#but obviously the game ends before you can see any of her results

[odinsonslut]

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n:  I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm. 

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated. 

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued. 

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself. 

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

-

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention. 

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms 

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

-

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.  

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through 

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond. 

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise  I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.” 

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand. 

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

[general-fanfiction]

Hopes And Fears. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3,073

Gif Not Mine. Requests are open!

Warnings: Violence, Swear Words, Hints Of Rape?

I’m not too sure how I feel about this to be honest but it’s my first fic since coming back and I would love to write for Wally more so please send requests! I might continue with this if people like it, I’m not sure yet though.

“Homecoming game tonight. Are you nervous?”

Closing my locker, I look to my left to see Abby, my best friend since elementary school. We’re inseparable. People find it odd that we look like we are complete opposites and yet we are the platonic loves of each other's lives. She’s a very loud and extroverted theater kid, I’m quiet, shy and introverted. Though in a weird turn of events, I became head cheerleader. Kind of ironic right?

“I’m not too worried. We’ve been rehearsing everyday, sometimes twice a day. I think we might actually have our best routine yet, I just hope we can pull it off.”

“You’ll be great, you always are. Besides I heard Spencer is going to ask you to be his date for homecoming.”

Abby’s words catch me off guard. Spencer is the Split River High quarterback. While typically the head cheerleader and quarterback are perfect for each other, I’m way below his level that the thought of us being together is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine it, that’s how ludicrous the idea of us is. Not that I would complain, Spencer is model level attractive, an academic genius and of course, insanely popular. Any girl would die to be his homecoming date. Me included.

“Don’t be stupid.” The blush on my cheeks is a vibrant red as I speak, leaning against my locker with my books clenched against my chest.

“I’m being serious. Some of the other football guys were talking about it in study hall. Apparently he’s got some sort of big surprise planned.”

Her grin is wide, clearly happy for me, though I can’t match it. I still don’t believe it, that sort of thing does not happen to girls like me. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me. That’s just the way high school works, maybe I’ll blossom when I head off to college at the end of this year but for now, guys keep their distance. My mom always told me that high school guys like girls that are easy and that because I know my worth, guys don’t even attempt it. I’ve always hated that idea though. If nothing else but for the slightly sexist and anti-feminist ideals that it pushes.

“Not to alarm you Y/N but he’s walking down the hallway.” Abby tells me, grabbing my forearm tightly, obviously excited. “I think he’s headed this way so that’s my cue. Have fun, text me all the details!”

With that she scurries away, flashing me a cheesy smile over her shoulder as she speeds down the hallway. Almost bumping into several other students as she does so. I laugh slightly, always entertained by her antics before hearing the metal of the locker next to me clang at the sound of somebody leaning against it.

“Mind if I steal you for a second Y/N?”

Spencer’s voice is charming and smooth, a relaxed smirk on his face as he stares down at me. His eyes are intoxicating and I feel as though I’m drowning in them. There’s no way Abby could be right. God, if she is I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could live with that though, especially if it does result in Spencer potentially being my boyfriend.

“Sure, yeah, okay.”

Spencer’s smirk grows wider, and as he leans in to take my hand in his, I catch a whiff of his cologne. A dark musk that matches the darkness of his eyes and hair perfectly, it takes everything in me not to collapse right then and there. My senses are completely heightened and I can feel the roughness of his hand against my palm. The butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m about to explode from my nerves and before I know it we’ve made our way to the old block of showers that were closed in 2004, following an incident involving an inappropriate relationship between a student and gym coach. New showers were remodeled and these were left to decay.

Spencer takes my books out of my hands, placing them on the bench that sits in the center of the room before turning to face me. His hand gently cups my cheek and although his smile is soft and loving. His eyes hold a mischievous glint. Without saying anything he leans down to kiss me, unprepared and a little shocked I step backwards.

“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know you liked me.” I tell him, shuffling backwards again as he continues to approach me.

“Everybody likes you. I’ve just been wanting to save this for a special occasion, and what better time than homecoming?”

With my back pressed against the wall, a soft smile forms on my face as he cages me in. Though it doesn’t feel threatening, it feels new and exciting and my insides are on fire waiting to see what happens. I feel as though I finally understand what the cringey teen movies are talking about when they discuss sex and love and passion.

“I really like you Spencer.” I whisper, voice barely audible, gazing up at him through my lashes.

He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before leaning down once again. This time his lips do touch mine and it’s nothing like I imagined. He’s rough, hands moving down to grab my breasts , almost painfully. The softness from before clearly disappeared. As much as it is a dream come true to be making out with the guy of my dreams, I’m still disappointed that this is how my first kiss turned out. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and its uncomfortable, I know this isn’t how it is supposed to go. As I try to pull away, to allow myself some air, his hand grips my throat, holding me in place. Continuing his almost aggressive movements.

“Yo Spence, did you get the bitch?”

Finally, he pulls away. I manage to take in some air despite his hand still wrapped around my neck. He’s looking over his shoulder, nodding his head. The rest of the football team stands in the doorway, menacing looks on their faces as they see me in such a vulnerable position. I hear the click of the door lock, and the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel so good anymore. The energy in the room shifts to one of darkness and evil, no trace of kindness and love.

Spencer looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I fear for my safety. This is not the same guy that I was obsessed with. There is no sign of human emotion on his face, no sympathy or pity. Gripping his hand to try and pry it away from my throat, I feel the tears begin to prick in the corners of my eyes and upon seeing my reaction, he smiles. My pain is his pleasure. Despite my attempts at removing his hand, his grip only gets tighter and I’m pushed further against the wall.

“Let’s have some fun boys.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dull ache radiates through my body, pushing through the pain, I force myself to stand up. Staring at the room around me, I wonder if I was dreaming. However, with no sign of my books on the bench, I take that as confirmation that what I experienced did truly happen. Blood splatters the walls and floor but with no sign of injury on my body, I refuse to believe it’s mine. Sure, what happened was bad, but not that bad.

Not wanting to stay in this room any longer, I quickly make my way to the exit, pushing open the door with more force than necessary causing it to slam against the outside wall. Making the shy looking boy who happens to be standing outside jump. I smile apologetically, about to make my way past him when I notice what he’s wearing. Clad in double denim with round glasses, he looks straight out of Friends.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in because I thought you might feel kind of exposed but I wanted to introduce myself.” He says quietly, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Charlie.”

Shifting my gaze between his hand and his face, my mind can’t really comprehend what is happening. Why am I suddenly meeting someone new? By the old shower block of all places, especially after what has just happened to me. The confusion on my face must be obvious as he smiles before revoking his hand.

“You haven’t worked it out yet have you?” He asks, almost as though he doesn’t want to push me.

“You’re dead, cherry pop.”

Looking to my right, I spot a girl sat against the wall, blue lollipop between her lips that has stained them ever so slightly. Wearing a black turtleneck with a matching cap and pinstripe pants, she’s the kind of girl that would intimidate me had I seen her walking down the street. Who am I kidding? She still intimidates me.

“Rhonda, Mr Martin told us to be gentle with her!”

“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere to be but you two look great.” I tell them, beginning to walk away and head towards the main school building.

“Did you not hear me? You’re dead, you don’t have anywhere to be.” The girl, I’m assuming Rhonda, shouts after me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Look I don’t know what sort of joke this is, but it’s not funny. Seriously, go find some other kid to pick on.”

As I walk into the school building, I begin my mission of searching for Abby, hoping I can find her in the auditorium or even the costume department. My search doesn’t take too long, as my assumptions proved correct. She is sitting on the stage, the theater club’s newest script in one hand and her phone in the other. Our text thread open on her screen, as I sit myself beside her, she doesn’t even acknowledge me, eyes flicking between her phone and the script.

“Abby, I need to tell you something but you have to swear you will not tell anyone.”

She completely ignores me, flipping the page of her script. Its as if I’m invisible to her, a joke that isn’t funny. Waving my hand in front of her face in an attempt to get her attention also proves futile as she doesn’t even look up. Glancing at her phone I notice she’s messaged me multiple times asking me of my whereabouts, telling me she’s seen Spencer but she didn’t see me with him, asking me if I am his homecoming date.

“Abby, seriously? This is important, your show can wait.”

“She can’t hear you.” Charlie says, him and Rhonda standing in front of me, arms resting on the edge of the stage. “Or see you, we’re invisible to them. Nothing you do is going to change that.”

“I don’t get it, why isn’t she answering me?” I ask, panic starting to set it as I grow more and more confused at my situation.

“Oh my god, do I really have to tell you again? Are you that fucking stupid? You’re dead. D-E-A-D. Deceased. Not living.” Rhonda speaks slowly, using a voice you would use for a child.

“I can’t be dead. There’s no way, it’s just not possible.”

“Yeah it takes some getting used to, but we’re all friends and you’ll come to terms with it soon enough. Mr Martin’s support group helps too.” Charlie tells me, smiling encouragingly as I watch Abby walk away with some of the other theater kids.

“Support group?” I ask, hopping off the stage to stand with the only two people that can see me.

“Come on, we’ll take you.” Rhonda states, almost as if it's more of a chore and not like she offered to take me.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in a circle with the rest of the group, I can’t help my heart racing as I spot the football player sitting amongst everyone. He reminds me of Spencer and that’s what makes me nervous, or maybe it’s just the fact that he plays football. Either way I can’t help but feel on edge, hence why I placed myself in the furthest seat from him.

As I take in the rest of the room, I notice the basketball team playing further down the court. Not aware of the existence of the group of ghosts sat in a circle like they’re in an AA meeting. It feels so surreal, almost like an intricate nightmare that I will wake up from at any moment. Yet everything I’ve seen so far has been pretty real.

“We have a new student, would you like to introduce yourself?” The only teacher, who I am guessing is Mr Martin asks, as I feel all eyes divert their attention towards me.

The football player has a gentle aura around him, smiling at me as he waits for an answer to Mr Martin’s question. I look away quickly, unable to face the feelings of sickness in my stomach that I get when I look at him.

“I’m Y/N.”

The group mumbles a chorus of welcomes as I stare at the floor, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am actually dead.

“It’s hard at first, but I’m grateful that you decided to give the group a shot. It helps us all to move forward instead of focusing on our deaths and the past.” Mr Martin tells me, offering a look of sympathy. “Charlie, Rhonda, thank you for being Y/N’s guide, I’m sure it was very helpful.”

“So how did you die? In the old showers clearly, but that’s gotta be an interesting story right?” Rhonda asks, her eyes piercing into me as she places the lollipop back between her lips.

“Rhonda, you can’t just ask people that. Let her get used to us at least.”

His voice startles me, it’s as gentle as his aura. Soft and ever so charming. The protection in his tone is obvious as though he doesn’t wanna frighten me away and I glance at him for a moment. His football shirt sits perfectly against his toned chest and a gold chain hangs delicately from his neck. He’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.

“I’m Wally by the way, Wally Clark.” His voice is directed at me, staring at me intently.

At that moment, I can’t help but be transported back to before. Remembering my screams and pleads for them to stop. Praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. They never did. They never stopped.

Jumping up from my chair, I feel myself getting worked up as I sprint out of the room. Terrified of reliving the past. Finding myself in an abandoned hallway, I slide against the wall until I’m sitting on the cold linoleum floor. Staring at the lockers as I try to calm my breathing.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Charlie asks, crouching in front of me with a concerned expression on his face. “Wally’s shitting himself thinking he did something wrong. I told him to hang back while I spoke to you.”

I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at Charlie, feeling guilty that I’ve potentially upset an innocent boy because of my own trauma. I can’t go back to the group, I know I can’t. It would be in the best interests of every other ghost if I do my best to simply avoid Wally. That way nobody gets hurt.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I can’t do it, I can’t go back to the group. I can’t see him in that fucking uniform. I just can’t, I’m sorry.” My sobs are uncontrollable and I feel bad even just for putting Charlie through this when he’s known me for all of two hours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Is it the uniform, we can get him to change I’m sure, I know it’s not the best look but it is all he had since he died in his shoulder pads and all.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeves of my jumper. Charlie offers me his hand to help me stand up which I take graciously. He places a hand on my shoulder as a sign of encouragement, along with a gentle smile.

“I mean it Charlie. I can’t go back to the group. I don’t want to relive the memories.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She’s adamant she’s not coming back.” Charlie tells the group, all of them awaiting the answers he has for them as to why the new girl ran away. “I don’t think it’s anything personal Wally but she said she can’t see you in that uniform and I think she may have had something happen regarding the football players. I don't wanna speculate though.”

“So, what? Her footballer boyfriend cheated on her and now she can’t look at poor, innocent Wally because it reminds her of him?” Rhonda asks, unimpressed by the lack of answers Charlie has.

“No, I think it’s something more than that. Something deeper. I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready but for now, I would stop wearing the uniform Wally.”

The footballer didn’t need to be told twice, he instantly pulls the shirt over his head leaving him in only a tight, white tank top. Charlie smiles in appreciation, while Rhonda scoffs slightly upon seeing his muscular arms.

“Okay, so I’ve ditched the uniform, should I apologize or what?” Wally asks, looking at the group to gauge their reactions.

“Maybe now isn’t a good time Wally.” Mr Martin states, trying to think rationally. “I’d give it a day or so.”

“Or maybe just leave her alone for a while. Let her come out of her shell a bit first.” Charlie interjects.

“Yeah, let's not hurt cherry pop’s feelings.” Rhonda replies sarcastically, staring directly at Charlie.

As the rest of the group session continues, Wally stays silent, playing with the football uniform in his hands as he attempts to figure out different ways to apologize. To help her feel more at home in her new life, and potentially help her overcome the trauma of her death. Despite not managing to come up with a good idea, he does decide one thing. He will do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and become her friend.

[bikiniarmorbattledamage]

Baldur's Gate 3 (Part 1 - Introduction)

It's a great time to be an old school Dungeons & Dragons player, you get to smugly observe millions of people realizing the game is good actually... or at least that the game can facilitate heart touching romances with imaginary, terrible people.

(To be clear, I'm not judging you - these two are, but I'm not)

As one of the biggest AAA games of 2023, it's unsurprising that it's big and complicated - and there's a lot that can be talked about with many aspects of it - including female armor and costumes. Indeed, there's already a lot of commentary on it and community activity, from the confusing, to the life affirming.

It has also been the topic of how corporate practices continually reward those who participate in the creation successful art with notice of dismissal.

And of course, both Dungeons & Dragons and Larian Studios have histories that we've touched on before - and I can confidently say it represents a huge improvement in quality, style and attitudes. Plus sometimes their advertising is just gay.

There's good, there's bad, there's inspired and there's missed opportunities - so it'd be impossible to sum it all up in one post.

Also, now it's finished... I can feel safe commenting on it and not being told "that's changing next week" - that's the excuse I'm using for being so late to the party on this one.

It'll also be impossible to avoid talking about it without some spoilers. So I'll try to cover as much as possible spoiler-free, then put spoilers below a read-more break.

-wincenworks

In General

It's pretty good. Most of the costumes and armors are essentially gender neutral and the ones that do change seem to do so in response to social conventions, rather than a desire to sex shit up sexy - but where you can sex shit up sexy, it applies equally across genders. (Seriously, Lae'zel's lingerie looks amazing on Gale (nsfw 🖼️) and he's not the sort you'd think could rock it).

Looking at the artbook that I have because I'm one of those people who buys deluxe editions - it looks like there might have been a few early stumbles in concept but these were smoothed out before release.

There are some amazing examples (Minthara), and some baffling designs (all Githyanki armor), some interesting (Orin's) and some that are complicated (Dame Aylin's).

But overall it's pretty good and I would certainly like to see more fantasy media take it's lead from these sorts of designs.

So let's start with a few examples of how everything is complicated.

Why goblins have sexy armor?

The goblins in Baldur's Gate 3 are disgusting, sadistic raiders who are primarily interested in killing, torturing and enslaving all other races. They don't seem to have any crafts people of their own, preferring to steal and adapt.

So it's puzzling that, statistically, when most players encounter them they get this cutscene to showcase a goblin in sexy leathers.

Now, these goblins don't have a sense of shame - or at least not one related to things like nudity taboos. They're not exactly tactical masterminds or great crafts people.

So there's no reason for her to have masterwork armor, or hide her body... but this particular piece looks like pretty lovingly crafted lingerie made specifically to be sexy and flaunt as much skin as possible.

And the couple of goblins that have this, stand out among the rest of the goblins... who are mostly wearing scraps and bits and pieces they've cobbled together with nowhere near this level of craftsmanship.

Obviously, this outfit is not ideal with the sharp bits poking out... but it's pretty intimidating and it'd make it things more difficult for an enemy trying to stop Zurga from killing them so it works.

The end result is weird… but also oddly foretold.

Great armor, terrible disguise

Now, this is great armor - a little flashy with a lot of extra doodads - but from a fantasy perspective, it conveys the message and that the wearer is a pragmatic person prioritizing their own self-preservation.

Honestly this is one of the best examples of armor that is designed to be fancy without becoming completely unworkable, like it is real armor that's been adapted for ceremony. It has layers and while you would expect it to quickly become damaged beyond recognition, if you needed to be ready for a surprise scrap - it'd do the job and do it well enough (a cosplayer friend advised the breastplate is a little prone to being bumped but otherwise she didn't bump into anything)

(Though as a random reminder, if you're going for the very realistic approach - helmets should be a top priority. We accept that doesn't happen in video games like this though because we want to see those emotive, sexy faces - judging us for loving them.)

But Shadowheart is a priestess of Shar, and if you accept her as a companion she will happily tell you all about that and how an important part of being a priestess of Shar is secrets and concealing your faith from the masses...

There is also an explanation for why she happened to be in her ceremonial attire... but for most of the game, she demonstrates no awareness that she was in vestments when you met.

Now I understand that a lot of these choices are due to various experiments, iterations, etc. Shadowheart being an "authentic" priestess of Shar is not as important as her being an interesting companion in a fun game.

And now that I've definitely made sure nobody is going to "well actually" about the armor design or Forgotten Realms lore... a conspiracy theory:

Karlach's outfit (#freethenipple)

So when you meet the tiefling muscle-mommy known as Karlach, her default outfit indicates that she does not partake in bras. (She's barbarian which is a class in D&D that protects themselves not with armor, but by getting so angry weapons do less damage to them... just go with it...) and despite the forced sexiness of this design - it kinda fits her backstory:

So, she has a definite look, and apparently does not partake the wearing of bras... good for her! She's literally so hot that fire flickers off her, the boob sweat has got to be epic.

Interesting, Karlach is one two female characters who's "camp clothes" are listed specifically as "trousers".

The other one is always in pants and bra on female characters (but not male), but for some reason Karlach's trousers include this top that... just doesn't match the rest of her style and is nothing like her underwear (which also doesn't match her style):

So it seems this seems to be an odd case where in a game where you can access full nudity easily, and they gave her sexy armor... they did a last minute cover up to prevent the woman who would have the epic boobsweat imaginable walking around camp topless... and her model has a lot of detail that gets hidden by that top and her armor. (nsfw 🖼️)

And I know I am not the only one (nsfw link) who has had this idea.

Unless you just go into inventory and take her clothes off..., then toggle so she's always in "camp clothes" and always nude. It's just weird that the players are fully able to make her a nudist, but the game seems to have stopped at the last minute at making her go casually topless.

-wincenworks

[sheluvv-gambino]

Can you do a 42 miles x reader. He has a crush on her and she’s really bold don’t give no fucks so, when they meet he’s rude and she gives back that same energy. 😂

Spitfire.

A/N: I hope i served your vision justice, anon!

pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader

summary : It dosen't matter who it is, you refuse for any man to put fear in your blood. Yes, that includes Miles Morales.

warnings : cursing I guess?

You had been at the school for maybe a month and yet you had still not bumped into the infamous Miles Morales. Until…

bang!

Your shoulder collided with something hard. Well someone with brick like muscles that was just standing in the middle of the hall staring at something you didn’t know and didn’t care about.

“What, you don’t know where your going or something…?” The figure spoke.

You looked up to see a tall brown skin with a screwed up face glaring down at you.

“Who the fuck are you talkin’ to right now?” You exclaimed. I mean the audacity of this guy right now. “Ion know about you but where i’m from we don’t stand in the middle of a crowded hall like you don’t got a clue where your supposed to go.”

You walked away in a prideful step.

Your mother raised you better then to take any form of disrespect.

But from that whole interaction with Miles you were oblivious to the fact that the reason Miles had stopped was because he was caught up texting Ganke about how he should approach you. You caught his eye the moment you stepped in with your Jordan’s that were identical to his. So when your shoulder collided with his he didn’t want to act like a total fool and stare at your astonishing eyes, instead he acted defensive as he does with everyone else. What he wasn’t expecting was you to rebuttal by cussing him out then walking away with not a single look back. Yeah, he was certain that he was going to fall in love with you somehow.

————————-

It was about about an hour after school on a Friday and your new found friend group had invited you out to a basketball court where the most social interaction happened between people your own age.

Obviously, there was a game going on the basketball court.

Miles seemed to be involved with it.

So whilst he was playing you got the chance to admire him.

As much of a dick you truly thought he was, you couldn’t help but stare at the way his two cornrows shaped his sharp features. He was quite attractive but you wouldn’t dare to admit it considering he clearly didn’t know how to move out of the way when in the hauls.

Miles was just about to shoot when he looked to his left and saw you staring at him. He couldn’t seem to break the eye contact that you both held. In result he missed the basket and got a chorus of…

“…Milesss!”

“C’mon man!”

“How’d you miss that, Miles?!”

He really didn’t care even that he may have jeopardised his teams end result of the game.

“Hol’ on i’ll be back later.” He muttered as he dropped the ball and drifted to where you and your friends were.

His teammates looked around to see where Miles lost his head because there was no way Miles would ever walk out of a game just like that.

Your friends were all looking around to see who Miles was headed too.

When Miles sat beside you on the bench your friends all decided to act like 3rd graders and start with the “Oooh!”.

You glared up at him before he decided to speak.

“Before you decide to cuss me out again, I just wanted to apologise for acting like a dumbass and talking to you crazy.” Miles said as he put his hands up in surrender.

A small grin graced your lips. A man that actually apologised like a gentlemen, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“We’ll i accept your apology. My names Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I know. I’m Miles Morales.”

“I know.”

6 months later…

You and Miles were cuddled up in your bed back at home as a your favourite movie played in the background.

“Y’know I had a crush on you before we actually met in the hall.” He whispered as his thumb stroked your skin on your shoulder.

You moved your head up against his chest and looked at him longingly as a signal to continue.

“That’s why I stopped in the middle of the hall…I was asking Ganke about how to approach you. And then you cussed me out for no reason!”

“Uh uh, I had to put you in your place for giving me attitude.”

“Mhm sure, guapa. OW!”

You looked down to see your cat (Simba) playing with Miles’ foot by biting and gnawing on it.

“Aww Simba is finally showing you love!” You giggled.

“Yeah, whatever.”

[aihoshiino]

Rie Takahashi Interview (Oshi no Ko Anime Guidebook: First Report)

In the recently released First Report guidebook, a number of key staff members from the Oshi no Ko anime project were interviewed about their work on the show - so you can imagine my excitement when I saw that not only was Takahashi one of those interviewed, but that she had a lot to say about her performance as Ai and how she interpreted her character. I just had to translate it!

I will say up front that I have no intention of translating the other interviews in the book - this one took me long enough as it was and I fully admit it was pure blorbo bias that kept me going the whole time lol. Given that an English release of Glare x Sparkle is already in the works at YenPress, I imagine an English version of First Report might not be far behind so be sure to support it when it comes out. I'm just impatient lol.

As usual, this TL is a combo of my own comprehension, various online dictionaries such as Jisho.org, some MTL and me collapsing, weeping into smarter people's DMs to beg for their help. If you catch any mistakes, please let me know!

Anyway, enough rambling. Check out the interview behind the cut!

Please tell us about your favourite scene and line from episode 1.

Since Ai only appears in the first episode, I really wanted to make every moment count, so each and every one of her lines are special in their own way. It's hard to choose just one, but as a fan of the original work, the line "lies are an exceptional form of love" was one I was especially particular about. Since it's the line that truly encapsulates everything about Ai, I wanted to make sure that one stuck in people's minds.

You've said in the past you were an 'Oshi no Ko' fan even before being involved in the project.

While I was reading the original work, I actually admired Akane-chan the most. Obviously, I loved Ai as well, but being a voice actress myself, I was particularly interested in how a genius actress like Akane-chan prepared for her roles and what performances she'd go on to give. The chapters where she rises above all the online harassment especially left a huge impression on me. Anyone who's worked as a creative or even just in the public eye probably knows what a pulse-pounding experience it can be when you see slanderous comments about yourself - feeling like all of society has turned its back on you and you have nowhere to belong, and not being able to talk to your parents about it. It was depicted with such care and detail that I ached with her as I read it. But then, seeing her rise back up and declare "I don't want to quit like this" gave me a lot of strength. I wanted to become an actress like Akane-chan, who could come back to acting no matter what struggles I went through.

Since I loved Akane-chan so much, when I heard there were auditions for 'Oshi no Ko', I thought "I want to play her!". I even had the thought of 'Since the original work touches so deeply on what it means to be an actor, if they don't get a good actor for this, I might end up hating Oshi no Ko!' (laughs)

As a result, when I was cast as Ai, I knew I had to step up my game. I told myself, "If I'm going to play Ai, I need to give it my everything. Anything less won't do." I gave it my all with that in mind.

Did you audition for the role of Ai?

Yes, I did. But I couldn't get Akane-chan out of my mind, so I gave her a shot at the table audition. When I was preparing, I went over the manga at home and tried voicing each character and scene and there's a part in episode seven where Akane-chan mimicks Ai as she says "I sure am sleepy. We record way too early". When I tried that scene, I went "Hold on, maybe I really am the best fit for Ai?"

I guess my hunch was right because I didn't even make it through the first screening for Akane (laughs). Because of that experience, I'm deeply grateful to (Iwami) Manaka-chan for playing my beloved Akane-chan. I love both her work and her approach as an actress, so I'm thrilled to be working alongside her. I started off as a troublesome hardcore fan thinking "If they don't cast good actors for 'Oshi no Ko,' I might end up hating it!" but now I'm just like "thank you, voice actors!!" (laughs)

Were there any scenes you thought would be particularly difficult to perform based on the script or the original work?

So, I prepared for the role by going over volume 1 of the manga, the scenes where Akane-chan channels Ai and the short story, but there wasn't much more material at the time (laughs). So just preparing for the role was tough.  During recording, I sometimes checked in with (Akasaka) Aka-sensei about Ai. Now the story has progressed and Ai's character has become more defined, I secretly get a little nervous every time I read a new chapter. "I hope my performance in episode 1 wasn't off... I hope...!" (laughs) Obviously, Aka-sensei and the team were present during recordings, so my portrayal was probably fine but a revelation about her could still catch me out (laughs)

What sort of things did you hear from Akasaka-sensei?

There's a scene where Ai talks to her ex on a public payphone. I had to make sure there was the right amount of distance between them, and whether or not Ai still had any attachment to or fondness for him. I'm the sort of fan who enjoys analyzing the original work so I had mixed feelings about getting told the answer (laughs). But because I knew all the ins and outs of her backstory, I could contextualize her behaviour and the things she says and does.

Another scene was when Ai was scouted off the street and talked about her past, mentioning being abused by her mom. She wasn't saying it with the sense of "it hurts, I can't take it, I want to die" but instead she weaponizes it like "look at what I've been through, poor little me, right?". I tried to make my performance a balance of resilience with her vulnerability.

Also, I was directed to keep the monologue before Ai gets stabbed "emotionless", so I ended up giving a much more detached and matter of fact performance than I'd initially planned.

Were you mindful of the differences between Ai in her private life and Ai on stage when performing?

The tricky part of portraying Idol Ai is that if I make her too distinct, she'll stop being Ai. For example, if I play her as an innocent, optimistic idol, she'd be Ruby, not Ai. I focused less on "what to do as Ai" and more on "what not to do". In "Viewpoint B," Ai says, "The "idol" Ai is pretty much the complete opposite of who I really am, but she's the person I'd like to be." so that was the feeling I used as my reference when portraying Idol Ai. Incidentally, in my work as a performer, I purposely try to avoid drawing a line between my public and private self. So for Ai as well, the switches between the real Ai and the idol Ai feel surprisingly seamless to me. It's not that there are two distinct faces, but that Idol Ai exists inside the real Ai so it's more a question of which side of herself she shows at any given moment.

Ai’s fans in the original story only know the Idol Ai. What do you think draws them to her?

Like in the lyrics of YOASOBI's song "Idol," she's nonchalant, carefree, and easygoing. I could've portrayed Idol Ai as more cutesy, bubbly and flirtatious, but I felt that wouldn't have a convincing appeal to characters in the story like Gorou-sensei and the otaku who support her. I wanted to make sure it was believable that idol otakus in this world end up falling for her. I think it's her more laid back vibe, not the hyper energetic or "look at me!" type, that charms people.

So what would you say is the appeal to fans in the real world who know her full backstory?

Firstly, Ai-chan's overwhelming visual appeal. When you think of shocking pink and purple, you think of Ai! (Yokoyari) Mengo-sensei’s art is so powerful, and the glittering animation is also fantastic. I also find Ai's professionalism in her work really appealing. While she has the cuteness of an idol, she's not just cute—she works with an incredible level of dedication and professionalism. I admire and love her for everything, including her behind-the-scenes efforts. It's impressive, she’s really cool! 

I’ve ended up with a lot more respect for the word ‘idol’ as a result. In the past, when my voice acting involved singing, dancing, and participating in unit activities, being described as an "idol voice actress" didn't quite sit right with me. But now, I realize how honorable and responsible that title is. Idols work hard behind the scenes, constantly smiling while singing and dancing, and performing so brilliantly. If there are moments when I'm called by the same title as those incredible idols, I feel I need to make an effort to match their quality, or it would be disrespectful. It really motivates me to do my best.

There’s a line in Ai's monologue where she says "I wanted to love someone, I wanted someone to love." Why do you think Ai wanted to give love rather than receive it?

It could be that she's looking for somewhere to belong, hoping that "if I can love, I might be loved in return". Ai's history of abuse and mistreatment likely made the love she received feel very different from the love most people experience. I think it all stems from Ai thinking of herself as an abnormal person - she might have believed that to be loved, she needed to become someone who could genuinely love others. It’s a bit of a chicken and egg situation with a lot of complex feelings. That’s just how I interpret it, though.

And in the end, she realizes her love for the twins is not a lie.

I think that Ai loved the twins all along, not just in that last moment. But the word “love” was like a curse for her, so she couldn't actually say it. That feeling only intensified after I watched the anime. There's an anime original bit where Ai kisses the twins on the foreheads and says, “I'm off,” when she leaves for work. That's the kind of thing you can only do with love - she was just too scared to actually put it into words. Though she was able to express her love fully in her final moments, it’s still sad it took such an extremely situation for her to be able to say it. If it’d never happened, or if she’d simply put the door chain on, she might never have said it. She might have always struggled to say those words. But it’s thanks to the twins she learned how to love. Even the love she has for her fans, that she derided as a lie, was always true. And when she told Ryosuke-kun, “I want to love you,” I think she was already loving him even then.

In the audio commentary included on the Blu-ray & DVD bonus disc, I was struck by the mention of Ai being so nervous before she says “I love you” to Ruby and Aqua, that she takes a deep breath. What sort of direction were you given for that line?

There wasn’t any direction, actually. During the recording, my focus was entirely on expressing Ai’s breathing after being stabbed, how much blood she was losing, and the urgency of conveying her final words. It was an intense experience. It’s a rare moment as a voice actor to feel like me and the character I'm playing have our hearts beating in sync, but this was one of those times. I think I was genuinely nervous myself as well. I could feel my heart pounding and my chest clenching like when you’re about to make a confession. That feeling still hasn’t left me.

Additionally, in the last monologue of episode 11, where Aqua reflects on Ai's words after she was stabbed, we couldn't use the original recording from the first episode. The recording from the first episode captured a raw and genuine emotion, as Ai was gasping for breath. So we re-recorded it with the intention that the more it resonated warmly within Aqua, the more unforgettable those words would become for him. I wanted to make sure that Ai’s final words would leave a lasting impact, something Aqua would revisit in his mind over and over again. Personally, I approached the recording with a deep sense of love, like passing the baton and saying, “Thank you, everyone, for your hard work in the first season.” There was a lot of warmth during that session, not just towards the twins, but towards the entire cast, staff, and the "Oshi no Ko" project itself.

What were your thoughts upon reading 45510?

I got to the end and I was like “Don’t delete the blog! I want to know more!” (laughs) The entire story felt like a box that really shouldn't be opened. Everything from the meaning behind the password numbers to the fact that Ai left behind a blog wanting to reconcile made it feel like Ai really, truly wanted to love the other girls in B-Komachi even when they were jealous of her.

In the anime, we only get a brief moment of interaction between Ai and the other members - that moment during dance practice, when one of them says, "You look kinda down, Ai-chan" and Ai replies with a smile, "That’s not it. I didn’t get to eat lunch!" So I was careful that Ai’s response didn't feel sour at all. If the sigh she let out before they spoke to her had even a hint of annoyance, it would’ve been a reason the other girls took offense with her. I felt like Ai’s invincibility should’ve been the main factor for their issues with her.

It’s just a brief interaction in the anime, but ‘45510’ really fleshed out that distance between Ai and the B-Komachi members. I based my understanding of these boundaries in her relationships on ‘45510’ and ‘Viewpoint B’ and I also read ‘Oshi no Ko: Spica, the First Star’ to get a fuller picture. The more I read, the more I understood - Kana Arima’s got the right idea!

YOASOBI’s song ‘IDOL’ closes out episode one.

The music itself was impactful, but the music video that was released after the first episode aired was something else altogether. We watched the first episode together with the cast, and then, after seeing the music video, I felt overcome by Ai’s presence all over again - I was left speechless by how powerful the experience was. "Oshi no Ko" really is an immersive experience. I mean, you willingly open YouTube and relive Ai's death yourself. Even after everything was conveyed in the main story, the music video introduced new layers of emotions and concepts. Seeing how YOASOBI's song "Idol," which was about Ai, resonated with so many people really made me realize all over again just how significant Ai's impact was!

And then you yourself sang IDOL at the Strawberry Productions☆Fan Thanksgiving Festival 2023 (FanFest).

For me, "Idol" is a challenging song to sing even at karaoke. So, when they asked me to sing it at the FanFest my initial reaction was, "Oh, that might be too much!" (laughs). It’s not a song that you can easily perform live (laughs). It's a song that only an incredible artist can pull off, so when I thought about singing it live on stage, I was like, "Really? Me?" But when I saw the setlist for the live part of the FanFest, I started feeling like, "Actually, I think I should give it a shot." As a performer, I had some reservations about whether I could deliver the quality it deserved, but the "Oshi no Ko" fan in me couldn't resist. I was like, "Everyone wants to see Ai's voice actress sing 'Idol'" (laughs). After a lot of back-and-forth, I decided to go for it. I understood how Kana Arima felt when she joined the new B-Komachi. The joy of being relied upon by the team and the desire to meet the expectations of the work won out in the end.

Between “Our Sign is B”, “HEART's♡KISS” and “STAR☆T☆RAIN”, which is your favourite B-Komachi song?

That’s a tough one since they’re all A-side quality! (laughs) It was like, "Wow, B-Komachi is seriously awesome!" You can really feel the passion from the music team, like they were determined to bring the world of "Oshi no Ko" to life through these songs. It was also surprising to see how the series expanded from the manga into this whole new realm of music.

Was there anything specific you focused on while recording the project’s songs?

I tried not to change my tone just because it was a song. My focus was on making sure that when people listened, they could immediately recognize it as Ai's voice. At first, it was really hard to come up with a solid idea of what "Ai singing” sounded like. Usually, she's a pretty laid back and carefree, but she can’t exactly sing like that during a live performance. Ai’s a pro when it comes to entertaining the audience and enjoying the moment with them so I was constantly trying to find the right balance between Ai’s characteristic nonchalance and the high energy of a live idol performance. The first recording I did was for "HEART's♡KISS," and honestly, I ended up putting too much force into the opening line, "I'll send you a cheer." Since the song's theme is about sending everyone good vibes, I got too intense with my delivery. I got an ‘OK’ on that take but when I listened back to it, I felt that it wasn’t quite right, so I asked to redo just that part. If people didn’t immediately sense Ai at the very start, I worried that they wouldn't feel her presence throughout the entire song.

If you were to send a message to Ai, what would you say?

There’s so much I’d love to say to her, it’s hard to pick just one thing. Still, I think Ai was really happy in her life because she got to say "I love you" in the end. Even though her life might seem tragic to others, the feeling that stuck with me from playing her was a sense of incredible contentment. So, I’d probably just want to have a casual chat with her and watch over everyone together. Oh, but I’d definitely tell her to keep that door chain locked!

[yanderes-galore]

I’d like to see some yandere romantic concept for Sunset Shimmer from MLP please! I love her so much I need something for her! 😍

Can confirm as a fellow Sunset Shimmer fan I adore her too. Been awhile since I've seen Equestria Girls so I'm sorry if she's OOC. This concept takes place in the Human World since I don't do much of those.

Took a classic yandere take with this. Not fully proofread, expect mistakes!

Yandere! Sunset Shimmer Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Fear of abandonment implied, Jealousy, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Violence, Threats/Threats of murder, Brief blood mention, Kidnapping, Isolation, Forced relationship.

Obviously Sunset Shimmer's yandere type changes depending on if she's a villain or not.

I'll be looking at reformed Sunset Shimmer in this concept, so her after the first movie.

She is the leader of the group when Twilight isn't in the human world.

She's in charge of any magic spikes or magical problems in general.

She knows not a lot of people like her due to what she's done... but she's trying to get better!

She's trying to build her confidence and acts very kind to those around her.

She writes to Twilight often about her findings.

She's intelligent and compassionate... but can lose her composure and temper easily.

Sunset Shimmer tries her best to be a good person... she even manages to make a new friend.

You!

My idea was that Sunset Shimmer's obsession makes her relapse into her old behavior a bit.

She's better now but occasionally might find herself giving into a more selfish and manipulative side.

Her relapsing is unnoticeable to her at first... but soon she realizes it the more she's around you.

When she met you she realized you two get along well.

You often hang out at each other's homes and play games, talk, and just enjoy each other.

Soon Sunset Shimmer starts to develop feelings for you....

You have no clue about her true origins as a Unicorn but she doesn't really plan on telling you... right off.

She's still curious and stunned by her new feelings towards you.

She... she hasn't felt so warm towards anyone before... let alone like this.

She struggles on if she should let Twilight know about such a thing.

Speaking of which... Sunset Shimmer, as Twilight's student, may have a similar yandere type to the princess.

She wants to learn all about her new feelings, she notes everything down about you...

Perhaps even follows you around to an obsessive degree.

She plays it all off as just being clingy.

After all... she's been through a lot... so surely you'll forgive her, right?

Originally doesn't mind you around her group of friends... but soon she ends up jealous.

She may eventually try writing to Twilight... saying she feels overly obsessive and controlling towards you...

However... maybe midway through the letter... she stops.

Why should Twilight know?

What if Twilight sees her affection for you as a bad thing.

What if she takes you away?

As a result, Sunset Shimmer never tells Twilight.

Sun Shim's friends get concerned when they see her always ask about you.

She even glares at people around you... a fire igniting within her whenever she sees others speak to you.

Eventually Sunset Shimmer may give into her darker desires.

The demonic grasp on her heart appears again.

Soon she's threatening others around you and slowly controlling you to spend more time with her.

She tries to ignore the violent thoughts she has... but soon she may act upon those too.

Eventually she confesses to you... opening her heart to you in hopes you'll accept.

If you don't... she doesn't take it well.

In fact... her heart tells her to take you.

To tie you up... to lock you away...

To hide all the evidence of her obsession... no matter how much blood is on her hands.

She apologizes next time she comes to your home... knocking you out and catching you softly.

She doesn't tell a soul once she takes you home and sits you on a bed.

Twilight doesn't need to know... her friends don't need to know...

If anyone asks she'll get rid of them.

You two are meant to be together... she just knows it.

Her dark desires pour into her heart once again... she can't help but kiss you softly when she sees you wake up.

To your dismay... it doesn't seem like she changed at all from before... she's still a selfish demon who only cares for herself in the end.

[1427]

dirge

Boyd Crowder X OFC (Beatle)

Setting: in the WoOoOods (Justified Season 1, with Boyd’s militia)

Summary: Boyd is sick of being full of shit. When one of the recruits for his new flock seems to see him for who he really is, he decides it might not be so bad to let her.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: CHARACTER DEATH, Boyd Crowder is Boyd Crowder, mentions of white nationalism, mentions of methamphetamine, religious imagery and references, mentions of militias, cults, and Boyd comparing himself to Christ (see above). NSFW WARNINGS; poooooooorly written smut, somno, rough fucking, unprotected piv, references to oral, jerking off, mentions of religion being used in sexual roleplay. mentions of other truly questionable roleplay scenarios, free-use dynamics

A/n: I started watching Justified a few days ago and Boyd Crowder really is one of the characters of all time, isn't he? Beatle is my OC who likes speed and sometimes sells it and sometimes strips but I obviously couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if Beatle had been in one of those trailers he’d held looking for people to follow his cause. Especially since she's just absolutely fucking dazzled by charm and confidence and she'd love him in a way he'd probably never been loved before. Couldn't not write it & I broke my own heart.

Inb4 I disappear for 3 months again

18+ mdni 

✞

Boyd didn't think his daddy would hang her up there with the rest of them. 

She was special, didn't he know that? Couldn't he tell? 

Her hair’s never smelled like gunpowder before. It's more a feeling than a smell, and it stings but he's grateful that it hurts. He deserves it. 

Boyd didn't think his daddy would do any of this. But he wasn't thinking, was he? He should have seen it coming, should have known. Not ‘should have’ in the way that hindsight is 20/20 and you can make wanton wishes about the past; no Boyd should have because he does know better. He's smarter than to let something like this happen.

✞

When he got out of prison he knew he was full of shit. Same shit he'd always been full of. He figures it ain't really like lyin’ so much if everyone knows you're never showing your real face. Talking is more like a game. Trying to spit the words out around the secret biting between his teeth. Secrets? He figures he's allowed to have those. Like what his intentions might have really been when he'd started recruiting junkies to be saved. Be his flock. 

Different vocabulary, same game, same moves, same outcome. 

Boyd did think that there would be a different outcome this time. Everyone always ends up dead, but how could that happen this time? He knows that putting a gun to someone's head and mocking them into sobriety ain't exactly safe and its definitely not legal but it's what works. Who could rightly question his methodologies if he was getting such socially acceptable results? 

The point (as the point of things usually is for Boyd) is that there are enough qualifiers for him to feign confusion and innocence at any question of his motivations. Like he was so damn good at. Boyd had a reply for anything. A defense for everything he'd ever done. Everything he'd ever do. Else he wouldn't be caught doing it. 

This time was easier. This time actually felt like it could be something more. That even though he was using his knowledge of the human condition, and its drive to follow a strong and confident leader, that this time he was doing it for something good at least.

How could getting rid of meth in Harlan county be bad? Boyd asks himself that a lot these days. Whenever he starts wondering how full of shit he is again. And he tells himself it doesn't matter if he's lying about every damn thing, even to himself, if he's getting people clean and following the Lord. 

He doesn't feel that guilty, though. Not enough to really do anything different. His flock is his flock, and when he talks about God he makes sure to word it just right. So they hear it and they think of him. Boyd’s teachings are their gospels, and sometimes Boyd quotes scripture so he can call on God like he's name-dropping a celebrity. It's what works. It's what always worked.

If you’re good at saying the right thing to the right person you can get just about anything you want. If you're good at finding the perfect time to say it, you can keep it. Gettin’ stuff is no good if you can't keep it. That's what all these Dixie boys always got wrong about business. Hell, what everyone got wrong about everything - getting people to just give you what you want always feels so much better than taking it. Usually ends better to.

Before prison, for most of his life, it was skin-heads. He'd already known the slurs and the on-the-surface racial epithets from growing up but it only took a few weekends at the library and a couple eavesdropped Klan meetings to understand what these men were searching for. Only took a few well timed bible verses and an encouraging nod or two to get them to listen. The hardest thing of the whole operation was keeping them from being stupid when he wasn't around.

“Can't plan for everything.” “Sometimes shit just happens.” and “It is what it is.” Are just some bullshit excuses people tell themselves. Because Boyd knows that anything can be planned for. It's just a matter of looking. It's just a matter of knowing. He knows that you don't enter a room without knowing there's an exit and that you don't open your mouth unless you know exactly what could be said back to you. 

Boyd knows how to get what he wants.

But since he's been out of prison he doesn't know what the fuck he wants. So he does what he always does but this time it's with words like shepherd, divine calling, and manifesting righteous love. It feels nice to be leading through positive affirmations instead of bigotry. If only because Boyd really resented how objectively moronic white supremacy was - anything ‘supremacy’ was a fucking joke. And those boys in the brotherhood thinking they were God's gift to the genepool? Hard not to see it when you're lookin’, how ridiculous the whole damn thing is.

That's why it didn't feel all that bad talking down to them. Manipulating them into whatever the fuck he felt like. Boyd wonders about it when he feels this tugging in his gut sometimes when he talks to his flock. It doesn't bother him enough to stop, but just enough to wonder why he hadn’t felt it before.

Maybe it's because she's watching and she knows he's full of shit. 

That doesn't usually make any difference to Boyd and his ability to believably speak lies but every time he meets her eyes he feels like she can see his soul, the things behind what he's saying, and it makes him want to stop. Like he's embarrassed. Just a little. Just barely. It's so foreign to Boyd that if he didn't know just about every physical tell a person's body could have, he wouldn't have been able to place it. 

If Boyd had to find the words to explain it he might have said it felt like he wanted her to see him. That his body and his mind have, as most humans have, the desire to be vulnerable with another human being. That he was meeting something in her that his inner self craved. These were words he'd use. But actually feeling them was harder. His list of wants in life is small and it's been the same things for as long as he's been playing snake in the grass. She's not on it. She never was before. 

✞

She isn't anymore. 

For a few weeks, Boyd let himself have something he didn't think he was allowed. Something he'd told himself he didn't deserve. 

He wonders now if he was full of shit that whole time too. If letting her hold him and kiss him and fall in love with who he really was - if he wasn't just doing it to see if he could.

Her hair never burned his nostrils before.

It's not meant to do that. 

Kissing her forehead never tasted like blood either.  Maybe it should have. Maybe if he'd tasted blood the first time he'd kissed her none of this would have happened. 

Boyd doesn't understand how his daddy couldn't tell she was special. Not when he’d seen it the second she opened her mouth down the barrel of his own gun. Boyd knows she didn't go quiet and he knows if she could open her mouth and talk right now her throat would be sore and raw and ruined. 

He tries not think about how he couldn't hear her. He’s not sure if he wishes he had. 

✞

Beatle didn't get it at first but it didn't take her long. Faster than he'd expected. And maybe if he'd met her on a college campus he wouldn't have been so impressed with her. But what was Boyd ever gonna be doing on a college campus? No, as far as he was concerned it was like lookin’ at himself. 

Almost.

She didn't want the same things, and that didn't lead her to be the same type of person Boyd was. But it didn't stop him from seeing himself in her. All her big words and sweet banter. Even with a damn gun to her head she knew how to be cool. He thought he might be in love with her. 

She'd told him later that it was because she'd seen the way he'd looked at her and knew he wasn't going to shoot her. He told her he still would have shot her if she didn't agree to quit using. She tells him she loves him for the first time. 

It had only been a few days since that had happened, them meeting, and after she’d said it she tried to explain it away. It's the first time he sees her not being so cool. It’s the first time he sees the potential for something more.

Not because she'd slipped up and been vulnerable or given him something to use against her. No, it was the feeling in his chest when she'd professed such genuine admiration for what would generally be considered something he should have kept to himself.

The quiet part he's gotten so good at not saying out loud. The secret between his teeth. She can see it.

✞

Days go by and he's certain she can see it. The way Raylan can see some of it. She starts calling him ‘the prince' around camp and she thinks he doesn't understand why. No one else does, and he supposes that's probably why he's letting her get away with it. He's amused by it. By her. Always saying something that ends up surprising him. 

Just some gaunt addict he found in a shitty trailer in children's pajamas, but she's making observations about him in comparison to Italian philosophy. She can't keep herself from pointing out when he ‘mistakenly’ attributes some quote from a book or movie to himself instead. She uses words he doesn't know.

Those aren't the things that impress Boyd. What catches his attention is that she never uses the words like manipulate or Machiavelli or cult. If she ever does call him out on some misattributed quote she won't call him a liar, and she won't do it in earshot of anyone else. And when she uses her big girl words she looks at him like she's teasing him instead of trying to impress him. She knows when he's wrong about the obscure ass Bible stories too and he has no idea how she knows this shit. 

Going out of her way to call him on being full of shit - without ever actually saying it at all.

She's good. She keeps being better at it than he'd thought someone could be. Someone like her. Someone who wasn't really anyone.

Maybe that's why Boyd felt like he could let her in on it. Just a little bit. Because she could see it and he knew she could and she never called him a liar or a bastard or a psycho or anything like that. She didn't even try to leave. If anything, she seemed charmed by it. 

He didn't think too much about how it might feel to let someone in like that. What it could be like to show your real face and still be wanted. 

✞

Their first kiss doesn't taste anything like blood. 

It tasted like tobacco and dirt and her.

She'd been trying to figure a way to sleep closer to him during the nights. Boyd figures this out after she finally ‘confesses’ that she hasn't been sleeping well,  she's ‘scared of the dark’.

He asks her how long it took her to come up with that bullshit.

She says two days.

He asks why she didn't come up with something better and can't argue when she says there really wasn't anything that didn't sound obvious.

It takes about an hour for her to be pressed up against him. They'd started with their sleeping bags a few feet away from each other, but as they talk the distance gets smaller. Boyd isn't sure if it's her or him that's moving in. Isn't he supposed to pay attention to stuff like that? Shouldn't he be at least a little aware of what she says and what she doesn't say and how she's moving and speaking and staring? 

He's in the middle of a story about one of the banks, talking at her about some really ‘cool’ shit he'd said and never gotten to tell anyone (he never thought he'd wanted to) - and without a word she unzips her sleeping bag, unzips his sleeping bag, and rearranges. Making enough room for her to fit right up against him.

And she does.

Boyd keeps talking the whole time. Finishing his story. She listens, and replies, and neither one of them comment on what she's doing. Neither one of them say anything when she's nestled up against him.

He thinks it through… what to do in this situation. What outcome did he want? His dick is hard but it's not aching. He could sleep. He figures making her wait won't hurt his chances if he decides he wants them. 

So he tells her politely goodnight and he's surprised when she doesn't protest. 

Beatle rolls over and he pulls her close. No harm in being close. Really there was no harm in fucking her either, but it didn't feel like the right moment. Everything has its right moment.

He keeps thinking about fucking her and once again he isn't sure who started moving first but he's pulling her over his cock like her body was his to move how he wanted. It was definitely her who started it, he reasons, arching her back into him and wiggling around - but he could've dealt with it. Could've told her to stop, told her no, told her anything that he knew would shut her down.  But just as he was about to say something she turned her head to look back at him. 

She didn't twist her neck and meet his gaze romantically - pressing her hips delicately into his. No, she folded her body at her hips, completely arching herself against him, looking back and up at him like he was already fucking inside of her.

Boyd knows that when he grabs her hips hard enough to bruise her that she likes it that way. Even if she didn't say all the obvious shit that made him know. 

He's not gonna fuck her. Not tonight. But he uses her body to cum and he doesn't feel bad because he's never felt bad about something human like that. And anyway, she liked it. He knows because he can smell how wet her cunt is. He knows because she was a shaking mess, moaning at just the feeling of dull pressure. He knows because she begged him to cum. 

She begged him to cum instead of begging him to fuck her and Boyd thinks he might be in love again.

She turns around and kisses him and her face has dirt on it from where he'd pressed her head into the ground but he likes the way it tastes on her. 

She kisses like an apology. A real one. One that comes from your whole fucking soul because you never felt anything more. Trying to connect. Fully. Deeply. 

Tuggin’ on heart strings is a saying he's always heard and it always made sense until now when he actually feels it for the first time. Boyd, who's so keen on behavior and mannerisms and what was gonna happen next, feels everything she has.

He's been here before with women. Some of them were different but if he was honest most of them were the same. A sigh here, a disgusted look there. Knowing how a woman feels about you might be the easiest observation a man could make.

So Boyd was expecting what he'd gotten from her when he was grinding into her. All shaking and whimpering and he'd probably either have to take the lead or stop it - either was okay by him depending on what he felt like.

But she's someone else. Again. With one leg hooked around him and her hands around the back of his neck and in his hair - she takes his mouth with hers like she's evangelizing. Pushing everything she has into him and he can feel it. More than a physical something. More than her fingers pressing into the pulse at his neck. More than his cock getting hard again and this time it settles right between them.

He finally breaks the kiss only to ask her if she knows he can feel her clit every time it quivers against him. He only asks because he wants to feel it again.

Boyd’s good at talking. Beatle loves it. 

He asks her so many filthy things. Things he'd never got away with asking someone else. Boyd knows there's not much you can't get away with saying with a whisper and a southern accent, but this… this was new even for him.

He wasn't sure what came over him. Why he needed her to know that he's been pretty sure he can tell when she's thinking about giving him head. About the glazed over look in her eye and how her mouth hangs open a little wider than she probably thinks it does when she's staring.

Or why he has to tell her that his cock was hard the whole time he had his gun on her the first night they met.

And he's not going to fuck her but he sucks on her tits like they've been eucharized. He can't stop talking because he can't get enough of every little fucking reaction.

Boyd figures out what it is when he's in the middle of telling her about how he knows her pussy is pretty and pink and the same color as her lips and how, he knows it's bad, but sometimes when she's talking to him all he can think about is what his cock would look like pressed up against her teeth -  Beatle's body seizes on him a little bit different than it had been seizing before; and it all just clicks.

Getting a reaction from her was like breathing. Nothing in his life had ever come so easy. Or so fun. 

She was letting him play with her. 

All his silly little mind games everyone else hated so much. She liked it. Not in the way he’d meant for her to like it. 

She liked him. Actually. 

He's really not sure why he told her about cumming on her pajama pants before he threw them out. He was sure he'd take that one to the grave. But he tells her about it while jerking  off onto her stomach because he wasn't going to fuck her but he needed to cum again. 

And she eats the mess from her fingers from her belly and Boyd is certain he's allowed to be in love. 

✞

Boyd had reasoned himself through a lot of things. Justifying almost anything. This? This he was having a hard time with. All he had going for him is that she'd liked it.

That she asked for it again afterwards.

Because when Boyd wakes up and the sun is peaking through the trees he can finally really see what her tits look like. Half falling out of her top. And when he reaches down to touch her there, her lips part. He thinks about how her pussy is the same color as her mouth and he thinks about how he told her that and how she reacted and he can't stop his hands even if he wanted to.

That's what he tells himself. He's reading her blind like a set of runes, it's not his fault her body is calling him this way. And she's reacting. So how could he stop? He can't. 

He's not sure if she's sleeping or pretending to sleep and he'd be lying if he said he thought that hard about it. Hard enough to care. His fingers dip between her legs and even through her underwear he can feel it. Sticky and warm and hers. 

Boyds hands seem to know what to do the same way his mouth does. Working the fabric of her panties down just slowly enough to not move her. He didn't want to fuck her he just wanted to feel it. 

She spreads her legs for him a little, laying on her belly; another miracle. Another sign he shouldn't stop himself. The Lord was working through him. 

This time he knows he's full of shit but he's rubbing his cock along her soaked lips and he can feel her clit tremble again and he doesn't feel bad when he pushes into her.

Her eyes jolt open like he'd been waiting for and the look on her face is an expression he doesn't think he's ever seen before. Something like fear and trust. Something someone like Boyd could get addicted to. 

He fucks her into the ground. He wants to look at her face again so he pulls her head back by her chin. She meets his gaze like she'd been waiting for it. This. To look at him like this while he fucked her.

She bows her head and takes his fingers into her mouth. She tries to move her head and Boyd knows exactly what the fuck she wants so he gives it to her. Fishhooking his fingers into her cheek while he backs up and off her a little. Sitting her up on her knees before pushing her shoulders back down again. 

Boyd knows how to get what he wants. He wants to go watch himself disappear inside of her. 

He'd almost forgotten where they'd started this, but when he remembers he has to stop himself from finishing then…. Just barely pushing into her again and it reminds him of that first time. 5 minutes ago when she was asleep.

Boyd can't stop thinking about how she'd woken up wanting him. This desperate. This wet.

That he could make her want it even when she couldn't know anything.

She opens her fucking mouth one fucking time and it's to tell him to fuck her pussy like he fucking owns it. And it was kind of corny and it didn't quite hit as well as he thought something she could say during sex would and he's not mad or anything but she adds “because you do.” and Boyd buckles. 

Falling on top of her body like her words hit him he holds her still as he ruts up into her. It's desperate and vulnerable and yet still completely overpowering. He tells her to say it again and she says the whole thing. He tells her no just the last part and she

Starts professing just how much he fucking owns her pussy. How it's never been for anybody else, from the second she saw him she wanted him. She felt him there, she always wanted to feel him there. Deep in her fucking cunt because it fucking belonged to him. 

He asks her whenever he wants it?

She repeats him in breathless moans as he slows his pace

He asks her even if she's sleeping.

She tells him that she’s never been more turned on in her whole life.

He asks her why

Because he took it without asking.

Because he knew it was his.

Boyd cums so fucking hard he's vaguely aware that he's hurting her. Pressing her into the ground and she can't breathe but he knows she'll be okay in a second and he knows she doesn't care. He knows she prefers it this way. Even if she hadn't said it.

✞

For the next two weeks Boyd fucks her in just about every way he can think to fuck her. All the things he's ever wanted to try. Like waking her up by stretching her out. He can't believe he's never been able to wake someone up like that before.

He can't believe how much he likes it.

Responding to her body and giving it what it wants when she can't even speak. He's sure it's is favorite thing that they do.

He does things with her that he’d never actually considered before, too.

He plays pretend with her. Not in front of the others but they'll go out to the creek and he'll baptize her and they fuck in the water or on the edge or against a tree. 

Or Beatle gets down on her knees like she's really praying and pretends to be confused when his cock head pokes at her mouth asking what he's doing and he gets to play along and say it's what the good Lord itends for her.

One time he laid her down and they pretended that as her pastor it was his holy duty to impregnate her with Christ.

Boyd didn't know he would get off on this shit. He's certain he wouldn't be if it wasn't with her. Who's mouth was so believable and reactions so pure - he doesn't have to wonder anything. 

She likes it or she doesn't and she always fucking likes it. 

✞

The sky is hazy and it looks like it might rain. Beatle asks him if he has any family and Boyd doesn't really know what to say. He doesn't want to lie but he doesn't want to talk about it.

He tells her no.

She asks if he's lying because he doesn't want them to meet her.

Boyd’s heart pangs again like it did when she'd kissed him that first time. All desperate and real and alive. He shakes his head and tells her no. She was too good for them.

He can tell she doesn't believe him. But saying nothing is better than saying more. And he knows she'll let him get away with not answering this one.

He tells her it doesn't matter anyway because he's pretty sure he loves her. And it's the first time he says it but it's not the first time he's felt it. Beatle believes him. 

Boyd is pretty sure she's never believed those words in her whole life before now. 

His heart pangs again.

✞

Bo Crowder was a scary sonofabitch. That's what Beatle said under her breath as he was walking up to their camp. Boyd’s glad she said it quiet because she didn't know how right she was.

She didn't know that was his daddy.

She knew about the meth shipment he was yelling about. Something he normally wouldn't have told her, even though it wasn't a secret necessarily. Something about wanting to protect a woman from the dangers of this world. 

But Boyd needed Beatle. He trusted her. She was part of this with him. He didn't want her the way he wanted all of the rest and he wanted all of the rest to know it too. Something about making her feel like she was someone. 

He knew he was saying and doing things at just the right times to make her feel special. But it's not like he didn't mean them. She treated each one like a fucking gift. Each public display, every private whisper. Every touch of their fingers and especially every time he buried himself inside her.

✞

It occurs to him on his walk through exile, while his people were no doubt being strung up and taken away by lawmen, that he doesn't think he can live without her. Well, at least that he doesn't want to. He reasons he shouldn't have to. 

She didn't break any laws anyway and Raylan will probably hand her over personally when her record comes back clean. He'd asked her and she said she had no charges she'd known of. She'd know. 

So, be patient. Wait it out. He runs through it again, in his head, all the stuff his daddy said. That they were gonna have them dig up the guns then tie em to a tree and call the feds.

He said a lot of other stuff too. About not being a son not being a leader not being nothing. Boyd was always sure he was nothing so none of that shit felt like anything. The first few blows his daddy makes his cousin give him don't feel like much of anything either.

Seeing Beatle’s face is what does it. He's sure he's rocked a few more times but he doesn't remember anything after seeing her look at him like that. 

✞

Boyd tries not to remember Beatle for the way she looked at him then. He tries really hard to remember the few seconds he'd gotten to touch her hand before his daddy shot that gun one last time at him to get out of there. 

He wishes he remembered it better but it's so fuzzy and barely there. He wishes his cousin would have just fucking beat him to death. He wishes that one prick ass degenerate addict piece of shit good for nothing follower who snitched out where the guns were would come back to life so he could rip apart every bit of him.

Because she'd probably still be alive. Boyd’s sure of it. If he'd died instead she'd be alive and the world wouldn't fucking feel like this. 

✞

For a while he has delusions that it’s the Real Deal out and out End O’ Times. That with her went all the light and all the good because he just couldn't seem to reason why.

Couldn't his daddy see she was special?

Couldn't he see that she was divinely made for him? 

That their love could have changed the world. 

It could have changed him.

Boyd can't reason with his daddy because he's dead too.

✞

After even longer Boyd convinces himself he was full of shit the whole time. That Beatle was just some girl he stuffed his cock into to feel good about himself while he was reintegrating back into society. 

Just some junkie, and if she was still alive she'd be back to using again. They wouldn’t have been anything because Beatle wasn't anyone.

She thought she was special, but don't they all? 

Boyd doesn't think about it much anymore. When he does he only lets himself think one thing.

She couldn't have been real. Not the way he thought she was. He must have been wrong about her and he would have figured it out eventually. 

He can't let himself think about her the way she really was.

The memories of her then are remembered by no one. Not a soul on this earth. Not even the ground they fucked on or the pond he made her piss in so he could watch. Not even in the stump that she'd carved their initials into because Boyd went back and he cut it all apart so sure that wasn't real either. 

He keeps being so sure it wasn't real.

He convinces himself that some initials carved in a tree is just something childish and stupid and that's why he destroyed it. He convinces himself that it wouldn't have broken her heart.

He’ll convince himself of just about anything to keep from thinking about what it felt like to be loved. Because that's what it was, right? Love? 

So he doesn't think about her. Or then. Or what happened and what didn't. 

✞

It's the gunpowder. Every time it starts to sting up his sinuses he can feel her hair soft against his lips. And every time he closes his eyes and he remembers her. What it felt like to realize she was up there with the rest of them.

Maybe someday Boyd will let himself remember what it felt like to love her. He worries that by the time he’ll be ready he won't remember what she looked like anymore.

What she felt like.

He already forgets most of the stuff they'd talked about. He just knows she was special. He knows no one else would get it anyway. Why he wanted to let himself be stuck there forever. In those words. Dying. How three weeks could feel so much bigger.

Boyd keeps going out there despite how much he convinces himself he's not thinking about her. Everything time he smells the gunpowder. 

He keeps finding reasons to use his gun. 

Because even though in that memory she's dead it's the realest one he's got. 

He doesn't think about her dead.

If he absolutely has to, laying down in the dirt where the camp used to be, he thinks about the way she looked when he'd told her he was pretty sure he loved her.

Sometimes he thinks about her mouth or her body or the way she always seemed to know what to do with them - but mostly he just thinks about the way she looked at him. Praying to be a better man for the next time around this life because she deserved more than God would allow him to give. The choices he had made previous to loving her had tainted his soul. Turned it rotten and poisoned her before he'd barely even gotten the chance. She'd paid for his sins. So he prays next time he meets her without any. 

Boyd wishes just one time he would lay down out here and not get up. 

He leaves the woods, convincing himself he was full of shit with her the same way he was full of shit with everyone, the memories of her die again, and he forgets about her until his subconscious finds some reason for him to fire a gun.

Any reason.

Boyd remembers enough about her to know she'd have liked that.

✞

A/n; it wasn't really proofread? (Well it was but I'm not very good at it) ALSO idk about this writing style either, i know it's kind of different? And in my opinion probably more juvenile but I had fun writing it this way. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(I'll make a different post about where I'm at with my wips~)

[clonerightsagenda]

How's Uglies holding up to modern rereading for you? I loved it as a kid, but nowadays I see it as an early entry in the YA dystopia boom that other books took formula notes from and refined down the line, making it feel a fair bit clumsier by comparison. Very fond memories, though, and I appreciate seeing the toxic yuri on my dash now that I'm old enough to appreciate it, lol.

It's holding up pretty well for me! I'll be honest - while I read The Hunger Games and Unwind, I never read Divergent or The Maze Runner, so I'm not entirely versed in the YA dystopia boom. I'm aware of the cultural construction of it though - world's specialest teen girl is the only one who can topple the government and lead a revolution. I'm not even sure how many of the actual series align with that stereotype (imo The Hunger Games is deliberately interrogating it) but anyway, some thoughts re: Uglies' position vis a vis dystopia stereotypes and just in general:

The love triangle is annoying, no arguments there, but it also ends more messily than I think the stereotype typically conveys. She 'chooses' one of them and then he dies as a direct result of her behavior, and she's not with-with the other at the end of the main series (and in the sequel series they've gone their separate ways).

Also, Tally is frequently a pretty unlikable person, which is a bold choice! She is not motivated by any pure intentions at the beginning - she's betraying a friend for her own gain - and throughout the series we see her wrecking that friendship over and over because, as Shay accuses her, she thinks she's the center of the universe. Shay hits every big milestone before Tally - Smoky, Pretty, Special - and it almost feels like prodding the limits of a close third POV, reminding us that there's isn't one single world's specialist teen girl. In the stereotypical version, Shay would be the scrappy rebel hero. Tally always needs pushes, and she's always screwing it up.

While it's obviously written for younger readers, the writing is effective. Like I said, Scott challenges himself to write the same POV three times with different levels of brain damage and pulls it off. He integrates made up slang in a way that doesn't feel too distracting (I really enjoy the way the princess sections in Pretties are written). In classic Scott fashion he brings back key ideas and phrases to hit you hard when it counts (informed consent, a special circumstance), and of course the whole final word of each book forming a circle is a fun little bonus. I'm glad this was written before the modern codifying of YA when it would be in first person.

The moral is obvious yeah but it's MG/YA and also props to Scott for predicting influencers in Extras. You also get the protagonist semi-aligning themselves with the antagonists' ideology at the end which is interesting, even if it again fits into a Western environmentalist assumption that humans can't live in peace with nature.

And finally, despite not being sporty at all, I still want a hoverboard.

[ellebakers]

☆ I know who you pretend I am | Part two

Criston Cole x reader

Part one

Summary : If Criston wants to play with you then you will play.

Warning(s) : Language, angst, smut as always :)

Tag list : @enchantedbones @whitejuliana1204

Stupid.

This is how you felt…

Criston had only played with you for few months, all just to get Rhaenyra back. He managed to get what he wanted, with an extra. You. he got you, naked, sweating and screaming his name.

How could you be so blind and stupid ? You had let your body speak and here is the result, you were heartbroken. You watched as the princess laughed at something he had just whispered to her, and as they rubbed the knife in the wound, your sister came over and sat down beside you.

"Can you tell me what's bothering you."

You didn't take your eyes off the pair as you exhaled sharply.

"What makes you think I'm bothered by something ?"

Alicent stroked your hair affectionately, drawing your gaze to her. "You haven't touched your plate since you arrived, and I noticed that you hadn't taken your eyes off the princess and Ser Criston."

You stiffened when she mentioned them. "I'm not really in the mood to party my dear sister."

Alicent crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair. "You know there's nothing between them, right ?"

You pretended not to understand when she glared at you. "Don't make the mistake of taking me for a simpleton y/n."

You sighed and turned to her. "I appreciate you worrying about me, but I'm fine. Now excuse me but I'm going to retire to my quarters, I'm tired."

Your sister opened her mouth to protest but you were already gone. What you didn't know is that Criston hadn't taken his eyes off you when you were leaving. He wondered why you hadn't spoken to him, why you hadn't played his little game.

After all, the last time you played this, he ended up with his cock buried inside you, and he was ready to do anything to start over.

.

Returning to your room you asked the guards not to allow any visitors, especially not Criston Cole.

The night was eventful, when you closed your eyes images of the princess and Criston came to your mind, which forced you to wake up.

As for the knight, the night was hectic too, he couldn't close his eyes, after you left the meal, he tried to visit you but the guards in front of your door informed him of your order, and to say he was disappointed would be an understatement.

The next day you did not leave your room, ordering that your meal be brought back to your room. It was out of the question for you to see a certain person.

It was late in the day when your sister came into your room, clearly upset. "Out."

You frowned, putting down the book you were reading quietly before she disturbed your calm.

"What ?"

"You heard me very well, I want you out of your room. I asked to get the horses ready, you and I are going for a ride , we have to talk."

"But-"

She pointed a dangerous index finger in your direction. "Your queen asked you something, you have to obey. Join me in the courtyard in five minutes."

She walked away, leaving you speechless. You had nothing against taking a walk with your older sister, what bothered you was that her protector would be there. Criston Cole.

But you knew better than to annoy Alicent, so you went to join her reluctantly.

.

One hour, it had been an hour since the ride had started and you hadn't spoken.

Alicent glanced behind her to make sure her protector wasn't hearing, then turned to you.

"For heaven's sake he can't hear us, could you please tell me what's going on between you two ?"

You groaned closing your eyes, this conversation was already giving you a headache. "Alicent, there is nothing between us."

She let out a cold laugh. "Obviously ! Even a blind man would see that there is something between you. For months you have been flirting, but since yesterday something has changed between you and I would like you to tell me about it."

You sighed and glanced at Criston. The poor man looked sad until he met your gaze and stiffened on his horse.

You looked at your impatient sister and threw your hands in surrender. "Fine. We have..."

Alicent frowned, confused. "Well finish your sentence."

"You know, we have.." You waved your hands to try to make her understand.

"Y/n, use words !"

"We slept together."

The redhead raised her eyebrows and a mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Finally ! Better late than never."

You gasped. "Alicent !"

Your reaction made your sister laugh. "Excuse me. It's just that you've been circling around each other for months, I'm surprised you haven't done it before."

You shook your head smiling, then the memory of Criston with the princess came back to you. "But he only used me to get Rhaenyra back."

Your sister laughed, offending you. "Thank you."

Once her giggle passed, she looked at you gently. "Y/n, you're smart, how can you believe such a thing. This man is in love with you."

"He's not in love with me. He just used me for his pleasure."

Alicent's gaze became sad. "Y/n, believe me, I know when a man uses a woman just for his pleasure and Criston doesn't. After you left last night, he followed you, and when your guardians refused him the acces I thought he was going crazy. He's been asking to see you all day. Do you know why I came to look for you ?"

You shook your head.

"I spoke with Rhaenyra and she told me that Ser Criston approached her yesterday to apologize, and to tell her that he had finally found love. With you."

You couldn't believe your ears. He loved you, and you had made unfounded accusations, the poor man had to suffer even more than you.

For his part, Criston was dying to know what you could be talking about with your sister, but your protector caught his attention. "She must be good."

Cole came back to earth and turned to Wilson.

"What are you talking about ?"

Your new protector was everything Criston hated, young and arrogant.

"Y/n, I said I heard her moan two nights ago, I wish I was the person she was with, she must be good."

Criston saw red. He placed his horse in front of Wilson's in order to block it. "What are you doing ?"

"How dare you talk about her like that. How dare you call her by her first name. I won't accept such disrespect."

Wilson laughed. "Am I dreaming ? You have feelings for her ! Was it you with her that night ? So she was good, right."

Criston took out his sword and placed it at Wilson's throat. The riot caught the attention of the two young women, causing them to stop.

"Is everything okay Ser Criston ?" Alicent Shouted.

"Yes my queen, go on your way, we are coming."

Once the horses were back on the road, the knight spoke in a menacing voice.

"If you talk about her like this again, or look at her in a way I don't like, I'll kill you. Am I clear ?"

Wilson nodded, Criston set off again and accelerated to join the two women. An hour later, you stop in a small clearing to take a break. As you sat down on the grass, Alicent faked a yawn.

"I'm exhausted. Ser Wilson, escort me back to the castle please."

All eyes fell on her, all surprised, you asked. "Alicent are you sure that-"

"I trust Ser Criston to protect you, and I know how much you love sunsets, so please stay here until you want to come back."

You felt Criston's gaze on you, you looked at him and smiled at him for the first time since yesterday. The man had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling like a child does at this interaction.

"Very well my sister, on your way. Ser Wilson, I trust you to take care of my sister."

Wilson nodded and the two set off again and after a few minutes you could hardly see them on the horizon.

Criston remained standing and danced gently from one foot to the other. "You can sit Ser Criston."

The man was not waiting and he settled down next to you. You remain silent for a moment, until the guilt settles in you.

"I'm sorry."

You looked up at Criston who was already looking at you. "I'm sorry for acting like this last night and today."

"Have I been bad ?" He asked you.

You frown "What ?"

"If you ignored me it's because I didn't satisfy you when we slept together, isn’t it ?"

It took you a few moments to understand what he had just said, but when his words took on meaning you grabbed his face in your hands.

"God no ! You were perfect. I ignored you because I was jealous."

A smile appeared on Criston's face as he gazed longingly at your lips. "Jealous ? Of whom ?"

You let go of his face and Criston thought he was dying. You groaned and looked away at the sunset. "Rhaenyra. I thought you used me just to get her."

It was his turn to grab your face. "I only want you."

He didn't wait and devoured your lips. The kiss was passionate and romantic, not like the first time, this time it was more intense. You knocked his armor. "Take that off." You whispered against his lips. He smiled and kissed you before pushing himself aside slightly and removing his armor. Once rid of all this scrap he took your face and kissed you again, this see he guided you and lay down on you. Your legs spread instinctively and placed themselves on each side of his hips, making your dress go up. He took the opportunity to move his hand up along your thigh. You moan softly as he kisses your neck.

"I can't stop thinking about you." He confessed as he kissed you on the way down.

He was kissing your body through the dress but it was enough to make you shiver.

"Your voice, your body."

He came between your thighs and placed a kiss on each thigh. Still looking at you lovingly he took off your underwear. "You haunt my thoughts every moment Y/n."

His words made you wet more and more and you needed him. "Please touch me." You begged him.

He didn't torture you any longer and he pressed his mouth against your pussy and he sucked it. You arched your back letting out a gasp.

His lips were infernal, torturing you and giving you pleasure at the same time, and every time you thought you had reached your maximum pleasure he alternated his movements just to prove you wrong.

As you felt the orgasm coming you stopped him. He looked at you in confusion, but when you tackled him to the ground and straddled him a smile gave way. You unzipped his pants and jerked him off to make him even harder even though he was already rock hard.

He grabbed your hips and moaned as you slowed your movements so he felt each movement more intensely.

"Y/n, I need to be inside you."

You leaned over and kissed him. "I don't want you to retire."

As you reinstalled yourself on him, taking a hold of his chest, he looked at you with lust. "You want me to cum inside you ?"

You nodded and impaled yourself on his hard member.

He groaned as you arched your back moaning louder. "Fuck, feels good."

He thought he came just seeing you desperate for his cock. You'll quicken your movements and moan louder and louder as he growls beastly. Criston slipped his hand between your thighs and played with your clit to make you cum.

You felt the orgasm coming as he moved to hit the spot that would make you see stars.

He rose slightly to undo the back of your dress in order to make it fall and have access to your breasts. He grabs one of your breasts and puts it in his mouth to suck on it, the sensation turning you on even more.

You stopped moving as your needs got dirtier. You didn't want him to make love to you anymore, you wanted him to fuck you, violently as you had seen him do to a whore a few months ago.

He looked at you questioningly as you undid your hair. "I don't want you to be soft."

Out of breath he frowned. "What ?"

"I want you to fuck me like you would fuck a whore."

"But-"

"I am all yours and I want you to do whatever you want with me. I want you to take me, like an animal."

Something in him changed, he lifted you up and slammed your belly against the ground, he lifted your dress on your hips and grabbed your hair in his fist. Without warning, he brutally penetrated you, making you scream with pleasure, then without even giving you time to adapt, he moved inside you harder and harder.

"You like it when I fuck you like a whore."

You couldn't speak, the only things that could come out of your mouth were moans.

"You're mine, I'm going to fuck you like that whenever I feel like it, you understood me."

"Yes." You managed to say between two moans.

He took you so that your ass is high and your face is flat on the ground.

Then he turned you around and blocked your hands on the ground with his, and his thrusts became more and more violent, he let go of one of your hands to lift your thigh and put it above his shoulder, this new position hit your point just right and as he played with your nipples you cum on his cock screaming, He watched his cock glisten with your juices and the image made him cum inside you.

He pulled back once certain that you had taken all of his seed and he rested his head on your chest to catch his breath.

That's how you fell asleep, serene and happy.

[thewormformerlyknownasletojrjr]

The thing is they’re all foils of each other, you’re supposed to see each of them in everyone, Katniss and Peeta and Gale (though nobody really cares about him, sorry dude) in Sejanus and Lucy Gray and Coryo. There’s Katniss in Lucy Gray’s singing and the mockingjays, in the curtsy, in their similar looks; in Sejanus’s ‘act first think later’ reaction, in the way they honor the dead and how they want to protect the innocent; in Coryo’s distrust of people’s motivations, the way he second guesses everything, in their survival being the first thing in their mind in dangerous situations, in their food insecurity, there’s a reason that Katniss says the two of them have always understood each other. There’s Sejanus in Gale’s righteous fury, the fire he has, the fierce morality, there’s Lucy Gray in his loyalty and honesty, there’s Coryo in the way he gets taken under the wing of a powerful and prominent adult (Dr Gaul for Coryo, Coin and Beetee for Gale) as a teenager, manipulated and offered power and used to create atrocities in the name of a greater good. You see Peeta and Lucy Gray paralleled as performers in a hunt, using their charm rather than physical ability; Sejanus shown in Peeta’s compassion for others and in the symbol of bread, given to save Katniss for starvation, sprinkled over the bodies of the dead tributes; you see Coryo in Peeta’s determination to save his girl, to get her out of the games, the way he manipulates a crowd for his own gain, in their blonde hair.

And the thing is it’s absolutely brilliant because it only furthers the notion that none of them are set in stone.

Peeta is unfailingly good, even though his survival is predominantly thanks to those manipulation tactics. He uses them to sway the opinions of those in power without them noticing it, he even makes THE CAPITOL hate the games prior to the Quarter Quell. In the beginning of Mockingjay he uses it to sway Capitol favor towards Katniss in case the rebellion fails, at this point he is not focused on what the ‘right thing’ to do is, he’s looking to keep her alive at any cost. Katniss frequently describes Peeta as ‘playing the game’ even when they arguably aren’t in the Games, he knows what he’s doing, yet we never doubt in his goodness. The ability to manipulate people like that is pretty much never seen as a positive trait in any form of media, but we never doubt him, not when we’ve witnessed his compassion, his empathy.

Gale and Sejanus are both fiercely for the rebel cause from the beginning, even when they have no chance, the idealist, tho one who doesn’t care whether they get hurt to do the right thing, the paragon of morality, the ideal hero type. And yet still, by the end of the series, we cannot describe Gale as good anymore, even if what he did was for the right reasons. The power of taking the typical type of main character and showing how their ideals can be used against them, how they can get too caught up in the cause and fail to see the consequences piling up is fantastic, because there’s a certain point before Snow becomes an absolutely irredeemable monster where the two have a lot of similarities in their arcs, even though personality wise they couldn’t be more different. Snow is a fantastic villain because, in the end that cognitive dissonance overpowers the part of him that has misgivings, he is entirely convinced he is doing the right thing no matter the cost, a path we see Gale head down in Mockingjay. We even start to see Gale considering the Capitol citizens, including children and other innocents who played no part as ‘other’ and inherently monstrous. Coin and others in 13 wanting to do a Capitol Hunger Games illustrates that point as well, the escalation of it, the end result, when a revolution ceases to be a revolution and simply becomes a change in oppressors, but Gale is integral to that point because he is the early stages of it. Coryo is in the early stages of it for a large portion of his book. Obviously the difference is that Snow has 65 years to become very comfortable with this in his fascism and increasingly monstrous tendencies, but it’s the same beginning stage, and it’s incredible how Collins shows that a revolutionary type can quickly become something bad if they aren’t careful.

For Katniss as the reluctant hero type to never really willingly step up to the role, only be strong armed into it, is brilliantly done. Most ‘chosen one’ types don’t want to be, but eventually they do take it up with some willingness, but the Hunger Games is above all about using children in immoral ways whether for ‘good’ reasons or bad. Katniss only chooses to be their hero in the face of direct threat to herself or her loved ones, but that doesn’t undermine her actions. Even though she is supposed to be their tool, she exercises her free will time and time again, she makes calls that she know place her and her loved ones in political danger with 13, she makes herself their symbol on her terms. For someone who’s first thought is how to keep herself and the people she cares about alive, this defiance means a lot, particularly because she doesn’t trust people, she genuinely isn’t sure if there is going to be someone in her corner standing up for her, protecting her from the consequences of her actions, and most of the time when there is someone she’s surprised. She fully expects the worst case scenario, the worst in others, but unlike Snow she doesn’t hesitate to offer the best of herself in spite of having everything to lose and nothing to gain. Even though she fully expects everyone to have an ulterior motive, everyone to be lying, she cannot help but be anything but genuine, anything but true to herself. She doesn’t necessarily believe in any inherent goodness in others, oftentimes the opposite, but she still offers kindness rather than violence and that is all the more powerful.

In the frame of the Hobbes/Locke duality that TBOSAS really leans into, Peeta believes in an essential goodness in people, Gale sees it as us versus them, with his side as naturally ‘good’ and the other side as inherently bad, but Katniss by default thinks of people as self serving, something she still struggles with in the epilogue, having to remind herself of evidence to the contrary, she is consistently fighting that idea, disproving it with every action, at every turn, which is much more powerful than her just seeing the world in a positive light.

The thing is Suzanne Collins has them all start out as kids, each with a personality type, Katniss most like Coryo, Gale most like Sejanus, and a melange of other characteristics and traits—Peeta and Coryo most similar in their way of dealing with people, for instance—and through the choices they make she shows that they’re not set in stone. That it’s not some inherent goodness or badness in them from birth, it’s not just the way they behave around their peers. Every choice they make, every situation out of their control sets each of them on a path. Time and time again Coryo is only protected or assisted by the corrupt adults around him, he’s shown that only a very specific type of person will protect him, and they will always have something in it for them, and they will not tolerate him being anything less than like them, and in the end he chooses to have security in his survival, to have control, over everything else, and he lets that warp him into an atrocious human being. He takes the easy way in life, in contrast to Katniss and her uphill battle for the goodness in human nature.

Collins didn’t even try to be subtle about it, it’s very deliberate in the book in the way that he narrates as Coriolanus through the entire thing, but narrates the final chapter as Snow. It’s as clear as a marker flag, the way she says, ‘this is him crossing the line of no return’. Your sympathy for him in the book doesn’t come from him being sexy or charismatic, because you’re in his head and he’s an absolute disaster honestly. His internal monologue is basically just panicked screaming. The urge to root for him comes from the fact that Collins introduces him to us as a scared teenager, a kid. He’s not necessarily a great person, but it’s not yet in a ‘set to become a fascist dictator way’ it’s just in the way that a great deal of seventeen year olds are. There were so many times in reading the book that I laughed a loud because he was SUCH a teenager in his reaction to things. There isn’t any point to having a book with a character who was poised to be evil from the start, the whole point is watching what he becomes, it’s ‘be careful how you treat the children of the world now, they grow up to run the world, and who they are is shaped by who is kind to them and who isn’t’. Casca Highbottom didn’t see Coriolanus Snow for who he was from the start, he saw an adult who had wronged people in a child and mistreated the child according to his beliefs, and in doing so opened the doors for that child to become exactly what he feared and worse.

The whole point is that they’re kids, the whole point of all four books, they were all just children to begin with, some more similar than others but they all ended up in completely different places and who they ended up with wasn’t the same as the people they had been most alike when they were young. The point is that you can’t look at a child and decide they are more or less likely to be the world’s next great monster just because of their personality traits or how they see the world or who they’re friends with. Children are blank slates for adults to write on, and then they have to take all that writing and make a book of who they are out of it someday, and they might be the ones to make that book in the end, but it matters what you write. It matters when you give them kindness, or when you hurt them, it matters when you leave them to fend for themselves too young, it matters when you give them everything they could ever want and teach them that it’s not precious to have things and that they should always get them and that others shouldn’t and that it’s nothing less than what they deserve, it matters whether you starve them, or you bomb them, because whatever they make of themselves they make with the words that you write on that slate, and even though they might be able to turn it into anything if they want to, it’s far easier to write a horror story with violence than it is to write a gentle poem.

So they are all meant to mirror each other, every one of them, to show different roads taken with circumstances similar and different.

To show you two blonde boys who could part seas with the way their words affect people, and ask you to look at them when they are five years old, or ten, or fifteen, nameless, without context, just pretty boys with prettier words in their mouths, and ask you: which one will be the monster?

[mittysins]

Newt at Home

Includes: Trans mpreg, graphic labor and orgasmic birth

I'm so glad I was able to get this finished! First Mayternity, in the bag. Of course I needed to use Newt for this. I'm so proud that I've actually managed to complete a seasonal art piece. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

[FIND THE UNCENSORED ART ON TWITTER]

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Okay, I'm not going to lie and say I'm not kind of freaked out. I'm standing in the kitchen wearing a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, quickly scribbling down the time in my notebook.

10:56 PM. I've been in labor for 10 hours, at least. I couldn't really tell at first, thinking the twinge in my lower abdomen was just Braxton Hicks. I ate my lunch and had a nap without a second thought.

Eventually I realized the pain wasn't going away, in fact it was introducing a new pressure in my hips that I was frankly not a fan of. Okay. So that’s how it is.

I started by emailing my professor. Just a vague mention of a family emergency, and that I was going to need an extension on an upcoming essay.

Continuing on, I sent a quick “baby’s on her way!” to the group chat where my friends were dicking around as they usually did. I laughed at their excited responses as I tapped my pen on the paper. Newest contraction started 43 seconds ago. I was doing just fine.

Then to get down to business. I blessed my past self for having half a mind to have everything ready a month beforehand. Everything I needed was in the bottom drawer of the baby’s dresser. A few old towels, a package of training pads, and settled neatly on top was a pair of sterile clamps and scissors within blue plastic packaging. I felt my heart skip a beat when I opened the drawer to set everything up. This was actually happening.

It was a waiting game from then on. Which is how I ended up here. My contractions are now 4 minutes apart and it's really starting to set in. My chest burns in a weird way, most likely a result of binding for years. I accepted the lung damage a long time ago, and it seems to be making itself well known as my breathing grows increasingly ragged. I can't quite keep my legs together anymore with that ever-present weight on my pelvis. It feels like something is about to give at any second. I assume it’s my water, honestly I figured it would have broken by now. I let out a long sigh as the contraction ends and set down the pen. I sway my hips as I flip through the notebook on the counter in front of me. Written on the first page is the date my pregnancy test was positive as well as a few phone numbers. I can still see a few splotches of faded numbers where my tears had mixed with the ink of my favorite pen. The next few pages were symptoms, weight, my medications including my testosterone gel. Everything medical. I was so scared all those months ago, it almost makes me anxious to look back on those pages. I prefer to look at the middle of the notebook, where I noted when I had gone a week without morning sickness, my first weird craving, the bizarre and vivid dreams I was having. My favorite was the page dedicated to name suggestions. All my friends took turns scribbling down names they liked, laughing and teasing each other as we crossed some out and circled others. It isn't too long before I flip to my current page and glance at my phone.

11:00 on the dot.

I bite my lip and continue my swaying with a firm grip on the counter. It hurts now. That's not to say it didn't hurt before, but now it's getting intense. Each clawing contraction feels like a band being tightened around my entire lower abdomen. It's enough to keep me tensed up with my head bowed for its entirety, until finally, finally, there's that give.

I let out a soft groan as my water breaks. It's not a huge gush like in the movies, more of like a gentle pop followed by a steady stream of fluid that lasts a few seconds. I take a moment to assess my situation. Pants need to come off, obviously, but after that? I couldn't quite decide. I weigh my options as I wattle back to my room and remove my sweatpants, tossing them into a laundry pile I'd designated to this whole ordeal. I could lay in bed with a pillow between my knees and just… wait. I quickly toss that option when I realize how little I've sat still since I even realized I was in labor. A shower sounds nice, the wetness between my legs is less than pleasant and the water on my back would be helpful. I could set up a spot on the couch, just throw down some waterproof pads and a towel or two and labor there, maybe get some last minute work done.

I tense up. Oh, now this is different. I subconsciously bend my knees a little as the contraction reaches its peak. The release of pressure when my water broke was heavenly, but the respite didn't last long. Instead the pressure returned, now bringing with it an intense fullness resting just at the base of my pelvis. I grimace as I feel more fluid trickle between my thighs. Shower it is.

I watch the clock switch to 11:04 as the contraction lets up.

It's a short walk across the hall to get to my bathroom. I realize how sensitive my nipples are when I peel off my shirt. I flush at the sound I make when the fabric drags, sending a jolt down my spine. I'm getting worked up and my heart rate quickens for a moment. I turn the faucet tab and slowly drag myself into the tub, letting the warm water run down my back and legs. For a few moments it feels like routine again. Just me and my baby. No college, no work, no bills, no angry parents. Just me, lowering myself to my knees in the shower, my baby burrowing dangerously low in my pelvis with the next contraction.

It's hard to keep track of time from then on. I'm sort of just zoning out a lot, concentrating closely with each new wave of pain and letting my mind wander in the steeply decreasing downtime. Eventually I’m talking aloud to her, telling her how loved she already is, that she can come on out when she’s ready, that I'm so excited to finally meet her. That I'm ready. My mindless blabbering stops when I feel a very sudden shift.

Before I realize it I'm openly groaning into the air with the gripping contraction. It all just got very real, and I can feel myself becoming frantic. The increase in pressure was maddening, and no amount of shifting and rolling my hips would relieve it. My last contraction was at most a minute ago. I don't have long at all. I decide to push, just the tiniest bit, at the end of the contraction. It's just a little shove, I don't even hold my breath. Just enough to try it out and get a feel for the sensation. If she’s coming, she's coming. If she’s not, what happens? I wait a little longer and try again?

Another timid nudge.

Yeah, she’s definitely coming.

As soon as the contraction lets up I turn off the shower and heave myself out to towel off. I almost want to jump out of my skin I'm so excited. A quick collection of my shirt, phone and towel and I’m waddling back into my room, haphazardly tossing them on my bed. I decide to wait until after the next contraction to climb up onto my bed and really get this show on the road. When I get a look at myself in the full length mirror near my dresser I have a chance to catch my breath. My taught belly has noticeably dropped, basically screaming to the world what was about to happen. I'm flushed and sweaty and my wet hair is still sticking to my forehead. I’m all out of sorts, but I couldn't care one bit what I look like right now. Baby couldn't care less either. That telltale tightening grips me again, and when it begs for me to push along with it, I deepen my stance into a half-squat and bare down.

It almost feels… good? It's a very odd sensation but it feels like such a release to finally get to work with the pressure instead of against it. Two firm pushes in front of the mirror and I decided my bed was there if I needed it. Instead, I swipe a training pad from the package and lay it down on the floor in front of the mirror before stepping onto it. And I wait. At this point I'm so eager to push it’s hard to focus on anything else. I slowly lower myself down to be half kneeling, one foot propped up to let my hips open. I suck in a deep breath, and just like that I'm stuck in a contraction and pushing so hard I see my face go red. Exhale, inhale, push like hell. So it goes.

It only takes a few good pushes to feel something hard and very noticeably large lodged in my birth canal. Between pushes one of my hands dips down and curiously prods at my lips. I don't know what I was expecting to feel, she’s definitely not there yet, but nevertheless I’m a lot more sensitive than usual. I feel perpetually slick now considering I've been leaking little by little for the last hour and a half. But that's not just it. The past twelve hours have been the most in-tune I've ever felt with my body, like we’re finally working towards the same goal of giving birth to my daughter safely and calmly. The excitement and the love mixed with the fullness of her head moving downward almost became ecstasy. One accidental brush to my sensitive clit and I'm shivering. The sudden rush of pleasure triggers a contraction and I weakly push through it. Once the contraction ends my fingers slip into my birth canal. I was disappointed for a moment when I didn't feel anything.

Until I did. About two and a half knuckles deep, there was the hard, slimy ball I had been working down for the past twelve hours.

Oh my fucking god, that’s my baby.

I was awestruck. Just allowing the pads of my middle and ring fingers to press against her head was enough to have me grinning like an idiot.

Returning my hand to its place on my knee, I bore down again with the upcoming contraction. This time a low groan escapes my throat and I find myself leaning forward just the slightest bit. Looking in the mirror, I become fixated on the bulge forming behind my lips. I'm leaking fluid considerably now, and I'm grunting out little pushes when I swear I see a dark sliver start to part my folds. I only saw it for a split second. My hand dips between my legs once more and I press a finger into my lips. Sure enough, just out of sight rests my baby’s head. The quick progress I made surprises me, and I let out a breathy laugh as I trace my fingers back up to my dick. The warm tingling in my belly when I rub a few experimental circles into the swollen nub quickly melts my grunts into soft moans. My breath quickens. I was expecting this to be horribly painful, yet here I am moaning with the next contraction. All I can focus on in the mirror is the sight of my lips parting for my baby’s head. I moan through the stretch of my perineum, letting my pleasure bring me higher as I watch my lips pull out into a teardrop shape.

My rubbing has found a steady pace, and my hips buck a bit. I'm close, I can tell, and I feel the head continue to push my lips open. That burn is starting to set in. Another firm push.

I almost yelp when the head stretches me to a full crown, but I find myself so awestruck by the sight that I fail to make any noise at all. My rubbing continues as there the head stays. The burn is searing. Until finally, the release of my orgasm carries me blissfully as the head surges forward with a gush.

I kneel there for a moment, legs shaking and eyes fluttering, as I process what just happened. The aftershocks distract me through the next contraction, giving me time to gather myself. I can see it in the mirror, my baby’s head hanging out of me as it's supported in my hands. A sob rips from my throat as my fingers wander, feeling her tiny ears and nose.

“Oooh-kaaaaay.” I breathe, shaking off the numb tingly feeling that accompanied my orgasm. My fingers fumble around the baby’s neck, quickly untangling the umbilical cord and pulling over her head.

After lifting myself up to standing, the short few steps that should have been my journey to my bed became a quest. I knew I had no chance of closing my legs at this point, so it's a slow shuffle making my way over with shaky legs and a hand between them to support my baby. Climbing up onto the mattress isn't much easier, but I eventually manage to sit up against my pillows, legs butterflied out. From there I wait.

“Come on, kiddo.” I encourage. “I’m ready, you can come out now.” I wiggle my hips and give a tiny push, trying to get her to turn.

Once she does, I'm all in. My hands find purchase behind my knees and I pull back, red in the face as I push as hard as I can for the shoulders. The way I'm sitting, I don’t even need the mirror to see. I watch as my swollen lips spread around the first shoulder, then the other with a small spurt of fluid, and then-

I barely have time to catch her as with the last push, the rest of the baby spills out with a gush.

“Oh my god-” I sputter out as I lift the infant to my chest. As soon as she touches my skin, she begins wailing. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I check her over with wide, misty eyes.

“You are just absolutely perfect, aren't you?”

I giggle at her squirming attempt to get comfortable. So that’s what’s been keeping me up at night.

The ache sets in quickly, and I make quick (quick enough) work of delivering the afterbirth, cutting the cord and making sure we were both cleaned up and warm. Once I'm in a pair of sweatpants and back with her on my bed, I lay her back down on my bare chest, opting for a light blanket to wear cape-style and cover us both. I'm absolutely awestruck.

“Alright, we’ve given your aunts and uncles enough emotional prep time, don't you think?” I say decidedly to the already-sleeping infant as I unlock my phone, quickly finding the “video call” button in the group chat.

I'm grinning like an idiot as three of my friends join the call at lightspeed, the other two following quickly behind.

“Guys, someone wants to meet you!”

[readingsfrommars]

A Hero in a City Full of Giants, Part 2

Alright, I've done Shi Association and Blade Lineage, now it's time for Lobotomy Corp and W Corp! These two will probably be relatively brief (they were not), but if you know the context, it won't come as a surprise.

After this will be Don's Middle and N Corp IDs!

Oh, Lobotomy Corp Don. You silly thing, you. I will say, on a completely unrelated note, it's cool to see how abnormalities look without the cognition filter active.

The Walpurgis night IDs feel slightly less "canon" than the others, to me, although that's more of an opinion thing. I'd be happy to explain why if asked.

Anyway, the fact that Don received a Lobotomy Corporation ID instead of one of the Library of Ruina ones is interesting here, as we know this specifically is the Lob Corp facility we play through in the game. So, we get the benefit of knowing a bit more context toward her working situation, although to be perfectly honest, the only thing that actually matters is the knowledge of her assigned abnormality, O-04-84, or Meat Lantern.

For those who don't know, Meat Lantern can be a rather frustrating abnormality to work with. First of all, it doesn't like if a work session with it ends too early, and is a fairly common escapee when shit hits the fan. Now, if it were any other abnormality this would be fairly manageable, it's just a matter of suppressing it and that's that, but Meat Lantern is a special case.

Firstly, you will not be notified that Meat Lantern has breached containment. Secondly, once you do realise, you will notice that it isn't roaming the facility. Instead, it has teleported somewhere in the facility and is waiting with its lantern sprouted out of the ground like a flower. If someone walks over the flower, they are killed instantly. You will need to find it before it kills too many people, or, worse, kills one of your important agents. It is a deceptively lethal abno with the right circumstances.

So why did I take the time to explain all of this? Well, if you were someone who, for example, aspired to be a hero that helped the weak and were given the responsibility of dealing with an abnormality that when left to its own devices can kill dozens of employees without being noticed, you would probably place a lot of importance on making sure it didn't do exactly that.

Lob Corp Don has a different way of seeing things, comparing it more akin to a game of Hide and Seek and punishing it for the "mischief" of killing multiple people by smacking its backside before placing it back in containment.

While, Don has always been an oddball case, this feels... strange to me. The most likely cause of this in my eyes is the armour she's wearing. As we have been shown through a number of different stories in Project Moon's catalogue, wearing E.G.O is not without its side-effects upon one's psyche. Obviously there is also the working conditions, as multiple instances within Lob Corp show that the body count is very high in that place (Lookin at you, Queen of Hatred). The way that it appears to have affected Don's mind is that she appears to have a great deal of affection towards the abnormalities, calling Meat Lantern (which outright eats people) cute and struggling to punish it for, again, eating people.

Suffice it to say, Lobotomy Corporation Don Quixote is no hero, although she has a commendable work ethic at least.

W Corp Don is a prime example of the speed at which The City can and will bring Don to ruin.

If you know how WARP trains work, you know why I don't need to explain much here. If you don't...

WARP trains are a form of near-instantaneous public transit, which is all well and good until you remember how time works when moving at or close to the speed of light. If you are not in first class seating, you will discover a few things.

Firstly, the train does not, in fact reach its destination instantly. Initially, people on the train may think this is the result of some sort of breakdown, and that, once the train is fixed, they will be able to get out at their desired stop soon.

Secondly, you do not need to eat or drink while on the train. This is not immediately apparent to the passengers, but when minutes becomes hours and the train still hasn't reached its destination, this will eventually be noticeable.

Eventually, hours will become days, weeks, then months. People will begin to panic, some may become violent, and if you are unlucky enough to see someone go past the point of no return, you will learn the final, terrible truth of WARP trains.

You cannot die within a WARP train. No matter what happens to you, you will still be conscious. You are forced to experience the full journey, even after a hundred years and you've watched countless people, who were once strangers, but have become life-long friends in the countless years since. Even after three thousand years, when you have long since forgotten your name, language, and what you were when you got onto the train. You will live through it all.

At your destination, a functionally identical reconstruction of you will leave the train at its destination, completely unaware of the eternity they experienced behind them.

This one does not need much explanation, although I will happily point out one very interesting detail about the ID story.

W Corp Don's ID story does not show her Uptie 3 art at all. All we see after her initial ID art is a black screen as it describes that Don's reaction of disgust and horror is the same reaction anyone has upon learning the truth of the trains.

Instead, the Uptie 3 art gives us the aftermath.

It shows us what the revelation has turned Don into.

Do you see a hero here? Because if you ask me, I don't think the word "hero" will appear in W Corp Don's thoughts ever again after this point.

[butch-reidentified]

wife & I finally watched Killing Eve, and I am just utterly 🤯 by how much of myself I see in Villanelle. the nuances of her reactions, her sense of humor, interpersonal relating, etc., all of it is genuinely deeply relatable. it's the first time I've ever actually truly related to a fictional character overall, rather than just 1 or 2 aspects of a character. as weird as it sounds, it feels like actually very wholesome representation? honestly, I've never really understood why people get attached to fictional characters and even kind of used to make fun of it. I never felt like there was much to relate to. but my wife and I both see it, this dude they consulted for her on-screen character obviously really knows his shit (yeah, this dude, fucking somehow).

him???? kinda pissed ngl. and I'm definitely gonna contact him lmao

but it's undeniable. it's most clear in the subtlest little moments, the little things she does like dumping salt on the curly fries she's sharing with Eve as a playful reaction to an "offensive" joke, the pranks she plays on Konstantin, the things she finds funny, the lack of response when her life is in danger, being ambivalent about prison. and of course the bigger things are just as accurate, and so much better done than any other media portrayal I've seen before. the constant need for escalating stimulation, the s-tier "commitment to the bit" regardless of the situation, the curiosity about herself, the boredom and resulting curiosity about the "normal" human experience & wondering if you can be like them - maybe even convincing yourself for a while, the truth of having some people truly matter to you but at the end of the day you know you're still able to hurt them, the enjoyment of social game-playing - specifically with others who are also knowingly playing social chess* (manipulating unaware people is not entertaining & frankly reminds me of the ways men tend to seek affirmation of their power/superiority by "punching down").

*and enjoying working + thriving in fields where this is required of EVERYONE

I'm posting this a bit late at night in the hopes it's mostly seen by the mutuals who actually come to my blog not just see this on dash, bc this /is/ weird as fuck for me & I'm not super stoked about EVERYONE seeing this, but I have made a commitment on here to challenge myself with consistent and total honesty to the best of my ability. it /is/ disorienting and exciting in its own odd way. but I'm not sure I hate it.

oh, and in s4 when she kills a bunch of women's abusers? the implication throughout the show that she DOES feel some type of way about (at least) 1 moral issue - misogyny? fuck OFFFFF bro wtffff

[otaku-tyriq]

Do you have top 10 or top 7 favorite (fictional) characters (if you feel like listing multiple) of all time from any media?

That is actually a very tricky question, dear Anon. For you see the list if my favourite characters is CONSTANTLY changing. Similar to my list of my favourite songs haha. So I cannot give you a set "All time Favourite” list but I can offer you a "List of Characters Tyriq enjoys at this very moment on the 18th of March 2024”

1) Nero Claudius from Fate/Extra, Fate/Last Encore, Fate/Extella and Fate/Grand Order

The second I had first heard this woman say "umu” that was it for me. I knew I’d be obsessed with her for the rest of my days. She is adorable, she is loyal, she is THAT GIRL, a queen, an emperess, a goddess, and just seeing her instantly makes my brain pump out serotonin. Who even needs anti depressants when you can have Nero.

2) Vash the Stampede from Trigun Stampede

Babygirl. Princess. Loserboy. Golden Retriever Puppy. Beloved Wife. He’s adorable, pathetic, a wonderfully tragic yet optimistic character. He’s my beautiful little princess and I lay my life down before him.

3)Yoimiya from Genshin Impact

Her absolute happy go lucky attitude and sweet personality is like liquid gold shot straight into my arteries. I had fallen in love with this woman the very second I had laid eyes on her. Also she has been my main for two years at this point she’s genuinly just that fun to play.

4) Kaveh from Genshin Impact

The suffering artist trope CRANKED UP TO ELEVEN! Again like Vash this man is equally tragic as he is kindhearted and despite having been scammed out of his money multiple times he still cannot help but sacrifice his own well being if it would result in someone else’s happiness. Also before you ask: Yes, I do ship him and Alhaitham

5) Ichiban Kasuga from Yakuza

What else can I say about Ichiban other than he’s almost stupidly optimistic and no matter how hard of a curveball life throws at him, he ALWAYS keeps the attitude of "once you hit rock bottom the only way is up.”, always trying to both see and bring out the best in people. Also he’s a massive Dragon Quest fan so obviously I’d end up obsessing over this beautiful specimen of a man who at the age of 42 still is not 100% sure where women pee from.

6) Erik from Dragon Quest XI

Honestly I could have EASILY put the entire main cast of Dragon Quest XI on this list because the characters of that game are simply that likeable and well written, but if I had to choose one, it would have to be your very first party member and the hero’s best friend and totally platonic roommate Erik. This man’s sassy attitude yet undying loyalty and devotion towards the hero is so strong not even the apocalypse itself could tear the hero and Erik apart for long.

7) Ryuji Sakamoto from Persona 5

I think at this point y’all are starting to see a pattern in my favourite characters: Ryuji is loyal like a golden retriever puppy, absolutely adorable and sweet with a severe lack of Braincells.

8) Silver the Hedgehog from the Sonic the Hedgehog Franchise

Silver has literally been my favourite Sonic character since Childhood. His whole stick is that he’s unbeatable optimistic. Despite becoming from an apocalyptic future where everything is covered in flames, he never stops believing that things can become better if you try. His naivety however leads to characters like Mephilis abusing his optimism for their own agenda. But none of that stops Silver from

being one of my greatest comfort characters.

9) William James Moriarty from Moriarty the Patriot

✨Be Gay. Do Crime✨

✨Communism✨

✨Clinical Depression✨

All these things and more describe William James Moriarty and he’s so valid for it.

10) The Professor from Puppet History

He’s just a little guy. He’s a little guy and it’s his birthday

[maddymoreau]

I LOVE that we ended up having the same favorite companion, Raul is the best!!

YESSSSSSS 🤝!!!!! RAUL REALLY IS THE BEST!!!!!! I LOVE HIM AND HIS STORY SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

His line before the Second Battle of Hoover Dam made me AN EMOTIONAL MESS ( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ _ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ )!!!!!!

I’M HIJACKING THIS ASK TO RAMBLE ABOUT MY HEADCANONS INVOLVING RAUL!!!

• He’s AroAce

• When upgrading the Presidential Suite in the Lucky 38, Madison (Courier Six) gets the Sunset Sarsaparilla Vending Machine just for Raul. While it comes out of her pay Mr. House restocks it regularly.

• Raul and her both LOVE and bond over sweets. In the beginning Raul would play the 😔 “At my age this might be my last chance to enjoy something sweet” card. It worked every-time on her.

• When Raul gets bubble gum he gives her the temporary tattoo it comes with. Madison hands them out to kids she encounters on her travels (Freeside, The Boomers ETC.)

• She indulges Raul’s sweet tooth to the point he has to go see Dr. Usanagi to get a bad cavity fixed and a few teeth implants.

• Raul teaches her about basic weapon repair. However not enough that she doesn’t need him.

• Together they collect the Star Sunset Sarsaparilla Caps. While not surprised they're both disappointed by the reward. Raul keeps the Pew Pew gun while Madison gives the toy deputy badges to kids.

Afterwards they continue to collect the Star Sunset Sarsaparilla Caps. Inside the Lucky 38 there’s a jar filled with them.

• Out of all the human companions, Raul is the one Madison trusts the most. She will privately discuss Mr. House's plans and what he wants her to do. Madison loves all her companions but knows not everyone would support the actions Mr. House deems necessary. Madison believes once they see the results, they’ll understand. Which obviously isn't the case.

Other companions are uncertain, but Raul is completely aware how loyal Madison is to Mr. House.

Arcade is the best example saying, “I have to say I don't understand where you're going with Mr. House. The man's been manipulating the locals for as long as anyone can remember. If you help him kick the NCR and Legion out, he's going to keep right on doing it. The people in Freeside will be just as bad off as they ever were. If you can find a way to push Mr. House out of the picture as well, I think everyone will be better off."

• Before Raul leaves for his own journey post game, Madison gives him a custom medal. She designed it but commissioned Michael Angelo to make it. It’s something Raul always wears.

• Although Raul becomes the Ghost-Vaquero who hunts down those who prey on the weak. Raul still makes it a point to visit her from time to time. He knows she’d miss his beautiful face.

• While unintentional when Raul visits they ALWAYS end up taking a nap together. They’ll be sitting on one of the couches talking then BOOM knocked out. Old habits die hard.

• Since Madison’s medicine skill is really high she’ll massage Raul and try to help him with his pain.

• Speaking of which after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam Madison’s first luxury purchase is renting out the ENTIRE Ultra-Luxe Casino’s bathhouse.

I imagine they don't typically allow Ghouls in there so she uses this chance to try and help Raul.

Since soaking in salt water has a lot of benefits for your health like easing muscle cramps, relieving stiffness in joints, back pain ETC. She wants to show Raul her appreciation for everything he’s done for her. Also they’re both extremely sore after that huge battle.

I’m not sure if the saltwater used in the Ultra-Luxe Casino is sterile but if it is it’d also be good for any open wounds Raul might have as a Ghoul.

• Madison offers to cover the entire cost for Raul to be put in a chamber similar to Mr. House’s. However he rejects her offer. When Raul eventually dies she broadcasts a recording of a mariachi band through every radio. She doesn't announce his death wanting the legend of the Ghost-Vaquero to live on forever.

This exchange perfectly describes their bond:

Madison: "Come, Raul, adventure awaits!"

Raul: "Sorry boss, but as much as I'd like to risk getting killed by your side, you seem to already have some help." or "Words cannot contain my excitement at the chance to throw myself headlong into danger with you again, boss."

[generalluxun]

Was musing on an idea earlier and I think its a realization you had Marinette have in Chasing a Dream.

Basically how, "Beating" Chloe at her own game so to speak does not actually fix anything. They might win for the day, but Chloe's not going anywhere after loosing the class election, being insulted until she storms out has not changed her.

I imagine one can argue about why it doesn't work, be it from the perspective of "You can't emotionally bludgeon or isolate people into being nicer".

But on a "Stops harassing us" level even it clearly doesn't work. & from personal experience that one can, IE getting jumped by four boys at school but making the resulting slug fest messy and unpleasant enough that they didn't both me again. Didn't necessarily stop them all together but it kept me safe which was the main focus at the time.

But as said, that doesn't work on Chloe cos frankly none of them can match the sheer psychological damage her family does to her by winning in contests or insulting her. So pf course she's just going to default to her instinctive "Fight" response and process the whole thing quickly before moving on. She's been getting worse from this for years.

Meanwhile social isolation only serves to steady exaggerate her issues & the divide.

If the goal is getting Chloe to stop, or change then its obviously failed so just as she's "mad" for repeating the same things and expecting success they are are equally "mad" for thinking that this time her defeat or embarrassment will stick.

Now, if they are aware of that and accept it then that at least shows self awareness but if not... Yeah what is the goal and what method could be used to reach it if defeating her does nothing?

Obviously that doesn't mean just letting Chloe do as she pleases, but there's a very wide range of responses between being a doormat and spending every day in a clash of wills so to speak.

Heck, Kagami's handling of her in their first interaction at least seemed effective for a fair bit of time, though again it didn't fix things, it did at least seem more constructive. Meanwhile we actually have seen Chloe response extremely well to certain types of feedback.

Like, not exactly harping on 14 year old's for not figuring this all out, but I do think its an interesting question for maybe an outsider to pose in a sort of "So what's the end goal here? Cos this obviously sucks for literally everyone & makes everything harder, all the time."

Sorry tis got away from me a bit.

No worries! It's a writing based problem you see:

1)The writerswanted to keep Chloé as a ready antagonist. It makes writing the recurring episodic plotlines easier.

2)The writers decided somewhere in S5 to hold her 'accountable' for the way they prevented her from learning or growing so they could keep using her as a recurring antagonist.

It's in the same vein as the choice the writers made to give Marinette an exaggerated crush for 4 seasons so they could milk it for farcical humor, then turn around and pretend it was actual narrative trauma the whole time.

They want to have their cake and eat it too.

In a broader sense, yeah, the ML writers lack the ability to show any problem being solved by more than an end of episode pep talk. Addiction, abuse, even Gabriel's 'defeat' came down to one. If a pep talk doesn't solve it, they're just 'evil'.