson Immediately took to squeezing the top of my ribs, rotating his thumbs in the most agonizing circles I’ve ever felt. At this point, he knew exactly how to tickle me if he wanted to turn me on, and tragically, he also knew how to tickle me if he wanted to punish me. He was going for punishment today, and I immediately regretted being mean to him. 

Due to the way I was positioned, my hands arms were up over his shoulders as he lay on top of me and due to his mass, I couldn’t reach around and dislodge his hands from my body. So instead, I pathetically writhed underneath him, unable to even kick my legs as he tangled his with mine.

“I warned you.” He commented simply.

Having been completely caught off guard and pissed off just a few moments ago, I was unable to hold back my reactions like I usually tried to do. I thrashed around as much as I could, which really wasn’t much.

“FUCK! JAHAHAHACKSOHON WAHAHAIT! GHHEEEAAHAHAA! STAHAHAP! NOOOOOOHOHOHOHO!”

His thumbs crept inward, towards a spot on my ribs below my breasts, a spot that he recently discovered, if played with the right way, absolutely wrecked me. Sensing him gearing up to attack it, I panicked.

I started pinching his back, hard. His chest rumbled as he chucked at my pathetic attempt to fight back. My laughter grew more desperate as he approached, just to fake me out and shoot his hands down to the crease below my hips where it bends into the tops of my thighs. He pressed his thumbs inward to rub at the tendons that make up my inner thighs on both sides, knowing how devastating that spot was for me.

I pounded my fists on his back, trying my best to to close my legs and buck him off, failing miserably. It’s only been a minute, but it felt like I was fighting for my life for hours. 

“Apologize.” He demanded.

“I’M SOHOHOHOHRY!” I quickly concede, but he chuckles. 

“Too easy. Tell me I’m better then you in Fortnite.”

“WHAHAHT THE FAHAHAHAK? NOHOHOHOHO!” I yell in frustration, having less than a second to be irritated all over again before his devious fingers find another sweet spot along the waistline of my shorts. I threw my head back and continued fighting, even though I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere. He started pinching my sides, and my laughter died down for a few seconds before he remembered that light tickles do the job. Then, I was thrown into hysterical giggles as his blunt nails sneak underneath my shirt to scribble lightly at my twitching sides.

“Ohohoh my Gahahahd Jackson!” I giggled, arching my back and shifting from side to side as he teased me, intentionally going easy to give me the chance to breathe.

“You were being annoying and rude. You get too into that game.”

“Yeah, okahay! Juhhust stahp. You’re- AH! Dohohone!” 

“I’m still sensing attitude, and you haven’t admitted I’m better than you yet.”

“Because you’re noHOHOT! JACKSON, NOOO!” 

His fingers suddenly made their way up to my ribs again, where a firm yet lighter touch was required. He rotated his thumbs again into the bottom of my ribs, working his way up, knowing how much the anticipation killed me. My giggles, grew more frantic as he teased, his pinches growing firmer with each rib he climbed.

“JaCKsON!” I heaved when he rapidly pinched up and down in rapid succession. “JEHehehesus CHRIst!”

“Admit it.” 

“It’s a liIHIHIHIE!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

He finally got to work, but instead of hitting that sweet spot on my ribs, he shoved his fingers into my armpits. My back arched and I slammed my elbows as far down as they could go, which didn’t matter since he was already in there. He pushed himself up slightly, an adjustment that forced my arms up and away from my body. Then, he used four fingers to rotate and undulate them right in the center of my underarms.

I kicked my legs out and scrunched my eyes closed, rapidly approaching my limit. I could usually handle being tickled for a long time, never really having met my true limit, but he was heavy and I  was finding it hard to keep the same breath in my lungs for longer then a second. So when his fingers finally dipped into that spot on my ribs, I cracked within 5 seconds.

“YEAAHAHAHAAHAHA! SHIIIIIHIHIHIT! OHOHOHKAY! OKAYOKAY YOU’RE BEHEHETER! YOU’RE BETTAAHAHAHA!”

“I’m what?”

“JAHAHAHCKSON! I CAHAHAN’T BREATHE!”

“Then you better say it.”

I fruitlessly thrash for a second before giving up completely. In one long breath, I muster enough strength to get it out.

“YOU’REBETTERTHENMEATFORTNIHIHIHITE! PLEHEHEHEEEEHEHEHSE! I’M SAHAHAHAHRRY!”

Within that instant he was off of me. I continued to lay there, eyes closed and breathing hard in exhaustion. He laid next to me and placed his hand on my stomach, lovingly rubbing it in non ticklish circles. The touch caused me to flinch and he snickered, wrapping his arms around me and dragging me in for cuddles. 

“Thah- That was fucked up.” I chided, but slowly cuddled up to him anyway.

“You liked it.” He said, chuckling when I lightly tapped his chest with the back of my hand.

“Shut up.” I mumbled, having never been so flustered in my life.

Knowing that I should issue a sober aplogy, I swallowed. “I really am sorry though. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I'll be better.”

Jackson kissed my forehead and lightly massaged my back, exactly how I liked it. I let out a content sigh.

His arm wrapped around me, and I felt a sense of calm and security as I lay my head against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat against my neck. I closed my eyes, my exhaustion allowing me to drift off into a deep and restful sleep.

[x31043]

I guess im just bothered that when youre born an called a woman youre then constantly told to shut upforever,but when the opposite is true youre constantly encouraged to speak up.Youre ridiculed for not doing it, but to me thats different than being hurt or even killed FOR doing it. That means that childhood sucks. Adolescence sucks. Youre really in a place of forced subservience for your whole existence. You have to break out of that so hard. Youre physically smaller. You are trained to ignore yourself until you are broken. You are trained to be something that someone uncaring will shove themselves in and take, take over. You are literally raised to be an object to be used and discarded. That is UNIVERSAL. I know some people epxerience that without being born & assigned women, but for those of us who are this is literally a universal experience. You are fucking made to be a fucking sex robot and a servant and an agreeable nodding nothing whose opinions dont matter and nothing else. You are TRAINED in social cues and spend your whole life noticing every little thing and forcibly keeping all your opinions inside. Everyone should be lifting our voices up!!! Trans people should be screaming up at the sky not at others to keep their voices down!!

This literally makes me want to scream. Women are not treated better than men. Why would trans men be treated better than trans women? Where are you seeing that, where??? They have SPECIFIC, DIFFERENT experienes and also many that are the same! Because its a fucking spectrum, remember that discourse? When youre trans it doesnt work all neatly in two categories like that. I look like a trans women. Many trans women look like me. Many of us are non-binary and our gender is basically the same regardless of how we were brought up. Why can you ask me my genitals now and if i dont answer i get canceled. what the FUCK is that. Why has it become like this. It started as “our experiences are different, we need a space to talk about the ways they are not the same.” and now its-- disclose whether youre dmab or dfab to be a good ally to trans women. We have to talk about it ALL THE TIME. WE have to go based off genital differences to determine how you are privileged or not. That’s not the fucking way to move our community forward or to connect as individulas. And Guess what?? Trans women don’t even want it!!!

TME is a term that trans women made for VERY SPECIFIC CIRCUMSTANCES. It can be applied to SPECIFIC CIRCUMSTANCES which require a very nuanced and exact language. I may be fucked up for saying this but There are times when trans mascs and butches face a speciifc, different type of transphobia to trans women, too. And they deserve a space to talk about it, too, while still DEFENDING trans fems from terfs. This seems fucking obvious to me. when its white ppl it all pales against transphobic racism anyway.

And that’s the long and short of it, bc trans women arent the ones I see taking about TME. They arent the ones actively claiming they have worse epxeriences with gender and dysphoria. Thats all like cute Nonbinary transmascs typically who are white telling me my experience was a lot easier than others in my community. And to me thats a part of this fucked up socialization--always talk youself down, and hold others like you accountable for reaching beyond their capacity. Other DFAB people telling me to shut up about my transness is fucking ironic in a way that doesn’t make me want to laugh. You were told to shut up your whole life, so now you’re going to put that on me?? Why are we doing this in the first place then?? WHy if not to reclaim the voice that was stolen from us?!

My genitals are thought of as absolutely inconceivable. The 20 pounds of weight on my chest is thought of as a dirty thing I literally need to press and constrain into tight and uncomfortable shapes or I will be violated when I go outside. Do you have any idea what that does to a kid?  I bet you know what it does to an adult. It’s a very similar experience! We need a space to talk about this without being called terfs or told to check our TME privilege. I am going to one day be a man with a beard in a dress. Whats not clicking?

[azikarue]

Just A Moment : Chapter 27 : Fruits

Rick/Mariah, White Tigers | FFN Rating: M (for language) | FFN Link ❖

“What the hell is a loquat?”

Kevin snickered. He had some balls for someone less than a third of Rick’s size. Even factoring in the recent growth spurt that enabled him to look Mariah in the eyes without breaking his neck, the kid was too wiry to be laughing at Rick, of all people.

“It’s also called a Chinese plum,” Gary chimed in. Rick liked him well enough; he was the only one of the White Tigers, besides Mariah, who hadn’t made his life a living hell since he’d gotten to their training camp.

He’d expected Lee to be an asshole, what with Rick kind of, sort of dating his sister. And Kevin’s wisecracks were always bound to get on his nerves. But the worst thing was Ray’s remarkable ability to have a dopey childhood memory to share in every conversation.

Nine times out of ten, Ray’s stories hinted that he and Mariah were in some weird puppy love at the time. Lee loved to double down with comments about how cute she used to be following him around. Rick didn’t give a shit past wishing his life didn’t revolve around different groups of people who drove him up the fucking wall.

Maybe there was something to Mariah saying he had a short fuse.

To make things worse, he was forced to share a cabin with Ray at night. Rick wasn’t that carnal of a guy, but it would’ve been easier to stomach Mariah’s friends if he could at least have her to himself when the sun went down. Instead there were conversations with Ray that fizzled out quickly once they covered everything they had in common: beyblading and Max Tate.

“Pff, come on Gary – he doesn’t know what that is either.” Kevin’s snarky voice made a vein throb in Rick’s temple.

“Oh,” Gary said, almost sounding disappointed. His expression brightened when he explained, “They’re small fruits you can eat raw, or they can be used to make jams and jellies—”

“All you need to know,” Kevin continued, ignoring Gary rattling off his list, “is that they’re delicious—”

“—fruit wine and smoothies—”

“—and they’re Mariah’s favorite—”

“—oh and don’t forget the pies and tarts!”

“—and no one but Ray has ever gotten any down for her,” Kevin finished, fixing Rick with a meaningful look.

Whatever its purpose, all that did was make Rick want to grab him by the ponytail and fling him into the sunset. He managed to quell the urge and glared testily back and forth between the two of them.

Gary was obliviously staring towards the top of the loquat cliff, but Kevin met his gaze with an innocence he probably hadn’t actually possessed a day in his life.

With a huff, Rick grumbled, “And why should I care?”

“Well,” Kevin sighed, too nonchalantly, “we just thought if you were trying to woo Mariah…” He trailed off at the end and offered Rick a flippant shrug.

“We’re way past ‘wooing’,” Rick snorted with a roll of his eyes.

Whatever Kevin considered ‘wooing’, Rick could guarantee he’d done the exact fucking opposite. Hell, the only reason he and Mariah were a thing in the first place was because she came onto him. Rick hadn’t been trying to attract her. He’d been vehemently against the idea of anything even a little serious when she practically moved in, all of her own volition.

If he hadn’t managed to drive Mariah away by now, it was safe to say he was stuck with her. And if Kevin’s antics were supposed to send him into a tizzy and make him look like a fucking idiot trying to prove himself, it wasn’t going to work on Rick.

Kevin’s visible eyebrow arched toward his hairline and he exchanged a look with Gary.

“Uh… Don’t let Lee hear you say that,” Gary advised uneasily.

Rick let out a bark of laughter.

“I’m not scared of Lee.”

“You still shouldn’t let him hear you talk about Mariah like that. It could get ugly,” Kevin said, looking almost as if he would enjoy watching Rick and Lee get into it. At least Gary’s concern seemed genuine.

Rick scowled. He hadn’t meant what he said in the way they took it, but explaining that would be a waste of time; they wouldn’t believe him and if Lee wanted to get riled up about something, there was no use trying to stop him. With one last scoff, Rick turned on his heel and headed back toward the main camp.

He didn’t think about the loquats or Kevin’s challenge for the rest of that day or most of the ones that followed.

Instead he wore away the enamel on his teeth, grinding them to make it through Ray’s stories and Lee’s suspicious stares and Kevin’s snark. Sometimes he caught them looking at him with puzzled faces, like they were trying to figure out why the hell Rick had come in the first place. All of that, combined with the fact that he wondered the exact same fucking thing, made his head ache.

Mariah claimed it was the heat. He wasn’t shy about telling her otherwise.

In any case, the only relief he got was when she’d pull him under the crushing weight of the falls and let the water go to work on his tense muscles. Then, if none of the other White Tigers were lurking around, she’d climb into his arms and kiss him hard enough to bruise.

Unfortunately, those moments were few and far between, and the rest of the time her friends were as unbearable as ever.

“Just like old times,” Lee chuckled one evening when they were all gathered around a campfire.

Mariah was caramelizing some type of dessert over the flames. Ray was at her side, handing her whatever she needed before she could even reach for it. Lee was watching them like he had the wedding half planned. Gary was looking at the food in a similar way.

Rick sat farther back than the rest of them – nighttime was the only time White Tiger Hills wasn’t hot as balls and he wasn’t gonna ruin that by sweating it out by the fire – and ignored the looks Kevin was shooting his way. He was really fucking annoyed, but letting Kevin know that would be tantamount to admitting he was jealous.

And he wasn’t. Not even when Mariah topped the cobbler-y concoction with a layer of fresh whipped cream and Ray dolloped some onto her nose and everyone laughed except him.

Kevin was the only one who noticed his sour mood. Rick knew he’d find a way to be a pain in the ass about it and his suspicions were confirmed when Kevin accepted a plate and said, “Imagine how good this would be with loquats instead.”

The enunciation and shit-eating grin were entirely for Rick’s benefit. He flipped Kevin off as covertly as possible as the boys all made noises of agreement.

“If only,” Mariah sighed and handed Rick his plate. She lowered herself to the ground beside him, using his shoulder to keep steady on the way down. She didn’t need to, but Rick noticed she took any opportunity to casually touch him.

He took a bite to hide his satisfied grin.

“They’re your favorite for a reason,” Ray acknowledged, golden eyes flicking in Mariah’s direction fondly.

Mariah’s answering smile curled up and died in his brain when he bunked down that night.

Ray fell asleep after their usual idle chitchat, lucky asshole. Rick was stuck laying awake, feet and ankles dangling off the bottom of the cot, sweat pouring down his neck, and mosquitoes trying to eat him alive. Every time he got close to sleep, he thought of Mariah smiling at Ray and felt the urge to pulverize something.

It had to be this damn place getting to him, because Rick was not a jealous person. He talked big because he could back it up. He didn’t need to prove himself. It didn’t matter if Ray could pull some fancy moves with Driger and bring back a handful of bruised fruit. It especially didn’t matter if he did it for Mariah’s attention – Rick got that without even fucking trying, thank you very much. And he could blade circles around Ray any day.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled and tossed an arm over his eyes, hoping to force himself into a half-decent sleep.

The next morning, before Ray could strike up some pointless conversation, Rick marched out of camp to the loquat cliffs. He had at least an hour until breakfast – the White Tigers had to meditate first – plenty of time to put Rock Bison through its paces or however the fuck he could justify this.

Rick sneered. The cliffs looked exactly the same as they had when he’d stood there with Kevin. Rick had wondered why the hell he was there that time, too. Before he could agonize over it, he readied his launcher and, with a growl, pulled the ripcord and sent his beyblade up the side.

Rock Bison made it two-thirds of the way up before losing momentum. Rick swore as it tumbled down to land at his feet. He picked it up and wiped the dust off absentmindedly, busy studying the groove it’d carved into the cliff face. He’d been too heavy-handed and the friction slowed his blade down.

With that in mind, he launched again. And again. And again.

He got aggravatingly close more than once, only for the heaviness of his blade to catch up with it and drag it back down. Another time it bounced off of a protruding bit of rock and ricocheted to the ground. He even tried Drop Rock, and ended up diving out of the way to avoid plummeting debris.

He didn’t think the White Tigers would notice the cliff was tilted more to the right afterwards, but he also figured it was better not to do that again.

“Motherfucker,” he snarled.

As if in reply, a single loquat tumbled down the cliff and rolled to a stop in front of him. One look and it was obvious that the offending piece of fruit had been pecked at already. It took a lot of restraint not to smash it into the dirt.

When Rick finally returned to camp, he was hot and sweaty and in a piss-poor mood. He was on his way to drown his frustrations under the surging waterfall, when he ran into the last person he wanted to see.

“Where have you been?” Kevin asked, striding up with is hands in his pockets and a wide, knowing smirk on his lips.

“None of your fucking business,” Rick answered and kept walking.

Kevin, having no sense of self-preservation, followed.

“You didn’t go to the cliffs, by any chance?” he asked smugly.

Rick ignored him and took longer strides to get away faster. Kevin, the little idiot, didn’t get the hint and practically jogged to keep up. Rick could see the rest of his team looming on the horizon and grew tenser.

“Hope it wasn’t anything I said about Mariah and Ray,” Kevin lied through his teeth; there was a smile audible in his voice. “I’m sure she’d only give him a little kiss if he came back with loqua – hey!”

Kevin’s speech broke off in an indignant squawk. Rick had grabbed a fistful of the pipsqueak’s shirt and hoisted him up so his toes were just barely grazing the dirt. He heard the sound of the other White Tigers calling out and running over, but he stared Kevin down without loosening his grip.

“I. Don’t. Give. A. Shit.” He enunciated each word and leaned over so they were nearly nose to nose. Even if he didn’t intimidate Kevin, he could at least shut him up. “And even if I did, your little quest is fucking impossible without a higher starting point. I’m not a fucking idiot!”

Kevin tried and failed to hide a smile.

“How long did you try?” he snickered.

A vein throbbed in Rick’s temple.

“What are you doing?!” Lee shouted, skidding to a halt with the others. His dark brows were drawn together menacingly. “Put Kevin down before I make you!”

Rick snorted and rolled his eyes, but let Kevin go.

It was the smartest thing Kevin had done all day to take a couple of steps back before bursting into laughter.

Rick clenched his fists and saw the White Tigers close ranks around Kevin. At least, Ray and Lee did, looking very serious and very angry respectively. Gary was watching Kevin laugh, seemingly deep in thought. Mariah appeared at Rick’s elbow and fixed Kevin with a suspicious glare.

“Kevin, how many times do I have to tell you not to antagonize Rick?” she asked testily, settling her hands on her hips.

Rick could fight his own battles, but it felt damn good to see Lee’s eyes widen in shock at his sister’s stance. Felt damn good to see Ray look Mariah up and down like he’d never seen her before, too, like he was just now realizing she wanted Rick and not him. It felt good, even if Kevin started laughing harder.

“It’s—,” Kevin wiped an imaginary tear out of his eye and choked back another laugh before he could continue. “It’s his own fault for making it so easy!”

“Kevin…” Mariah growled.

“What happened?” Ray interceded, more diplomatically than Rick would have expected. He glanced at Rick before settling his eyes back on Kevin, waiting for an explanation.

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Rick said at the same exact time Kevin blurted out, “The big dummy thought he’d try getting loquats down for Mariah.”

The tone in his voice when he said Mariah’s name was obnoxiously sing-song and Rick wanted to clobber him.

“Only because you said Ray could get them down,” he shot back, refusing to feel embarrassed and getting angrier instead, “which is bullshit because if I can’t, then he sure as hell can’t.”

There was a pregnant pause. Rick readied himself to wholeheartedly deny any jealousy they were about to accuse him of. Instead, Gary spoke.

“But Kevin, only Mystel can reach, remember?”

Rick grit his teeth. He could hear blood rushing in his ears. He fucking knew it. Where the hell was that information when Gary had come with Kevin to show Rick the cliffs in the first place?

“We always have to wait for them to fall,” Ray said to Rick, bringing him back to the present. His tone was apologetic, like he was the parent of a child who’d played a mean prank. Thankfully – or not because Rick could go for a good brawl right now – he didn’t seem offended by Rick calling himself the better beyblader. “Mystel knocked them down by leaping halfway up the cliff face before launching his beyblade. I’d never seen anything like it.”

“Yeah, that guy was a freak of nature,” Lee chimed in, shaking his head at the memory. When he looked at Rick next, he was smirking. “Why did you take Kevin’s word for it, anyway?”

“He’s so gullible,” Kevin snickered.

Rick bristled.

Mariah looped her arm through his and cuddled up to his side.

“I think it was super sweet and romantic of you, Rick,” she said, gazing up at him with twinkling eyes. Her free hand pried his out of its clenched position so she could lace their fingers together. Something in her eyes – or in the way she pressed insistently against him with a soft sigh – made his face feel hot.

Rick cleared his throat.

He could feel her teammates staring. Lee’s mouth was visibly hanging open at the corner of his field of vision. For some reason, Kevin was still laughing under his breath. He was debating tearing them all a new one when Mariah began pulling him in the general direction of the waterfall.

“Come on, Rick – let’s go cool off.”

She ordered the others not to follow and, as she led him away from a sputtering Lee to the promise of some uninterrupted alone time, he thought that maybe the whole shitshow was worth it after all.

[francisp0rter]

BLINDSPOT/ROCKIFICATION

Why does this dude have such a massive blindspot when it comes to trap and street rap?

Just take a look at his new top 50 albums list. Not one trap or drill album. Not a single one. Are you fucked in the head? How are you gonna call yourself "the internet's busiest music nerd" when you don't even acknowledge the existence of the biggest rap subgenre in the world currently.

Imagine leaving Babyface Ray, Icewear Vezzo, BabyTron, Quavo & Takeoff, Duvy, Lucki, iayze etc. off of your end of the year list in favour of some generic, derivative garbage like The Forever Story. Just try and imagine that. Try and imagine having that bad of taste while also calling yourself "the internet's busiest music nerd."

The bald man seems like a nice guy but he needs to learn to listen to music properly. You're supposed to be this bigtime music critic right? So why you still listen to music like a fan then?

The thing that drives me nuts about Fantano is the simple fact that he tries to cover pretty much all music in the popular and indie spheres. There's a reason that reporters and critics have "beats" or specific areas of expertise that they cover. Pitchfork wouldn't send Al Pierre to review a Carly Rae Jepsen record. They know that's not his wheelhouse. They'll get Dylan Green or some other poptimist sycophant to do that kind of bidding. So why is Fantano reviewing shit that he doesn't like, is never going to like, and doesn't understand? That's not to say critics shouldn't give negative reviews. That would be ridiculous. I'm saying that a critic should not speak on music that they don't understand, and based on Fantano referring to Chief Keef's "Finally Rich" as "ridiculous novelty" (as well as his general ignorance on street rap), I think it's fair to say that he has no understanding of it. A 16 year old kid recounting all the murder, addiction, and destruction he's seen in his life is "ridiculous novelty" to you? Come the fuck on, bald man.

Remember when this dude was sucking off Brockhampton being all buddy buddy with them? That shit was unbelievable. What kind of self respecting music critic would ever make friends with an artist? There is a very necessary division between critic and artist and you can't just go around playing jump rope with it. Lester Bangs didn't start kissing up to Lou Reed when he interviewed him, despite Reed being Bangs' idol. No. He did the exact opposite. He called Lou Reed a bitch to his face and said his music sucks now and he should give it up. That's a real critic.

This guy needs to realize that traditional albums have never been a good way to consume rap music. Sure, you get an Illmatic or a Butterfly every now and then, but for the most part rap is a singles genre, and rappers' attempts to create albums in the rock & roll tradition (ten to fifteen songs, cohesive, with a curated tracklist and reflective cover art) is always annoying. It rarely ever works out. That's why J. Cole sucks so bad on albums but on features he's pretty good. Because when he's on a feature or a single he's just rapping. He's not concerned with making some great cohesive rap album, he's just spitting bars.

Idk. I love albums. I hate them in the context of rap sometimes. I "hate" them for the same reason that I hate when rappers perform with a live band. This is Hip Hop. It's not rock music. We don't need to conform the genre to the popular standards of music, because none of this was ever about that. The whole thing I fell in love with about rap, besides the music itself, is that it existed in stark contrast to and firm defiance of established musical norms. Rappers didn't try and be popstars. If one became a popstar, like Em or Wayne or Hov, it was almost always in spite of them being a rapper, not because of it. And I loved that. I mean, it's great that rap is popular now, but also it's terrible at the same time. I'm glad more people are being exposed to it, but also I wish that they would please just leave us alone and stop trying to make this genre into something it's not.

I'm aware that I'm not making the clearest point here, so let me say this: Trap and drill music are the new blues. It is a hyper-violent blues, but it is blues nonetheless in that it is poetics and rhythms that speak on a working class Black American experience. And it is being received with the same ignorance and narcissism that blues was received with.

[jbreenr]

𝕬𝖕𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖎𝖊𝖘

Pairing: Logan Howlett × Mutant!Reader

Summary: The Wolverine's presence in your life took a turn you did not expect.

Word count: 3.1k

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of ass slapping (both in public and privately), a bit of praise and pain kink, begging, coercion during sex (it's confusing but consensual). And I think that's it.

A/N: So, I just want to wish the the happiest of birthdays to my beautiful @buckyownsmylife 🥳🎉, and thank her for the amazing work she shares with us everytime and for motivating me to start writing here. You know I love your Logan stories and I only hope you like this one ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵒⁿᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ⁱᵗ. As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*.

ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐʸ ᵍⁱᶠ ¯ ᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵒʳ

It all started the first time you saw him walking out of Charles’ office.

You were chatting with Jean; she was doing her best to explain how you should concentrate and put aside your power when it came to talking, when a big shadow and a thick voice distracted you.

“Yes, Charles!” Squawked the man. “You don’t have to repeat it every time we see each other.”

“You know I’m right, Logan. And yet, you still decide to ignore me.”

Jean stopped talking and both of you observed the scene with interest.

“Fuck it, professor.” He haughty spat and walked in the opposite direction, right to the closest door.

“He should apologize for talking to him like that, don’t you think?” You whispered to Jean, to which she only nodded.

The man, Logan –as Charles called him, abruptly stopped and turned to see the blue eyed, confusion all over his face. Both men turned to see you as if it was the first time.

Then again, it was for one of them.

“Logan…” The professor reproached when he saw his previous interlocutor redirected his way to you.

Jean was long gone at that moment.

“What did you do?” Was his first question.

“I-I didn't do a-anything.” You stuttered at the same time you shrug your shoulders.

“Of course you did! I had a sudden urge to apologize to Charles for how I talked to him. How did you do that?”

“Y/N has the gift of convention, to call it that way. But she doesn’t control it just yet.” Xavier came to your defense. Logan looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “Her body produces pheromones that allow her to verbally control other people’s actions. But, for some reason, she couldn’t do it with you. It must be your healing factor that makes you immune.”

The dark eyed man turned to you again, got dangerously close and said, “So, Y/N,” He took a lock of your hair and instinctively you stepped back. “Aren't you going to say sorry for what you almost made me do?”

You flipped and apologized in an almost inaudible whisper. You felt Charles' presence in your head, probably making sure you wouldn’t say something out of line, causing Logan to be more pissed. Logan’s body moved away from yours and shot off in his initial direction.

When he was out of sight, you let out the oxygen you didn’t know you were holding.

As the days went by, you would find him everywhere. At the garden when you were studying, in front of the classrooms before your every class, waiting for you by the door of your room at the end of the day.

He said he wanted to learn how you used your powers with others, but you never fell for his provocations. Not until that day he spanked your asscheek in front of your classmates, freezing you in the spot. Scott was about to touch your shoulder when you asked him to step back. All of the presents did as you said, except for the now satisfied Wolverine, who stood in his exact position with the biggest smile on his lips.

“I see.” He smiled widely. “That’s how you made friends so easily here.”

Your blood boiled; the only solution to appease the smoke that was about to come out of your ears was to slap him hard with the back of your hand. It was when his head turned to the left that you realized your actions. You apologized again and got out of there.

You wouldn't admit it if you were asked, but it was not Logan you were mad at. At least, not in its totality. Your anger was rather directed to yourself the second you realized that you were not actually hating on Logan's manners but quite the opposite.

Days became weeks and the presence of your new friend only became more and more annoying. The contact between his hand and your ass became a recurrent thing, inviting you to use your ability with whoever that found themselves close to show him how it worked. Of course, you didn't give him the satisfaction and walked away with your tongue strongly held between your teeth and your cheeks burning with both rage and embarrassment.

More often than not you'd feel yourself getting wet by the thought of his big hands squeezing your butt as he railed you senseless.

Which was one of the reasons you'd rather stay away from him. You didn't know if those thoughts of yours would somehow make their way inside Logan's head, giving him yet another excuse to bug you.

That day, it was late when you arrived at the mansion and your shoes were killing you slowly. You couldn't wait to take them off.

A big figure was leaning against your door frame; big arms crossed and a foot lazily pressed against the wall, a view you were getting used to. Rolling your eyes, you decided to ignore him. Maybe that way he’ll leave faster and you wouldn't have to deal with another ruined pair of panties.

“You won’t say ‘hello’?” His lips brushed your ear from behind while you opened the door and you unconsciously closed your eyes for a second.

“I don’t see why I should do that.” You entered your room, with all the intention of closing the door as soon as possible. “Good night.”

You did not achieve your goal though, thanks to a brown boot that got lodged between the door and the frame.

“What do you want?” You fully opened the door to let him see your annoyance better, but he took it as an invitation and entered. “Sure, come in.” You murmured and the man stopped just like in past times.

“I came with a proposal.” And as simple as that, he plopped in your bed.

“I’m all ears.”

You hadn't even had time to turn on the light, so you turned to look for the switch. When you finally located it, you felt a pair of hands on your stomach. By inertia, you held the air in your lungs.

Logan’s hands caressed from your waist to your belly and his lips searched for a spot to locate in the curve of your shoulder. Needless to say, your breath could create a whirlpool in front of you at that point.

“I've come to the conclusion that you don't like this little game we’ve been playing.”

You let go of his grip and turned to see him, aware of the pool already forming between your legs.

“Wasn’t it clear from the beginning? I don't like your little game.” You took a step back, trying to put some distance to avoid doing something stupid.

“Same thing. What about we leave everything for good if…”

“If…?” You were willing to do anything to keep that walking temptation away.

He moved closer, cornering you against the door, hands against the wood on each side of your head. His breath hitting your face as his eyes descended to your lips.

Logan tainted you, brushing your nose with his, making the slightest contact of his lips with the corner of yours, having you closing your eyes, waiting for the moment he'd kiss you, but said moment didn't come.

Instead, he separated from you and said, “If you sincerely apologize to me.” He smiled as he only knew.

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets from the impression of his request. He sounded like a broken record.

“I already apologized to you for what happened. Twice!” Your ears were red with anger. There was no way you would ask for his forgiveness again.

“You look hotter when you're angry.”

The color left your ears to locate in your cheeks. What did he say? That you looked hotter, not just hot?

Your brain worked a thousand an hour; It didn't take you long to understand his comment, but you didn't know what to say. Your whole lexicon, stuck in your throat.

“I-I” You couldn't get to say anything more when he stamped his lips with yours.

His fingers dug in your hair, pressing you to stay close so he could keep sucking at your lips. When his other hand traveled down your back and located under your skirt to take possession of your ass, you were a goner.

You parted your lips, letting Logan's tongue in, which you brushed with your own in a steamy fight for dominance.

Breathing didn't seem to be an impediment for either of you, but the second you pulled at Logan's hair and you heard him groan, he ended the kiss and stepped back.

“You've no idea of what you just did.” He ripped his flannel open, buttons clacking on the wooden floor as he threw the ruined piece of cloth aside.

“Maybe I do.” You said as you reached for the zipper of your dress, lowering with the teasingly slow sound of it being opened. When it finally pooled at your ankles, you felt really proud of the reaction to your cute lingerie the man in front of you had.

Logan bit his lip, imagining how it would be to lick your every inch, to have you trembling underneath his touch when his tongue, buried in your sweet pussy, made you cum again and again.

Stepping out of the dress, you kicked it to the front, almost hitting Logan with the soft material.

You giggled as he catched it in the air, only to send it on top of his unwanted flannel.

“Thought you didn't like this game.” He took off his boots, sending them flying across the room.

“A girl can change her mind.” You said, shortening the distance between you two to run your hands in his firm chest. “Can't she?”

“Yes, she can.” And just like that, he lifted you up your feet and tossed you to the center of your bed. “'Course she can.”

He settled between your legs, face so close to yours that his breath fanned over your lips.

You were impatient, your eyes, trying to catch his own to beg him to do something, but his gaze was fixated somewhere else. Your breast, hugged and trapped in that cute little bra of yours. He saw them rising up and going down with your desperation, too immersed in the thought of taking them in his mouth. It took him by surprise when you dug your nails in his shoulders and dragged them down, drawing eight perfect red lines that were quick to disappear but worked to get his attention back.

“A picture would last longer.” You teased, making him look at your face again.

His hands wandered along your sides and over the fabric. “Too bad I don't have my camera with me.”

SWISH

“What the hell?!” The exclamation came louder than you intended. Not in fear but astonishment.

The adamantium came out of his knuckles, and as he managed to cut clean both bands without touching your skin, you wondered how many times had he done that trick before.

The metal was sharp and cold. Logan ran both claws over your heated flesh, settling them under the straps that had no use anymore and you felt your core throbbing, a new wave of arousal pooling between your legs. “As much as I am enjoying this view,” Two soft snaps followed his pause, and you felt your ruined bra giving in. “I can't wait to taste what's underneath.”

At what point did he retract the claws, you didn't know, but the second he uncovered your tits to take one in his mouth and stimulate the other with his rough fingers, you figured you didn't care.

His tongue would swirl around your nipple, sucking on the hardened bud and torturously grazing his teeth over it. The wet sounds of his lips as he left a path of kisses to your other boob to treat it the same way, filling the air along with the uncontrollable moans that you produced.

While Logan happily feasted, you did your best to rock your hips up, wanting to have some sort of friction to ease your need for him. And he, as the jerk he was, pressed further into you, letting you feel his hard on over the thick material of his jeans.

“Damn it, Logan.” Your fingers found his scalp, his grunt when you yanked at his hair, impacting directly in your clit. “Just fuck me already.”

His assault to your breast stopped immediately, hands and mouth ungluing from your body almost instinctively as you both understood what had happened.

“Shit. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean…”

Logan stood up and you froze.

There you were, half naked, pathetically drenching the sheets under you and waiting to see the Wolverine's mad reaction to your unintentional order.

But before you could start justifying yourself, Logan was unfastening his jeans and stepping out of his underwear, revealing his erect, bouncing length already leaking precum.

In a swift motion, Logan tore your panties, no need to use the claws to get rid of them. His bare hands were enough to make them useless shreds that wouldn't even work as a rag.

“You know,” He said as he made his way on top of you again, caressing your thigh as his tip came in contact with your glistening pussy. “I didn't want you to apologize for making your way inside my head.” He ran his shaft along your lips, coating himself with your arousal and enjoying the little meowls you let out. “I wanted you to do it, for not leaving it.”

And with an energetic, determined thrust he pushed inside. Your toes curled and your back arched, brushing your sensitive nipples against his chest.

He settled a slow rhythm at first, giving you time to adjust to the new intruder.

After a few thrusts, you were ready for him to go faster, moaning softly every time you felt his veins brushing over your walls. But instead of telling him to increase the pace, you bit your tongue and covered your mouth with your palm, not wanting him to think you were taking advantage of your powers in that particular situation.

But Logan did not like that.

He wanted you to be loud, to let him know how much you were enjoying the moment, so he did the first thing that crossed his mind: he took your hands in his and intertwined his fingers with yours, setting them on each side of your head.

Biting your lip, Logan drank your every moan. “You want me to go faster?” He pointed out each word with a thrust. “Want me to ruin this pretty, little pussy?”

“Yes, yes!” You finally gave in. “I want you to ruin my pussy.”

“Say no more.”

His hips snapped with more force this time, kicking the air out of your lungs and any thought of inhibition out of your head.

Logan hammered fast, loving the cries slipping out of you. Your legs hugged his hips, locking him to your body.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He buried his face in the curve of your shoulder. “You're so tight around my cook. Taking me so well.” Praises rained on you, an inevitable sense of pride invading your soul. “This pussy is mine now” One of his hands let go of yours, tapping its way down to your clit, which he circled diligently. “You hear that?”

“Oh, God!” You whimpered, hips jolting to meet Logan's thrusts and fingers.

You were a mess, hair tangled, lips parted, and body jerking in a desperate attempt to reach your orgasm.

The back of your head was buried in the pillow, your tits in perfect display as Logan sneaked his hand to your lower back to bring you up with him.

Sitting on the bed, Logan helped you ride his cock, palm going up and down your spine with each roll of your hips, sending goosebumps from your head to toe.

At some point, you felt Logan's hands settling in your ass, only for them to abruptly smack it. You let out a surprised wail, but did nothing to stop him from doing it again. “You like this?” He asked as his big palm repeated the action. “Knew you did.” Logan caressed the slowly redden spot delicately as his lips found your jaw, leaving a quick, almost imperceptible kiss there. “Knew you always did.”

A tormenting set of smacks followed his words, having your walls squeezing him hard each time his hand landed on your sensitive skin, making you throw your head back.

The sounds leaving your mouth were almost inhuman, the hoarse screams of ecstasy, mixing with the wet symphony your bodies created with each encounter.

“Tell me what you want, sweet thing. You wanna cum?” His words fell on your shoulder, the ragged tone of his voice, making you clench down again.

“Let me cum, please!” You did not care if the people next to your room heard you, not even if Charles was aware of what was happening. You needed your release. “Let me cum!”

But as much as Logan was loving listening to you begging, that was not what he had in mind.

“Nuh, you know how to.”

He was face to face with you now, waiting for it to hit you.

And he didn't have to wait long.

“Make me cum.” There was no pause this time. Logan's strong grip didn't falter when he snapped his hips up to meet you in the middle, making the bed shake, having the headboard hitting the wall repeatedly. “Yes, yes, make me cum!” You repeated as a mantra. Logan's tip, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust.

Logan grunted when he felt your walls clamping around his cock. Your imminent orgasm, approaching fast.

“Cum for me, baby.” His words, combined with one last smack, were all you needed to reach your high.

The coil snapped and the word disappeared behind the hundred sensations invading you, behind the feeling of Logan's fingers digging in your soft flesh as he grew closer to his own release.

Your hands went for his hair again, yanking at it, unleashing an animalistic growl that was followed by Logan's spent painting your walls.

You felt strangely empty when he pulled out to lay you in the bed. His big body, joining you seconds after.

“We should make this a habit.” He said out of breath, locking an arm possessively on your waist to drag you closer to him. “See what other things you can make with those powers.”

“As long as you don't want to try them with an audience again, I'm in.”

“It's not my fault you look delicious with everything you wear.” He said in your ear, his raspy tone awakening that lustful fire within you once again.

“You'll have to behave, or I'll make you.”

And as he rolled in the bed to pin you under him, you knew he took your words, not as a warning, but as a challenge.

[lilalouuxx]

HIIII!! Can you do a fez x reader where day have been broken up for like maybe 2 weeks and fez is like A MESS like drinking and stuffs like that, then she goes to a party he’s there and try’s to make her jealous to get her attention but then she try’s to make him jealous but he like completely loses it and they get into a big fight but then they make up !!!

Of course! Here it is. Hope you enjoy x

Warning: swearing

______________________________________

He’s here, of course he’s fucking here. You weren’t ready to see him yet. He hasn’t seen you yet luckily, and honesty that’s how you want it to stay.

“Honestly y/n he’s been a fucking mess” fezcos brother ash says to you, you found ash talking with some clients outside. You didn’t really want to bump into ash either but you wouldn’t ignore ash, he was like your brother, You loved him and missed him.

“It’s only because he feels guilty”

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him like this. I think he regrets”

“ I very much doubt that ash, he would of reached out to me”

“Look I don’t know about all this relationship shit but all I know is that I’ve never seen him act this way, every time I see him he’s got a drink in his hand. Even you know he doesn’t drink that much, plus I don’t even know when the last he slept. He’s been fucking moody too, do you know how hard it is to work with a moody person. That shits fucking hard”

“Look I’m sorry ash, I’m sorry that you have to deal with him like this but it’s not my fault. He made his decision”

“ you know what he’s like y/n, he thinks you’re better off without him. He’s trying to protect you but it’s destroying him not being with you I can see it, Please can you just… talk to him? It might help.. plus I miss having you around” you sigh and run a hand through your hair

“Ash if he’s really that fucking depressed about us breaking up then he should come talk to me not the other way round” you stand up to leave “ look I love you, it’s best you just stay out of it and also you’re a kid, talk like a kid rather than a fucking therapist” you say laughing before kissing the top of his head “miss you too kid” you say afterwards and then start walking back into the house.

You find your friend Jules over near the kitchen, you pour yourself a drink. “Hey Y/N” she says hugging you “hey “ you reply taking a sip of your drink after you hug her back.

“How have you been?” Jules asks, you know she’s referring to you and fez so you shrug

“never better“ you reply.

“Okay good because uh maybe don’t turn around” she says looking behind you

“Why??” you ask frowning

“ I don’t think you’d like what you saw” she says then looks at you again. Huh it’s funny that she’d say that because she knows you’ll do the exact opposite to what she’s just told you not to do.

You turn your head and there he is.

He’s with a blonde, their sitting on a small two seated couch. Her hand is placed on his leg whilst the other holds her drink. Fez’s hands don’t seem to be touching her but he has one arm resting on the couch behind her and the other is holding his joint in his hand. She is smiling and laughing at whatever he is saying, she then leans in and whispers something in his ear. That’s when his eyes lock with yours it’s almost like he knew you watching already and that he knew when the right time was to catch your gaze. His face is serious, it’s not really showing any emotion, you have a staring contest for a bout 5 seconds before he turns his head back to the girl and pretends to laugh at whatever she just said. Fuck him you say to yourself,you knew he was doing it to get a reaction out of you,Two can play at that game.

Okay so you wasn’t actually going to let any random guy flirt with you as 90% of the guys at this party do want a fuck so instead you found a guy from school that you knew from class, Jacob. you’d spoken a few times so you knew he wasn’t a creep. You handed him a 20 and asked him to flirt with you, he accepted once he saw the money. You both then made your way back into the lounge, you wasn’t going to stand straight in front of fezco because that’s too obvious instead you walked past him, Jacob following close behind his hand on the small of you back. You both made your way outside and sat down on one of the couches outside, you did this because you knew fez would follow and as if on cue you saw him from the corner of your eye, leaning against the wall watching you both whilst taking a sip of his beer.

“Okay so maybe just laugh at what I say? Run your hand down my back or something? Just make sure he can see” you say to Jacob. “Okay cool, wait do I get more money if he beats me up. Because he looks like he’d beat me up”

You roll your eyes “ yeah whatever, now laugh” the boy does as you say, you pretend to talk about something interesting for a few minutes, Jacob does as you say and runs his hand down your back. You can practically feel fezcos anger from here.

Then Jacob does something you didn’t expect, he tucks your hair behind your ear. Fuck, you say to yourself. That’s gonna of done it, that was one of fez’s favourite things to do.The next thing you see is Jacob being lifted off his seat, fez has now lost his drink and joint and has a fistful of Jacobs shirt, they’re face to face.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing touching my girl like that” fez spits

“Fez!” You shout standing up and standing close to them both.

“ you really gon let him touch you like that” fez says

“ oh you can talk! You really gonna let that blonde bitch touch you like she did” you say, fez then looks at you.

“ you’re a fucking asshole fez, its one rule for you and one rule for me huh” you say. Fez let’s go of Jacob, Jacob uses this opportunity to scurry away.

“ well fuck you fezco” you say before wiping your eyes, wiping away the tears that you didn’t realise had started running. You turn to walk away but you feel him pull you back “hey y/n ” He shouts

“ no fuck of!” You shout at him then push his chest, he barely stumbles but let’s you go. You’re making a bee line to enter the house but before you know it you’re being lifted into the air,Two strong arms wrap round your torso lifting you up.

“Fez put me down right fucking now you psycho” he wasn’t a psycho, far from it but you thought it was a good insult at the time.

He carries you all the way through the house to his car. All eyes were on you both as made your way through the lounge, you see your friend Maddy as you pass and she winks at you.

Fez puts you in the backseat of the car before getting in beside you, he slams the door.

“ what’s your fucking problem y/n, why you letting some random dude touch you like that fuck knows what he’d try and do” fez says running a hand over his head, he still seems irritated but not as irritated as before. His voice is softer.

“ same reason as to why you let that girl touch your leg and whisper in your ear” you say looking away from him. You’re sat in the back seat, you play with your hands in your lap. You hear him let out a laugh

“Shit ok, we playing games with eachother now”

“ you started it” you reply bluntly. You then feel his eyes on you staring at the side of your head. You feel like the silence goes on forever before you hear fez sigh and say

“Look… I’m real fucking sorry y/n, for everythin

“Yeah? what exactly are you sorry for fez? That fact that you broke up with me or for letting that blondie touch you”

“I am sorry baby, you gotta believe me. I regret breaking up with you I just… I thought it was for the best. This ain’t no life for you, you’re too good for me and I can’t let any trouble come to you”

“That’s not your decision to make fez, it’s my life I make my own choices” you say turning your head to look at him

“ ah fuck, I know that but. “

“But what fez! They’re are not buts. You like me and I like you what’s the problem”

“ they’re ain’t a problem with you liking me ma, it’s what comes along with it that the problem”

“ well then we will face that challenge when we come to it, ive been with you for 3 months. Everything’s been fine so far!”

“ I know I know, I’m sorry. Look I ain’t saying I don’t wanna be with you. But, if we do this you gotta promise me as soon as shit goes south you’ll run.” You smile and nod

“ I will”

“ you promise?” He asks

“I promise” you reply

“ shit alright then, come here” he says before lifting you up and sitting you on his lap so you are straddling him.

“ I’ve missed you so much you have no idea, I’ve been goin fucking crazy” fez says before placing a soft kiss on your lips

“ I know, ash told me” you say to him then kiss him again

“ ash? What else has he been saying?” Fez asks raising his eyebrows

“ nothing much, nothing for you to worry about anyway” you say then kiss him again.

“ you know, that blondie had nothing on you girl” fez says moving his lips to your neck. His hands squeeze your waist.

“Yeah? Well that guy had nothing on you either fezco” you say biting your lip as he kisses your neck. You then feel fez’s hand slide up your front, he starts to pull the front of your dress down releasing your boobs “fuck I’ve missed your ti-“ he starts to say but is interrupted when the drivers door opens

“Sorry y’all I’m real happy you made up but I’m tired as fuck, can we get the fuck outta here “ ash says looking anywhere but at you both. You pull your dress back up to cover yourself and you hear fez sigh a little

“Yeah man” fez replies. You smirk and give fez another quick kiss on the lips before getting off him. You stay in the back whilst fez fixes his crotch before getting out and jumping in the passenger side, due to fez drinking Ash was driving home. Home, you couldn’t wait to get there. You felt like fez’s place was more of a home to you than you’re parents house. So you couldn’t wait to get back there, besides you and fez had a lot more making up to do.

[contemplativepancakes]

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

-

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

what the fuck I just found this in my drafts I literally wrote this years ago, like a very significant number of years ago this is old shit

and apparently I just saved it and forgot about it??? anyway I polished it up and now it is here, I have no context and I barely even remember writing it, enjoy!

my apologies for the long post I still can't figure out how to do read mores in the app

edit: some lovely people have unformed me how to use readmores, thank you ~

-----

Jack was starting to wonder perhaps if he'd done something wrong.

It wasn't uncommon for him to accidentally say or do something to upset his wife or daughter, although usually when such an event occurred Maddie would glare at him to express her displeasure, and Jazz would always take the opportunity to tell him in exact detail what he'd done wrong and how to make it up to them (something he was honestly very grateful for).

It must have been something pretty bad this time, because both women wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Jack first twigged that something was off that morning during breakfast, when he sat in the empty chair by Jazz's side and gave his usual greeting, "Hey Jazzypants!"

She ignored his presence completely, steely eyes glued to the wall opposite her, they were puffy and red and Jack wondered perhaps if she'd been crying.

It had been a long time since her problems were easily pushed aside by her father's warm hugs and jovial attitude, he had stopped being able to handle a crying Jazz after she'd turned twelve and countered his attempts at humour by insisting that he 'stop trivialising her distress', whatever THAT meant.

Nevertheless, warm hugs and gentle jokes were the only method he knew and so he wrapped a comforting arm around her thin shoulders, noting that she continued to sit still as a rock, not even glancing his way as he tried to coax a smile out of her.

Jazz didn't say a word as she pushed herself away from her unfinished breakfast and left the room.

It was when he walked down to the lab intending to ask Maddie about Jazz that Jack started to suspect he may have been the one responsible, as it became apparent that the two had seemed to coordinate their punishment for whatever transgression he'd made.

"Hey Mads!" his voice boomed over the noise of his wife's current project. He strained to see through the bright light of her blow torch at the large gun-like weapon on the table. Jack whistled in appreciation is he took in the size of what he assumed was some kind of rocket launcher. "So what are we calling this one? Ooh! How about, The Fenton Spectre 'Sploder!"

Maddie's goggles made it difficult to see what expression adorned her face, but her tensed shoulders and the shaky grip on the blow torch told him that she was most certainly upset about something.

"Mads? Are you alright?" his voice quivered slightly as he took a few steps closer, seeing his wife this tense tightened a coil within his chest. Suspecting that he may be responsible added an extra weight to his stomach that he knew wasn't cause by the breakfast he'd skipped.

The light from the blow torch snapped off and Jack had to blink the bright spots it left behind from his vision, trying to peer through the blotches to find any indication that Maddie was going to acknowledge his presence. It seemed as though she'd looked his way for a moment but before his eyes could clear enough to meet hers she'd looked away again.

Jack watched, puzzled as his wife raised a hand to cover her mouth and catch the sob that ripped its way from her throat, she hadn't succeeded as the sound echoed across the lab and tore its way straight through Jack's heart, causing his eyes to sting and his throat to close up.

He reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, intent on giving her some form of comfort. He'd barely brushed it with his finger tips before Maddie stormed right past him up to the stairs, Jack had to quickly stumble backwards to avoid being trampled.

He couldn't imagine what he possibly could have done to elicit such a response from the woman he loved, but he knew for sure that he must have done something terrible for her to not seek him out for comfort like she did any other time she was upset. He just wished he could remember what.

Jack's shoulders slumped under the dim light of the glowing jars of ectoplasm lining the various counter-tops, he dry-swallowed a few times, trying to push down his confusion and distress before following his wife's light footsteps up the stairwell.

He found her in the kitchen, leaning against a counter with her goggles slung around her neck and her wild red hair loose around her head, abundant with the kinks and tangles Jack usually watched her brush out of it every morning.

"Mads?" Jack said, voice rough and quiet, "Look I... if I did something wrong I-" Jack's apology froze in his throat as Jazz poked her head through the kitchen door, eyes once again glancing right over Jack and instead locking onto her mother.

Neither woman shared a word as Jazz crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Maddie, who desperately grabbed at her daughter in return, burying her face in long red hair as violent sobs wracked her whole body.

Jack, at a loss of what else to do, wrapped his own arms around his girls. Nestling his chin on his daughters hair, he expected the annoyed scoff that Jazz usually gave him for his 'chin noogies', but it never came. Neither Fenton woman pushed him away though, so Jack considered it progress.

Finally, after an age of rocking and sobbing, Maddie's muffled words escaped through strands of Jazz's hair.

"Where is he? W-where'd he go, where'd he go?"

A deep chill coursed through Jack's veins, Danny? Had something happened to Danny? Jack pulled away, a million questions thrumming through his mind.

What happened? Was he missing? Was he hurt? Had he run away, been kidnapped, been kill- no. Jack shook his head violently, running a hand through the shorts strands of his thick hair. No he couldn't be. He couldn't be he couldn't be.

Jack's mouth was on the verge of catching up to his brain, multiple questions bubbled at his lips when he heard a voice echo down the stairs.

"Jazz?"

Jack took a steadying breath and grasped at the counter for support, relief flooding his body as his son rounded the corner and came into view. Danny was fine, Danny was safe. He had been fretting over absolutely nothing.

Then Danny's eyes locked into his.

A number of emotions flickered across his son's face, the first being a brief moment of sheer relief and delight, but it didn't last. Soon, too soon, Danny's dark brows pulled together and his lips curled sourly in confusion before a new expression swept it away. It was one Jack had never seen before.

He felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room, an icy chill prickled up his arms as the sudden wave of absolute horror overtook Danny's face. Jack couldn't tell if his son was about to break down crying or scream.

And then it was over. The tension in Jack's limbs released as Danny's face flattened into an unnaturally blank expression, he dropped his gaze and continued his way over to Maddie and Jazz. Once again it was like Jack wasn't even there.

Danny placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Maybe you should do another lap around town, you might find something today." he spoke softly into her frazzled hair.

Jazz looked at Danny strangely, her brother sent her back a glance that must have held some meaning because she then gripped Maddie tightly around the shoulders and led her straight out of the house, and suddenly Jack recalled that he still didn't know who it was that had gone missing.

"So... is anyone gonna tell me what's going on?" the jovial tone Jack meant to use came out flat and strained, Danny didn't look even remotely amused.

"I think you should sit down." Danny said quietly. He was no longer meeting Jack's eyes as he pulled out a chair for himself and one for his father.

Jack took the offered seat and prepared himself for the worst, obviously someone dear to Maddie and the kids had gone missing, Jack ran a list of all the people they knew, preparing himself for the worst, it was obvious Danny did not want to tell him what had happened. Perhaps whoever was missing was someone that Jack in particular had been close to? Was that the reason behind the horrified look on Danny's face? Because he'd realised he was going to have to be the one to tell him?

Something in Jack's gut told him he was on the wrong track, but try as he might he just couldn't imagine what else it could possibly be.

Jack kept his eyes on his son as the boy's thin torso straightened up in his chair and his icy blue stare bored into Jack's. Danny took a deep breath, then took several more, eventually he seemed almost ready to speak, Jack didn't rush him.

"Dad... you're dead."

[tressasinterlude]

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 #𝟑: Female Public Figures Dating Men with Questionable Views That Contradict Their Image & Alleged Politics

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥: These rant blog posts are really just reflective of my thoughts at the time that I make them and are posted here because I need an outlet to release all of this shit I have going on my busy ass mind. That’s it and that’s all. Now let’s get into it..

This rant was greatly inspired by none other than Ms. Robyn Rihanna “Tell Your Faves To Pull Up [in regards to social injustices directly affecting black people]” Fenty and her openly colorist boyfriend, A$AP Rocky. Aside from the fact that Rihanna tends to slip under the radar and is never held accountable for her problematic ways due to her conventional beauty (i.e. Her heavy usage of anti-Asian slurs, particularly targeted towards Chris Brown’s ex gf, Karrueche), it’s very alarming that a woman who has an entire makeup brand with a campaign based around the inclusivity of ALL black women is publicly flaunting a beau who once said that DSBW do not look good with red lipstick.

And yes, I’m very much aware that Rakim said this tasteless comment over 8 years ago but from the looks of it, not much has really changed with him. Don’t @ me about it neither because I don’t care.

Also peep how he compares a hypothetical darkskinned woman to a man (Wesley Snipes) while trying to explain how his antiblackness isn’t wrong because he said something about white women as well. Gaslighting at its finest. Don’t you just love it! 😀

Furthermore, you would think that somebody of Rihanna’s level of stature would know not to associate themselves with someone as messy as A$AP Rocky but... Stupid is what stupid does, I guess! I can’t even begin to place the blame on him anymore because he’s revealed his true colors and we all have made the deliberate choice to either accept it or don’t and have discontinued all support for him. Unfortunately, misogynoir is never the dealbreaker for most people and the hatred for [dark-skinned] black women is so engrained in society that it’s frowned upon when we publicly speak out against it. Very ass backwards if you ask me but that’s society for you. Now, enough about that. Let’s focus back on Ms. Vita La Coco.

As a woman who claims to be a girl’s girl and is always presenting herself to be someone who is the epitome of a pro-black feminist bad ass, it just makes her alleged activism come off so disingenuous when she’s also laying down with the same man that actively attacks the demographic she’s supposed to be standing in solidarity with. It’s “Black Lives Matter” on the IG posts but your vagina is getting moist for a man who openly stated he doesn’t relate to what goes on in Ferguson because he lives in Soho & Beverly Hills. Ferguson being the exact place where a 17-year-old black boy’s lifeless corpse laid on the hot concrete for FOUR hours after he was murdered by a police officer. He couldn’t 'relate' to the fate of so many black men, women, and children who are murdered or seriously injured from state-sanctioned violence because they’re poor and he is not or so he thought.

But then again, what can I really expect from a woman who identified as being “biracial” until as recent as roughly 6 years ago? What can I really expect from a woman who called Rachel Dolezal a ‘hero’ for cosplaying as a black woman? I’d be lying if I said my expectations for her were high in this regard because sis has always shown us she was lacking in this department. And just for the record, this is not a personal attack on Rihanna at all for the die-hard Navy stans in the back. I admire her latest fashions and bop my head to her music just like the next person but she’s getting the side-eye from me on this one.

Trust and believe me though, she’s not the only woman who I can call out for being a hypocrite. Of course not! This stone can be cast at a few others. So without further ado, why don’t we bring Ms. Kehlani Parrish to the front of the congregation? Prior to Kehlani’s recent declaration of identifying as a lesbian, her last public relationship with a man was with YG. Yes, the same YG who felt it was necessary to say him & Nipsey had ‘pretty light-skinned’ daughters to raise in the middle of his deceased friend’s memorial. By the way, Nipsey’s daughter is not even light (or at least not in my book anyways.) She’s a very deep caramel tone just like her father which makes what he said even more moronic. Yes, the same YG who thought it was clever idea to use slavery as an aesthetic for a music video to a diss track about 6ix9ine. And yes, also the same YG who has derogatory lyrics targeted at bisexual women. Just to end up sweating the red carpets with one. I swear the jokes just continue to write themselves.

This raises the question once more; How high of a pedestal can I really put a multiracial woman who has a song titled ‘N*ggas’ and when received backlash for the song in question, she used the ultimate ‘I’m mixed’ copout while not having a visibly black parent in sight?

It’s also kind of suspicious to me that many were not privy to Kehlani’s secret romance with Victoria Monét (pictured bottom right) until Victoria did an interview with Gay Times revealing she fell in love with a girl but they subsequently broke up because Victoria had a boyfriend and that girl was pregnant in a polyamorous relationship. Fans began to speculate because both Victoria & Kehlani previously candidly spoke about their sexual orientations, Kehlani had just had Adeya and they both were seemingly close. Their short-lived fling would later be confirmed when Victoria released the song ‘Touch Me’ on her last project and Kehlani hopped on the remix. Meanwhile, Kehlani’s relationship with Shaina (pictured bottom left) was very overt and all over her Instagram feed from my recollection. And as you can see, Shaina looks absolutely nothing like Victoria. They look like the complete opposite of eachother in every aspect which is kind of alarming(?) to say the least because why is it that the women she proudly claims as her partners tend to have a very racially ambiguous look such as herself but her ‘sneaky links’ on the other hand are undoubtedly black women? Again, it could just be me jumping conclusions. You know, I’m kinda good for that however something tells me I’m not. Y’all be the judge of the material though.

Last but not least, I’d like to touch on Ms. Raven Tracy very briefly. I was very weary about even including in this segment and if I should just put her in a entirely separate blog post with other women who openly date abusers despite their checkered past (alongside Nicki Minaj & her r*pist murderer of a husband, India Love & Sheck Wes etc.) being this particular blog post was based around the theme of lightskinned/mixed women dating men with extremely problematic views about DSBW. Raven obviously isn’t lightskinned or mixed however I refused to ignore how contradictory her [former] relationship with an alleged (I used this word very loosely and mainly for legality purposes.) serial r*pist while promoting a brand that is all about feminism & body positivity. This also traces back to A$AP Rocky by default being that Ian Connor is his very close friend and he came to Connor’s defense when several women came forward detailing accounts of Connor allegedly s*xually assaulting them. (I wish I could place the actual video of what A$AP Rocky said verbatim but Tumblr only allows one video per blog post. 🙄)

Back in June of this year, Ian & Raven had a back & forth on Twitter after Ian tweeted about Raven “fucking everybody” behind his back. I can only assume that he was alluding to Tori Brixx posting a video of her ex, Rich the Kid & Raven kissing on her story. Disgusted is not even the word to describe my feeling when she admitted she stuck by Ian despite of his many allegations of s*xual abuse because she loved him and her being a empath causes her to want to help everybody. Imagine aiding and abetting a predator and even paying for his bail & legal fees just to turn around and expect sympathy because this same individual cheated on you and exploited you all over Twitter for the public to see. The same man that you would get back with not even a WEEK after the fact & turn off your IG comments because it isn’t our “business” after making it our business...

That being said, I just genuinely want to know: Why do these women completely go against what they stand for in regards to these men? Maybe it was never genuine from jump street and if that’s the case, why jump on the bandwagon of performative activism? Is it because it’s profitable right now? Is it because disrespecting black women is not an immediate death sentence to your careers and more often than not actually helps you advance even further? I guess that’s the billion dollar question that’ll never truly be answered. I just want the world to stop using black women as their stepping stool to get to where they need to go and then discarding of us when we’re no longer beneficial. Support us all the way or don’t support us at all. We deal with enough disrespect as is so we’d appreciate if y’all would stop straddling the fence and partake in your misogynoir out loud if that’s what you choose to do. We have no use for fake allyship and quite frankly, it’s doing more harm for us than good. Please and thank you!

Sincerely,

- 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂 𝙴𝙳𝙶𝙰𝚁 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙾𝙴. 💋