#has someone made this comparison already? if so my bad

[h3xactinellida]

Demolition Lovers - bridge

In the Studio 2002 // LA night 1 2022

[niningtori]

supermodel | part two

part one

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after finding out one of your closest friends sabotaged your relationship with beomgyu in hopes of having him all to herself, you end up spending a night with him. you may come to regret it when you realize beomgyu may not have been as innocent as he initially seemed.

genre: romance, angst, MELODRAMA, yandere, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! yandere!gyu (super manipulative!gyu at least), more (justified imo) cheating, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, pregnancy kink, voyeurism (ig?), dom!gyu, sub!gyu, if i'm missing anything lmk

word count: 6.2k

notes: alright ;_; after much debate i'm reposting this probably only for a few days just so everyone who wanted to read can read it before i (probably) delete again! posting this made me feel rlly insecure for some reason but thanks to my moots and anons i feel a lot better ab it :) at least for a little bit. also, i know the direction may have taken quite the turn but this is genuinely just how it came out 😭 if you don't like it i'm sorry ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ )

it’s hard to reason with beomgyu as he presses hot kisses down your neck, but it’s not like you’re not trying. you think you’re trying really hard, actually, but it’s nothing in comparison to the effort he’s putting in to make you lose your mind. you have no control over your moans when he sucks a hickey into your neck. you feel heat pooling in your stomach as he grabs your ass and snakes his other hand up your hoodie to catch one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he’s finally tasted you and, like a man starved, he’ll be damned before someone takes away what’s his.

“b-beomie, we can’t! let’s go back to my place, at least,” you try to reason, but your resolve is weakening as you feel your pussy wetten under his caresses. 

“shh, hana’s not gonna be home tonight,” he whispers. “just want you so bad, can’t wait.” he looks so earnest, you can’t bear to part from him. his puppy eyes look devastated, so what else can you do besides relent? and he knows it, too. now he’s got you. 

he leads you to hana’s bedroom, where he’s spent countless nights listening to her talk about how much she loves him, has loved him for years. he wants to roll his eyes at this, but he doesn’t want you to misunderstand, so he keeps it to himself. he’ll admit, she really did pull the wool over his eyes when she said you didn’t like him, so he can’t wait to see her reaction when she realizes you two have finally figured it out. if she wants to play dirty, they can both try their hand and see who wins. 

and it feels an awful lot like he’s winning when he sees you undress once again, body bare with traces of him on every part of you. even if he hadn’t marked you up so much, and he has, there’s still evidence of his impact on you leaking out of your pussy. you letting him come inside was truly unexpected, but welcome, nonetheless. he knows, when you’ve sobered up from your lustful daze, you’ll ask him if he’s ever fucked hana raw. you’ll probably cry again and rush to get plan b, but he’ll tell you he’s not stupid. he’d never fuck anyone without protection, especially someone he likes as little as he likes hana. he just likes you so much, he couldn’t help but want to feel you. you’re everything he dared to wish you would be. even better, actually, and now that he’s tasted you, he never wants to stop. 

the feeling of wanting to be close to you reemerges when he sees you dropping to your knees for him. you fiddle with the zipper of his pants and he sighs when cool air meets his bare cock. and you're so perfect with your makeup smudged, hair in disarray, and mouth open, prettily presented for fucking.

you start with a lick of your lips and he’s already rock hard from the anticipation. you grab his base and tease little licks up and down his length. he never thought he’d be particularly into that, really, but you look so hungry for him it makes him whine. finally, you lick the precum off of his tip and he moans when you shallowly take in the tip of his cock, hollowing out your cheeks. you bob your head shallowly and it’s taking every ounce of self control he has not to grab the back of your head and shove himself down your throat. but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he lets you tease him. for now, at least. you take more and more of him into your warm mouth until you can feel his tip searing the back of your throat. you can’t possibly fit all of him into your mouth, so you take the rest of him in your hands. you look up at him with watery eyes, almost like you’re asking for his approval, and his already thinning patience snaps. he grabs your hair and pumps himself in and out of you. you try to meet his thrusts with teasing swipes of your tongue, never once breaking eye contact. the combination of your gaze and the sight of your drool mixed with his precum dripping out of your mouth drives him crazy. 

“baby, look, you’re drooling all over my cock.” you hum in agreement, but a nasty thought crosses his mind as he remembers that you almost went out with another man tonight.

“mmm, who taught you how to use that slutty little mouth?” he asks, riling himself up for reasons unknown. the thought of someone else seeing you like this is enough to push him to madness. he fucks himself into your mouth mercilessly. you’re coughing and slobbering all over his cock, but it’s only when hot tears pour down your face that he registers what he’s doing. how can he bear to hurt you? he pulls out and you’re gasping for air. 

“shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. c’mere,” he coos, leading you to the bed.

you lay down shakily and he takes a moment just to admire your body and the work he’s done to it. he can’t control the want in his gaze when he sees your pussy dripping on hana’s comforter. it’s sick to see, in a way, but it excites him even more. 

“turn around,” he commands, and you would, you really, really would, but your limbs feel so weak, it’s a chore. he sighs and roughly turns you on your stomach himself. he manhandles you into kneeling on all fours and it’s all you can do not to buckle under such force, but you can’t deny the way it makes your pussy clench around nothing when he does this. as if he can read your mind, he lets out a soft laugh as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself in. you’ve obviously just fucked, but you’re still as tight and hot as the first time. slowly, he feels you stretch and spasm to accommodate his length – pussy gripping him like a vise. he shakes when he feels himself completely sheathed in you. 

“g-good girl,” he praises. “so good for me.” then, without giving you another moment to adjust, he begins thrusting into you. his hips meet your ass and he’s awestruck by the sight of it as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix relentlessly. as he’s pumping into your heat, you don’t mean for your arms to give out from under you, but they do. he’s just fucking you so good you can’t help but feel weak. he chuckles at how you’re becoming undone after just a few strokes, but truthfully? he’s endeared. you were so brave in talking back to him earlier, but that attitude is completely gone as you lay there and let him take you over and over again. 

“nghh… not so hard, beomie,” you moan. 

“is it good, baby? i can feel you milking my cock. tell me it’s good, or i’ll stop,” he threatens.

“mmm, ‘s good! too good!”! you cry.

you’re so busy moaning out beomgyu’s name with your face mashed in the pillows, you really don’t hear the apartment door open and keys being thrown carelessly on the table, but as for beomgyu? he hears it all and it brings a mean, lopsided grin to his face. you’d think he would, at the very least, slow down, but he only rams harder and harder into you. the sound of wetness and skin slapping skin echo throughout the room. hana really wasn’t supposed to be home, this much is true, but what beomgyu didn’t tell you is that she had texted him saying her plans have changed and that he should come over. truly, he couldn’t have conjured up a better outcome than the one unfolding before him.

“beomgyu?!” hana shrieks. you’re so surprised you nearly jump out of beomgyu’s grasp, but he holds your ass in place as he continues his thrusts.

“don’t listen to her, just feel me,” he says in a raspy tone. and what can you do besides listen when he drills himself even harder into you? when you feel the veins of his cock dragging against your insides, you’re tuning out hana’s desperate cries, intentionally or not.

“coming inside, okay?” he, well, you would say ‘asks’, but it’s more of a statement of fact rather than a question. “take it all, baby,” he says as his hips begin to stutter. he smacks your ass — just because he can — and you feel it pulsate throughout your entire body as you clench around him, seeing nothing but white behind your eyelids as your release finally comes along with his.

you’re gasping for air when you finish. he carefully pulls out and watches as your cum and his mix together in the most sinful way. it’s a truly a sight to see, and if he had more time, he would be whipping out his phone and capturing the moment to revisit the next time he’s alone, but hana’s words are cutting into his bliss before he can fully appreciate the sight before him.

“b-beomie? w-what’s going on?” hana asks, tears streaming unabashedly down her pretty face. beomgyu is far too preoccupied to appreciate them, though, as he gently helps you sit up and thoughtfully wipes the drool and tears off of your face. 

“‘what’s going on?’” he begins mockingly. “do you really need me to show you again?” he sneers. 

meanwhile, you feel like a deer in headlights as you meet hana’s gaze. you feel dirty and small as you try your damndest to cover yourself up. hana’s soft eyes harden while she stares at you. 

“you. you did this, you fucking slut,” she spits. you break your gaze and stare down at your naked body. you feel incredibly vulnerable because, as you already know, she’s right. you feel your eyes heat up with tears, this time from guilt and humiliation rather than pleasure.

“you’d better watch your fucking mouth,” beomgyu says, eyebrows furrowed and voice even deeper than usual. 

“i just don’t understand. why? why her? and how could you do this to me? you said you loved me!” she shrieks, grabbing beomgyu’s arm. he harshly pulls away and instead collects your sweats and hoodie. you can’t help but stare. he said he loved her then he turned around and fucked you? oh no. 

“well, i lied, if that’s not clear enough,” he shrugs, gingerly dressing you like you’re some kind of catatonic doll. and, right now, you might as well be as you let him do what he wants. his callous words don’t match his gentle actions and it’s making your brain short-circuit. 

“if and when he does the same shit to you,” she says, looking at you with more hurt than you’ve ever seen on a person, “don’t you fucking dare come crying to me. or any of our friends, actually. just wait ‘til they hear what you fucking did.” you shiver at her ominous words. she’s right, after all. beomgyu dropped her the second you showed interest in him, who’s to say he won’t do the same to you? sure, he’s acting lovey dovey now, but you’ve seen firsthand how quickly his tune can change. you’re absolutely fucked. it’s your word against hers, and with the evidence of your betrayal seeping into her sheets, you don’t like your odds. you can’t help but stare at beomgyu, and, as if he’s reading your mind, he says his next words patiently.

“i love you. i would never hurt you like this.” he loves you now? you continue to look at him doubtfully. his words seem cheap after hana’s unforgiving speech, and he realizes he’s losing you when you don’t respond. hana doesn’t stop there, though.

“if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he’ll do to you,” she laughs. hana is, objectively speaking, a lot more of a catch than you are. and to the very bitter end, she won’t let you fucking forget it.

“shut your fucking mouth!” he exclaims and she flinches, as do you. you’ve never seen him so angry and it’s enough to scare you. 

“... i should go,” you croak.

“yeah, you should,” hana ridicules. you do an incredibly shaky walk of shame as you quickly gather your things. 

“hey, wait!” he pleads, but you’re already booking it out of the door. he goes to run after you, but hana grabs him forcefully by his shoulder and he spins around to face her. you slam the door, not wanting to know what kind of makeup sex they will probably be having relatively soon. as soon as you’re gone, hana begins.

“are you fucking crazy? her, of all people?!” she hisses.

“i thought i told you to watch how you talk about her,” he says lowly. his eyes are so intense, she’s momentarily stunned, but he’s crazy if he thinks that’ll shut her up. perhaps to her eventual regret, she says her next words.

“if i tell everyone, she’ll be fucking ruined. she’ll have nobody after this.” 

“so?” 

“so, stay with me,” she says softly, while, to his disgust, grabbing his hands and pleading with him. “stay with me, and i won’t tell anybody.” she looks as pathetic as a dog right now, and her words make him laugh in her face.

“tell them,” he says. 

“w-what?” she sputters.

“tell them all. i want you to tell them how i fucked one of your best friends and got her pregnant. tell them how i fucked her raw in your own bed. go on, i’d love to see their reactions when they find out.” 

“you’re… you’re fucking crazy,” she gasps.

“maybe, but not crazy enough to stay with you,” he shrugs. “i got what i wanted, i don’t need you anymore.” for once, she shuts her mouth. the puzzle pieces finally fit together and her jaw drops in awe.

“you did this on purpose?” 

“maybe you’re not as dumb as you look,” he sneers, and with that, he zips up his pants and pats her cheek. “you were okay in bed, but that’s about it.” 

her tears are falling, but that does nothing to mar her beauty. still, his heart remains unfazed. 

“when she finds out, she’ll leave you,” she sobs.

“and who will she believe? her ex friend who’s out to get her, or me? the only person she has left? i’d love to see who she believes.” his words leave her in even more tears, but he does nothing to placate her. he just grabs his shit and slams the door behind him.

-

hana wastes no time in telling your friends about your scandal. your incoming texts range from “what the fuck is wrong with you” to “is it true?” to “you’d better not show your face to us again”.

you attempt to explain yourself, but to no avail. even if hana lied to you first, you committed the ultimate betrayal with a smile on your face. nobody wants to hear your sob story about your forbidden love with beomgyu. nobody, not even your best friend, dares to defend you now.

the one person who’s on your side has been texting you relentlessly, though. beomgyu’s insistence on making sure you’re okay does little to quell the uneasiness in your heart. hana’s words resound in your head. “if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he does to you.” you don’t want to give him that chance, but your resolve is weakening when you feel yourself becoming more and more isolated from the people you used to call your friends. 

for days, you don’t leave your house except to go to work. where else can you go? you don’t have anyone to go out with you anymore. still, beomgyu texts and attempts to call you through it all. his messages are all about how much he loves you, how much he misses you, how much he needs you. how much he promises to make things right with you and how you’re the only one he’s wanted all along. more and more, you feel yourself slipping away. even though you never respond, you still sift through his messages and it’s enough to bring smiles, no matter how small, to your face. he loves you, wants you, needs you. who else do you have in your life to say things like that to you? 

still, the thought of trusting him scares you to your bones. what if he does the same shit to you? you don’t have a support system anymore. you don’t have anybody to rely on when he inevitably hurts you in the same way. why wouldn't he, after all? you’re no match for the kind of girls who come his way. what happens when he gets sick of you and wants to fuck another girl in your bed? you’re stuck with these thoughts as you nurse a bottle of vodka, alone in your apartment with nobody but yourself. this is what you deserve, you think. 

a knock on your door is enough to pull you out of your drunken haze. is it one of your friends? could they have finally gotten over their intial shock and disgust and understood that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did? you stumble to the door and you’re too drunk to even think about checking who it is before desperately swinging open the door. you are not met with the familiar face of one of your friends, however. instead, you see the face of the boy who’s been haunting your dreams for the past few nights.

“beomgyu?” he looks absolutely devastated, eyes reddened and wet with his face ghostly pale. he reeks of alcohol and he stands almost tremblingly. he doesn’t respond to you, just stares at you with the same intensity that entranced you from the very beginning.

“what are you doing here?” you ask. 

“can i come in? please?” you’ve never been able to say no to him, and you especially can’t in his current pathetic state. you move from the doorway to allow him access and quietly shut the door behind him.

“what do you want?” you try.

“want you,” he sobs, tears finally flowing from his sad brown eyes. “only ever wanted you.” your heart aches when you see him like this. you thought hana’s reaction was devastating enough, but he looks absolutely wrecked right now, putting her despair to shame, really. 

“i don’t know what to say,” you admit. “we fucked up, plain and simple. and i don’t know how i can trust you after what we did.” you’re not a victim in this, to be clear, but you’re far too vulnerable to accept the heart that he's holding out for you so carelessly. 

“i know, and i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. what can i do to make you trust me?” he begs. your already soft heart softens even more at his words, but you have to be realistic.

“i… i don’t think i can. if you had just talked to me in the first place things could've been different,” you reason. this only puts the boy in an even worse state. he’s almost wailing now, and he looks to you for comfort.

“p-please, just please. give me one chance,” he cries, looking absolutely frantic. “i’ll prove it to you, just let me.” he reaches for your face and you didn’t even realize you’re crying until he swipes away your tears. well, you’re already going to hell. what’s the point in atoning for your sins now? 

as if he can read your mind, he musters up a shaky smile before leaning in and giving you a chaste kiss. his lips taste salty, but sweet, and he’s kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt before. you almost believe him when he says you’re the only one. almost.

“h-how do i know you’re not going to do the same thing to me?” you ask unsteadily. 

“i would never,” he says immediately. “i would never hurt you.” at least, not like this. but you don’t know that yet. 

-

in the weeks following his drunken appearance at your door, being with beomgyu is even better than you thought it would be. it’s like a switch has been turned back on and he’s back to treating you like a princess, almost like the months since your “breakup” never happened. he randomly brings you flowers, showers you with kisses, and he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you along with declarations of love, which you never directly reciprocate. no matter how well he treats you, though, there’s an underlying sense of unease. you still find it difficult to fully trust him, and he can tell. it’s driving him to the brink of madness trying to come up with ways to show you how much he cares.

you’re in the middle of pensively reevaluating the nature of your relationship with beomgyu for the 100th time when you hear a knock on your door. at this point, you don't even bother checking who it is because you already know it'll be beomgyu. no matter how desperately you wish it were one of your ex-friends, you’re always met with his face, instead. you open the door and you’re shocked, to put it mildly. standing before you is not the beomgyu you know and (probably) love, but hana.

“we need to talk,” she grumbles. almost as if you’re possessed, you let her in without much fuss. is she here to rekindle your friendship? to tell you she’ll forgive you after what you’ve done to her? 

“hana, listen i’m so incredibly sor—” 

“save it,” she says, lifting her hand. “i’m only here ‘cause i have something i need to say to you. it took me weeks to come here because i don’t even wanna look at you.” you gulp and nod, genuinely anxious as to what she has in store for you.

“i’m just going to tell you straight up. beomgyu’s not who you think he is,” she deadpans. 

“w-what do you mean?” if she’s talking about how he’ll eventually betray you, you’ve already thought of that. why she thinks this is news to you, you don’t know.

“listen to me, he planned this whole fucking thing.” what could she possibly mean by that? he planned to get caught by her? that doesn’t even make sense. “i told him i’d be home the night that i walked in on you.” your jaw drops in horror, but she continues as if she doesn’t notice.

“i think… i think he heard us over the phone and knew you’d be there before meeting with jay. he told me he wanted our friends to find out and to see who you’d believe if i told you. whether you believe me or not, i really don’t give a fuck, but it’s true. he said he got what he wanted, so he doesn’t need me anymore.” she chokes on her last words and you can't help but feel sorry for her, but that feeling is overshadowed by the feelings of anger towards beomgyu. you don’t think hana would lie about this. she looks so flustered and heartbroken, you don’t believe for a second that she’s lying just to rile you up. before you can reply, the door opens and beomgyu’s figure appears in your doorway. he has a smile on his face, but it drops lightning fast when he sees who’s standing there.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” he says with a scowl.

“i’m on my way out,” hana mumbles, pushing past him. he doesn’t even attempt to stop her. he registers the mixed emotions on your face and he can guess what she said to you without much effort.

“let me explain,” he says lowly, already heading towards you to placate you like you’re some sort of wild animal he has to coax. and you’re so angry, you might as well be.

“explain what? that you ruined my fucking life?” you spit. he flinches at your tone, even more so at your next words. “what i don’t understand is why? is my life a fucking game to you?” his face crumbles at this. 

“n-no! never!” he sputters.

“then what is this? what’s your reason for planning for hana to walk in us? is this a kink or something?” he shakes his head frantically. 

“you don’t understand, i just wanted it to be us,” he pleads. “i don’t like them. they’ll just try to take you away from me.” 

“take me away from them? beomgyu, i’m not some fucking toy. i’m a person. a person whose life you fucking ruined for no reason!” you exclaim. you’re so frustrated you could cry, so you do. does he not realize how badly he fucked you over? “you promised you’d never hurt me,” you sob.

“i-i did it for us! they wouldn’t care about how we feel… they’d just take hana’s side without even thinking about it!” he argues, grabbing your hands. you want to pull away, but if you do, that means you’ll be completely alone. 

“you didn’t even give them a chance,” you reason. “now it’s really over,” you say between sobs. “i… i could’ve talked to them, but you ruined it!” 

“i just want you all to myself, is that so bad?” he asks, as if he genuinely can't understand why you’re so upset. he’s actually sick in the head.

“why?!” you ask again, ripping your hands from his grasp.

“because i love you,” he says desperately. “i just love you so much. i’m sorry, i’ll never do anything like this again,” he promises. 

“yeah, you won’t,” you reply bitterly. “because i won’t give you that chance.” 

“w-what do you mean?” he asks, lips trembling and eyes red.

“i’m not doing this with you anymore. this whole thing was doomed from the start,” you reply firmly. he shakes his head as if denying it with fervor will undo what you’ve said, tears now flowing freely from his reddened eyes.

“no, p-please,” he cries. “i only did it because i love you so much. ever since i first saw you, i only ever wanted to be with you. i… i know i fucked up, but it was the only way. believe me, please.” your already soft heart is softening even more as you listen to the desperation in his voice. he sounds so lost and scared, as if he really doesn’t know what he’ll do if you tell him no. you briefly wonder if he’s ever heard the words: “no, beomgyu. you’ve gone too far this time.” but as you watch him come undone before you, you don’t think you’ll be able to be the one who tells him no, anyway. 

“i’m giving you one, and i mean one, last chance. if you fuck up this time, i promise you, you’ll never see me again,” you declare. you don't know what you’re expecting, really, but the sight of even more tears streaming down his face is not it. he grabs you and pulls you in his warm and trembling embrace.

“th-thank you,” he cries. “you won’t regret this.” 

“i’d better not,” you mumble. even if you do, you can’t deny the way your heart skips a beat at his pure, unadulterated need for you. even if you do come to regret it, it’s impossible to look at him right now and say he’s not being sincere. he pulls away from you and hurriedly captures your mouth, and as if your next words will take back what you said, he seals them in your throat before you can manage to get anything more out. as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel something hard and angry poking into your stomach.

“already?” you tease. he actually blushes at this.

“can’t help it. need you,” he replies sheepishly. 

“you need me, huh? is that why you’ve been so bad?” you ask, palming him deliciously through his pants.

“n-not bad! just love you so much, couldn’t stop myself.” your temper actually flares a little at this. you palm him more harshly and his breath catches when you do.

“really? but you’ve been so bad, i don’t think you deserve me,” you say menacingly, pulling your hand away. he audibly whimpers at this.

“no, no, no, please! i’ll be good from now on,” he pleads as he grabs your hand and begins to snake it under the waistband of his pants. you let him, but you don’t take his hardened length into your hand like you usually would. instead, you tease the sensitive area around it, even going so far as to ghost your fingers over his balls, but you conveniently avoid giving him any sort of friction or attention, so he’s gasping when you give him a mean and unexpected tug. 

“p-please stop teasing me,” he cries, eyes so beautiful and watery. “i know i’ve been bad, but i can make you feel so good.” he’s right, in a way. you’ve never and will never feel as good as you do when beomgyu pumps into you and shoots his hot load in your pussy, but he’s deranged if he thinks you’ll let him have you so easily tonight. not after what he’s done.

“hmm, i’m not so sure about that,” you hum. you lead him to your bedroom as if he’s hypnotized. you haven’t even let him enter you yet, if you’re going to let him do so at all, but he’s already acting like he’s drunk on you. 

“strip,” you command simply. without any questions or doubts, he eagerly takes off his hoodie and shoves his pants down, stepping out of them and closer to you. it’s sickeningly sweet to see how possessed he is by you. he tries to take your own clothes off, but you smack his hand away. 

“bad boy,” you say, and he whines like a dog. “lay down.” he does what you say, lying completely exposed on your bed as he gives a few pulls on his throbbing cock. “stop fucking touching yourself or you’re not getting anything from me,” you add, and he whines even louder. 

“please touch me,” he begs, cock standing all red and weeping. 

“you don’t deserve it,” you shrug. you take off your pants and he leches at the image of your pussy dripping wet for him, and so soon. all he can think about is how warm it is and how fervently he wants to be in it. he thinks you’re going to sit on his cock, because that would be the most natural course of action, but all you do is lay next to him and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. a vibrator. are you fucking serious? 

“no!” he begs, already knowing how this is going to go.

“you can take what you get from me or you can beat it,” you bite back. that shuts him up. he’s biting his lip, trying not to get scolded again, but he can’t help but whine again when you spread your legs and turn your vibrator on. 

“ah,” you moan as the rubber tip hits your clit. “feels so good.” 

“i’d feel better,” he insists, eyes widened and desperate like a madman. 

“touch yourself,” you say in response. “i'm not touching that dirty cock of yours, so take care of it yourself.” he doesn’t need to be told twice. he immediately spits on his hand and begins to wildly jerk his weeping cock. he whines at the friction. you, however, are so lost in the feeling of the vibrations pulsating throughout your pussy, you couldn’t seem to care less about what he does. this only makes him whine even louder. he’s experiencing pleasure, sure, but the sounds coming from him are exaggerated and theatrical. he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. he just wants you to look at him, is that too much to ask?

you open your eyes at his petulant noise and say your next words so quietly, if he wasn’t paying more attention, he’d miss them. “kiss me.” so he does. the kiss is filthy and nothing more than the tangling of tongues, but that combined with the stimulation on your poor pussy is enough to make you near the edge. 

beomgyu can tell you’re close, and his kisses become even more heated as he abuses his cock under his hand. he’s moaning into your mouth, showing you, in no uncertain terms, just how badly he wants to be in you instead. 

“let me do it,” he begs. “come around me, instead. it’ll feel so much better.” his dirty words break you out of your trance and you annoyedly shut the vibrator off while tossing it god knows where. you tear his hand away from his cock and mount him, teasingly rubbing yourself against him, but refusing to put it in. he whines and pouts, but you’re far too busy trying to get yourself off to appease him. then, as if he’s possessed, he raises his hips and his tip catches on your entrance. you both gasp at his shallow intrusion. 

“p-please sit on it, it hurts,” he asks rather pathetically. 

“i can’t, beomie. you haven’t even fingered me yet — you’ll break me in half,” you say provocatively. he whimpers at the imagery. “and you've been so bad, how can i let you get what you want? you’ll never learn if i do that.” 

“i’ve learned! i promise, i’ve learned! just, please, help me,” he cries, bucking his hips up and holding your waist so hard you’ll know he’ll leave bruises. 

“mmm, i don’t knowwww,” you drawl.

“please!” and with that, you angle your hips and begin to sink on his thick length. the stretch burns and you can’t help but cry out as you feel your pussy enveloping every inch of him mercilessly. he’s in tears when he feels you throbbing around him, pussy stretching to accommodate how big he is. when you finally, finally take him all in, he can’t help but begin to fuck into you wantonly. 

“b-beomie, slow down!” 

“c-can’t! feels so good,” he says, tears streaming down his pretty face. he grabs your waist even tighter and flips you around so you’re lying beneath him. his cock continues to hammer into you and you’re seeing stars. his mouth is open, drool pooling out of the corners of his lips, and he’s moaning out your name like a prayer.

“pussy so good, so perfect,” he babbles. “missed this. missed feeling you like this.” 

“i missed it too,” you admit. 

“wanted you, wanted you for so long,” he continues. you don’t even think he knows what he’s saying, but you can tell he means every word. he reaches to your stomach and presses down where his cock is ramming into you. your eyes roll back at the pleasure that comes with the pressure. 

“my baby could be in here,” he muses. “our baby.” this should scare you into sobriety, but it does nothing of the sort. you find yourself tightening even further at the thought of him breeding you like a bitch. 

“i’ll take care of you, i swear,” he says as he thrusts so hard your head nearly meets the headboard. “i’ll give you everything you need. sh-shit, baby, wanna fill you up so good you feel me for days,” those words in addition to his sloppy thrusts are what send you over the edge. you clench around him and he hisses at how you’re even tighter than usual. you feel his thrusts become even more sporadic and he’s emptying himself into you unceremoniously. as he softens, he pulls out and you wince at the feeling. to your surprise, he moves down to your pussy and begins to lap up all of the cum like a starving animal. then, he pulls you in for one last nasty kiss. 

-

you don’t know if you necessarily trust beomgyu, but it’s hard not to at least try to when he basically prostrates himself in front of you on a daily basis. he lets you walk all over him, really. if you call him, he comes running. if you’re mad or upset, he soothes you. when you’re being unreasonable, he reasons, anyway. you still haven’t heard from your friends, but you’re starting to accept the fact that you never will. he introduces you to his friends, and surprisingly, they actually welcome you with open arms. apparently, they didn’t like hana very much and knew beomgyu always had a thing for you. you’re not sure how to feel about that, but you’re flattered, nonetheless. 

you call beomgyu crazy, and maybe he is, but he always says it's because he's crazy in love with you. you want to playfully smack him when he says such cheesy words, but you're starting to really believe him.

[kirain]

Why would you pick Gale over Astarion? Man's a walking 🚩

Okay. 😒

This is the third anonymous message I've received regarding my Gale romance, and I genuinely don't get it. This isn't even a Gale-oriented blog, plus I've already answered it. I like him better. That's all there is to it. I've seen other users get hit with this question, too; as if Astarion's the only "right" choice, and it's never even warranted. I haven't said a bad word about Astarion or anyone who romances him, but the irony of you calling Gale a red flag, then shaming me for not choosing Astarion is mind-blowing. If Gale's a red flag, Astarion's an entire bunting.

Since you've pushed me, I would rather romance any of these NPCs before canonically choosing that bitchy Q-tip:

Hope that answers your question, anon. 👌

I was trying not to let it happen, but this fandom has effectively ruined any appreciation I might've had for the character. At this point, I'm just sick of hearing about him, especially in comparison to Gale. Everything isn't about Astarion, anon. Believe it or not, there are other really great characters, but fans like you just can't get through the day without propping him up above all others.

A few hours ago, as I was considering how to respond to this message, I bumped into this drama on a post about Shadowheart. Long story short, the uploader made a positive video where their Tav hugs Shadowheart during her personal quest, then someone came in to talk about how Astarion is "so much better" and expressed their desire to hug him during his personal quest.

Enough is enough. Seriously. I could go on and on about why Gale is actually a green flag, but I feel like I've done that extensively on this blog. And people like you will probably just disregard it anyway, because you don't like him. At the end of that day, that's really your motivation behind this, isn't it? You don't like Gale and you feel invalidated by people who do. I'm sorry, but that's a you problem. Don't go after people just because they prefer a different character. It's ridiculous.

And you know what the saddest part of this is? Astarion was next on my list to be romanced. I made a cute half-elf Durge character just for him. I wanted to do a redeemed run, since I've heard it's really rewarding ... but now I kind of don't care. Thanks for that, anon.

[whompthatsucker1981]

you said you think gay sex cats is the new duchamp's fountain. i dont disagree and i kinda see what you mean already but please elaborate

it was a silly and tongue in cheek way to say that a lot of people are getting mad about it in a way that implies reactionary views on art, and that there's no way to say gay sex cats isn't art that wouldn't also imply that the fountain isn't art. a funny meme image is a funny meme image, but it is also funny to overthink and recontextualize them as art.

and the reaction makes the comparison even more apt. neural net generated artworks are anonymized mass produced images, vast majority having no artistic pretension or meaningful content such as a thomas kinkade painting. gay sex cats was made with no intent to be art, but the discourse it has with audience reaction and its appropriation in derivative works make it so. why is gay sex cats not art if people talking about it negatively allow it to be called art? is art only things you find beautiful and valuable? if so, what is value and beauty, and how do you draw the line? if gay sex cats was still ai generated but had more "aesthetic qualities" would it be art? if someone copies the original image by hand with all its ai generated faults where is the value generated? does the original still have no merit of its own, even after appropriation as a digital ready-made?

but the main reason as to why gay sex cats is comparable to the fountain still is because it made a lot of people with bad takes on art really really mad. and that the pissed off tags wouldn't look out of place as reaction to modern art in the 1920s. art is a flat circle

EDIT: well. putting an addendum because in retrospect more people took either or both the op and image in face value and much more self serious than ever intended. a lot of people understood the tone i was getting at, and i still stand by the questionings i added on, but still for clarification. the original comparison is not serious. it's self evidently ridiculous to compare a meme image to a historically significant artwork, the comparison was only drawn because they were both controversial to an audience, who reacted denying their status as respectively as an image and as art, and that it was funny that the negative reaction people had to the original image explicitly denied its status as art, even if the meme never had pretension to be art, so it was funny to draw a comparison and iterate on that.

i did think it was valid to bring in questionings about art and meaning because that's the reaction i saw most and wanted to make people think about the whys, and that also i do not think it's valid to base your dislike on ai art on either grounds of questioning its position and value as artwork, or even as a question of ip theft. regular degular handmade art can be soulless, repetitive, thoughtless, derivative, unethical, open and blatant theft, and much more, and that does not make it any less of an artwork. neural nets are tools that generate images by statistic correlation through human input.

the unambiguous issue with neural nets in art is its use as a tool by capital, to threaten already underpaid and overworked working artists and to keep their labor hostage under threat of total automation. in hindsight i regretted not adding the paragraph above as it was a way in which people could either misinterpret or assume things about me, but hindsight is hindsight and there's no way to predict how posts would blow up. so shrugs. i had written more posts in my blog that elaborated on that because asks would bot stop coming. and i think my takeaway is that people will reblog anything with a funny image without reading the words around it, or even closely looking at the image.

[finelinefae]

home (doctor!harry)

synopsis: y/n is homesick and harry wants to help her

word count: 7.7k

contains: fluff, Filipino y/n, doctor harry, medical talk, homesickness, brief moments of discrimination, workplace bullying, rude co-workers

a/n: happy soft girl sunday!!! this is such an interesting and personal topic for me because so much of this was inspired by my mama and her own personal experiences of leaving her home in the Philippines and moving to an entirely different country to create a better life for herself. this one is for all of my girls who are struggling with homesickness, who work in a job because they have to not because they want to, who try to support their families, who work in healthcare, whose first language is not english, who feel as though their identity is muddled up and so much more- this is for you and this is for my mama too.

. . .

‘You have just as much right to be here as everyone else.’

That’s what Y/N had been telling herself since she had left for work in the early hours of this morning. She had barely slept a wink last night, tossing and turning as her mind was riddled with things that hadn’t happened but weighed so much. 

Her backpack was filled with the things she listed weeks before. Her scrubs, a packed lunch, water, a few snacks to eat throughout the day and a couple of things loose at the bottom that jangled with each step she took towards the tube station. On her feet was a new pair of trainers her mother had bought her before she took the plane to a country she had never stepped foot in before the beginning of this month. 

“Mahal kita, mamimiss kita.” I love you, I will miss you. Her mother had said as she dropped her off at the airport. No tears in her eyes because they were all in Y/N’s as she clenched her fingers around the handle of her small suitcase that was just enough to last the first few months out of the three years she’d be living away from her family. 

“Mama,” Y/N cried, her family weren’t criers but today she was. 

Y/N’s mother shook her head, refusing to allow herself to cry when this was meant to be good. “Gagawa ka ng mga magagandang bagay.” You will do such good things. Her mother wiped away her tears, “Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better. 

Y/N was homesick as soon as the plane lifted off the ground of her home country. The trouble with planes was the window was always too small and she could only ever look down and not behind. Once they flew over her country of the Philippines, she took in everything she possibly could - the bright colours of the sea and the sand on the beaches that stretched for miles. 

She would come back and she would be better, for her family. 

As she stepped off of the tube train and walked up the steps towards the light, she took the sunshine peeking through the gaps of the grey clouds in the London sky as a good sign. Even though things weren’t easy, it doesn’t mean they were bad. 

The hospital was huge in comparison to the hospitals where she had done her training back home. It took her a while to find where the entrance was without going in through the emergency department but eventually, she found her way to the front desk. 

"Hi," Y/N said softly, feeling unsure. Even though she was good at English after years of studying it during school, she still doubted herself, especially around fluent speakers. It made her feel embarrassed and more of an outsider than she already was. “I’m Y/N, I’m here to pick up my ID badge.” 

The woman at the desk, peered over her glasses and smiled, “Is today your first day?” 

“Yes, I’m a healthcare assistant,” Y/N offered a smile, as best as she could despite her nerves. 

The woman’s fingers clacked against the keyboard, “I’m afraid your ID badge has yet to be delivered so I’ll have to give you a temporary one.” 

Y/N’s smile faltered, “Oh okay,” 

“Let me print one out for you, I’ll be right back.” The receptionist slid off her chair. 

Y/N stood to the side, her eyes darting around the hospital. There were many healthcare workers already at work, pushing patients around in wheelchairs or walking in pairs down huge corridors. She gripped the strap of her backpack, her palms sweating. 

Suddenly, a man stepped up to the desk beside her, reaching over to grab a clipboard and a pen. He was wearing a white shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. Y/N’s eyes narrowed on his badge, seeing the word ‘Doctor’ written in bold. 

"Can I help you?" he asked in a detached tone, his attention elsewhere.

Y/N hesitated, noticing his lack of focus. "Um, no, I'm just waiting," she stammered.

He scoffed dismissively. "Typical," he muttered, setting the clipboard back down and finally turning to face her.

Y/N was taken aback by his striking appearance. Her breath caught as she met his gaze, momentarily forgetting her surroundings. His features were chiselled, framed by dark hair that fell effortlessly across his forehead. But it was his piercing eyes that held her captive, a mesmerising shade of green that reminded her of the leaves off the mango trees that grew in her hometown. 

His gaze found hers, and she noticed the subtle parting of his lips as his eyes settled on her. There was a softness in his gaze, a gentle relaxation evident in the way his shoulders eased down. Maybe it was from how frightened she looked as her gaze landed on everything around her but his voice was softer now, a hint of concern evident beneath the initial hardness, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she regained her composure. "Uh, no, I'm fine, thank you," she managed to reply, feeling a flutter in her chest at the unexpected kindness in his tone.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “Well alright then. I know how hard first days can be so if I see you around, don’t worry about asking me for help.”

“Oh uh, thank you…Doctor,” Y/N replied, taken aback by his kindness. 

“Y’ can call me Harry,” She noticed a dimple appear when he smiled. His eyes were fixed on her for a beat before he pointed to his name badge and continued, “S my name y’ see.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and a little giggle escaped her, “It’s a nice name.”

“What’s your name?” Harry asked but was interrupted by the receptionist returning.

“Good morning Doctor Styles,” She greeted as she sat back at the desk.

“Good morning Hannah,” Harry replied, his eyes darting from Y/N to Hannah.

The woman slid the badge over to Y/N. It was a printed-out copy of the badge she was supposed to have gotten, laminated and whole-punched to a lanyard. Y/N took it between her fingers and read her name on it, her eyebrows furrowing. “Um, I think my last name is spelt wrong,” Y/N said, it would be fine if it was a small spelling mistake but it may as well be a completely different name with the way it had been spelt. 

“Sorry?” Hannah’s smile faltered. 

"U-um, my last name is spelled wrong. I-I'm sorry, I don't want to be such a pain," Y/N stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she handed the lanyard back to the receptionist.

The receptionist glanced at the name badge, and then back at Y/N. "Oh, it must be because it's such a complicated name. I must have spelt it wrong on the computer. Are you sure you can't just use it? Only until your ID comes in?"

Y/N felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She hated confrontation or being an inconvenience, but she had already given up so much for a better life here. She couldn't give up her name too. "But it's my name," she insisted softly, her voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and determination.

Just as the receptionist's mouth opened to respond, the Doctor, who had been silently observing, cleared his throat. "Hannah, I think it would be better if we give Y/N the correct name on her own ID badge, don't you think?" He interjected gently, coming to Y/N's aid without hesitation. “The whole point of it is to let people know who we are, we wouldn’t want people getting Y/N’s name wrong on her first day would we?”

Hannah frowned and Y/N could tell she wasn’t happy, “Right, I’ll be right back.” 

Y/N released a sigh, putting a hand to her forehead, “Thank you, Doctor Styles.” She said even though she was extremely embarrassed. 

“Hey it’s Harry,” He smiled, “And you were right to argue with her, ‘s your name which is beautiful by the way.”  Y/N's cheeks flushed even deeper at his compliment, but she managed a shy smile in return, feeling a sense of gratitude for Harry's kindness and support. “Don’t let these people push you around. You have just of a right to be here as everyone else.”

Y/N’s lips parted as he spoke the words she had been repeating to herself since she woke up. Y/N watched him go, her heart still racing at the unexpected encounter, a newfound warmth spreading through her as she resumed her wait in the bustling hospital corridor. 

Hannah soon returned with an annoyed look on her face as she handed Y/N her temporary badge with her name written correctly. She thanked her and walked away already having gained a possible enemy but maybe a possible friend too. 

 . . .

“I don’t want her as my nurse,” An elderly patient said midway through the day as they were serving lunch. 

Y/N had been in her scrubs for five hours, with another seven to go. Her feet ached from standing all day, attending to the patients that had been assigned to her at the start of the day. While some of the other healthcare workers had been welcoming, she couldn't ignore the clear divide between them. They tended to gather in separate groups and have their own cliques going on amongst them, but Y/N appreciated their support as she adjusted to her new role, minding her own business as she did. 

“Margot,” Layla, another healthcare assistant, spoke to the eighty-year-old woman who was laying in bed waiting for her lunch to be fed to her, “Y/N’s a new healthcare assistant, she’s just going to be feeding you lunch.”

“I don’t want her,” Margot protested, “I want someone else.”

Y/N's gaze dropped, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She had been expecting this to happen at some point but she didn’t think it would happen so soon. "It's alright, Layla. I'll take over your tasks," Y/N offered quietly, not wanting to make a scene.

Layla's eyes softened with sympathy. "She's not usually like this," she whispered.

Y/N nodded, her resolve firm as she gathered her belongings to assist elsewhere. "No problem," she replied with a shrug, masking her hurt.

"C'mon, Margot," Layla urged gently, collecting the tray of hot lunch.

"I don't want a foreigner feeding me," Margot muttered sharply, her words stinging the air.

Y/N’s eyes stung as she left the room. She thought she had been lucky with her patient’s today and the majority of them had been rather lovely. They’d been interested in Y/N’s life, noticing her olive-toned complexion and black hair and asking her where she came from. The question allowed her to reminisce on her time back home and describe the foods and the environment she grew up with but it was only so long before she came across someone who didn’t care - seeing her as nothing more than a stranger in a foreign land that never quite felt like home.

Y/N took three deep breaths before stepping into the wing to cover Layla's shift for an hour. She knew she needed to shake off the hurt from the recent encounter, hoping that immersing herself in work would help ease the discomfort. 

Three other women were working on the ward when Y/N entered the room. They were sitting in the corner on plastic chairs, sharing a phone screen as some show played. One of them turned when they noticed Y/N was in the room which caused the other two to follow. 

“Hello,” Y/N spoke, timidly, “I’m here to help out Layla for a little while.” 

The women exchanged knowing glances, their expressions morphing into smirks. One of them, the apparent leader of the group, sneered as she replied, "Oh, great. About time someone else did some work around here. Layla's been slacking off all morning." 

“Really?” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, Layla had been very kind to her just moments ago. 

“Yeah,” The leader replied, her lips smacking together as she chewed on a piece of gum, “You can start by feeding those three their lunches.” She pointed her finger towards three patients lying in their beds. 

“All three?” There were only six beds in the room. 

“Is there a problem?” The woman folded her arms, the other two trying not to laugh behind her. 

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “No there is not.”

Y/N rolled up her sleeves and got to work, trying to spoon-feed all three patients as the other girls sat in the corner continuing to watch their show. Despite the mocking gaze of her co-workers, Y/N was fully determined to prove to herself that she could get through this. She needed to just put her head down and remind herself that this was for the better - the money would be worth it at the end of the month and she’d have enough to send to her family back home too. 

As Y/N sat with the last patient, one of the ladies stood up to go and tended to another one. “Janice,” She cooed, walking over to the side of the bed where an elderly woman lay asleep, “Janice wake up love,” She squeezed her hand, “Janice?”

Y/N’s head shot in their direction, her eyes falling on Janice who wouldn’t wake up. She dropped the bowl of food on the side table and rushed over, “Hello Janice? Can you hear me?” The lady asked as Y/N put her ear to her mouth to see if she was breathing. 

“She’s unconscious,” Y/N stated, “Her throat is blocked, did you feed her?”

The woman’s eyes were wide, “I-I-”

“Call the doctor,” Y/N instructed one of the other girls who immediately pressed the red button to alert the emergency services. 

“We don’t have enough time,” Y/N muttered, “Get me a tracheostomy tube.”

“We don’t have authorisation to-”

“I can do it, I’ve done it before, please.” Y/N’s adrenaline was running high but she remained calm on the surface, it was what she had been trained to do. 

The woman hurried over with a tube, and Y/N wasted no time. With steady hands, she performed a tracheostomy to create an emergency airway for Janice. Time seemed to blur as Y/N worked quickly and efficiently.

Minutes later, as Y/N finished, the doctor entered the room, taking in the scene with great concern and alertness on his face. “Where’s the emergency?” It was Doctor Styles, Y/N recognised him by his voice. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, even though the patient had been saved and was able to breathe better, it wasn’t protocol to allow Healthcare assistants to perform such an intricate procedure that could so easily go wrong. She could be in big trouble for this and it was only her first day. 

“Janice was unconscious, she was barely breathing,” One of Y/N’s co-workers explained.

Harry approached the patient, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realised what Y/N had done. "You did this?" he asked his tone a mix of astonishment and concern.

Y/N looked up, her stomach churning with dread. She could already picture the disappointment on her mother's face for potentially jeopardising her job on the first day. "I was trying to-"

"Do you realise how dangerous this procedure is?" Harry's voice cut through her explanation.

Y/N's gaze fell to the ground, her throat tightening with guilt. "Yes, I do."

"She could have died," Harry stated, his tone grave.

"I know, but I-" Y/N began, her words faltering.

"You saved her life," Harry's interruption caught Y/N off guard, her head shooting up to meet his gaze. For the first time, she saw the awe and shock reflected in his eyes.

“How did you know how to do it?” Harry asked, genuine curiosity evident in his tone.

“I learnt it during my training,” Y/N explained, her nerves still on edge.

“You just learnt it?” Harry chuckled softly, his gaze drifting to the other women in the room. "And what were you three doing when this happened?"

“W-well, we've yet to learn that procedure, Doctor Styles,” one of them spoke up, the rest nodding along in agreement.

Harry rolled his eyes, his attention returning to Y/N. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Truly remarkable,” he said, his gaze fixed on her. 

. . .

Y/N was exhausted at the end of her shift. Her bag was still packed, her lunch and snacks untouched, because she had been on her feet all day. Her skin felt sticky underneath her sweatshirt, she couldn’t wait to shower once she got back to the house. 

As she left the hospital, she inhaled the fresh air and felt the cool breeze against her flushed face.  She needed to get the tube station back to her boarding house but she was grateful to finally have a few hours away from the scent of disinfectant and rude co-workers. 

“Y/N!” Y/N spun on her heel as she heard the call of her name, turning to see Doctor Styles pacing towards her. It was the first time today she had seen him wearing glasses. 

“Doctor Styles, I thought you would be at home already,” She smiled as best as she could despite feeling much too tired to do so. 

“No, I still have a few hours to go.” He replied, that dimple and sparkle in his eye returning to his equally tired face. “I caught you walking out and left my office to come speak to you. I was really impressed by what you did today. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a healthcare assistant do that under such pressure.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N was terrible at taking compliments, even more so when she was tired.

“It was everything. You saved a woman’s life.” Harry stated. 

"Right," Y/N murmured, her mind still reeling from the events of the day and Harry's constant acknowledgement.

A brief moment of silence fell between them as Harry looked as though he was trying to speak but didn’t know how to word it properly, “Listen I…forgive me if I’m being too forward but would you maybe want to grab something to eat with me one night, maybe, I don’t know. If you want to of course, no pressure, and if you have a boyfriend that’s okay too but is it okay if you don’t tell me because that would be incredibly kind towards my pride.”

For the first time today, Y/N released a genuine laugh as he finished his rambling. “You’re not like the boys back home.” She said after she had composed herself. 

Harry frowned, “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s refreshing,” She told him, it was nice to experience something new and it be a good thing for once. “I will go out with you Harry.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips, despite his attempt to suppress it by biting his bottom lip. He rubbed his hand over his mouth in a futile effort to conceal his grin, but the crinkles around his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks betrayed his amusement. "Okay," he chuckled softly, unable to contain his delight. "That’s good."

“I have an afternoon off in three days time, is that okay?” He asked eagerly, wanting to see her as soon as possible.

“I would like that,” she says, her voice filled with anticipation. “A lot actually.”

Their gazes locked for a brief moment. “Well, I should probably get going,” Y/N said, breaking the silence.

“Yes, of course. Can I give you my number first? I can text you the details later if that’s okay,” Harry asked, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

“Oh, sure,” Y/N replied, taking out her phone, which only had her family’s numbers saved in it.

Harry quickly typed his number into Y/N's phone before handing it back to her with a warm smile. “I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I’m here tomorrow.” Harry walked backwards towards the hospital entrance, smiling and shaking his head before turning his back to her.

Y/N was in disbelief as she began her journey home. She couldn't shake the feeling of surprise that someone like Harry would want to go on a date with her. Dating wasn't even on her radar when she arrived; she had suspected that no man would find her attractive because of how she looked - she wasn’t really deemed the stereotypical female in Western society. But Harry's genuine interest had shattered those doubts. As she navigated through the bustling streets, a newfound sense of confidence began to bloom within her. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something wonderful and a new distraction from her overwhelming life. 

. . .

Harry had been eyeing the clock all morning. 

“Have somewhere to be?” Niall, his co-worker, asked, having seen him glued to the clock. 

“Something like that,” Harry mumbled. 

With just an hour left of his shift, Harry couldn't shake the anticipation of taking Y/N out for dinner tonight. She had been occupying his thoughts incessantly for the past three days. The golden hue of her skin and the soft, round features of her face had etched themselves into his mind. He found himself mesmerised by the almond shape of her eyes, their deep brown colour reminiscent of a shot of espresso in the morning. 

He loved the melodic, soft tones of her voice and the way she spoke with an accent that brought life into the usual boring words people spoke to him every day. He thought about how her cheeks would tinge pink whenever she’d start speaking, how shy she was whenever he’d praise her or how expressive her eyes were whenever she wasn’t talking. 

He was a Doctor and knew all the ways in which the mind and body worked but he was beginning to question his beliefs since he had met Y/N because he was pretty sure he had fallen in love at first sight. 

Everything about her had been on his mind and he was desperate to find out all that he possibly could about the quiet, shy healthcare assistant who saved the life of a woman on her first day. 

Interrupting the images of Y/N that had been playing in his mind, was the sound of the buzzer to the emergency department. Harry sat up at the same time as Niall who was already standing to his feet to go and see what the problem was. He sighed, hoping for time to hurry up so the evening would arrive much sooner. 

“Hey it’s me,” Harry sighed a heavy sigh into the phone as he held it against his ear, sitting in his car in the staff parking area of the hospital many hours later. His forehead was pressed against the steering wheel as tiredness and guilt laced within him.

“Hello Harry,” Y/N’s soft voice rang through the speaker, soothing a piece of him that was just so tired, “Is everything okay?”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, “You’re probably going to hate me for this but is there any chance we can reschedule? Something came up at work and I’ve only just come out.” He was five hours overtime after a family had been rushed into the emergency room after an accident. 

He swallowed as he waited for her to reply, “Oh,” She said and the small remark made him feel even more guilty than he already felt. 

“I’m sorry,” He hated himself because it was all he had been looking forward to.

“Harry,” Y/N said his name, “It’s okay. I’ve worked in enough hospitals to know these things happen. Of course, we can go at another time but are you okay?”

He released a long breath at the question, “No not really,” it was the truth and another reason why he needed to reschedule the date. He had seen some pretty tough things today and it weighed heavily on his mind. 

“Have you eaten?” Y/N asked, concern in her voice. 

His eyes stung, his head falling back against the headrest, “No I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 

Y/N sighed over the phone, “Do you live close by?”

“I live about ten minutes from the hospital,” He told her, wondering why she would ask. 

“Is it okay if I come by?” She asks, “I mean it’s okay if not.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped, “That actually sounds really nice.”

The fact that Y/N would be visiting him at his home seemed to ease the weight of the long day from Harry's shoulders. With a faint smile playing on his lips, he leaned back in his seat, feeling a hint of anticipation at the thought of her company.

When Harry got home, he saw how messy his apartment was. Feeling a sudden jolt of energy, he quickly picked up his laundry off of the floor and threw dirty dishes into the dishwasher. He took a moment to straighten up the living room and fluff the cushions on the couch. Trying to make everything look cleaner than it actually was in order to impress her. 

His buzzer rang and he quickly went to answer it, allowing her to come up as his heart raced in his chest. With one last glance around the room, he swiftly nudged something under the coffee table before reaching the door just as she knocked.

Harry felt all the tiredness from his body lift when he opened the door and found her standing there with a plastic carrier bag in her hands. She was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, her hair tied up in a ponytail and her face make-up free. 

“Hey,” He breathed, a piece of him settling when he laid eyes on her, “Thank you for coming here.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” She smiled and walked past him after he moved to the side to let her in. 

Her eyes were wide as she took in his apartment, “This is a lot better than the boarding house.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “You’re living in a boarding house?”

She nodded, “Only until I can find my own place to live. It was what the company who transferred me here offered when I applied.” 

“I see,” Harry realised he was still in his uniform except his shirt was untucked and his tie was loose around his neck. 

Y/N placed the plastic bag on the kitchen counter, “I bought some things to make you since you didn’t eat. How about I start cooking and you can get changed?” 

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “I-I hope you don’t think I invited you over to cook for me Y/N. I actually really just wanted to see you.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, “It’s okay, I enjoy cooking and maybe it’s my excuse to see you too.”

He took a step forward, “If I had known you had been waiting to find an excuse I would have invited you over much sooner.” 

She shifted under his gaze, biting her lip to stop her smile, “Go get dressed,” She ordered and Harry grinned, it was the first time he had seen her act so assertively. 

He took a thirty-minute long shower, scrubbing off the remains of the day from his skin. He wore a grey sweatshirt and sweatpants, drying his hair with a towel as he re-entered the kitchen to find Y/N already plating up the food she had made. 

The kitchen was an aroma of fragrances Harry had never smelt before. His mouth watered as Y/N spooned rice onto plates and picked up the saucepan to bring to the kitchen island. “This smells amazing,” Harry sat on one of the stools, picking up a knife and fork. 

“It’s called chicken adobo,” Y/N informs him, “It’s a traditional dish of the Philippines, my mama used to make it for me and my sister when we’d come in from school.” 

Harry listened intently, “That’s where you’re from?” 

Y/N smiled, “It’s my home.” She took Harry’s plate and spooned some of the chicken on top of the rice before doing the same for herself, “I hope you don’t mind but I use my hands to eat,” 

Harry lowered his knife and fork, “Really?”

“Mhm,” Y/N picked up some of the rice and chicken with her fingers,  “It’s called Kamayan. It’s meant to help appreciate the flavours and textures of the food we make or are served.”

Harry looked genuinely interested as Y/N ate the food pressed into her hand, “Can I try?”

Y/N paused chewing on her food, not expecting him to want to try something that in many Western cultures might be considered bad manners. She quickly swallowed it down and nodded, “Of course.” 

Harry pursed his lips as he concentrated on gathering the rice and chicken into his hands. He felt the stickiness of the rice as he pressed it with his fingers. It wasn’t as graceful as Y/N had done as he attempted to put it all into his mouth. He chewed on the chicken, his taste buds tingling at the new flavour. 

Swallowing it down his eyes brightened, “It’s delicious!”

Y/N’s eyes crinkled, “Yeah? You think so?”

“I’ve never eaten with my hands before but it feels quite liberating.” He chuckles.

Y/N laughs, “My mama always told us to eat with our hands.” 

Harry repeated the action, scooping the perfect serving into his hand and eating it, “Where did you live when you lived in the Philippines?”

“I grew up in Roxas City- it’s on one of the many islands and it’s beautiful. The beaches stretch for miles and the water is so blue and clear you can see your feet walking along the bottom.” Harry watched as Y/N explained animatedly what her home country was like. Her words brought the images to life in his mind as he pictured her walking along the beaches. 

He was happy to see her relax into conversation the more questions he asked about her home, “What made you want to come here to work?”

Y/N’s smile faltered and Harry wished he could take back the question but she answered, “My family aren’t wealthy and I always knew I would have to leave at some point to go out and make enough money to bring back for them so we could have a better life. I trained in healthcare so I could come here and work.” 

Harry's expression softened, concern evident in his eyes. "Has it been difficult?" he asked gently. He knew it might sound like a cliché question, but he genuinely wanted to make sure she was coping okay. It must be incredibly difficult having to leave everything you know for something completely different. 

“I’m so homesick,” Y/N’s eyes watered, “Every day I go back to that boarding house and count down the days until I can go home again. I-I thought I knew English before coming here but it’s so difficult to understand when people are talking so fast and expecting you to know what they’re saying.” Harry grabbed a tissue and passed it to her. She took it in her hands and gave him a watery smile, “I miss my mama and my sister and the sun. London is so grey.” 

Harry reached out a hand and gripped her fingers, squeezing them gently, “Hey, you’re doing so good Y/N.” He started, “You’re so unbelievably brave for coming here and starting this new life. I mean I couldn’t do what you’re doing - I get homesick even when my mum lives ten minutes away,” Y/N laughs and the sound sparks something inside of him, even when she was crying she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life, “You should be so proud of yourself and I know your family is proud of you too.”

Y/N’s watery eyes looked into his, “Thank you,” She whispered, “This is the first time I’ve stepped outside my house other than to get that stupid train to work.” 

“Seriously?” Harry was shocked, no wonder she was feeling so trapped and cooped up. 

Harry glanced at their two empty plates before giving her hand a tight squeeze, “C’mon,”

“What-” Y/N watched as he grabbed his jacket and car keys.

“Let me take you somewhere,” He insisted, his voice warm and inviting. 

“But it’s dark outside?” Y/N slid off her stool and followed him to the front door. 

“That’s the best time of day,” He smirked and whisked her away to his car where he drove her through the streets of London, illuminated by the lights that lit up the streets. 

He parked on the side of the road somewhere and they walked for fifteen minutes until they reached a busier area of the city where people were still out with friends, “Hopefully it’s still there,” He mumbled. 

“What are you talking about?” Y/N frowned and her head lifted to see the bright lights from billboards that surrounded the square. Perfume adverts and models appeared on the big screens as tourists posed for pictures in front of them. 

“This is Piccadilly Circus,” Harry motioned to the place they were standing in. He intertwined their fingers and led her over to stand her in front of the biggest billboard of them all, “And that is your home.” He pointed to it and the billboard switched to a picture of a beach that looked almost exactly the same as the one she had grown up near. Big, bold letters with the words ‘Visit the Philippines’ were at the bottom but Y/N couldn’t seem to stop staring at the sea that illuminated the square, casting it in blue light. 

Her eyes glistened with tears, “I know it’s not the same,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, “But-”

“It’s my home,” Y/N gasped, a grin taking over her entire face, “That’s where I’m from Harry!” 

Harry’s grin mirrored hers, “It is!” He replies with equal enthusiasm. 

“Can you take a picture of me?” She reached for her phone and passed it to him. Y/N smiled like a kid at Christmas in front of the billboard and Harry quickly snapped a picture before it switched to a different advert. 

He handed the phone back to her and she looked down unable to keep her eyes off of that blue sea she had been missing. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” She murmured and looked up to see him already gazing at her, “Thank you.”

Harry smiled bashfully, shaking his head, “I know you don’t believe it yet but I think you were meant to be here at this moment in life and I think maybe I was meant to be here too.” He admitted. 

“You really think that?” She asked.

“I believe it wholeheartedly,” He stated. 

When the billboard returned to the picture of the sea, Y/N insisted Harry stand to get a picture in front of it. He pulled a face, pointing at the billboard and the picture came out all blurry because Y/N had been laughing too much. 

Late into the night, they stayed in Piccadilly Circus taking pictures of each other and with each other as the beach appeared on the screen. Harry swore his camera roll was now just pictures of Y/N squealing with excitement whenever the image of the beach appeared. 

In the moments in between, they sat and spoke. Comparing cultures and learning more about one another. Whilst Y/N had learnt about Harry’s family and living in the English countryside as a child, Harry had learnt all about Y/N’s time in the sun and how much she adored fishing in the spring and picking mangoes off her grandpa’s mango trees. 

It wasn’t a date, it was more than that. 

It was the converging of two paths in life that had now become one. 

. . .

Mahal na mama, Dear mama. 

I got my first paycheck today and I have sent you as much as I can. I hope it’s enough to buy you some new shoes because I know you are getting tired of your old ones. 

I have been working hard and I’m slowly growing used to the way things work here. I’d be lying if I told you it was easy, it’s been so incredibly hard. So many times I have been desperate to come home, wondering whether this was where I belonged or if it just wasn’t meant to be. 

But Mama, I’ve met someone. 

Don’t be upset. I know you always told me and sissy it should always be careers before boys but he has become my home away from home mama. 

He’s a doctor at the hospital and his name is Harry.

Every day he picks me up from work even though his apartment is right by the hospital and we walk into work together. He’s not embarrassed to hold my hand or kiss me goodbye either. 

I spend a lot of days at his home because it’s a lot nicer than my boarding house. He asks me to cook him some of your recipes and he tells me to tell you that they are delicious and he hopes one day that you can cook them for him. 

He loves to listen to me speak about home and I love to hear him speak about his. 

He’s introduced me to this whole other world of culture mama and it is so beautiful. 

I love you and I miss you but I am safe and happy and I am doing well.

I am still counting down the days until I can come home and visit you but just know I am no longer homesick because of him. 

Mahal kita Mama. 

. . .

“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,”

“Ang… Pan-gaaa-”

“Pangalan,” Y/N tried not to laugh at the concentrated look on his face. 

“Pangalan,” She nods.

“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,” Harry looks at her for confirmation and she nods, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry, my name is Y/N.” She murmurs against his lips. 

She feels his lips curve against hers before he puckers them and presses kisses all over her face. She tries to pull him away but he keeps her in his grip until they collapse onto the bed. “Harryyyy,” She giggles as he presses kisses along her exposed collarbones. 

“What’s the word for kisses again?” He murmurs against her neck. 

Y/N’s hands run through his curls, pushing them back from his face. Her lips ghost against his as she murmurs, “Mga halik,” 

“Mga halik,” He repeats, his pronunciation improving. 

“Mhm,” She puckers her lips to kiss him to which he happily hums and returns her kiss. “I need to start dinner,”

“No,” He whines, holding onto her, “Stay.”

“But I’m so hungry and you need to help me with the lumpia.” She says referring to the spring roles she had taught him to make. 

“We can’t order a pizza?” He pouts, “I just want to hold you.” 

Y/N sighed but was unable to prevent herself from falling for the pouty look on his face, “Fine, we’ll get a pizza but only if we can get it with pineapple.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Criminal,” 

“But you love me?” She grins, cheekily. 

“I do,” He kisses her before grabbing his phone, “I truly do.”

Since moving to a new country and meeting Harry, Y/N's life had transformed. He had brought back the sense of familiarity she had lost when she moved across the world. In him, she found not just love, but a true home—a place where she belonged and was cherished in return.

Her work and life in general had become easier because she no longer felt so alone. Every day they’d sit together during their lunch breaks at work and go back to Harry’s apartment at the end of their shifts. 

“Hi baby,” Harry greeted her whenever she’d get into the car with him. He’d lean over the console and kiss her. 

“Hi syota,” Sweetheart. She’d say in return and despite how tired he felt, he always managed to smile at the term of endearment she’d picked for him. 

Further into their dating, Harry had been desperate to learn her language. Even though Y/N told him it didn’t matter to her - they had their own ways of communicating that only they understood, bridging the gap between words that got lost in translation - he was instant on it. 

“But when our kids learn, I’ll be left out.” It was the first time he said I love you without even saying the three words. 

As they sat in his living room, which was slowly becoming hers too, eating pizza and watching Lord of the Rings, because Harry was insistent on making Y/N watch the whole series if she wanted to truly see the beauty of Western culture, Y/N realised that maybe Harry was right and this was where she was meant to be all along. 

“I love you,” Harry murmured as he held her in his arms on the couch. 

“Mahal kita.” I love you. She replied, feeling more at home in his arms than she did anywhere else in the world. 

3 years later… 

“Are you nervous baby?” Harry whispered in her ear as they sat side by side on the plane, their fingers intertwined. She was wearing his sweater and he had one of her rings on a chain around his neck, it was the physical representation of how they had interwoven their lives had become. 

“A little,” Y/N confessed, glancing out the window to see they were nearing the island she had left three years ago. “I’m worried they won’t like this version of me.”

“Hey,” Harry cupped her cheek in his hand, “They’re your family, they’ll love every version of you the same way I do.” 

Y/N’s lips turned upwards, “You promise?” 

“I’d never lie to you my love,” He kissed the bridge of her nose. 

The plane shook as it landed on the ground. Y/N could already feel the heat of the sun before she’d even stepped off the plane, just from looking out the window. Harry grabbed her duffle bag from the overhead compartment and took his own travel case as well. 

He was wearing a shirt that said ‘But Daddy I love him’ and white shorts with sunglasses buried in his dishevelled curls. They had been flying for hours, the both of them exhausted, but Y/N couldn’t seem to calm the jitters of seeing her home again. 

Harry pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “Calm down, puso ko.” my heart. 

“Do you think she’ll be here?” Y/N was already craning her neck as they got to passport control even though it was impossible to see past the arrival gates from where they stood. 

She remembered what her mother had told her when she dropped her off to start her new life in England. 

“Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better. 

She hoped she had done just as her mother said and she would be returning to her as someone better than the person she used to be. 

Once they got through the gate, Y/N stood on her toes and tried to spot her mother in the crowds. She didn’t expect to see her right away as her mother was rather short but she hoped she’d sense her presence somewhere in the room. 

“Do you see her?” Y/N asked, Harry was also looking around to see if she was somewhere. 

“Y/N!” A warm, comforting voice that echoed in the depths of her childhood and rang through her to this day, called for her amongst the bustle of people. 

Y/N’s eyes watered, “Mama!” She called, spinning around to find her. 

“Hey look baby,” Harry pointed and that’s when Y/N saw her. Her arms open, standing in the place she promised she would be three years later. 

“Mama!” Y/N dropped Harry’s hand and ran towards her mother, enveloping herself in her arms and feeling her soft skin against her own. She felt the hands that had held her as a child, cling to the back of her shirt. 

“Ang anak ko,” My child. Her mother held her. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Y/N whispered, her eyes flooding with tears. 

Y/N pulled away, looking down at her mother and feeling a fresh flood of tears fill her eyes. A presence came up behind her, a hand on her shoulder. She put her hand on top of his and watched as her mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Mama, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

Harry cleared his throat, placing their bags on the floor, “Hello ang pangalan ko ay Harry. Ikinagagalak kitang makilala.” Hello, my name is Harry. Nice to meet you. His tone was slightly unsure as he spoke but Y/N beamed as he spoke the words to his mother, having spent the last few years teaching him. 

Her mother smiled, a tear falling from her eye. Y/N’s lips parted, having never seen her mother cry before. She took a step forward and then wrapped her arms around Harry, “Salamat sa pag-aalaga sa anak ko.” thank you for taking care of my daughter. 

Y/N covered her mouth to stop herself from sobbing in the middle of the airport. She wanted to take this moment and bottle it up as she watched her two favourite people in the entire world embrace each other. 

If there was one thing Y/N had learnt from her time away it was that home wasn’t so much of a place anymore but the people instead.

These were her people.

They were her home. 

[kayas-kosmos]

Because of what's happening on Twitter...

I've made a little diagram to demonstrate why billionaires and the ultra-wealthy are bad for society.

(Text in Image)

"If we view society as a body, every sector is like a different organ within the body that serves a function and works in harmony with other organs to maintain balance. Every part of the body is important for the whole thing to function."

"The ultra-wealthy want you to believe they are the beating heart and thinking mind of the society – they are the innovators who create our jobs and their brilliance drives society forward. They deserve to be at the top of society because they have earned that. Without them, the body won’t function because they are the most important part."

"In reality, they are more like a malignant tumour, sucking all of the blood (resources) away from everything else (people and the planet) to fuel its own infinite growth, depriving the rest of the body and slowly killing it. Workers create all of the innovation and keep things running, the ultra-wealthy take all the credit."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a public domain image so feel free to pinch it for whatever.

Elon Musk has put the careers of thousands of small business owners who depend on Twitter (myself included) in jeopardy by completely running it into the ground. Before this, Mark Zuckerberg had already been doing the same when he started pursuing Metaverse, making Instagram and Facebook much more unusable for artists. Do I really need to go into other examples of CEOs and very normalised practise of wage theft?

Meanwhile, the UK currently has the richest Prime Minister in its history. What is this man doing with this wealth? Continuing the Tory legacy of austerity in order to line his pockets and the pockets of his crony friends. This has resulted in a devastating cost of living crisis that continues to ravage the country as people's energy bills skyrocket out of control.

My diagram is pretty basic and lacks nuance, there's definitely more I could elaborate on with this comparison but I really don't have time. I just want people to get the basic point of how billionaires view themselves vs what function they actually serve. I'm also not here to debate whether some organs are more important than others since I'm not a doctor, that's not really the point here. And no, I don't care if people think I'm being harsh by comparing billionaires to a tumour. If they don't want to be compared to one they should stop acting like one. Jeff Bezos could end world hunger right now and chooses not to.

Also, I know a lot of people are going to come at me with the argument that billionaires give away massive amounts of money. First off, people like Jeff Bezos only give large sums of money to charity a.) for the sake of improving their public image and b.) because giving to charity allows them to write it off in their taxes. Also, charities in of themselves have a lot of problems, but that's a blog post for another day. Mutual Aid is a better way to help people directly. Really, the ultra wealthy need to be taxed, of course they do everything within their power to avoid taxes.

Also:

"Earning a lot of money" and "holding onto a lot of money" are two different things. You cannot be a multi-millionaire unless you hold onto that money. If you give away massive chunks of it to enrich society, you cease to be a billionaire.

Oh and this is worth a watch, too.

Furthermore:

Also before the inevitable great man comments:

Being a billionaire is a moral failing. Nobody needs that much money.

[Slight edit here - I made the assertion that a billionaire could not spend all of their money in their lifetime, but as someone in the comments pointed out it's very easy for them to completely waste billions in no time. Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg have shown that].

Anyway, if you would like to see more anti-Capitalist art from me, I am currently working on a webcomic called "Flowerpunk" - a story about a group of anarchists who are trying to save the city of Wyrdon from a supernatural plague known as "the rot." The comic heavily discusses disaster Capitalism and how the rich will use mass death and destruction as an opportunity to further line their pockets.

I also like to do little anti-Capitalist doodles relating to this project, which I plan to make into posters at some point.

Please consider donating a Ko-Fi also if you would like to help support this project. I am really struggling at the moment because I've basically lost a massive chunk of my client base due to this Twitter implosion and also because of the AI BS that has made it impossible for me to get any reach nowadays. The last year or so has been an absolute nightmare for my career because of all of this.

Thank you all for your continued support! Hopefully I can re-establish my audience here on Tumblr and wherever else I decide to go.

[macsimagines]

Could I ask for Kisaki, Rindou, and Draken with partners that are insecure? Like they truly believe that their boyfriend/husband could do so much better than them

I've done this one already for Kisaki and Draken here but I can def do one for Rindou!! this is kind of like a part two to my EX! Ran Haitani headcanon set!! also idk why text colors are being weird i'll try to fix it later on

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI,

Yandere!Rindou Haitani

He loves you, adores you even. You're so soft and kind compared to his hard and mean. Rindou has always taken pride in being who he is. He's a Haitani brother, feared allover Tokyo and a ruler in charge of Roppongi.

But for you? Just you- He's Rin. Your loving boyfriend that is never too busy to spend time with you and never lacking in affection. He'll hold your hand gladly or throw a reassuring arm over your shoulder.

All the love in the world can't stop the thoughts in your head though. He's so much more than you'll ever be. You've seen him in action and his strength and overwhelming capabilities compared to your...to your anything just made you feel so dull in comparison.

Rin is beautiful, he catches the eye of every woman you walk past on the street. Rin is strong, he can beat men without breaking a sweat. Rin is powerful, he has people that flock to him at his beck and call and you are nothing.

"I just... I just think I'm holding you back," you tell him, over the phone because you're too much of coward to say it to his face, "I want... I want what's best for you-!" "What the fuck are you talkin' about, you're what's best for me! Baby-please-!" "I can't! I'm not enough, I'm sorry Rin."

And you hang up the phone, block his number. Its better this way, you're sure by this time next week he'll have moved onto someone else, someone better that could keep up with someone as amazing as him.

But then something unexpected happens. His brother comes looking for you. Rin warned you about him once, said that after a bad breakup with his girlfriend he hadn't been the same.

"I thought they got back together though?" you had asked him confused after he had told you. He never answered you back, just got this weird look on his face before giving you a warning; "Try not to get too close. And try not to piss him off."

Yet here he was, at your doorstep staring you down like you were the scum of the earth. Apparently you hadn't heeded the warning.

"Havin' fun?" he asks, not even blinking while he towers over you, and your voice is caught in your throat, too scared to even make a sound at the older Haitani. "Cause I'm sure fuckin' not."

And suddenly he's grabbing you by the hair so tight you're scared he's going to rip it from your skull, but no, he's dragging you out the door and down the steps of your apartment ignoring your cries and screams for help.

Muttering something the whole way to his car. Something like "...You bitches and the games you like to play. Fuck with our heads, you and my girl always got make fuckin' problems for us-"

Then he's shoving you into the passenger seat making sure you can't get out. One moment you feel like you've found your voice again and then the next it leaves you because Ran has a gun pointed right at you only seconds later.

"Your gonna fix this you ungrateful bitch," he spits, eyes so full of hate it makes you want to curl in on yourself, "Put my baby brother back together and act like you like it. Like you fuckin' love it. Or I'll kill you my damn self and make you regret makin' a fool out of the Haitanis. Do you understand, Y/N?"

You're not sure if you say yes or if you even or in affirmation before he's pulling out of the parking lot and speeding dangeroulsy to some unknown destination.

And you are crying, silently shaking and sobbing because you're so scared of what he's going to do and he's still holding the gun right at your head, muttering to himself yet again.

"I'll make it right- I'll fix him and he'll be ok- fuckin' women making us loose our goddamn minds-,"

Finally you pull into a warehouse, abandoned by the looks of it and new found fear arises in you- Is this where Ran is going to kill you? But no.... This is where Rin is.

You see him first, his eyes are dark and he looks so tired from his usual self, and his expression is so empty, so emotionless that you're worried for a split second but then you see...the man. At least that's what he used to be.

His face is beaten in, and his body is contorted in such a mangled way you're sure his limbs had been broken, and Rin is on top of him. Pummeling away at the already red and mangled face.

You can't help the small gasp that leaves you and you probably would've ran out there screaming had Ran not been holding you by the neck.

But your scream was enough to alert the younger Haitani, and he turns to look at you with eyes wild like an animals. "Y-Y/N?" he whispers standing on shaking legs, "B-baby is that you?"

It didn't matter how hard you tried you couldn't make out a single sound, too shocked by the scenes unfolding around you. Thankfully, Ran wasn't short on words....

"Ya, I brought Y/N here 'cause she has somethin' to say," Ran shoves you forward, making sure that the gun at his side is always within your view. A silent reminder of what he made you promise...

Rin doesn't let you get any words our before he's embracing you with bloodied hands, smearing another persons bodily fluid all over you... "Oh baby, please tell me you're back, please? Its been hell, I can't do this without you, I'm loosin' my fuckin' mind."

Its like your brain suddenly catches up with you. You have to say yes or else... "I-I'm back," you nod, hugging him back with shaking hands, "I'm... I'm sorry Rin."

And suddenly he's sobbing, pulling you away only so he could hold your face in his bloody hands to look into your eyes, "How could you do this to me, I love you so much,"

Ran once again, speaks. "You need to keep her in line," he tells his younger brother, much to your dismay, "Like I keep my girl. Don't worry. I'll teach you."

You could never leave Rin Haitani. Shame on you for even trying.

[anzulvr]

Hii!! Can you do karma with a s/o that's rly quiet but ends up being good with kids??

Karma x Reader whose Good with kids // fluff GN! Reader

This all begins when E class gets themselves into deep trouble. Attempting to train on rooftops while studying for midterms, what they thought was a genius idea doesn't go as planned. Okajima and Kimura jump down and fall on top of an elderly man riding his bike. The old man is hospitalized for a broken foot. He ends up being the caretaker of multiple kids at a daycare he runs, Karasuma goes to talk to the man on behalf of his students-apologizing with flowers and all.

Korosensei orders the entire class to volunteer at the daycare and take the elderly man's place while he rests his leg to teach everyone about helping those who are weaker and those they’ve wronged.

Okay yeah, Korosensei was pissed- Karasuma just spent 20 minutes bargaining and apologizing to the rightfully angered old man and the class was filled with regret, shame and dread for the hard work that was coming. You on the other hand were secretly hyped! You loved taking care of kids, their cute little faces never failed to give you baby fever.

Even though you and Karma werent personally involved in the training scheme you still had to participate as it was a class effort.

The days of volunteering roll around and each day progress is made.

Everyone has a job to do, Some of your classmates are helping the kids study others are in charge of nap time and many are cleaning the space and fixing the building up.

You look over to a group of kids entranced with a theater show Karma, Terasaka and Okuda are putting on for them.

You catch yourself staring at Karma for too long, and bring your focus back towards your job;

You’re in charge of looking after the kids when they’re doing activities, (everything is in rotations for smaller groups)

Your current group is painting and drawing to their hearts content.

You notice one of the kids, Jiro, seems really upset, His eyes are getting watery. You crouch down to his level and ask him what’s wrong.

“My drawing— looks bad, I can’t draw good!” He speaks through the hiccups that slice his sentences up, now the tears are flowing down his cheeks completely.

“Don’t say that… You’re so talented Jiro, I want one of your drawings for myself!”

You ruffle his hair and he starts laughing through his tears, “You’re not lying?”

“Of course not, you’re drawings are my favorite thing ever!”

“Really?! I can draw one for you to take home!”

“The great artist Jiro will make me a drawing? Thank you Jiro you’re the best!”

Jiro rushes back to his seat with a smile on his face ready to start a new drawing as a present for you.

Michi raises her hand, "[Name] look!! I drew you!"

"Awe! I love it thank you Michi, you’re so sweet!"

She nods as she points to the second stick figure on her paper, "Look! I drew Karma because he's your best friend right?"

"Yeah he is-" You're cut off, startled by someone’s voice you turn to look and there he is.

"I'm just your best friend?" He feigns disappointment, you laugh and shove his shoulder gently.

You point at her drawing and back at him as a show of comparison "That looks just like him- you're so attentive to detail Michi!"

"I don't know what that means but thanks!" She skips back to her seat overjoyed with the praise.

Karma turns back to face you,

"Who knew you were this good with kids, it hasn't even been a full week and you're already their favorite- after me, they love me more."

You smile "You wish! Honestly I'm not surprised you're good with them, you have a fun personality, but anyway how'd the play go?"

"It went great, they're Kayanos problem now. I’ve been wanting to come over to you- just couldn’t.”

“I know, I can’t believe we’re on opposite sides of the room!”

“Can’t believe you’re still alive, clingy.”

“Shut up I caught you glancing at me every few minutes. You should focus more on your performance.”

“Hey my point still stands, if you caught me it means you were looking too!”

“I wanted to see how the story played out.”

“Righttt, rate my acting on a scale from 1 to Karma.”

“I’d give you a 9, just cause the outfit was cute.”

“Not bad, where’d the last point go?”

“You’re acting sucked-” you pressed your lip in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to come out.

He scoffed putting his arm around you, “You should do it with me! Tomorrow were doing sleeping beauty, all you have to do is sleep while I smack Terasaka with a plastic sword.”

“Sounds like fun, but I wanna see Terasaka getting hit— can’t do that with my eyes closed.”

“If you do it I’ll ask someone to film it so you can watch later, and more importantly I get to wake you up with a forehead kiss.”

“Alright then, the video convinced me.”

“You sure it wasn’t the kiss?”

“Maybe a little.”

A child’s shout brings your attention back onto your job “[NAMEE]! Michi spilled paint on me!”

Michi stands up “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!”

Restful moments with Karma couldn’t last forever but even the noisy ones you appreciated wholeheartedly, now you’d clean up the colorful mess together.

note: sorry for any errors in the writing pls correct me if you catch any <3! sorry this is late still have many rq to go through!

[nadvs]

ik your list is already overflowing w ideas but the pillowtalk blurb rlly made me think of a toxic relationship fic w rafe (not the fetishizing purely fucking kind but moreso an exploration of how it's like being in love w someone as self-destructive as rafe fshfjsh) i just know u would rlly nail it !!!

no pressure tho ik ur working on a lot of wips (AND UR DOING AMAZING !!!) just needed to get this idea out there hahahahha

၊၊||၊၊||၊၊ open arms / sza

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

i know all this is bad, but who needs self esteem anyway?

At a certain point, it doesn’t even feel like Rafe is breaking your heart; you’re the one doing it to yourself when you expect every explosion of his to be the last.

He never lays a hand on you, but he starts fights out of no where, spiralling into indignation and hostility. If anything, he’s more destructive to himself than he is to your relationship.

He’s spiteful when he’s upset. You know him well enough to recognize he’s not really mad at you most of the time. When he feels like he’s losing his mind, you’re an anchor, calm and kind and gracious, encouraging him to talk about what’s really upsetting him.

When things turn vicious, you don’t always give him the satisfaction of fighting back. The glimpses of his gentle soul are what keep you around. He’s breaks, but you put him back together.

spent your whole life being hopeless, choking on insecurity

You know it’s not all his fault. When Rafe first opened up to you about how his father has dismissed him and told him to man up all his life, anger bubbles inside of you. It’s not fair.

Deep down, Rafe is a sweet boy, and your mind constantly wanders down the path of who he’d be if he was loved growing up. The potential of what he could have been is what’s most painful of all.

He self-sabotages. You can tell. When he’s mean, hurling accusations at you that you don’t even care about him, you can see past it enough to realize he’s trying to ruin his own happiness.

At the end of every conflict, he crumbles into tears, nervously chewing on his thumbnail, trembling, whimpering about not wanting to lose you.

you my favorite color, now you seeing every shade of me / locked in for life, on god, no replacing me

Rafe can’t imagine a world without you.

He’s hard to love. He knows he is. When he acts unreasonably - getting mad over something and fighting with you even when you had nothing to do with it, giving into his anxious thoughts that you’re cheating on him, trying to control you or boss you around - it’s like he’s witnessing himself do it. It’s a horror movie when he watches himself losing it.

You know you can leave. As they say, women are not rehabilitation centres for badly raised men. But it’s work you want to do, because when he lets out his tender side, showering you in hugs and kisses and compliments, smiling so lovingly and brightly in a way that makes the bad times seem like nothing in comparison, you know it’s worth it.

Every time you guide him out of the dark, understanding him better than he understands himself, he thinks about how lost he would be without you. You see it all, every ugly side of him, and you stay. And he would pray to whoever’s listening that you stay forever.

[redactedrem]

You know what? Fuck you. *Ponifies Batman*

Guys I'm so excited to share my newest project of ponifying the Batfam, it started out small with the hypothetical "I wonder what Batman would be like in a mlp universe." And then the project kept getting bigger and bigger.

If anyones interested in my world building/ headcanons surrounding this project, you can see it under the cut. (I didn't want to make the post too long.)

Incase anybody couldn't read my bad handwriting, I gotchuuu.

-(First pic) Bruce Wayne: Bruce had got his cutiemark the night of his parents death, after the grief had broken his spirit and he realized that he never wanted anypony else to feel the same pain as he does. (He has a fake cutiemark to cover up his obvious destiny)

- The first pic is pretty self explanatory, but I want to make it clear that Bruce's destiny isn't "My parents are dead so now I dress up as a bat and beat up mentally ill folk". Because I've seen people on here give hot takes on cutiemarks that directly link them to a ponies destiny.

This goes for specifically in the mlp fandom but (for the sake of being on topic) I'll use the the example of that one post where someone gave the hot take that Jason would get his cutiemark in the warehouse right before he dies (or after he dies? smthing like that) because "It would be really fucked up to know that you were always destined to die." And listen, I can appreciate some good Jason Todd whump as the next guy but knowing that this would be based in a mlp universe . . . just doesn't sit right with me.

It sounds less magical that way. Its like saying that Rainbow Dash was always meant to be the fastest flyer, so theres no point in trying to compete with her. So uhm, trying to stay on topic here. My personal hot take is that a pony's cutiemark is symbol of something that they do/ a skill or talent that they have that makes them happy. And whats a more magical and fulfilling destiny than doing something that makes you happy for the rest of your life?

Looping back to Bruce, he didn't get his cutiemark the moment his parents died, but I like to think that he got it sometime later on in the night. After hours of being checked on by the police, getting looked at by the paramedics, and after Alfred took him home. Its 1:40ish in the morning and tiny foal-Bruce is just staring at his bedroom wall feeling numb and dissociated to hell. And sometime after processing everything that night- he just decides that this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him and that he will do anything to make sure that nopony will ever feel the same pain that he has felt. And then-- Ta da!! Cutiemark!! Too bad neither he or Alfred got to experience the excitement when they both saw it the next day :')

(Edit: I didn't know where to put this detail, but Bruce's fake cutiemark is based off of the "Make It Wayne" TV logo from this fanfic here )

-(Second pic) The Bat: This is heavily inspired by Flutterbat, I know theres canonically already a race of bat ponies made from Lunas stunt as Nightmare Moon. But I chose to go through with the Flutterbat route because batponies are a race, and have bat-like features 24/7. In comparison Fluttershy maintains her pegasus appearance by day and transforms into Flutterbat at night (ALSO with there being implications that there are "Triggers" for her transformations in the day too!!) Which adds the "Vampire." right in front of her batpony title.

I might do a lil comparison chart between vampire batponies and regular batponies in the future or something. But for now I'm focusing on my batpony Bruce Wayne headcanons so yea. My point is that I felt like making Bruce a "vampire" batpony would give him a more solid secret identity with also the bonus of a really metal origin story.

Now we all know that the canonical origin story of batman is that a few months after the tragedy of his parents death, Bruce had fallen into a cave? a well? a pit? of bats and triggered a fear of bats since then. Later on he decides to become Batman so he can invoke the fear of bats he once had into the criminals of Gotham. Yadda yadda yadda.

Now canonically, we don't know the exact science on how Fluttershy turned into Flutterbat. What we do know is that at the time, pony magic is not researched enough for Twilight to be aware that Fluttershys "Stare" is her own form of pony magic and that it would interfere with Twilights spell.

Do you see where I'm getting at here? Uhmm don't ask me what exactly happened in the cave, I'm doing this for fun and thinking about it too hard makes me spiral. But uhmm something something- Bruce looked at a bat in the eye and decided to embrace his biggest fear to fuel his cause, and his already traumatized and fucked up pony magic had transformed his body- something something. (Edit: I didn't think about this until now but maybe Fluttershys "Stare" and Bruces "Bat Glare" could be a usage of the same form of magic? Just a thought)

I'll probably come up with a more suitable explanation in the future, but like I said. All of this is just for fun.

[giac222]

I’m an Ashley Graves lover and defender till the end 🤞🏻🩷.

This is going to be a deep dive and a pretty long post, just a heads up! There’s a point in the beginning where I briefly discuss something else regarding TCOAAL because I felt that it ties in, but this post will mostly be focusing on Ashley + her experiences, and a little about how Andrew isn’t actually a doormat, not even close. 😶

Let’s get into it:

I adore her and I have the biggest soft spot for her, my empathy for her is through the damn roof. She’s a product of her environment, she wasn’t born the way she is (Andrew wasn’t either). It’s frustrating to see people claim she was born evil. I’d go as far to argue that she isn’t completely evil either. Her soul is the color of pitch black according to the demon in the game. But why is that? What caused it? The reason for this is because of how she’s been treated by everyone else around her throughout her whole life. It’s not like she asked or wanted to become a “tar soul”. Her environment made her sour, it made her hate people.. including herself.

After Ashley sacrifices the warden to the demon, when she’s thinking to herself, a text box comes up that says “You decide not to linger on the fact that your soul is apparently a vicious, pitch-black mess.” and after that we see another one that says “Guess you already knew that”.

I was thinking to myself, why the hell am I so attached to this character? Lmao. Why do I have such a huge soft spot for her? Then when I was thinking about it I realized it’s because I relate to some of what she’s been through. Especially her terribly low self-esteem that causes her to feel unlovable, ooo that hit home for me. For quite some time I dealt with that, and let me tell you, it truly is an awful feeling. It can make you very mean and bitter. It quite literally eats away at you. I’m 22 now and I’m able to reflect on those past experiences, that’s when I realized how bad it really was. When it comes to someone having poor self-esteem and not much self worth, it stems from somewhere. People don’t just randomly start hating themselves, there’s something that causes it to happen. It could be from a variety of things such as trauma, childhood experiences, comparison to others, and discrimination.

It truly sucks to see how many people online that seem to hate her (not on Tumblr, but almost everywhere else). Her backstory breaks my heart, it’s tragic, and it seems that people completely ignore what she’s gone through and what she STILL goes through.

I also hate that the game has kind of, in a way, become a meme due to the controversy. This game delves into very serious and depressing topics, so for losers online with 0 media literacy to water it down to “the incest game” is sooo agitating. This is just a personal opinion of mine, but I also feel as though the controversy made people play the game for the wrong reasons. Including a lot of “edgy” teenagers 😬. I don’t think I need to elaborate on that, I’ve touched on it before in a different post. I mean the amount of loud and wrong takes I’ve seen about the game… All I can do is shake my head 💀.

So, I’ll share my (maybe?) controversial opinion that some of the “fanbase” is part of the problem too, not just the people who hate the game that don’t even know what’s going on. I’ve talked about this before so I’ll keep it brief, but I feel it fits in the post so I’m including it. But on the game’s subreddit there are people who will reduce the game itself to fap material, and it doesn’t make sense to me because there’s quite literally nothing overly sexual or explicit in the game?? Even in the questionable route vision we don’t see anything explicit, we just know what happens. I’m like have y’all forgotten that this is a PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR game?? How some of these people managed to reduce Nemlei’s work that she clearly put a lot of thought and effort into that covers dark topics and serious issues to fap material is beyond me…. What a way… just what a way. Let’s hope they get weeded out of the fandom before ch. 3 drops 🙏🏻.

Just to clarify so no one gets confused, I’m NOT referring to people who create NSFW art/posts of the game, like duh you guys know I love Ashley and Andrew 🤭🤭. I know what I’m about! 😂. Seriously though, I’m referring to people in the Reddit community who will quite literally just take people’s NSFW art (any fan art in general really) and upload it there without the artist’s consent (edit: I think if they give credit it’s not a big deal, and some artists may not care regardless. Some probably care, some don’t). It just seems like the NSFW stuff is the only thing a lot of them care about, and the shit they say is so unhinged at times I’m like???? Seek help. (Obviously it isn’t all of the members, but it’s definitely a lot speaking from my personal experience there before I left). In a way, I can’t blame outsiders for side eyeing the fanbase if that’s their first impression.

Between the amount of haters TCOAAL has and some of the questionable “fans”…. Yeah, we’re in the trenches 😂. That’s part of the reason why I left the server and now only participate in the Tumblr community. Not even trying to gate-keep or sound like an asshole, but a lot of the Reddit community doesn’t fit the game. I said what I said! As I’ve said before in a previous post, most of the trash takes I’ve seen on the game stem from there, and YouTube too. 😬

TCOAAL is a game that requires you to think and dig deeper, that’s why I love it. It touches on very heavy topics. Tbh it’s not something you can simply take at face value, that just defeats the purpose.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about Ashley! 🩷✨

When you pay attention to all the details and look deeper into Ashley’s character, you see that Ashley has quite literally been treated like shit her entire life by EVERYONE around her except for Andrew. That’s why it’s so easy for her to treat people as disposable, because that’s how SHE was treated her entire life 💔.

This scene specifically proves that:

Andrew really is everything to her. That boy is her sun, her moon, and all of her stars. 🥲💚. We see that he’s her main, and basically only source of happiness. He’s the only thing/person she cares about. I find it genuinely heartbreaking that he has been the only person Ashley could depend on throughout her life. Due to this, it makes sense as to why Ashley goes to such extreme measures to keep him around. if she lost him, she’d have no one else. So of course she’s scared that he’ll leave her. Even though we know he’ll stick by her side no matter what, Ashley does not. She’s quite literally the love of his life but she doesn’t know that. 😩

Then again, Andrew doesn’t show it, so of course she doesn’t get it. He’s never said I love you back to her, the closest we get to that is when he says “I like you… but you’re so exhausting” after their huge fight. If you look closely at his face in that scene, you’ll see gray blush lines on his cheek. Ashley has been abandoned by everyone except for Andrew, she needs validation and reassurance from him to know that he’s there to stay. He doesn’t really give that to her though, but he needs to STAT! As I said, we know he’s in it for the long haul, but Ashley does not.

You see, Ashley operates under the idea that Andrew doesn’t actually care about her. She believes that he couldn’t love her of his own will and that she has to manipulate in order for him to stay. I hold the opinion that she doesn’t do those things because she necessarily wants to, she does it because she feels like she has to in order to keep him around. She manipulates, but she isn’t very good at it 🫣.

Thinking about their huge fight in apartment 302 after Andrew killed that lady (she definitely did not attack him first, but we’ll get into that in a minute). When Andrew’s choking Ashley she brings up the fact that she’s the only one who can make his nightmares go away, but guess what we see in ch. 2? Before going to snoop on the cultist, if you go back to their motel room and you interact with the bed. A text box pops up that says “oh yeah, you tooootally have nightmares as often as you claim.”.. So, we now know that Andrew doesn’t actually have that many nightmares, he uses it as an excuse because he wants to sleep next to Ashley and be close to her.

Back to the apartment 302 incident, when Ashley goes back to that apartment after completing the ritual, she sees that Andrew killed the lady that lived there, he claims she attempted to attack him with the nail gun, but the nail gun was in the same damn spot! People should’ve started side eyeing him at that point in the game. I know I did LOL, “doormat extraordinaire” my ass 😂. Btw, there are people who genuinely believe he tried to sleep with the lady in 302, but she wouldn’t do it so he killed her….. 🤦🏻‍♀️. I wish I was joking.

Anyway, in Andrew’s dream when we go over the justified deaths, with the lady in 302, the first reason he mentions is “Ashley would have wanted to kill this one anyway” then he brings up no witnesses. To me, the fact that the first reason he mentions is Ashley wanting to kill her anyway showed that he killed her for Ashley more than anything. I mean, It did make Ashley happy that she died. He didn’t say anything about getting attacked, although it was obvious that was a lie already lmao. I believe that’s why he got so frustrated, which led to him getting pissed off after Ashley started accusing him of trying to sleep with that woman. Especially because once she started, it escalated quickly and she just kept going.. He was like “girl??? I literally killed this woman for YOU.” I could be wrong, but that was my interpretation on the situation.

Another interesting thing I thought about was how during their argument, Andrew tells Ashley to butt out of his love life, and that she always makes up some bullshit crisis for him to leave/stay when he’s out or about to leave to go meet up with someone. But in the flashback with Julia during his dream, while she’s raising genuine concern and mentions that it could be good for Ashley to learn some independence for her own sake. Also for Andrew to stop cutting things short on her, for the sake of their relationship, and so they can spend more time together. Andrew responds to that with “If your sister needed something, wouldn’t you go?” 👀. Andrew likes Ashley being dependent on him, he doesn’t want her to become independent. During their heated argument he admits to knowing her so called crisis she has before he leaves is “bullshit”. Yet he still chooses to leave to be with her anyway. Because again, Ashley’s the love of his life, people can deny it all they want but the proof is right there lmao. Not to mention he looked so sad hugging Julia until he asked her to tie her hair up… I see right through you Andrew 😂.

Also, him bringing up Nina’s death (Julia’s best friend) and lying to Julia’s face about it like he had no part in it, that was actually scary not going to lie 🫢. Plus him lying about Nina’s death affecting Ashley…like you know damn well. After their huge fight, Ashley said she was glad that Nina choked, which Andrew responded with “I know you are”.

That’s the thing about Andrew, he’s very good at lying and we see multiple examples of this in the game. When they were at their parents house Ashley decided to stay quiet because she couldn’t keep up with Andrew’s lies. In a different post of mine I talked about how “Andy” was a facade, but Ashley doesn’t understand that yet. She thinks he’s changing for the worst, but in reality he’s always been that way. His true colors are just now finally coming out.

Andrew and Ashley both had a shitty upbringing. I mean Mrs.Graves made Andrew take care of Ashley when he was a child, and I remember in a flashback he asked Ashley if she wanted to go with him because their mom gave him money for groceries, like ma’am why are you making your child go out to buy groceries??? Also, at the end of the day, she sold them both to organ harvesters. However, Andrew was treated somewhat better than Ashley during their childhood. We see this through the plushies in the puzzle before the questionable route vision, if you set Ashley’s plushie down at the table she immediately falls off. At their parents new home during dinner, Ashley sat on a mini ladder while everyone else had a chair, and simply the fact that Mrs.Graves gave Andrew their new house address, but didn’t give it to Ashley. They always shut Ashley out, they never cared about her nor did they try.

Now, let’s talk about one of, in my opinion, the saddest parts of the game. The flashback of Leyley’s birthday 🥲.

We see that neither her parents nor her friends cared about her birthday, they didn’t even try. She looked so sad talking about her friends here 😭. The fact that she brought up how her friends are always busy when she asks them for something shows that this is a recurring thing, her friends suck. I am in tearsss. I’m sick rn, she deserves everything and more. Andrew attempted to make her birthday special for her at least 🥺.

Also, I know Julia seems sweet from what we’ve seen, but I’m suspicious of her tbh 👀. We know Ashley hung out around her and Nina. I remember seeing one of the screenshots from a progress report where Andrew asks them if they could invite Ashley to sit with them sometime at lunch, so I’m assuming that’s how their “friendship” started.

Nina had a crush on Andrew, and Julia ended up dating him later on. I think it’s possible they only hung out with her just to get closer to Andrew. Julia wasn’t a very good friend to Ashley it seems, so it makes sense that she wouldn’t be thrilled about them dating. Especially because Andrew is the most important, well, really the only important person to her.

Something else to think about when it comes to people in Ashley’s life outside of Andrew: After Andrew killed the warden to protect Ashley and before they left their neighbors apartment, Ashley tells Andrew “I don’t give a rat’s ass about mom or dad. Or any of my so-called friends anymore.” and “Not one of them felt it necessary to answer my calls…”. When she says this she looks very upset. So, even in present time, Ashley still gets treated like shit by everyone around her except for Andrew, this has been an ongoing thing since her childhood.

Next up is this scene with Mrs.Graves while setting up the ritual:

This was after Ashley says “Lookie ma! I drew a circle!”. Mrs.Graves immediately starts putting her down. Ashley’s response to what her mom said shows me that this is something that commonly happened. I’m sure there were many times in Ashley’s life where she’d attempt to impress her mom and receive praise, but would immediately get shut down by her instead. The more I think about how terribly Ashley was really treated, the more sad I get about it, what the fuck 😭.

Ok, last thing to dissect. I wanted to talk about this comment from a YouTube video that came up under the “all” section on there. Beware, it might make you lose braincells. 💀

“Ashley is heavily sexualized” let me stop you right there ✋🏻 lmao. No she is not. At least to me she isn’t, I never got the impression that the game sexualized her. A lot of male players sexualize her (because of course they do 🙄), but the game? I disagree. You could say Ashley views herself as a sex object, but that doesn’t mean she’s sexualized by the game. She views herself that way because of her low self-esteem and the fact that she doesn’t believe someone could genuinely love her. Not to mention her internalized misogyny. Source? I’m speaking from experience. Having terribly low self-esteem really does drive you to dark places. It can lead to you basing your self-worth on people finding you sexually attractive or just attractive in general, like your self worth is based on your looks alone. That’s how you get validation even if it’s from a not so good place. It wears off pretty fast though, and it leaves a poor after taste. It’s only a temporary “good” feeling. If you don’t like yourself, no amount of attention will be ever good enough for you or truly make you feel better.

“Goth-esque fetish ware”, first of all it’s “wear”, and the “fetish wear” in question is just shorts, a black shirt, and a choker 💀. I cannot lmfao. Does that mean Andrew has “goth-esque fetish wear” too? Bc him and Ashley literally dress the same 😂. Not that this matters, but Ashley and Andrew are more emo to me lmao.

“She’s definitely a manipulative psychopath”… opinion immediately discarded because of this part of the comment alone.

“Her heavily sexualized existence”…. Don’t piss me off 🙄 like??? I can’t believe they said that. People with a brain larger than the size of an atom know that Ashley’s entire existence isn’t sexualized, I’d argue that it’s quite literally the opposite. It’s almost like they want Ashley to be this seductive sex kitten, but she just isn’t that. They project that onto her. I feel like some people think that Ashley simply existing with a bigger bust means she’s automatically sexualized, some men feel this way about women with bigger busts in real life too, so them doing it to a fictional character doesn’t shock me. Worms for brains I swear.

The comment Ashley makes about her “big fat tits” in the motel room during her mini argument with Andrew was literally so unserious. There’s the scene where Andrew was lying on the couch in their parents house when Ashley wakes him up out of his dream, and we see him looking at her boobs from his POV. However, that was literally so mild, you hardly even saw anything lmfao. I feel like Nemlei added that in to show that Andrew’s sexually attracted to her, plus it was a little before the scene where Ashley playfully bites him, and (in my opinion) where they almost fully crossed the line (because of Andrew mind you) before their mom came in. We all saw that pillow placement 😂. There are other signs of him being attracted to her before that as well, like when we see him push the thought of hugging her to the back of his mind “where it may fester with all the thoughts he wish he never had” + that scene in the kitchen where he was sort of touching her butt and had his fingers through her belt loop, but when their mom came in he jerked away and looked as if he got caught.

People will claim that Ashley is the only one that’s incestuous and that she “forced” it onto Andrew, but in ch. 2, we see that Andrew is arguably more incestuous than she is. Ashley loves Andrew to death, but she isn’t exactly horny for him the same way he’s horny for her. Think about their reactions to the questionable route vision. Ashley was pretty chill about it, while Andrew was beat red and embarrassed because his repressed inner thoughts just got exposed. The demon clocked his tea 😂.

I’ve spoken about this before so I’ll keep it brief, when it comes to sex Ashley doesn’t care much about it and views it as transactional, as something she can use for personal gain. As I kind of said already, to me, her viewing herself as a sex object and having that view on sex in general ties into the fact that she has internalized misogyny and her personal belief that she’s unlovable. So, not only does she view herself as a sex object, but you could say that she also views other women as sex objects too.

This is my personal opinion which I’ve shared before, but when her and Andrew fully cross the line (because they’re definitely going to) and he finally shows her that he loves her as well, I think her views on sex may change a bit. That she’ll start seeing it as something out of love that they can both enjoy. As something they can experience together, instead of her ignoring her own desires and being his personal sex object to use to attempt to keep him around.

Do I think that Ashley isn’t horny for him at all? Tbh no. I mean she literally says she assumed it would happen between them eventually anyway, so she’s definitely thought about it before. However, it’s nowhere near Andrew’s level lmao. We know Ashley is a virgin and honestly, I think Andrew is the only one she’d happily lose it to. If she were to sleep with anyone else, I doubt she’d enjoy it and would only use it as personal gain for something. As of right now, she views sex as a way of keeping Andrew around, however, I feel this is because of the fact that she doesn’t actually think he loves her and will stay with her on his own. She loves Andrew and wants to be with him, she wants him to reciprocate her love. As I like to say, Andrew’s her boo 😂, that girl doesn’t want anyone else.

Alright, let’s finish dissecting that goofy YouTube comment.

“practically puts the usually male players protective instincts into overdrive.” I don’t know wtf this means lmao, but it made me cringe. Some men need to be banned from speaking on Ashley until we figure out what’s going on 😂. Bc every time they speak on her I lose braincells. “Protective instincts” yet they quite literally don’t understand anything about her character or her struggles 💀. Maybe sit this one out lmao.

Not to sound like a broken record, but a big part of Ashley’s character is that she has very low self-worth and that she doesn’t believe people, more specifically Andrew, could actually love her (💔). I mean think about how she’s been treated for her whole life, it makes sense as to why she developed those feelings about herself and others. Her mindset is “well people never cared about me, so why would I care about them?”. Having people regularly treat you like shit takes a toll on your self-esteem and impacts your world view. Especially if it happens in your childhood.

Ashley quite literally loves Andrew more than she loves herself. I want better for her :’( and she deserves better too. I don’t care about the Ashley haters opinions. There are people who believe that she’s faking her low self-esteem in order to manipulate Andrew….. 🤦🏻‍♀️. Have you even paid attention to anything in the game?? That’s one of the biggest things about her character like hello?

I should have added this in earlier oops, but I’m adding it in now. After her and Andrew first talk to the lady in 302 and they leave her apartment, Ashley asks why the lady got special treatment but they didn’t, and why she didn’t get any food. Andrew responds with “maybe you just aren’t pretty enough”, he wasn’t being serious, but she took it that way. It didn’t help that he said “I mean… wasn’t she?” After Ashley asked if he thought she was pretty. That’s why Ashley wanted to shoot her after the ritual. You can see Ashley looks upset when she asks “do you really think I’m not pretty enough?”. Then gets angry and says “So ugly am I, that I shouldn’t even be fed?”. This is her insecurity and low self-esteem kicking in on full display.

This is a similar situation to what happened when her and Andrew were looking for something to lock Nina in the crate with at the warehouse. She asked him what he thought about Nina and if he found her pretty. He said “she’s fine… I guess”, which made Ashley unhappy. Even though Andrew wasn’t into her, like at all. Ashley has been dealing with insecurity and low self-esteem ever since she was a little girl 😭. I’m so upset for her like you guys have no idea.

After Ashley traps Nina in the crate, there’s a point where she’s crying and says “It’s not fair!! Why does everyone like her better??” “I’m loud and weird and annoying and no one likes me at all!!!”. 😭. My heart is breaking as we speak. It’s hard for me to believe she said all of that just to manipulate Andrew in that scene. I know in ch. 3 we will be delving more into their childhood, and I have a theory that Ashley was also bullied in school. I mean to refer to herself as loud, weird, annoying, and to say that no one likes her at all. That absolutely came from somewhere, and I don’t think it was just from Mrs.Graves.

So, to see people with the emotional depth of a raindrop get online and say that she’s solely the problem, that Andrew needs to get rid of her, and that she’s simply just evil… is, to put it lightly, very annoying. I’m gonna say something, you know I love both Ashley and Andrew, but we need to be honest! People give Andrew too much of a pass. I mean they literally excuse all of the terrible things he’s done and blame Ashley for “making” him do it. They give him a pass for everything, but have 0 empathy for Ashley despite everything going wrong in her life since she was born. They completely ignore that she’s a product of her environment. When it comes down to it, what good experiences in life has she really had?

Also, Andrew is more violent than Ashley is. I think that’s self explanatory. People seem to forget that she quite literally just wants to live a peaceful life with Andrew. During the “quarantine” while they were still in their old apartment, she says “Aside from the starving, it’s not so bad here.” and “Aside from starving, I like it here”. Ashley doesn’t want to live a life of violence and chaos, and we see this in the room before unlocking the door that leads us to the two burial route choices. If you place the knife down (violence) nothing happens, but when you place the flower down (love) - (my bad guys originally I put heart instead of flower, I changed it!) - the door becomes unlocked. She also gets upset when Andrew tells her that they can’t live at their parents new house, she literally doesn’t want to be on the run and just wants stability.

On Pinterest, I see girls talk about how much they hate Ashley in the comment sections. They literally just do this because they think Andrew’s hot 😂. Especially when they call her a bitch, like grow up 🙄. I’ve also seen people refer to her as a “pick me”?? Literally how? Immature teens need to be banned from playing this game LOL. It’s giving those male celebrity fandoms that dig to find anything “problematic” on a girl said male celebrity is dating just because they’re pissed it isn’t them, they don’t actually care if she’s problematic or not.

It’s literally just misogyny, they do this a lot to women in media. Breaking Bad is the biggest example of this, the people that act like Skyler White is worse than Walter are delusional as hell. Sorry, but If you’re misogynistic, lack empathy and/or emotional depth, TCOAAL isn’t for you 🤷🏻‍♀️. Period. That’s why the game deserves a better fanbase than the one it has outside of Tumblr. It deserves better in general.

They don’t care to look into why Ashley is the way she is. If it wasn’t obvious already, Andrew brings out Ashley’s worst behavior and blames her for making him do bad things. In his mind he can’t be guilty, so he needs something on the outside to blame (Ashley). Mrs.Graves contributes to this btw, during the setup of the ritual before they sacrificed her and Mr.Graves she was pretty much saying “I know you don’t want to do this, I know she’s making you do it!” 🤦🏻‍♀️. She sounds like one of those boy moms that go “my son didn’t do shit!” 😂.

The worst are the people who reduce Ashley to fap material and a “hot crazy girl they can fix or make worse” 🤪, and basically fetishize her (unchecked) mental health issues that contribute to how she acts. Again, she’s had crippling insecurities and low self-esteem since she was a kid, Ashley has had just about 0 good life experiences outside of the ones with Andrew. So it is incredibly frustrating to see. I’m like I hate y’all I really do, read the damn room 🙄. They need to stop projecting their weirdo shit onto her.

People who fetishize mental illness and talk about how they want to “date a crazy bitch” are so gross. If/when they actually date someone with said mental health issues, when things get bad and they don’t fit the fantasy anymore, they’ll get disgusted and drop the person struggling with mental issues like trash. Anytime I see a guy say “crazy girls with mental issues are better in bed!”…. I’m like I know what type of man you are 🫥…. Perish 🗣️.

Ashley and Andrew both have unchecked mental illness, we know this. It’s quite literally not their fault. However, I personally don’t feel comfortable diagnosing them. Every time I see someone online say they were a born a psychopath, sociopath, etc. I lose brain cells. Mind you, I’m literally majoring in psychology and I still don’t feel comfortable diagnosing them.

To wrap things up because I know this post is LONG! I empathize with both Andrew and Ashley because they’ve both been dealt a bad hand in life. Their parents failed them in every way, and the society they live in is totally dystopian. However, when it comes to Ashley specifically? I have all the empathy for her in the world, especially because I understand some of the things she’s dealt with and how painful it really is. Digging deeper into her character shows you that she has quite literally been through hell and back. You can say she’s a victim turned villain, but honestly? I don’t really even consider her a villain, maybe that’s controversial to say but 🤷🏻‍♀️, I don’t think she’s irredeemable either. She’s someone who was hurt very badly, her wounds run deep, and she never really got to heal from any of it.

I just want her and Andrew to have a happy ending, it would be nice for them to experience genuine happiness for once. I would also like to see Ashley gain some self love in ch. 3, maybe Andrew will be able to help her with that in a way as their relationship improves.

Honestly, people who act like the questionable burial route is the “bad” ending are in denial so bad. Nemlei has said that “Burial” and “Decay” aren’t an indicator of a “good” or “bad” ending though. There will also be multiple outcomes to discover. I’m both excited, and scared lol.

I love Ashley Graves so much as a character, she’s so interesting and complex. I don’t play about her 😂. When it comes to defending her I’m on the frontlines lmao. The misogyny/hate when it comes to her is crazyyy. I’ll be the odd one out I don’t care, she’s my girlie 💕. It’s always refreshing to see other people who adore her and actually understand her as a character.

~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading ❤️. I think this is my longest post yet 😳.

Also, a big thank you to everyone for all of the notes on my TCOAAL posts! I truly appreciate it. I’m so glad other people adore this game just as much as I do. :)

Unfortunately I’m not able to follow people back since this is a side blog. :/, but I do really appreciate everyone that follows me, I hope you like what I post. 💜

I’m currently working on creating an ooak doll of Ashley! 🤭💕. I’m SO excited to finish it and post her!

I plan on making a post about the Decay route at some point, because I realized I haven’t discussed it much. Probably because that route makes me sad 😓. However, it’s still incredibly interesting and I’m both excited and nervous to see where it goes.

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

♡Weekly Chronicles♡

Hey babes! I've missed you guysss I am so happy I had an amazing trip it was so nice. I went to a convention in Maryland for 5 days it was so nice. I definitely left with a lot of knowledge so many amazing people spoke at the lectures<3 and I'm sorry I missed the weekly affirmations for this week.

♡Education♡

I applied for all my classes for next semester before my trip. I’m low-key excited about the classes I have coming up. Lot of different courses since I'm almost done with my major required classes now I need to fill the rest of my credits with electives. I have an art class next semester just for fun. I can't wait to meet the people in my classes. I have to take this math class I am not excited for at all I hate math lol so every time I update you girliesss on this class I'll probably be complaining lol.

♡Mental♡

Interacting with different people this past week has been very good for me mentally. It brought me back to pre-quarantine Khadija who was such a big extrovert. After covid, I started to have mild social anxiety so this was needed. I dealt with a little insecurities while on my trip interacting with so many beautiful women I started to doubt my looks comparison is the thief of joy, I practiced a lot of the methods my therapist recommended like canceling one negative thought with two positive thoughts. I realized I was all in my head for no reason. I love watching Leo Skepi when I am feeling this way he always gets me together. I highly recommend him if you are dealing with a lack of discipline, self-confidence, or just need someone to get you together with tough love he is that guyyy. Side noteee I missed my antidepressant dose twice in a row because of traveling back to New York and it low-key made me hazy like it was super weird but I took it today. 

♡Physical♡

While I was away I ate super bad! The event was an African-focused event so the food there wasn’t healthy at all. I was going to stick to my diet while on my trip but I decided I'm on a trip let me relax and I don't regret it at all. But I am seeing the consequences of my food choices now I am soooo bloated lol. So I am starting a cleanse tomorrow for the next 14 days I already prepped my ginger shot for the morning I want to flush my system out completely going into the new year. I don't recommend cleanses especially to my babes that have dealt with ED’s always consult your doctors before starting anything. I just do what works for me. 

♡Hobbies♡

Now that I am back I can get back to being consistent with my Italian, pilates, and weight lifting. I was so sad I could not lift I feel like I'm low-key obsessed with lifting lol it feels so good and I've been seeing results, especially in my lower body. While I was gone I didn't have any time to do my hobbies they had us in lectures and events constantly. I practiced my Italian once which I'm happy about. I plan on starting jewelry making next week I'm super excited it was one of my favorite hobbies when I was in middle school. I used to make earrings and bracelets. 

♡Plans For The Weekend♡

My birthday is Sunday, December 31st! I am turning 21 yay! I am super excited I don't have anything planned for my birthday. I am going to have a mini celebration with my family and watch the ball drop my siblings bought me presents so I'm excited to open everything. I'm starting my cleanse so I'll be working out and taking good care of my body internally and externally so I'll be off social media this weekend and focused on my mental and physical health. I plan on creating my vision board and listing my goals this year. My dad is ordering my camera I used to have a YouTube channel but I took a break to work on my self-improvement journey I do plan on getting back on my YouTube grind soon lol so look out for that coming out in 2024! 

This week's little journal entrieee a lot happened this week and I'm excited to see what this new year brings babesss. Comment your plans this weekend and how did your week go?

[taizi]

a song to bring you home

one piece word count: 4k written for the its pirates server sake exchange ! my giftee was @portgas-d-aroace who wanted "anything asl" and gave me an excuse to write the most self indulgent fic of 2023

read on ao3

x

“Again?” Sabo whispers, trying to sound mad. Whether he sounds that way or not doesn’t actually matter, since he’s already lifting his blanket in silent invitation.

“Sorry, ‘Bo,” Luffy mumbles thickly. He wastes no time crawling onto Sabo’s thin mattress, and Sabo pulls the blanket back down around them both, tucking it tight to keep the chill away. 

Luffy attaches himself to Sabo’s side like a barnacle, tiny fists curled in his brother’s shirt as if he’s afraid something is going to swoop down and try to wrench them apart. Sabo huffs out a breath that fogs in the air and lets him. 

“Nightmare?” he asks after a moment. He keeps his voice quiet in case Ace is still asleep, even though his twin is the lightest sleeper on the planet. 

Luffy nods once, face buried against Sabo’s shoulder. He’s not trembling, but the way he’s holding himself completely still and silent is its own red flag. 

It’s easy to forget that Luffy is not actually as spoiled as he acts. He whines and cries and pouts like any other privileged little master, he’s bossy and clingy and demands to go where his brothers go even though they all know he won’t be able to keep up, and sometimes—oftentimes—it grates on Sabo’s very last nerve. 

But holding someone like Stelly up to someone like Luffy is like holding an orange up to the sun. There’s literally no comparison. 

If Ace were actually as annoyed by Luffy as he pretends to be, then he wouldn’t be the first one to roll his eyes and throw up his hands and stomp back to collect their youngest when he falls behind. If Sabo actually meant all the mean things he says when they have to waste precious daylight dealing with a stupid scrape on Luffy’s stupid knee, then he wouldn’t suggest the pilgrimage down to Makino’s bar because she has those colorful bandages that always make Luffy smile. 

Luffy is as much an orphan as Ace is—as Sabo pretends to be—and he was so desperate not to be alone that he was willing to die for their reluctant, backhanded friendship. He would run after them until his arms and legs gave out, and then at that point he would probably crawl, just so they don’t leave him behind. 

Stubborn, selfish, stupid Luffy. The unwanted little kid that Ace and Sabo have begun to shape all their days around. 

Something in Sabo’s chest hurts to know that Luffy is afraid. He tips his head and adjusts his arms so that the smaller boy is tucked more securely under his chin. Stars pinwheel slowly across the sky, winter constellations that Sabo will teach his brothers how to find once they manage to get their hands on a halfway decent telescope. There are clouds forming to the east, low and gray, that promise snow. 

“Sing,” Luffy mumbles petulantly. 

“You’re such a brat,” Sabo complains. But he doesn’t make Luffy go away, and it’s only another moment before he starts humming. 

Sabo doesn’t know a lot of music, having successfully dodged his piano tutor for the last two years straight, but there’s a song he overheard on the docks a few months ago that stuck. Some sailors were singing it while they worked. Sabo didn’t catch all the words, so he made up the rest.

He made the mistake of singing it within his little brother’s earshot only once, but once was enough. Now he may as well be a performing monkey, because for every birthday and campfire and boring afternoon and bad dream, Luffy requests the same thing. 

“Now you've got the chance to travel oceans,” Sabo half-says, half-sings, letting it settle somewhere between a story and a lullaby. “I hope the world’s as wide as you were hoping…” 

Luffy sighs, a slow, satisfied thing. The fear-frozen shape of him softens with every word. He’s asleep again within one verse. Sabo sings two more, just in case. 

—

Two weeks and five escape attempts after he nearly died at sea, Sabo is finally allowed out of the infirmary. It’s slow going, and the doctor isn’t thrilled with him, but stepping into the fresh air out on deck is worth the man’s grumbling and sidelong looks. 

The whole left side of Sabo’s body is pins and needles and every breath feels like it burns, like the fire that almost killed him is still ready to snatch him up if he’s not careful. 

But it’s worth it. It’s so worth it to see the open ocean, stretching out forever under a sky vivid orange and blue with dusk. There’s enough sunlight left in the early evening that it cascades across the surface of the water so brightly Sabo can’t look at it for very long. 

This is freedom. And it’s important, so important he’ll cling to it with tooth and nail. So important he would set out by himself in a barely-sea-worthy boat to claim it. He just doesn’t remember why . 

Sabo knows his name. He knows he left something horrible behind—he dreams of running desperately through a place that glittered and gleamed to hide the rot underneath, of begging cold, lofty faces for help that never comes. He knows that he should be happy to escape whatever left that impression on his brain. 

But there’s a pit in his chest. A gnawing emptiness where something important is supposed to live. Part of him is so desperate to go back to where he came from that he would swim there if he had to. 

With time, that feeling would fade. He would overlook it so often that it would become second nature to pretend it wasn’t there. Time and distance would soften the frantic edges, years stacking on top one after the other until that little voice wailing I want to go home! was too muffled for Sabo to hear. 

If it was important, he wouldn’t have forgotten in the first place, he would reason to himself. Right?

But today, Sabo wins the contest of wills with the doctor, and he steps out onto the deck, and there is someone by the bow humming a familiar song while they work, and the whole world stops. 

“Hey,” the doctor says, alarmed, and a bracing hand lands on his shoulder, and that’s about when Sabo realizes he’s crying. 

His damaged eye stings horribly, and he’s making a mess of the bandages on his face, and he can hardly get enough breath in his lungs to say, “Take me back where you found me. I have to go back.”

The concussion makes it difficult for him to form new memories right now—his brain was rattled pretty hard. So he thinks the faces that peer at him in confusion and concern are the same ones that have surrounded him since he woke up on this ship in the first place, but they all swim together. Names are impossible. He knows the doctor by the cross on his shirt, and he knows the broad, looming shape of the man who saved him, and he turns to those two in particular. 

“I know that song,” he babbles, hysterical. “I made up the lyrics so I could sing it to my brothers. What if Luffy has a nightmare while I’m gone? Ace doesn’t know the words. I have to go back. Take me back.”

They take him back. 

The air smells faintly of smoke and melted garbage and burned meat even as far out as the beach. It turns Sabo’s stomach. His brain is topsy-turvy and confused and he wobbles so badly that the doctor has a pinched, pissed-off look on his face that gets darker with every step Sabo takes. 

But his feet know where to go. They’ve walked this coastline a thousand times. The sand gives way to grass, and he has to use his hands to make it up to the top of the hill, but finally he spills out on his back where the earth beneath him and the sky above him are utterly familiar and takes deep gulping sobs of air. 

“I’m here,” he says nonsensically to the man who followed him. The man who stayed a step behind in case Sabo fell but otherwise let him fight his own way back to the place he needed to be. “I’m home.”

The man studies him without speaking, his tattooed face impossible to read. Sabo’s thoughts are all swimmy, but he hopes he remembers this guy. He hopes he can find him again someday. His vision greys a few times, and at some point the man isn’t there anymore, but there’s a strong wind blowing in from the sea—steady and unrelenting, just hard enough that the nearby tree boughs start to bend. 

Someone says, “My hat!” 

Someone else says, “You and your stupid fucking hat—hurry up, it flew this way!”

Sabo is humming to himself when they finally find him, and falls asleep somewhere in the middle of those voices shrieking his name. 

Now he’s home. 

—

“I can’t even look at him,” Ace grinds out, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “That reckless little asshole.”

“Mm-hmm,” Sabo replies mildly. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, carding one hand through his little brother’s hair. “I wonder who he takes after more.”

“Shut up, ‘Bo! You’re just as bad as him!”

“If you children can’t get along, I’ll separate you,” Luffy’s friend, the extremely unsettling Surgeon of Death, says in a tone that suggests that he has both the means to make good on his threat, and also the absence of any god-given good sense to try it. 

Sabo, ever the peacekeeper, smiles at Trafalgar without teeth. “We’ll be on our best behavior. Thank you again for being there for my brother.”

The supernova cuts a sharp glance at him, dark eyes unreadable. His gaze travels to Ace for a long moment, and then finally drops to Luffy in the bed between them. There is something in his face—something more than the spite-and-caffeine-fueled monster of a man he would like the rest of the world to believe he is—something not quite so old, not quite so burdened, that looks down at Sabo’s little brother and sees someone who deserved to be saved.

But all Trafalgar says is, “Would’ve been too boring to let him die now.” He leaves the room after that, the door shutting behind him solidly. 

“Didn’t Nami say that guy only met Luffy once?” Ace says, bewildered. “What the hell is he doing risking his neck for a stranger?”

“Sometimes that makes it easier,” Sabo says. “A stranger could be anyone.”

Ace wrinkles his brow, an uncomprehending twist to his mouth. He has come leaps and bounds from the hateful little boy he used to be, but he has always clutched his brothers closest and kept everyone else at arm’s length. 

Since forming the Spade pirates, that tight-knit circle in his heart has inched wider. Ace thinks the world of Deuce, even if he will literally attack anyone who implies as much like a rabid coyote. Masked Deuce, who has actually referred to his captain as a rabid coyote on more than one occasion, within his earshot and to his face, would kill for Ace indiscriminately. The rest of the Spades are equally as long-suffering and entirely devoted. 

Secretly, Sabo believes that Whitebeard is going to get through to him one of these days. The last time Marco and Thatch came around with a recruitment pitch, Ace only set them a little bit on fire. 

Maybe some people would call it selfish to put you and yours first, but Sabo doesn’t think so. As long as Ace wants to live for his brothers and his crew, he wants to live. He’ll endure prison with gritted teeth, he’ll fight the guards every step of the way to the execution scaffold, he’ll never, ever go gently. 

That’s all Sabo asks of him. Hang on for one more minute. Survive one second longer. 

It was no grand fleet or sprawling armada that spread across the horizon to retrieve Fire Fist Ace from the hands of the World Government, but the Revolutionary Army was hardly going to stand by on this one. Not when it was their Chief of Staff’s beloved twin brother at stake. And so the war began long before the battle had a chance to start. 

Half of the military forces meant to be stationed at Marineford never arrived, picked off ship by ship in the week leading up to the execution. All radio frequencies were jammed the day of, transmissions in and out of the island blocked universally, and the media blackout of what was promised to be a globally-televised event had people talking. 

The only thing available on every channel was music—the tone dial recording of a skeleton musician bowing a familiar song on his violin. Looping on every station, every monitor, every snailphone. It drowned any attempt the soldiers made at communication, and more importantly it irritated the hell out of them, but it had a secret third purpose as well; if Ace heard it, he would know exactly who was coming for him.

(Ace heard it. The morning he was slated to be killed, a harried guard ran from one end of the cell block to the other with a malfunctioning den-den in hand, and the music echoed off the stone walls like it was trying to make a point. 

It wasn’t his brother’s voice, but it was his song. Ace knew it like he knew his own name. Shackled as he was, he couldn’t reach his fire—but for the first time since he was captured, he didn’t feel cold.)

In another world, his execution was overseen by all three admirals and most of the warlords, the military rightly assuming that they would need to meet the full weight of Whitebeard’s infamous protection head-on. 

But in this one, Ace is a powerful pirate captain of a relatively small crew, rising in fame and bounty, but attached to no great superpower. Still the demon spawn of the Pirate King, still an example waiting to be made, but there was no way Sengoku could have anticipated the battlefield Marineford would become. 

The Spades, the Strawhats, the Revolutionaries and the handful of ships sailing in Whitebeard’s name to fight for that cocky young captain he was so fond of brought more than enough of a fight with them. The Red-Hair pirates’ fashionably late arrival was kind of an overkill. 

Sabo made sure to say so. 

“What, so I should just sit back and watch?” Shanks laughed as they made their retreat, one newly liberated prisoner folded safely into their ranks. “No way. I’d like to be able to look Roger and Rogue in the eye when I meet them in the afterlife, thanks.”

“Is there a reason you’re covering your eyes?” Ace asked hoarsely, sounding a little bit like he didn’t want to know the answer. 

“I’m not allowed to meet Luffy again until he’s become a great pirate,” the man replied cheerfully, jogging down to the wharf blindly with his hand clamped over his face. Deuce, glued to Ace’s side for the foreseeable future, traded a long-suffering look with Benn Beckman.

After the clusterfuck that was Sabaody, Kuma sent the Strawhats safely to Baltigo one by one. When an RA mole within the Marines brought news of Ace’s execution, half of Luffy’s monsters went back to retrieve their ship, and the other half forged ahead with the rescue mission. 

So it’s the Thousand Sunny they made their getaway with, the cheerful little lion ship an extra special fuck you to the Marines that made Sabo feel warm inside. 

The team has since scattered, the Revolutionaries and Red-Hair pirates breaking off to lead the Marines on a very merry goose chase. The Whitebeard pirates don’t go away without first passing Ace along yet another offer to join their ranks—to their credit, they seem amused by the whole thing, as if Ace spitting sparks in sheer annoyance and the Spades’ prickly, proprietary offense are all part of the game. The Polar Tang is nesting abeam the Thousand Sunny while the Heart’s captain consults with the Strawhat’s very young doctor, something that seems to put the little reindeer at ease. 

They’re in the aftermath. Sabo takes a deep breath for the first time in what feels like weeks. 

Luffy collapsed the second his feet hit the grassy deck of his ship, his body crumpling beneath him like a puppet with its strings all cut. It would have been horrifying, if he hadn’t been snoring loud enough for Sanji to hear it from the galley and come out to investigate. Zoro scooped him up and Nami held the door open to the room she and Robin share, what would have been the captain’s quarters on any other ship, and Luffy was deposited carefully in a soft bed. 

“He needs a bath,” Nami said, nose wrinkled in a way that did nothing to disguise her affection as she combed his dirty, sweaty hair away from his face with her fingers. 

“It’s laundry day anyway,” Usopp replied, coming through the door with his arms full of someone’s well-loved blanket. Sabo smiled to see his spoiled little brother tucked in by his friends. Some things never changed. 

“Glad you’re okay,” Sanji said to Ace, the last one to linger in the room, keeping the door propped open with his hip. “Ghost pepper chicken curry for dinner,” he added, which was Ace’s favorite food, and the final straw for Sabo’s twin brother. He sat there blinking wetly at his own hands, at the bruises the sea-stone manacles left on his wrists, finally letting himself feel the weight of what he had survived. 

And now Sabo pats the bed beside him. Ace glares at nothing for a moment longer, before he gets up to join his brothers. It’s inevitable, like an act of gravity. The mattress gives beneath him and Luffy mumbles crossly in his sleep, turning toward them without waking. 

“Brat,” Ace all but whispers. Then he says, just as quiet, “Thank you.” 

Sabo says, “Nothing exists in this world that could have kept us away from you.”

Ace puts his head on Sabo’s shoulder, this wild young thing who doesn’t know how to want to live for himself yet. It’s okay. He’s figuring it out. He’s getting closer and closer. Someday soon he’ll understand that his siblings and his crew—his family—wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth for someone who wasn’t worth all their love. He’ll realize how deserving he is of all that. Until then, Sabo will believe it for him. 

“I’m on your side and you can call me and just like that,” Sabo sings under his breath, “I’ll sing a song to bring you home.”

“Hey,” Ace protests when he stops, muffled against Sabo’s shoulder. “Keep going.” 

So he does. 

—

Sabo is twelve, almost but not quite thirteen, and he’s much too old to cry. 

He had been sneaking through the market, ceramic festival mask on his face and hooded cloak hiding his hair, pockets full of those hot cinnamon candies his brothers love so much, when he glimpsed them. 

His parents. They were strolling along the decorated streets, arm-in-arm. Stelly was walking at Outlook’s side, talking importantly and waving his hands. And on Didit’s side, holding her hand, was… 

Sabo had to run away before he did something awful, like show weakness where one of the rich monsters might see it. He ducked into a side street and started running the second he was out of sight. His heart didn't settle until he was weaving through the familiar dingy corners of Edge Town and picking his way over heaps of trash in the Terminal. 

Even when he makes it into the forest, and the trees shelter him on all sides and the owl monkeys make their racket in hello, even when he’s headed in a straight line toward the place he feels safest in the whole world, he still hurts. 

They replaced him. Again. With a little girl this time. She had blond hair and brown eyes, as if her whole little person was spun from gold. Her pinafore dress was cookie-cutter perfect. 

Sabo wonders which noble line they adopted her from. He wonders if they even told her Sabo’s name, or if Stelly is the only brother she’s aware of, or if she would care one way or the other. He wonders what kind of person she is—if she’ll fit in, or get eaten alive. 

He doesn’t care what his parents think of him. He doesn’t. He is certain in his heart that they’re the worst sort of noble—they’re selfish and shallow and don’t know the first thing about what it really means to be a human person on this planet. He knows all that. 

He was unbelievably lucky to fully escape his family, to be presumed dead in their eyes, and he’s never going back. An act of god couldn’t drag him back. 

But there’s this awful pressure behind Sabo’s eyes and nose, and his face feels hot and prickly, like there are needles poking at him. 

He doesn’t love them. 

It’s stupid, so stupid, that there’s a tiny part of him that still wants to be loved by them.  

Sabo climbs the ladder to the treehouse with numb hands, easing the trapdoor open carefully so the hinges don’t squeak. 

The ancient camping heater Makino gave them glows a steady orange in the corner, clanging occasionally as it works against the December night air. 

It’s early evening yet, but Ace has been pretty sick, and Luffy has subsequently been glued to his side. Even with the noisy fireworks down on the beach from the end of the year festival in Goa, they’re both sleeping soundly, curled up tight together like leopard cubs. 

There’s a pile of quilts folded messily on the other mattress, waiting for Sabo when he comes home. The sight of them causes a sharp pain in his chest that he can’t explain. 

He takes off the mask, climbs out of his boots and cloak, and drags the extra blankets over to his brothers. One by one he adds them to the nest, layering them neatly and tucking in the edges, and then worms his way in next to Luffy, because Ace doesn’t rest well if he feels stuck or boxed in. 

Sabo’s parents replaced him for the second time, two years after he was, to the best of their knowledge, blown apart at sea by their precious Celestial Dragons. Had the ink on his death certificate even dried before they brought their new daughter home?

Sabo’s brothers saved him blankets, the best ones without any holes, even though they could have used them. Should have used them. Even when he wasn’t here, they were thinking of him. They didn’t want him to be cold. 

The sob takes Sabo by surprise. He stuffs a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears. He sobs again, as quietly as he can.

He doesn’t notice when Luffy wakes up, but he feels it when clumsy fingers land in his hair, pawing through it as his baby brother hums a familiar tune. A well-meaning mimicry of every time Luffy’s older brothers have done this same thing for him. 

“So you can keep me somewhere out of reach but if you need me,” Luffy’s voice warbles like a sweet little bird, “just hum these memories and you can feel me. I’m always standing by.”

If Sabo opened his eyes, he would see that Ace is wide-awake, scowling up at the sky; their tiny family’s stalwart protector, standing guard even when he has a fever and he’s buried under a small mountain of quilts. 

And he would see Luffy’s sleepy, scarred face split in half by a smile, beaming like he was trying to put the sun out of a job. 

But Sabo keeps his eyes shut, and buries his face a little further for good measure, that tiny part of him that wants to be loved crying I am! They do! It’s such a big feeling he doesn’t know how to hold it. He wants to just sit with it for a bit longer. 

“Ace, sing,” Luffy breaks off to scold loudly. 

“Don’t even dream of bossing me around, Lulu,” Ace snaps back.

Ace’s voice sounds hoarse and sore, but he joins in anyway. Of course he does. Only Luffy gets some of the words wrong in every verse, and it sparks a scathing argument each time—the two of them alternating singing together and shouting over each other, putting their rowdy owl monkey neighbors to shame. 

It’s the best thing Sabo’s ever heard. He’s laughing too hard to cry anymore. 

[valhalla-awaitsfor-us]

Hi! I hope you don't mind I take your reply to my post to talk a little bit about script writing as a scriptwriter.

This is in no way an attack, I just saw an opportunity to explain something as someone who works writing scripts.

At this point I think it's becoming clear that live action only exists because Netflix wants to have its own Game of Thrones, but that they are not going to respect the core of the original series, because their goal is different. Having said this, I want to review why the changes that are being made are incorrect (if the idea is to respect the story and the characters) focusing on the 3 protagonists: Sokka, Katara and Aang.

Let's start with Sokka, whose changes are perhaps the most "controversial."

As I said in my original post, The core of Sokkas character is that he is a boy who grew up trying to be a man since his father left for war. In that attempt, as someone immature and unguided, he had sexist attitudes, only to later mature and become a real man. Great example for young boys.

No, his sexism comments didn't last long, but they changed at a key moment in the plot: When Suki appears. Avatar is a special series because it was one of the first of its time to so explicitly touch on the topic of feminism. Rebelling in every sense of the word is a recurring theme in ATLA. Sexism was literally knocked out of Sokka when he met the Kyoshi warriors. That's why the scene of him wearing the warriors' clothes is so significant and why it's so important that at the end of the season Sokka has learned his lesson, because there is a direct comparison between him and Pakku. Sokka, on his path to becoming a man, was able to deconstruct his misogynistic mentality at his young age and without an adult guidance, while a man of Paku's age, admired and respected, was still rooted in his sexist beliefs.

It was Katara's act of rebelling against Sokka's sexism that freed Aang from the icerberg. Because, again, an act of rebellion, of standing firm in the face of injustice, along with redemption, are the pillars of Avatar. Sokka's journey encompasses all of those topics, and the fact that he is 16 and not 19 is essential to his character arc.

Is not that we want him to be sexist. We want him to be flawed. Because each flaw are unique to each character. It talks about their development and also about the themes of the show.

Also "Toned down" it sounds weird because as a kid I always knew Sokka was an idiot when being sexist. But it wasn't that bad that I was afraid of him or so angry that I hated his character. Because Avatar is a kid shows even if people from all ages can enjoy it. So when they said "toned down" I was really confused. It made me feel that for them, the only way to show him being sexist way to make him do some unredeemable thing.

Katara

So. Im gonna start saying that Im not a fan of Katara. I think her character is written incredibly well, but it just not for me. In fact, i do feel like we needed an scene between Sokka and her where they can clear the air about their mom. The things she said to her brother and to Aang, the only survivor of a genocide, were too hard to not have a talk after that.

NOW, After saying that, Katara is Katara because of her backstory. Seeing her mother die in front of her and being the only waterbender in her tribe lead her to feel the need to take care of everyone, especially her brother, to be overprotective, to be compassionate. To be Katara.

Sokka himself admits that sometimes when he tries to remember his mother he only remembers Katara. While Aang is a boy who must mature faster than normal, Katara is a girl who has already grown faster than normal and her journey not only includes rebelling and protecting others, but also recovering some of that lost childhood.

Katara is the representation of water. Healing and destructive at the same time. Turbulent but benevolent. I feel the live action writers, and even the actors and actresses, do not understand that the feminist message was already perfectly captured in the original material. The creators of Avatar created complex female characters and just because Katara's story is influenced by the concept of motherhood does not mean that she is not a strong character. She is a strong character because her story is influenced by that concept. Not because motherhood in itself makes us women strong, but because motherhood, specifically for her character, puts her at crossroads and forces her to go through an arc of transformation.

Aang

I'm going to be concise and short with Aang. The decision to have so many "distractions" in his mission is because Aang is 12 years old and does not want to face a war. I think it's something so basic that it seems dumb not to understand that a young boy doesn't want the responsibility of saving the world and seeing his friends die again. I think, maybe, just maybe, understanding that is not that hard.

If they wanted to write a story of wars, blood and darkness, they should not have chosen Avatar, whose protagonist is a little boy.

[borzoilover69]

“Ok Borzoi so why don’t you like Dirkjohn” - somebody, who didn’t ask, but I want to ramble. 

I guess it’s funny as a crack ship but in actuality, i feel it would fall incredibly flat and only be viable in an unhealthy way. Canonically, they've got little to nothing to do with each other, and their relationship branches on bullshit in the epilogues and HS2 which just isn't a good judge of Dirk and Johns character so much as a butcher of it.

First, lets get their characters down. Dirk, very introspective to the point of destruction, who’s prone to rambling, overcomplicating and accentuating things in a way to keep up his aura of coolness, of being “totally in control and all knowing”, and sort of socially awkward, failing quite a few times to read jokes as jokes. 

John, upfront, more likely to push forward without really thinking, keeps things simple and asks not much, and very much a protagonist figure. He’s blunt, he’s teasing in his humour, and he likes to take the mic out of people and make his own fun. 

Dirk is very active. He's willing to go through many hoops and talk around himself, and he needs a conversational partner willing to spar him on it, however, John is anything but that. He's upfront, he brings a hypothetical hammer down into the bush that dirk is walking around. Jake will indulge, so will a lot of the alpha kids, but the beta kids by far are more blunt and straight forward. John would see whatever bullshit Dirk is pulling and think it's stupid and ornery, and shut him down..Dirk would go "okay" and then either try to counterpoint to be shut down, or walk away.This conversation is a relaly good point of reference for how it would go. Note how roxy is going through the general alpha kids bullshit theatrics and ornery, and john instead of getting it, cuts it down with "no thats stupid", and doesnt get the joke.

This conversation is a really good point of reference for how it would go. Note how roxy is going through the general alpha kids bullshit theatrics and ornery, and john instead of getting it, cuts it down with "no thats stupid", and doesnt get the joke.

dirk wouldn't know how to handle someone actually being completely straight up and refusing to humor him, being open about not giving a shit about whatever tangent dirk is on.  it might humble him which he definitely needs sometimes but most of the time itd just make him go "ok. whatever man im going to jake's"

(art by my boyfriend) 

Nobody puts up with dirk and jakes bullshit as much as dirk and jake do each other

DIRK: "I'll get this blue gumball son of a bitch this time. He's gonna be so perplexed by the bullshit im about to spew he's got no idea the storm that's wafting in on the wind."

 and then john says ratio and dirk is reduced to ash. 

John and Jake also have a bad habit of comparison in a negative sense, like how he did with davesprite. Jake does it out loud with no regard for others, and John is the type to drop a single “x has already made this joke” because his preference of Dave is so much stronger than Dirk. Dirk wouldn’t be able to beat Dave to the ironic punchline because most likely, Dave has already said it in a language John understands, and John has made fun of him for it already. John doesn’t have patience for long winded games, if he’s not in the mood he’ll just fuck off. 

Personally feel like John would be acutely aware that Dirk hates when he shuts him down, but he just genuinely cannot sit here and listen to a “worse version of dave talk like hes pretending to be rose. I just cant.i don’t have it in me.” 

I mean I think they’d be funny somewhat, but they would not be happy together at all it would be awkward as hell. Dirk needs someone to pull him out of his bullshit but John just won’t do that. He won’t consider it really that much. They could have funny moments, but the toxicity of their potential relationship sours most of it for me. Dirk is pretty fucking intense in a lot of ways, and hes prone to being a lot. 

the alpha kids in general are just way intense due to their fucking isolation whatever thety smoked in those years made them volatile like fucking potent like a chili peppers but thats words for another ramble.

John just isn’t able to match Dirk. He doesn't think enough, he's just going with the flow and dirk needs someone who can either match him on an intellectual level or someone who can match him in an interest way. John just wouldn’t take the relationship seriously enough, which would lead to Dirk trying to figure out something that isn’t there to really figure out. John matches well with someone who has known him for a while and doesn’t have a specific way they want things to go. 

[lily-orchard]

Since this appears to be the topic this month, what do you think about topics that artists should be allowed to cover? I see this a lot in how people should be allowed to write whatever they want, often bringing up Lolita as an example.

As one of my favourite creators once said: There is no right to be heard.

One problem with this kind of discourse is that regardless of whether you think they should or not, people are free to have whatever opinion about you that they like. More often than not discussions about what is wise to create or what is responsible to create gets twisted by some truly awful people into conversations about what is "allowed."

It's like how criticism gets rebuked with "let people enjoy things." We're not stopping you.

Someone saying "You writing about this is an endorsement of it" is not actually infringing on your rights in any way. You have the right to yell "Ban this sick filth" as much as you fucking please.

That having been said, it's always interesting when Lolita gets brought up in these arguments because Lolita is usually brought up to defend brazenly pornographic Lolicon shit, when it's a completely irrelevant comparison.

Lolita is not a love story. Lolita is a psychological examination of a self-pitying criminal and the consequences and human costs of his heinous crimes.

This isn't something you could stick beside AO3 fetish porn because the authors of AO3 fetish porn are the SUBJECT and VILLAIN of the book. It's like trying to put "Riding in Cars with Boys" next to a Republican propaganda film about the righteousness of teen mothers and shotgun weddings.

If it were released today it'd be branded by the people using it as a cudgel as 'hateful propaganda for the antis.'

You already have the right to write whatever you please, and I or any other critical voice can't take that from you no matter how much or little any of us might want to. So bear that in mind as I make my next point:

Dark material only works if you have something to say. You have to do something with it. You could do something with it and fail, but failure is something the rest of us learn from. Even bad art has a place in history, if only to serve as some 'how not to do it' guide.

But there's this recent trend that, as an artist myself, has always fucking irked me. And that's "let's watch them get worse." Where you take the darkest material that you can possibly think of ("you" being a white suburban woman whose idea of getting freaky involves fuzzy handcuffs you got at Dollar Tree) and then you just sit there with it and do nothing. You just watch things get worse and worse and the thing we're supposed to take away from it is... nothing. Because it was made to shock the normies.

I played a game like this for the upcoming video and the only thing about it that was actually shocking was the disparity between how it was marketed and sold vs the actual product. It was utterly artless from start to finish, with only one or two moments that provided anything more thought provoking than "Wow what a whack-a-doodle." But even with that 'refuge in audacity' it was still weirdly afraid of itself to the point that it would pass the Hayes Code if it were released 70 years ago.

I think in the script I actually describe the writing as the living embodiement of "Ha ha just kidding unless."

It establishes that its protagonist is not a good person, and then all but one of the people they kill also had it coming. For something that billed itself as 'edgy' that was just fucking sad.

But that's really where we're at. We have a large group of people who want edgy, taboo-defying media, but they also want that media to comfortably fit into the fandom cycle. And really edgy material doesn't do that because part of being edgy is having a point to make. And if your story has a theme, it doesn't fit into the fandom cycle.

This has always been the contradiction between people who want "serious art" and the reality of how those same people consume art in the first place. They want serious art, but the characters still have to be malleable for headcanons and shipping. The characters still have to be pristine and sexy for the simps. So any theme the work has will be blunted so hard that it suits the censorship standards of almost a century ago.

And that section of art, that I used to call "Adventure Fantasy" when it was just limited to animation but now I need to find a new name for it, is one I truly believe has no right to exist.