#i don't' even have the benefit of other new fans to be wrong *with*

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot

"Does he even pay you?"

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings

Length: 7k+ words

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.

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"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.

"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.

You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.

Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.

Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.

While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!

The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.

Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.

He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.

"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.

Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.

Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.

He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.

'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'

'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'

'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'

You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.

You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.

He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.

Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.

Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.

Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.

He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.

He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.

"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.

"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"

"I know." You admit quietly.

"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."

"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.

"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.

"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.

You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.

Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.

When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.

It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.

Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.

He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.

He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?

People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.

"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.

He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.

Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.

His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.

"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.

Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.

He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.

You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?

Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.

He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.

He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.

"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.

"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.

What is your job, really?

Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.

It's good money. A hobby you cherish.

Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.

You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?

Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?

You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.

"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.

"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.

"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.

"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?

"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.

"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.

"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.

You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.

You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-

who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.

"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.

"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.

It will. Sadly.

"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.

No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.

He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.

Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.

When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.

The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.

"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.

"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.

"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.

"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.

So that's the reason?

"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.

"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.

"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.

"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.

"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.

"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."

"How?" You ask baffled.

"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.

"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.

Suddenly, he wants you out the room.

Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?

Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?

"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.

"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.

"Cool." You say.

"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.

"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.

"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.

"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.

"No." You deny.

"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.

"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."

"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.

"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.

"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.

"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.

"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.

"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.

"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.

"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.

"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.

"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.

"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.

"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.

"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.

"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.

"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.

"Not really." You deny.

"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.

"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.

"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.

"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.

"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."

"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.

He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.

"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.

"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.

"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.

"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."

"..feel how much I love you."

You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.

"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.

"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."

"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.

"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.

"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.

"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.

"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.

"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.

"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.

"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.

"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.

"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.

"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.

"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.

"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.

"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.

"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.

"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.

You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.

And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.

And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-

promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.

[loveueddie]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙'𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙡𝙪𝙩

Pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie warms you up for "work."

Warnings: +18, Smut, unprotected sex, insults like 'slut', mention of drugs, slaps, Dom!Eddie, mention of 'Daddy', pornographic video. (I think that's just it haha)

Author's Notes: This is my first work, I couldn't proofread it so don't throw stones at me for mistakes lol. English is not exactly my language, forgive me if something is wrong. 🫶🏼🩷

You and Eddie are best friends with benefits. He calls you when he wants to wet his cock and you call him when your pussy needs attention. But what no one knew was that you two made videos during sex and posted them on a famous porn site, you two were famous on the site and made money. All of this had advantages, after all, who wouldn't want to make money just by having sex? Especially with Eddie Munson.

Having money was good and having sex with Eddie Munson was even better, he was her best friend but God, how could someone like him, who hadn't had that many experiences with girls throughout his life, be so good at fucking? It was a secret, maybe he was so fascinated in pornography since he was young and now he was doing his own with you.

Lying on your best friend's couch, wearing nothing but Eddie's old shirt, white lace panties, white socks on your feet and a herb wrapped in silk between your toes, you watch your best friend sitting on the other side of the couch, his skillful fingers, which They were in your pussy a few minutes ago, typing on the laptop on his lap, probably checking the comments on the video he posted of fucking your breasts earlier.

His curly hair was a little messy, shirtless, the tip of his tongue between his lips and the buttons of his black jeans were open, showing the happy trail of his pubic hair. He was sitting lazily on the couch, his legs parted as if silently inviting you to sit on his lap or kneel between his legs to suck him off. Both options were really good.

You pass the herb wrapped in silk for him to take a drag of which he thanks you with a wink and squeezing your thigh with his hand, leaving the marks of his rings and fingers on your skin.

Eddie laughed at a particularly nasty comment about her tit-sucking skills. "Looks like the Hawkins Freak has a new skill." He says with a smile as he squeezes your thigh, enjoying the sight of your ass peeking out of those white panties. "I bet I could make them cum just by sucking on those tits right now." Eddie blinks and blows a smoke ring, flicking the ash from his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. "Want to make us more money, baby?" Eddie asks as he caresses your bare, reddened thigh with his fingers.

You laugh, slapping his hand playfully and making a fake pout with your lips. "Doesn't the star here deserve a rest?"

Eddie smiles smugly, stretching and flexing his arm to show off. "Nah, we're doing good now, honey. I know you can take more." He suggests, pressing a finger against your cheek to gently turn your face to his, and looking at you lustfully. Eddie hands you the weed as he puts his laptop aside and lays down next to you on the couch, turning you onto your side to fit on his side. You feel his bare chest against your back. "I know you can. You never let me down." Eddie whispers, slowly rubbing his hard cock against your ass. Eddie's breath tickles your ear before kissing it softly. "Are you going to deny me, slut?"

Your breathing becomes shaky when he calls you a slut, kissing your ear and making you shiver. You bite your lip and then take another drag of the joint, playfully blowing the smoke in his face. Eddie laughs at your playful teasing and takes a deep whiff of the smoke, then takes the joint from your fingers. "So fucking sexy, baby." He murmurs, pulling your closer by your hips until they're flush against each other. "We'll give our fans something to jerk off to." He hand slides over your stomach, running his fingers over your sensitive skin, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. "Tell me, slut. How do you want to fuck tonight?" Eddie's fingers curl around your waist, giving your ass a gentle squeeze as he ponders your answer. "On your knees, on your back, bent over... It's your choice." His lips brush against her cheek, making her shudder as his hard cock presses against her ass. "We're going to make our fans cum, baby. Let's have fun."

You smile at him, rubbing your nose against his as you blow smoke into your half-open mouth, in which Eddie swallows the smoke satisfyingly. "Anyway you want."

Eddie laughs, placing a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling away. "Open your legs, baby." His voice is full of desire, the command mixed with a harsh tone. "I'm going to touch your soaking wet pussy." Eddie's hand slides up your thigh, pushing your panties aside to expose your slick folds. "I bet your pussy is already dripping for me, isn't it?" He murmurs against your earlobe, his finger tracing circles around your swollen clit as you gasp, your hips arching. "What a horny slut..."

Eddie's finger slides inside you, making you moan louder. His fingers curl deeper, teasing your sensitive spot as you throw your head back, your body shaking with pleasure. "They want to see us cumming on each other... And that's exactly what we're going to do." Eddie's free hand runs down your chest, pinching your nipple as he pumps his finger inside you, until the rings are inside you too.

Eddie pushes a second finger inside you, stretching your wet pussy as you whimper his name. "So wet, slut." He rubs his fingers against your G-spot, his cock throbbing in your ass as you pant. "I want to see that beautiful pussy when I fuck you, baby." Eddie slowly withdraws his fingers, tracing a wet path towards your clit before rubbing it firmly. "Get ready... I'm going to make you cum and we'll film it for our fans." His warm breath on your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you nod anxiously. "Let's give them what they want, slut." His thumb pressing against your clit as he hooks another finger, rubbing your swollen bud until your hips buck uncontrollably, your wet heat squeezing him. "Come for me, baby..." Eddie's voice is low, a whisper harshly as you choke. Your body shaking as you scream and whimper his name, your juices covering his hand.

You cum in his hand, panting and your chest rising and falling. You take a drag on the joint before passing it to him, placing the joint between your lips for him to take a drag on, since his fingers were busy in your soaked pussy.

Eddie sucks on the joint, shaking it as he strokes her tender, sensitive pussy, admiring your sensitive flesh glistening with her arousal. "Perfect, slut. It's show time..."

He kisses your hip, trailing down your inner thigh as you let out a satisfied sigh. "Get on all fours, baby." Eddie orders softly, pulling his fingers away from your pussy, making you moan softly, eager for his touch. “Now.” Eddie says in a husky voice, pulling your hair playfully, his cock throbbing with excitement as you obey, spreading your legs wide. Eddie smiles satisfied, taking the video camera with his hand wet with his cum, the other hand slaps his ass hard before starting to lower his black jeans to his knees, he wasn't even in his underwear.

You tilt your head to look at him over your shoulder, but Eddie grabs your hair and forces you to face forward. "Not yet, porn star." He plays with you, although his tone is hoarse with desire and commanding. He watches your panties stuck between your soaked folds. Eddie basically preps you before turning on the camera, adjusting your shirt above the waist and taking one last drag on the joint. The joint always made him hornier than normal.

Eddie turns on the camera, pointing at your wet pussy from behind, making you blush slightly. He records his finger playing with your wet lips, teasing you and hearing you whimper softly. “Please…” You whimper, breathing labored. Then suddenly he stops and you know what that means, it means he would continue if you called him..."Daddy. Please, daddy..." You add and that makes him smile, murmuring a "good girl" while pushing your panties to the side, revealing your slippery folds.

"Open your legs wider." He commands in a husky tone, his finger tracing circles around your sensitive flesh, making you moan softly. "What a horny slut..." Eddie teases your clit, making your hips shake as he takes another hit of the joint. "I'm going to fuck you deep, baby. So deep..." Eddie's voice grows husky, his cock poking your pussy from behind, teasing you. "Ready?" Eddie asks, his dick pressing harder against your wet entrance.

"Yes, daddy." You say with a trembling voice, unable to take the delay any longer. But Eddie has some fun, pointing the video camera at the hard cock at the entrance to your wet pussy, the pink head of his cock rubbing teasingly against your wet folds, threatening to penetrate, but only penetrating the head of the penis and pulling away to rub the tip on your sensitive clit.

"Eddieeee..." You whimper, already starting to feel your eyes watering from wanting his hard cock filling you so much. Eddie smiles and gently probes your tight opening with his swollen head cock, enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in your heat. "You're so tight, slut." He murmurs against your ear, pushing deeper, filling you slowly.

“This pussy is going to take all of me…” Eddie moans in the back of his throat, sinking completely inside you, your bodies connected in a way that was intended to be filmed. "They're going to love this, baby..." His fingers curl around your hips, holding you firmly as he begins to pump his cock in and out of you, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing in the room , captured on camera. Eddie leans over you, his bare chest against your back, the camera suddenly thrust in front of your face. He was recording your face as he fucks you hard.

"Tell 'em, tell 'em you're my slut..." Eddie's breath is hot against your ear, his body tense as he fucks you harder, looking down and growling as he enjoys the sight of his disappearing cock inside your tight pussy. "I-I'm your slut, daddy.." You say, voice shaky and drunk with pleasure and his big cock fucking you.

"Cum for me... Cum while they watch us fuck..." His voice is rough, full of desire as you moan, your body shaking beneath him, close to your climax.

Eddie grunts, his cock throbbing as you squirt around his cock until it leaks out of your pussy, a wave of pleasure rushing through him. “Fuck, baby…” He gasps, his release imminent. He pulls you close, burying his cock deep inside you as he unloads inside you, the sight of your cum-filled pussy caught on camera making your climax even more intense.

"Perfect, slut. Just perfect..." Your breath hitches as he slowly pulls out, his cock glistening with your juices. Eddie smirks at you, rubbing his cum covered cock against your sensitive flesh, enjoying the way you shudder beneath him. "For my horny slut, here you go." He grinds his hips against you, recording with the video camera and flooding your pussy with his hot cum, making you whimper even louder as you grip the couch, your body shaking with pleasure. "That's it, slut. Take Daddy's cum..." Eddie's voice is full of satisfaction, his gaze fixed on the sight of your cum-filled pussy before he pulls away gently, collapsing against your back, panting.

His chest rises and falls against you, his arms wrapped around you as you bask in the glow, completely exhausted. Eddie then turns the camera to focus on his sweaty face and his face, sweaty and flushed with pleasure. He gets up and hits your ass hard, making you jump and moan. Then he smiles, giving the video a thumbs up.

"Use a condom, kids." He says, ironically and playfully.

"You are so stupid." You say breathlessly, playfully rolling his eyes.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

❤️‍🔥can I request a number 17 from the smut prompts with Jack Hughes please, love your writing so much!

thank you sweet nonnie for not only complimenting my writing but also putting a players full name. 🫶🏻🥺

200 Followers Celebration

I also know Rutger is an hour from Newark but it's fan-fiction let's pretend the Newark campus is the main campus for the sake of this blurb. Please send in more requests this celebration is open till this Sunday. 💞💞

“Faster—ah shit—harder…”

Jack Hughes + alcohol + a slutty outfit = always equaled best orgasm.

Jack Hughes was someone who was more than a friend but less than a boyfriend. If someone asked to describe your relationship you would probably say something along the lines of "friends with benefits sometimes when convenient." Jack and you have had a weird complex relationship since you met him when you were freshly 18 and moved to New Jersey where you didn't know a single soul to go to Rutger University. He had just moved to New Jersey for the NHL, and somehow by fate you guys met. Both of became friends quickly, and that semester during your finals and his not so good rookie year, one night one of you (neither of you, years later now could tell you who) suggested to use sex as a stress relive.

Now years later, whenever one of you started talking to someone you would stop. But when both were single it wasn't uncommon to be in each-other's beds. Although when you went out to the club you were strictly "friends" until you made Jack jealous on purpose. It was the same pattern every time and if Jack has caught on, he's never said.

That's how it lead you to where you are right now, Jack grabbing you from the back holding your hips to his. Immediately your body felt at ease because it was him and also excitement in the pit of your stomach for what you knew was coming next. Jack didn't acknowledge the man in front of you both, instead he simply turned his head so his mouth could whisper in your ear. "If you think acting like a brat and flirting with some fuckboy in front of me. Who probably couldn't even find your clit if he had a fucking map will get you what you want when we get alone your wrong."

His words went straight to your core, making you push your legs together as discreetly as possible as Jack finally acknowledges the man in front of you both, but your too busy trying to get some relief you're not sure what words are exchanged nor do you care.

Next thing you know Jack is saying something about the Uber waiting for you both. The Uber ride despite 10 minutes, felt like an hour, as Jack couldn't stop himself from teasing you. His arm draped over the middle seat as he acted too busy talking to the driver while his fingers would ghost your exposed skin from your mini dress.

"jacky..." you whispered in a needy tone, not giving a fuck how you sounded to the driver due to how you felt.

Turning his head towards you, he said back "baby I'm talking to Isiah he's a fan." Leaning over the middle seat, his hand that's on your thigh gripping the flesh slightly. He whispered "after the stunt you pulled you can wait 10 minutes without acting like a needy little whore."

All you could do is nod to Jack's words, squeezing your eyes closed trying to control your breathing, as you could feel yourself dripping. Jack left a little kiss on your cheek, the driver thinking he was interrupting a sweet moment between the couple, little did he know the reality.

Finally making it back to his apartment, both of you thanked the driver as you exited the car. Jack grabbed your hand as he lead you into his building, he leaned down to your ear, his voice seething with authority. "Don't say a fucking word till we are in my apartment understand."

As soon we you step into the apartment, Jack picks you up, kissing you hard slamming you against the back of his front door. Pulling away, his mouth leaving little teasing bites down your down and collarbone. All you could do is moan in response, begging him to do more.

"naw naw naw now little one... who's in charge here?" he asked

"ya-- yoouu." you whimpered out.

"exactly and were gonna go at my rate. ya know tonight I was gonna give you whatever you wanted but then you had to go and be a fucking brat." almost spitting his words out in frustration at your actions early tonight. Taking his free hand that's not kneading your ass holding your jaw in place to look at him in the eyes.

"I don't know Jacky maybe he could fuck me better."

"oh now your gonna have it." As he takes the hand that was on your jaw, to unzip his pants and pull out his already hard cock. Going to rip your own underwear off only to discover you aren't wearing any. "your soaking wet, and you're not wearing anything."

"noo.. are you mad at me Jacky." you asked shyly.

"fuck" he whispered as he shoved his cock into you, barely giving you time to adjust to his size, before thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. Letting his body act before his brain could react rolling his hips faster as he heard you scream in pleasure.

"ahhh fuck - " he exclaimed.

"please - faster - " you begged. "ah shit - right there Jack fuck"

"yeah you like that babygirl" he grunted.

"hmmm" you whimpered. your nails definitely leaving marks on the back of his shoulders. "see how good I make you feel. no one gets to you like this. not that fucker at the bar, not your ex who couldn't make you cum, just me."

"ahhh harder.. yeah right there FUCK." You screamed as you both chased your own person highs.

"say it. who makes you feel this good?" taking his free hand and slightly chocking you.

"only you. no one else J" At your confession he quickened his pace even faster, both of you grunting and moaning in pleasure as you both reached your climaxes.

[universalitgirlsblog2]

💗LOVE , ME 1 💗

This is part 1 of my new series called Love, Me where we will learn how to develop self love .To develop self love , we must establish a relationship with ourself. In this post , I want to talk about how we should be our own biggest fan and best friend & realize that we are complete on our own.

There will be times in your life when no one will support you, not even your best friend , parents , siblings , teachers . It will feel as if the whole world is against you. But one person will be always there for you , no matter what. They will support you in depths of despair. That person is YOU. YOU WILL BE ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YOU !! YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU !! THE PERSON WHO WILL MANIFEST EVERYTHING FOR YOU & GIVE YOU YOUR DREAM LIFE & EVERYTHING YOU HAVE EVER WANTED IS NO ONE BUT YOU !!!! 💗🥿

It's very important to realize that we are always going to be there for us , so it's necessary to love ourselves & feel good about ourselves. We need to appreciate our own effort , we need to be our biggest support & friend. Sometimes there are situations where others are supporting us but we are our own worst enemy. As long as you continue to feel bad about yourself, you will be trapped in a negative spiral.

We need to support ourselves , we need to be always there for us . The problem isn't that others think that we are less , the problem is that we also think that we are less. For example , Elle woods was looked down upon by everyone, they thought that she was just another dumb blonde but she proved them wrong. She had unwavering self love & self belief . She didn't allow others negativity to affect herself. When you support yourself, it won't matter if others don't support you. If you know you are doing something right meaning something which will benefit you in future , then you should have faith in yourself. Having faith in yourself is supporting yourself.

You will always be there for you so you must invest in yourself- your education , self care , career etc. The sooner you understand this , the better.

We are complete on our own. We don't need someone to become whole whether it's a friendship or a relationship . If you realize that you are complete on your own , you will stop being desperate. Learn to enjoy your own company . Instead of craving compliments from others , compliment yourself. Look in the mirror & speak your affirmations. I would recommend you to watch Queen , I have also made post on Queen & English vinglish. Click here . These movies explain the importance of self love & being self independent really well.

In conclusion , love yourself & put yourself first since you were always there for yourself & will continue to be .

[unholyhelbig]

More firecrest pls & thank u

Title: Firecrest (Part 5/7)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: More bad parenting, Needles, shootings (guns and mention of death), discrimination, Politics (vaguely), and horrible grammar because we all know I don't proofread.

[A/n: Woo, okay, have finally gotten my bearings on a chapter count. Two more to go folks and then all of my attention will be focused on Fright Night!]

The bourbon burned uncomfortably when you swallowed it down in two gulps. The warmth swirled in your stomach and instantly went to your head. It was a dizzy feeling, one that replaced the despair that had settled in your bones. The oaky taste was appealing enough for you to tap the edge of the glass to signal for another.

The Rusty Nail was the definition of ‘dive-bar’, with its smoke-yellowed walls and torn booth seats that frothed with foam. The bartender had a stained towel over his shoulder and replaced the beer that was in front of a man at the other end of the bar, wordlessly.

A box television that had to be from at least the early 90’s was mounted on the corner of the wall. The news played through the speakers with a cracking static. There was roadwork in the majority of Brooklyn, and coat drives taking place at every middle school in the district.

What caught your hazy attention was a photo of Lance. His smile was intoxicating to the general public, and the graph that populated next to him with winning numbers confirmed this fact. He was pulling ahead astonishingly, and even through your misery, you felt a swell of pride.

“Get a load of that guy,” The bartender hissed under his breath.

“Not a fan?”

You’d heard everything under the sun about your step-father, pointedly ignoring the negative opinions in favor for the man that cooked fantastic blueberry pancakes. His campaign relied on dissolving what remained of the Sokovia accords, and removing the restrictions that were put on Inhumans.

For you, it was easy. While a deep and dark fire brewed within you, you still looked relatively normal. Of course, you went through your teenage phases of turmoil, just like everyone else. But, there were people out there who weren’t so lucky; Inhumans that were plagued with spikes covering their entire bodies, translucent skin that displayed the entirety of their innerworkings, or the rocks that engulfed you once, never falling away at all.

Still, with the small Inhuman marking on the edge of your license, it took three times as long to get through airport security, and renting an apartment hadn’t even been a possibility without your mother co-signing. The world still feared Inhumans, just as they feared the changes that came along with them.

It had been changing for years, and Lance wanted to push things just a little further. You held out hope, but immense love for the man who had helped raised you. Though, not everyone felt the same way. A good portion of citizens opposed the man with the golden smile and kind eyes because of his stance on Inhumans.

“He’s pretty don’t get me wrong. But his stance on those… freaks? Those accords are the only thing keeping our streets safe.”

“Oh?”

“You disagree?”

You took a tentative sip of your drink. You were bone-tired and not much into political talk. It was the middle of the night, and you had just felt the adhesive of your ‘fake-dating-band-aid” get ripped from your skin. It left a stinging discomfort behind.

You shrugged “I don’t think they’re hurting anyone.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes and scoffed. He took your empty glass and didn’t offer to refill it. He probably thought you were drunk, and while you were a little tipsy at best, your position on what you were, what so many people around you hid, stayed the same. It worried you, the target that Lance had on his back because of this.

“What about that shooting?”

“The one committed by a human?

This silenced him, though he wore his frown on his sleeve. It had been so quick, blasted all over the news. A father of a teenager had walked into the pizza place where his son worked and opened fire. He’d found out earlier in the day, that his son was an Inhuman, exposed to the same chemicals you were. Three people died, including the shooter, but it was spun in a way that was unforgiveable.

You held you tongue, instead, throwing your money on the counter. You’d come here to get away from the chaos of your own mind. It had dulled the anxieties to an extent, but what was taken away was soon replaced with annoyance.

Your apartment was, of course, empty upon your return. Keys were set on the end table by the door and you flicked on the nearest light so you could avoid the furniture that you thought about moving every single day. It was lonely here. Cold in a way that went beyond a thermostat.

Sleeping was well out of the question, so you skimmed the bookshelf placed on the far side of the room and grabbed the piece of literature that was most appealing. You saw no point in keeping books that didn’t pull you in within the first hundred pages, but there was a staple few that you kept no matter what.

You’d picked up a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. You thumbed through the pages, letting it fan the sharp sourness of old paper. The last time you’d read it, you only made it halfway through, and the makeshift bookmark that fell out landed on your lap.

You abandoned the book as quickly as you picked it up in favor for the page marker. It was an old, folded photo. As if pouring salt into the wound, it was one of the only known photos of you and Kate together. Her smile beamed at the camera, one arm around your shoulder and the other holding up the middle finger. 

The two of you were standing on the docks at rented cabin that your families shared. Usually, you didn’t run into the Bishops, but one fateful year, your leisure time had aligned. Eleanor wanted to take a nice photo. You never knew if it was for the masses, or for her own pleasure, but Kate ruined every single shot with her shit-eating grin and obscene gestures.

It had been creased right down the middle, a sloppy split in the glossed parchment. A tear had dripped from your chin and landed on the edge, your throat suddenly tight. You didn’t bother wiping them away, or picking up the discarded copy of Pride and Prejudice when it hit the carpet with an undignified thump.

You were sobbing by the time you decided to fold the photo back up. That was as far as you had gotten, really. Slumped back in a worn loveseat and letting the tears that had been building all day well-up and soak your collar. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and your chest ached fiercely.

It angered you, that all of this was about Kate Bishop, of all people.

It should be Clint that brought on the wealth of emotions. And in a way, it was. It had always been. The archer had discarded you as a young child, and you supposed you should be thankful for that. You were privileged, especially compared to the poor boy in the pizza shop. But the scars still lingered horribly.

You landed softly, and most of that had been because of Kate. The anger and distress that came with the situation was always dampened by her stormy eyes and her pension for doing good. It rebelled against the Bishop protocol and after a long while, you realized she was different. Kinder. Clumsier. More dedicated.

She knew what she wanted, just as well as she knew what you needed. In moments of anger, she’d distract you with her innate ability to drive you crazy with competition. In panic, she had a softer touch that soothed you into extinguishing volatile flames.

Sleeping with her had been a bad idea. You knew if from the start, but preened at her deeper attention, at the way her hands felt against you, breath fanning warmly across your cheeks and then your chest. For her, you were a release. For you, she was everything.

You were in love, with Kate, mother fucking, Bishop.

It weighed your shoulders down, labored your breathing. But strangely, you felt no flames. The warmth that usually accompanied strong emotions such as these wasn’t there. For the first time, in a long time, you succumbed to sadness. Just sadness.

The cobalt of Kate’s dress illuminated the blue ringlets in her iris’s. They caught the light of the chandelier in the lobby. They were crystal, hanging low but secured tightly to the ceiling. Almost as tight as the dress that Kate wore.

You were clad in a tailored suit, loosely buttoned black fabric a lace corset that matched the cobalt of Kate’s cocktail dress. She’d sent you the color combination in a single word text. Blue. And you’d followed her instructions perfectly, matching her wavelength like always.

For extra measure, you put on a dainty stainless steel arrow necklace. It showed commitment, it was just short of showing your misery. Kate’s eyes canned from your toes to your own stare and you barely suppressed the shivers that came with her scrutiny.

She figured it would be better to face this on a united front and arrive together. She let out a quiet huff of indignance and folded her arm enough for you to loop your own through it. Her warmth, her comfort, no matter how scarce, was overwhelming and threatened to bring back the tears.

That wasn’t what tonight was about. Tonight was about having a united front, about being endlessly in love to make your parents uncomfortable. You weren’t quite sure what Kate was getting out of this and she wasn’t about to tell you either.

The elevator ride up was uncomfortable. She’d never been this quiet for this long before.

“Kate,”

“No.” She clenched her jaw, voice a low whisper despite it only being the two of you and the slowly climbing lift. “For once, y/n, don’t say a word.”

Your eyes met hers in the reflective paneling and you gave her a small nod. The silence had suddenly become heavier, deeper. Your hand curled up in your jacket pocket before you diverted your gaze. The only mercy was the elevator reaching the penthouse, a muffled ‘ding’ proceeding the doors sliding open to her foyer.

The archer had pulled her shoulders back and had a soft smile on her face. There was a sadness behind her eyes that anyone else would have to dig for, but you could see it from a mile away. She was hurting as much as you were but wasn’t going to show it.

You did just the same, working the tension from your features as the scent of lamb coated your lungs and made your stomach clench. You’d always hated the dish, but it was a staple of the Bishop family chef so you powered through it every time.

She smoothed her hand over your jacket sleeve as the two of you stepped out of the elevator. It almost scared you how perfectly she fit into this role. It was the flip of a switch. You were uncomfortable with the thought of it being in your favor. You couldn’t feel the love behind her gestures, because they were just that. Gestures.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Ready.” You replied.

The mechanical whir of the elevator had attracted the attention of those who had already arrived. You’d been in Kate’s house once or twice, enough to count on only one hand. But, you knew the layout fairly well. Her apartment was open concept, and this had a million intersecting walls and corridors.

The two of you passed the dining room and entered something you could only describe as a sitting room, maybe a study with the large oak bookshelves, dusty and untouched. The walls were a Spanish moss green and the hardwood covered by an oriental rug.

Eleanor wore a blood red dress, and Jack had a matching silk pocket square. Clint was the only one that stood out among all of you. He wore a nice dress shirt that was tucked into black pants, he looked cleanly pressed and perfect for a Bishop dinner party.

He held a glass of whiskey, and Jack was pouring one more. He gave you a beaming, and wholly innocent smile, his mustache lifting at the sides. “Miss Morse! Katie!”

You felt Kate stiffen next to you at the name, her jaw clenching. Instinctively, your hand covered hers, thumb ghosting over the scarring on her knuckles. Her shoulders seemed to lower, and that breath smelled of the familiar wintergreen.

“Darling,” Eleanor moved forward and placed phantom kisses against both of Kate’s cheeks before moving to do the same with you. “Let me get a good look at you both.”

“Mom, you’ve seen us before.”

“Not like this. It’s different. Before it was just rumors, and speculation. Annoying, isn’t it? But now, we can spin this anyway we want to.”

Kate gave her mother a tight smile. “We’re not a press opportunity”

“Not so easy to say when you’ve already been all the press can talk about.” She shrugged and took the glass from Jacks hand. “You know, at first, I thought this was horrible. But people seem to like you both.”

There was something on the tip of her tongue that wanted to escape. A God Know’s why or a couldn’t be me. But she said neither and an uncomfortable silence fell over you all. Kate subconsciously tightened her fingers against your arm once more, and the pressure was nearly soothing.

Your eyes met Clint’s across the room, and you got hit with the familiar feeling of your world tilting in a nauseating way. He offered up a small smile, the only one he could muster within these last few chaotic weeks.

He waved at Kate, not enthusiastically, a neutral and awkward expression of affection. Kate let out a long breath, retracting her arm and similarly placing her hand on the small of your back. She needed a grounding technique, just as much as you did.

Eleanor sensed the tension and announced that it was time for dinner. The scent of the lamb came rolling back in crashing waves. Upon entering the dining room, you were positive that the woman hadn’t cooked this meal herself.

A linin table cloth was punctuated with candles, bathing the room in a dull yellow light. There were different platters piled with dripping meat, and steaming mashed potatoes. Glasses of red wine rested next to the salads situated on gold plating.

Fire crackled within the large stone hearth that you’d never seen lit. It seemed almost directed, sitting in front of the warm, smoldering flames. Across from you was Eleanor and Jack, Clint right in between them. Jack seemed particularly fond of the man, similarly entrapped by his accomplishments as the rest of the world.

“Everyone, dig in” Eleanor prompted “No need to be so formal.”

“Right,” Kate cleared her throat, picking up fork and chasing a cherry tomato with the prongs. “How is everyone?”

You winced at the pathetic attempt at small talk, staring down at your own wilted greens. It was a valiant effort that was promptly ignored by everyone else at the table.

“Y/n, why don’t you tell us more about yourself?” Eleanor asked.

Kate gave you a look that intimately read as you don’t have to entertain her. “You know all about Y/n. We grew up together.”

“From fifth grade onward. I remember when your mom enrolled you. You kept deliberately ripping your uniform until she agreed to pants. Same thing happened with Katherine. But now that you and my daughter are involved, I’d like to know more.”

She took a sip of her wine, and your fingers brushed over the glass base of your own glass. But you didn’t pick it up. You’d decided last night, sometime between showering off the scum of the dive-bar and propping a window in your apartment to get some fresh air, that you needed a clear head for something like this.

You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, what would you like to know?”

“Where you grew up!” Jack cut in fantastically, talking around a mouth full of vegetation, waving his fork around like a madman “Your favorite color, if you have any pets!”

Your stare flicked to Clint, but he was staring down at his untouched food. He didn’t know the answer to any of these questions and the stinging bile that threatened to push past your lips was instantly swallowed back down in favor of your dignity.

“I moved around a lot as a kid, my mom traveled for work a lot so we were never in one place for too long. Amsterdam, Delhi, Perth. The best place though, was a small desert town in Arizona. There weren’t many people there and it could get to about a hundred degrees by the time the sun was at it’s highest point. But it was peaceful, and beautiful.”

Clint was watching you carefully now. He’d been there too. It was one of the last places you’d traveled together as a family. There was a small strip of old wooden structures that reminded you of the wild west, cutting through the orange of the desert. Murals were painted against the rocky structures, writhing snakes, swallowing the sun, and fire shimmering over it’s scales.

It was captivating during the day, but even better at night. It was the clearest you had ever seen the stars. Blankets of twinkling constellations and milky ways that you’d never seen before. Your neck started to ache from staring up at it for so long, and it was Clint who had laid a blanket in the bed of his truck and laid next to you to view them.

He’d taught you about the different formations, and of course, his favorite, the Sagittarius. An archer that sacrificed his own mortality for the sake of his sons. It seemed ironic now. But then, it had made you feel like the most important girl in the world.

“A dusty old desert town over the streets of Amsterdam?” Eleanor seemed to find amusement in this, piercing a slice of carrot with the prongs of her fork. It gave a satisfying snap. “Interesting.”

“It was peaceful” You shrugged, finally giving in and taking a warm sip of wine. “The last time we were together as a family.”

“Is that right?”

Eleanor was enjoying herself too much and Kate’s hand nervously went to the charm around her own neck. You hadn’t noticed it before, trying to be respectful. Trying not to let your eyes wander during an irreparable time.

She looked best in gold and knew that from a young age. The chain was dainty, and the pendant was a whisp of a flame. It made your mouth go dry and you wondered if it was a conscious decision, just like the one you had made to grab the only necklace with an arrow.

“I remember that place.” Clint spoke up for the first time. “It was called Chloride. Weird name for a town.”

You were too transfixed on Kate’s fingers running over the curvature of the necklace to care. Her cheeks took on a red tint in the glow of the candles. She removed her hand and found yours on top of the table. It was damp, but a solid force.

“You were afraid of scorpions in your shoes and made me and your mom check and double check them before you even thought of putting them on. You usually went barefoot, which was more dangerous than just wearing the shoes.”

“Is this your idea of an olive branch?”

The words left your mouth without thinking, and they were pumped with venom. You couldn’t help it. Your stomach was already rolling unsteadily and his words, though soaked with kindness, were far from merited. Kate’s mother sat back with an almost giddy look on her face. She’d been expecting this.

Kate tightened her grip inadvertently, and you could feel the small sting of her nails carving crescents into your palm. You wholly expected her gaze to be narrowed at you, but it was transfixed on Clint. There was a hardness there that she had harbored for you earlier in the week.

You let out a strangled breath and stared down at your salad. It wasn’t worth it. None of this felt worth it. In a strange way, you were absolutely defeated, and the wilted lettuce was much more interesting than satisfying Eleanor Bishop’s sick need for chaos.

“No. of course not.” His expression betrayed a sadness that pulled uncomfortably at your chest. “Just a memory, is all.”

“Do you know what I remember?”

Kate rumbled softly, a noise that was every bit the warning to you. Let it go. She worried incessantly about the fire under your fingertips. Possibly more than yourself in moments like these. But there was no itching beneath your skin. For once, it was just a storm of sorrow. Sweat was forming on your brow and Kate’s grip shifted to your wrist, finger pressed plainly to your pulse.

“The look in your eyes when you walked away. I was just a kid, but that was the first time I ever learned about betrayal. For months, Clint, months I would sit by the window and wait for you to come back. It didn’t matter where we were, what country, what city, I would wait. I was certain that you would find us and we could be a family again.”

He clenched his knife and fork on either side of his plate, his knuckles turning a sickly type of white that nearly echoed yellow, his whisper was broken. “I’m… sorry. I understand that you need someone to blame, kid.”

“Blame?” You let out a dry laugh, standing with enough force to push the chair back with a strangled screech. “You think this is about blame? That’s a simple emotion to work through. This is about which one of you was willing to stick around when things got hard, and which one of you ran to a new family.”

The silence was deafening. Eleanor lifted her wine glass and hid her vicious smirk behind the seductive red liquid. Jack had directed his tender stare to Kate, no-doubt deciding then and there to be a good stepfather for more than a few moments at a time.

You sucked in a heavy breath before shaking your head and leaving the room. It wasn’t difficult to navigate the Bishop penthouse, with it’s dark open-concept layout. You needed air. It was much too hot in the dining room and you’d begun to sweat through your layers of clothing.

The balcony connected to the family room lacked decoration. It was a stone ledge that caught the cold drafts of high winds, drying the sweat against your skin instantly. You swallowed enough frigid air to burn your throat, but the tears refused to come. You couldn’t cry anymore.

Your head hung over the edge of the balcony, a strange dizziness washing over you as you stared down at the passing traffic, hundreds of unblinking eyes that lit up the night. You wish you had the foresight to grab the glass of wine, or something stronger from Jacks secret stash.

The temperature had dropped significantly by the time you heard the sliding glass door open. You didn’t bother turning around. Not with the subtle evergreen scent. “Tell Eleanor I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”

“Ruining?” Kate chuckled softly. Warmth engulfed you as she draped a blanket over your shoulders. You grasped the frayed edges out of habit and tugged it closely around you. “She lives for the drama of it all. She expected this, I think you’ve actually made her year.”

She leaned against the balcony, letting her hands hang over the edge. She looked ethereal in the moonlight, pale and beautiful. The tell-tale anger that had been etched into her features earlier was surrendered. You caught the glint of her bracelet and nervously brought your own hand up to the cool arrow charm that rested against your collarbone.

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it? Waiting for someone to apologize?”

The corner of your lips lifted into a smile. “Very subtle, Katie.”

“I’m giving you an opening here.”

You sighed heavily and turned just enough to get a better look at her. She always knocked the breath out of you in an almost cruel way. Her eyes held a tenderness that was unmatched. She was patient with you, just like she had always been.

“This entire time, I’ve been chasing after an apology from Clint., one that he’s too proud to give. It’s easy to be consumed by something like that, but that’s no excuse to hurt you in the process.” You swallowed heavily, trying to curb the dryness in your throat.

You couldn’t look at her. The mere sight of the curve of her jaw, the softness of her demeanor despite her deep seeded anger, would be too much. Kate effectively knocked you off your feet every single time she spared you a glance. If you were going to get this out in the open, you’d much rather stare at the traffic below.

 “Katie, I can’t begin to describe how much you mean to me. We’ve always had this unspoken rivalry and for the longest time I couldn’t figure it out. Why couldn’t we both just be good at the same things without vying against one another?”  

You let out a wounded sigh, fingers digging into the stone balcony. “I never understood why I wanted to beat you so badly, and I don’t know where along the way that changed. But I’ve realized recently that it was never about beating you. It was about making you proud.”

Her breath had caught, a subtle noise that you noticed due to proximity. Her hand was atop yours, much like it was at dinner, somehow warmer than your own. She didn’t say anything, and you didn’t lift your gaze to meet hers. Your cheeks were enflamed with blush that you could blame on the two sips of wine you had.

“Deep down, I’ve always known that I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss at archery camp. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I was doing more damage hiding it from you than putting it out there. You have to understand, Katie, I never meant to hurt you the other day. I’m just so used to burying it down, to keeping my emotions stifled for the greater good, that I didn’t know what to say… how to say it.”

She was rendered speechless herself and you could feel your vision start to blur at the edges, the lights from lines of city traffic suddenly fuzzy. You were never a fan of heights, but the sudden sloppy confession was much more daunting than the prospect of falling thirty stories.

“Oh,” Kate rasped.

You clenched your eyes shut until you saw stars. She’d never been a girl of little words, and you felt your heart rate increase. It pounded listlessly, preparing for rejection that you knew typically followed her silence.

None of that came, however, instead was the slightest pinprick against the side of your neck. You would have figured it nothing more than a mosquito if the weather hadn’t taken an icy turn. But this was different, this alerted your senses in one fail swoop.

Your eyes snapped open and narrowed at Kate in time to register the emptying of the syringe she’d pushed past your skin. A sickly green liquid that already stung terribly as it started to pulse through your veins.

“A lovely sentiment, I’m sure.” She pouted in a mocking way, lilting her head to the side as she pulled the needle from the side of your neck. Your fingers pressed against the area to quell the foreign sensation.

You were suddenly incredibly dizzy, the pulsing of your vision matching with the frantic beating of your heart. You were losing strength quickly, clinging to the stone balcony for some type of solace. You fell all the same, collapsed at its corner with quick breaths of panic.

Kate was suddenly crouched in front of you. She lifted your chin until you could stare into her eyes. They were cold, emotionless. “Maybe one day, you’ll be able to tell her.”

Her thumb brushed lightly over your cheek. It was so familiar, yet incredibly foreign. Your thoughts were muddled, non-existent as the heavy sensation took over. She seemed to revel in your confusion, in the pain that she’d so easily inflicted.

Kate’s disconnected stare was the last thing you saw before darkness swallowed you whole in an odd type of comfort, the world ceased to flicker, like the edges of a flame.

Tag List💕: @noturlondonboy, @slvtformaria, @pianogirl2121, @escapereality4music, @cyberbonesworld, @dark-hunter16

[four-loose-screws]

Hi! I’ve seen people people say that Dimitri speaks in an informal rude manner in Japanese so him being super polite in English is weird changes his character a lot, but I’ve also seen people say the localization is just fine. Could you clear up please? Thank you!

This ask has been in my inbox forever, and I know other ENG/JP bilingual FE fans have weighed in on this topic before. But exploring the nuances of Japanese formal vs. casual speech is always super fun, so I want to share my own thoughts too. There's always a chance there will be more to learn with each new person's input on the same topic. Plus, I discovered some things even I didn't expect! So, I'll still offer everything I have to say!

First, I'll explain the full background this ask is referring to. Japanese has 2 major distinct speaking styles - casual and formal. I was taught to call the formal style "distal" - because it is more about respecting distance in social standing than being formal specifically. But formal is the more common term, so I tend to stick with saying formal most of the time.

The distinction between casual and formal is made with pronoun choice, word choice, and other factors as well, but the fastest way to differentiate the two is to look/ listen for the use of desu and masu at the end of someone's sentences. Formal uses them. Casual drops them. This concept is entirely foreign to English speakers!

Dimitri drops desu and masu most of the time. His "I pronoun" is also ore, and his "you pronoun" is omae - both casual, blunt, and masculine choices. But does speaking casually to most of the cast make him rude?

Short answer is... no, not at all! There's 2 major reasons for this.

Reason #1 - the rules for casual vs. formal speech are a bit different in reality vs. fiction:

Partially, Dimitri speaks casually because he is showing his personality. He's got all those traits most standard FE protagonists share - he's strong, straightforward, and wants to connect directly on a personal level with everyone he meets. He tries to convince several characters that they can speak casually with him, because he sees people as people, and doesn't want social status putting distance between them.

Fictional characters generally speak more in-line with their personality more often, rather than following the socially acceptable speaking rules of the real world. (Though don't get me wrong - casual real Japanese people will speak casually in more circumstances than the average Japanese person.) This is simply the style that Japanese writers largely choose. And I think it is one of the great benefits of Japanese - anyone can start to pick up on a character's personality archetype almost instantly, thanks to their speaking style!

Reason #2 - Dimitri is a prince, making him of high social rank:

Here's the second nuance to this - it is absolutely standard for a superior to talk to their subordinates in casual style.

In modern times, this is shown in the workplace. Bosses and those in other leadership positions will frequently speak casually with the staff in a lower-ranking position than them. The president of the office I now work at is Japanese, and he speaks very casually with me - I have to be formal in response though, because he's at the top!!

But in the past, this would have been a distinction made between lord/ royalty, and those beneath them. Which is the case that is relevant in Fire Emblem's setting.

Dimitri can also speak casually without coming off as rude, because he is one of the highest ranking people across all of Fodlan.

-

Okay, so that's the answer in broad strokes - but let's get a bit more nuanced, go down Dimitri's support partner list, and confirm whether or not he always speaks casually!

Group #1 - Dimitri and the other citizens of Faerghus (8 other Blue Lions + Gilbert)

Dimitri has a multi-layered relationship with all of the other 8 Blue Lions. They are citizens of the country he is a prince of, therefore he is ranked very highly in social standing above them. But they are also his friends, classmates, and later, war allies; placing them on the same social level in that regard. So the way they speak to him comes down to a little bit of column A - personality, and a little bit of column B - which aspect of their relationship with Dimitri they feel is the "main" one.

Gilbert is also here in this category, as another person from Faerghus.

Dedue: Dimitri speaks casually, Dedue speaks formally, as they have a lord/ servant relationship. Dimitri wants Dedue to be a very close friend to him though, and wants Dedue to speak casually with him - this is a major source of tension in their supports. In the end, being able to mutually speak casually with each other and be friends, is a place they may reach one day. With other characters, Dedue speaks casually.

Felix: As royalty above Felix's noble house, Dimitri speaks casually. Felix is Felix, so he speaks casually too. I imagine he sees Dimitri quite literally as more of a wild boar than a human being, much less royalty.

Ashe: Dimitri speaks casually, Ashe speaks formally. However, pretty much the whole point of their supports is Dimitri attempting to get Ashe to speak casually with him.. Ashe tries in earnest to switch, but in the end sticks with speaking formally, otherwise he feels too uncomfortable. His view of Dimitri as his prince is too strong for him to let go and speak casually.

Sylvain: Dimitri speaks casually, and Sylvain speaks casually more often, but actually switches to desu and masu more than once. When a relationship is "in-between" higher/lower social standing and friendship, it's not uncommon for at least one person to switch back and forth between casual and polite speech, depending on which side of the relationship they are appealing to more at the moment. This happens in real life too as people shift from strangers, coworkers, etc. to friends.

Mercedes: They both speak casually. In Mercedes' case, I think she's speaks more in-line with her personality rather than paying attention to social status.

Annette: Both speak casually, but Annette is well aware that there's something a little wrong with that - her father would never let her get away with it if he knew!

Ingrid: Dimitri speaks casually, Ingrid speaks formally. But I think Ingrid speaks formally with everyone.

Gilbert: As you can probably guess based on my comments in Dimitri and Annette's analysis, her father most certainly speaks formally with Dimitri! He is very formal and takes social heirarchy very seriously. Dimitri, as the prince above him in social status, speaks casually.

Group #2 - The other characters at the monastary:

Since the remaining characters are not from Faerghus, Dimitri is not their prince. They'll be more likely to view him through the lens of a different relationship than royalty/ subject.

Catherine is originally from Faerghus yes, but she has cut her ties from her homeland completely to serve Rhea, so she fits into this group now.

Raphael: Both speak casually. I think Raphael treats everyone like a life-long friend!! He at least attaches san or sensei (teacher) to the names of his instructors, but that's about it for formal language for him.

Marianne: Dimitri speaks casually. Marianne speaks formally, as she does with everyone. I think she even attaches san to everyone's name, conveying how much she keeps her distance from people, trying not to form close relationships.

Flayn: Dimitri speaks casually. Flayn speaks formally, as I think she does with everyone.

Hapi: Both speak casually. I think Hapi speaks casually with everyone.

Alois: Now *here's* where things get interesting! At this point, I really thought I would discover that Dimitri speaks casually with everyone. But alas, he does NOT! Dimitri speaks formally with Alois, while Alois speaks casually to him. Why? Well, while Dimitri is a prince, he's also a student at Garreg Mach (in Part 1 of course). In this way, he is below all Garreg Mach staff and professors in social standing. So it makes perfect sense that he'd speak formally and Alois would be casual in this case.

Catherine: Same situation as Dimitri and Alois - as someone who serves as an instructor at Garreg Mach, all students like Dimitri are below her in status at the monastary. So Dimitri speaks formally, and she speaks casually.

Byleth: I left Byleth for last, because while Byleth is a professor at the monastary... Dimitri speaks casually with them. I imagine this has more to do with Byleth being the self insert than anything. Everyone bonds to Byleth on a deep level faster than magnets stick together.

And that's all I can think of to say for now! This is a super fun example of how nuanced Japanese's casual vs. formal language can get, and showcases one of the many reasons why Japanese has such a high barrier of entry for anyone learning it - including young native speakers! You don't get all this desu and masu stuff, until finally you just do.

Let me know if I missed anything, or if anyone has any follow up comments to make!

I apologize it took me so long to respond to this one! Thank you anon, and all readers, for waiting! I hope it helped explain even more of the trickier nuances of Japanese.

[greyyson-but-no]

hey guys heres a couple reasons I don't like taylor swift and maybe yous should consider your own opinions on her, no enforcement, just a suggestion

Being a billionaire will never not be bad for the economy (The Eras Tour is expected to make around $2 billion by the end of it so there is no denying her being a billionaire now).

She brands herself as someone that completely build her own fame from nothing - this is not true both her parents were extremely wealthy which meant that she had the ability to fly weekly to NYC to get singing and acting lessons and was working with a talent manager at the age of fourteen. She could not be at the level of fame she is at today if it were not for that but she brands herself as if that is the case. The issue is not with her actually coming from money but that she brands herself as someone that isn't — it creates a fake sense of security for her young fans that believe they can do the same.

She takes the worship she recieves from her fans and (for lake of hetter word) uses it against other artists and communities to attack them through the way she advertises her new music and speaks about them in other songs. This is not me saying that those other artists are perfect either (eg the kanye situation), but instead that this sentiment creates further uneccessary drama which she uses to boost her fame and popularity.

Taylor Swift only speaks up about certainly world issues when it benefits her. She hasn't spoken up about the genocide in Palestine at the moment, it took her 21 years into her career to collaberate with a woman of colour and she is clearly the poster girl for White Feminism. Not only this, but dating Matty Healy of 1975 is proof of that. He is an extremely racist, xenophobic and generally controversial person, and since Taylor once stated "i want to be know by what i love", those same attributes can automatically be associated with her.

The Eras Tour that has been completed so far is only a small amount of her carbon emissions (the first leg of the tour ended with 139 tons of CO2) and that isn't including the equipment being transported and her individual trips to run errands and see her boyfriend three times a week. Her buying carbon credits does nothing, carbon credits will not rid the world of the CO2 she has emitted and in fact only pay governments to 'support the reduce, reuse, recycle' project which we all know is not where that money actually goes. Recently, she flew 30 miles and don't give me the 'its easier and quicker' argument, thats equivalent to a 20 minute drive.

Calling her a lesbian/queer icon is just completely wrong and doesn't work in any circumstance with her. She is openly straight and has never even been open to questioning her sexuality or gender at all. Just because she released 'you need to calm down' during a time of queer peril, doesn't make her a queer icon. In fact, there are many other lesbian artists that are either growing in popularity or have the potential to, and giving that title to her brings down actual queer artists and their opportunities.

"Tortured Poets Department"? Are we even serious at this point? Who exactly here is tortured because its certainly not the white straight billionaire, that's for sure. Having a song that basically says it was okay you dated a racist because you were 'heartbroken' is not okay. To have little digs at Joe and him being depressed using the excuse that he broke your heart is not okay. Using metaphors that link to you being in an insane asylum is not okay. Insane asylums were extremely torturous places to be and there is no moral decision in comparing the music industry to a place with that much terror and injustice.

here I have only spoken about two of her partners in a passing mention, there is much more that I could add to on these subjects but I've decided not to because I don't think they hold the same weight the points I've already made have. this will probably be edited and added to in the future.

I'd like to emphasise this is not me forcing swifties to completely turn on her and hate her and everything she does. all I am doing by posting this information is allowing people to make their own educated decisions on how they go about interacting with taylor swift and her community however they deem fit. personally I have her removed on spotify because that is a decision I have made. my decision.

it wasn't easy for my either. a lot of songs of hers I associated with my grandad who recently passed, which meant having stop listening to her music lead to a big part of mine and his bond was erased, but that is again, a decision that I have made. her negative impact on the world, the music industry at the media is just too much for me to defend. again, I will reiterate that is my opinion and my decision, what you guys decides to do effects me just as little as what I decide effects you.

[sitpwgs]

I truly can’t pinpoint when/what exactly changed about Taylor’s fans/fandom but the last few years (especially the midnights release) has really soured things for me and it’s honestly quite disappointing as someone who genuinely enjoys her music and thinks she’s a great artists. how did we get to the point of not even being able to voice an opinion about taylor without being crucified online. or if heaven forbid you dislike a song/album or enjoy the work of one of her exes (john mayer, the 1975, calvin harris, etc)

i’ve always been very fascinated/intrigued by the relationship between celebrities and their fans. and i think it’s really interesting to look back and think about how taylor built her fanbase by making herself as palatable/relatable/approachable as possible. like secret sessions, t party/loft 89/rep room, swiftmas, lover diaries, etc — all of which allow for fan interaction — but also relies on people getting noticed which then in turn encourages people to be as vocal? extra? whatever it is. which then feeds into the "who is a bigger / better fan" competition. i'm speaking from personal experience here, as someone who has liked her since debut — but i think a lot of this is also rooted in how much of the world hated taylor swift prior to ... i want to say folklore, really — like it was deeply uncool to like taylor swift, to be a swiftie, etc. and because a lot of that early criticism was rooted so much in misogyny, i think fans felt the need to (over the years) defend her — and i was one of those! i still am, when i feel like people are criticizing her unfairly. but i think that lends into the "taylor swift has never done anything wrong, and she's perfect and if you disagree then you're against us and you're a fake fan" mentality.

and then i think there's an element of ... not necessarily a superiority complex, but a something among fans who have met taylor. it's a genius marketing move, intentions aside. taylor's music is very personal — and taylor's marketing, and persona is very personal, in a way that other artists prior to taylor weren't, i think. relatability sells. you can see it in the way that people talk about her, and her music. which is very different from the way people talk about other artists — and obviously there isn't anyone else out there with the amount of fame/popularity as her, but you don't see the same amount of fanfiction-writing personal-life-speculating-projection onto other artists' lyrics as you do with taylor. and i think that when someone is that vulnerable with their thoughts, it makes it easy for people to think that they know them personally.

and i think that — as much as i love taylor — it's important to talk about her white woman feminism mentality. and i think that also seeps into how her fanbase interacts with her. the ginny & georgia "joke" is what comes to mind the quickest, but there are countless instances of taylor's white woman feminism — and her benefiting from it. and obviously it was in her right to call out a misogynistic comment, especially one directed at her, but not saying anything when the actress got so much hate for a line she didn't write ... made me feel a bit 🥴. it's interesting to see who taylor will choose to align herself with, i guess is all i'm saying.

i've really taken a step back from taylor — not just because the fandom is exhausting ( the amount of things i've seen about her, joe, travis, etc. is ... something! it's all projection! we do not know anything about these people other than what they choose to show us! ) but also because of her saying that she wanted to be on the right side of history and then over and over again choosing to be increasingly passive and silent. she will call herself an ally but won’t even talk about queer rights; she won’t talk about the literal genocide that’s going on. gun control, abortion rights, anything at all. it's just "go vote" but even that is incredibly passive. but she will take time to remind us to buy new variants, and to stream her music, and that her ex sucks.

i think there was a huge shift that started with folklore/evermore, just given that there weren't a lot of albums being put out during that time, the overwhelming public reception to it — a lot of people who previously didn't care for (or disliked) taylor started to like her, to give her a second chance, etc. then we get into the rerecordings era/midnights/etc., which started off with fearless and nostalgia and then became "how quickly can i put out the next thing". and bailey @placeinthisworld posted this earlier, which i fully agree with. it's about the next award, the next milestone. it's just all quantity. it's overexposure.

and then we have the joe alwyn breakup and the public response to that was also ... interesting. like i saw people crying over it, or saying that love is a lie, removing things from their playlists, acting like they were the ones who had been broken up with. which is just ... odd, given that we aren't the ones in the relationship. and now there are all these comments about being a "joe defender". and then with taylor dating travis, it feels almost like some weird american pipe dream unfulfilled fantasy for so many people — the singer and the american football player. and obviously, i want her to be happy! i don't care who she dates! but i do think the public reception about her and travis has been ... incredibly odd, and i think that the way people talk about her and travis is just ... very ... off-putting and is very rooted in some weird ... stuff. "she finally gets to be small :(((((" is such a weird thing to say. it feels like there's even more projection and self-insert-y stuff with her dating travis, which is a level i did not think was possible from her fans (and more so, the general public).

i have not felt this ... detached and impassive about a taylor release, ever, and it just makes me incredibly sad because i love her music, and am excited about the work, just not excited about the public reception, the public autopsy of her and joe's relationship, or the noise, and i know that internet spaces (and spaces in general) are what we curate, but it's also difficult when she is everywhere.

[schildpadkneus]

Since there is a lot of misinformation when it comes to the "incident" that got Joost Klein disqualified I figured I'd put a post out with information from actual news outlets and not speculations from social media users.

If you are too lazy to read everything, here's a summary of everything I've been able to find:

After his performance in the semi finale, Joost was filmed despite agreements he wouldn't be.

The camera woman did not listen when he asked her to stop several times.

Joost got angry and made the camera woman in question feel so threatened the police was called on Joost.

Despite what fans think, it was confirmed by Dutch commentator Cornald Maas that the Israeli act and their delegation were not involved. I understand the frustration with their participation and I ranted about their disgusting behaviour at Eurovision here, but they were not involved with this incident.

He did not hit or even touch the woman involved.

Nor did she make any remarks about his parents.

STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION.

Continue to read for more details.

Edited only for later addition (as indicated) and slightly changed the wording because I was rambling in the initial post.

According to Avrotros (the Dutch broadcaster of Eurovision), Joost had made a threatening motion towards the woman.

According to the Swedish Aftonbladet, multiple witnesses say he behaved very aggressively and damaged/broke(?) the camera.

The rest of this will be speculating. Hopefully as unbiased as possible.

Based on other interviews and discussions about the incident in Dutch media, it sounds like Joost was probably just very overwhelmed. It is reasonable to think the artists are under a lot of pressure to perform well, and it's fair to conclude the controversy of Israel's participation has only added to artists' frustration and the pressure. Add the whole aspect of this being Joost's childhood dream and the passing of his parents and the fact he had already complained about the many many rules of eurovision and you get this explosion of emotions and frustrations. Apparently he also gets very emotional during the outro, and I imagine such a performance does come with loads of adrenaline.

Considering that nice little cocktail of stress, frustrations, emotions and adrenaline, it is likely he just snapped. He was already on the edge, and then the employee filmed him when he didn't want to be filmed and didn't back off when he asked her to, so he did something stupid and irrational.

That is a human response, I don't think he's a bad person for that, I just think he did something stupid in the heat of the moment. If it was something really bad he would've been arrested and locked up, so I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. That does not mean he should go unpunished, however.

Whatever he did, he made this photographer/camera woman (sources alternate between which one it was) feel so threatened the police got involved. I trust this judgement.

Don't get me wrong, I do think she should have stopped filming when she was asked, but we don't know the full story here. She could have misunderstood the situation, maybe she was unaware of the agreement she should not have been filming him, maybe it was just a stupid mistake.

Regardless of what truly happened, I hope we can all agree both were in the wrong but both have also been punished enough now.

The employee in question should not have been filming in the first place and stopped when asked.

Joost should not have done whatever it was he did.

For the love of god, please stop meddling in situations we know virtually nothing about and definitely stop taking sides. It is never ok to wish horrible things upon anyone.

We don't know what happened and chances are we will never fully know. We don't even know any of these people, we don't know what they are like, we only have little bits and pieces.

I also really want to know but it's not that difficult to just shut up and not say anything in favour of or against anyone until we have more details. You can condemn people for their actions but not when we don't even know what those actions were.

They both should have been punished and they both were.

A bunch of you should have been punished for the vile things I've seen you spout about Joost or this poor woman.

Basic fucking decency and common sense is not that difficult.

Later addition: (I've calmed down a bit)

I posted this about an hour ago but I want to add I do support Joost and feel bad for him but if it is true he punched and broke a camera it disqualification was not an unreasonable punishment. The awful rumours were just an unnecessary kick in the stomach.

If it turns out he did not damage the camera I will happily eat my words.

It is a pity he did not perform in the grand finale considering the huge potential it had but we can't excuse that behaviour. I hope he learns from this situation enough to prevent himself from getting in more trouble.

This does not mean I support the ebu btw <3 fuck the ebu

[stevelieber]

Here's another thread I don't want to leave languishing at the old site. It's tough to start a career. I had good mentors and I'm grateful and want to pass it on. These are some notes I made on ways to do so.

1. Promote artists a generation younger than you. Share your platform. RT them, mention them in interviews. (This means being aware of what younger artists are doing!)

2. Hire them if you can. Pin ups, commissions, variants, fill-ins, assists, anything. A small gig can be what helps them make rent.

3. (The same applies to creators a generation older. Many of them helped develop the visual language, the audience, and the industry infrastructure we rely on. Tell your reader how these artists' choices informed your own. Help your fans see what you saw in your influences' stories.)

4. Support anthologies. They've always been a key place where new and marginalized talent can incubate, & established artists can try something new. (They certainly were for me. Many of the big leaps I made as an artist happened on anthology stories where I had freedom to experiment.)

5. Mentor new artists! Even if their subject or style is different from yours, you still have much to offer. Just be sure to frame your advice in terms of goals & principles rather than "the right way" or "the wrong way." You want to help them find their own voice, not echo yours.

6. Suggest strategies for dealing with challenging clients or collaborators. The industry may be very different from when you broke in, but those young artists are still going to face the many of the same problems you did.

7. Steer them towards someone trustworthy when they need a consultant. It's not easy to find an accountant, an agent, or a lawyer who understands what we do. Your contacts are valuable!

If nothing else, make them aware of Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts. https://vlaa.org/get-help/other-vlas/

8. Share your understanding of industry standards for pay rates & professional practices. This doesn't mean posting your rates in public. The main that does is anchor your position when negotiating rates with a potential client. But in private, TALK. This benefits ALL your peers.

9. There will be times when you can't answer a question. It happens all the time. No one knows everything! But you probably know someone who *can* answer it. Use your network of connections and make the introduction.

10. And finally, take questions about the art, the craft, the culture, and the business on your social media. Answer them as honestly as you can.

-end-

[lokisasylum]

I feel bad for "Jimin biased armys" 'cause they're still struggling to understand why "the rest of the fandom" don't support Jimin the way they do with other members.

They don't stream (and when they do, they use the wrong type of playlists which only benefit OTHER members more than Jimin)

They don't vote.

They don't CARE or bother to share any of his campaigns, updates, records, news.

The only time they seem to "care" is when they want to weaponize his words against his solo fanbases (who are actually keeping his songs stable with 24/7 streaming parties on all platforms). Or when they want to flex his skills against other fandoms to create fanwars only to throw him under the bus.

And this isn't recent, I've said it already on X.

As an OG fan, I've been seeing this pattern since before they won their first Daesang at MAMA. Then it progressively got louder when they won their first billboard music award in 2017, 'cause that's when more toxic shippers and kppopies joined the fandom as BTS got bigger in the US.

And you can come here with your sheep mentality and tell me that: "Oh Armys are just projecting the hatred they feel towards his solos on to him---"

BULLSHIT

It is known IN AND OUT of the fandom that a LARGE portion of it always hated Jimin. The reason it wasn't so obvious (aside from the constant gaslighting from the company's part feeding the "One big happy family" agenda) is that openly hating a member back then was considered hating the group as a whole.

But you could always tell and see the constant microaggressions, the back-handed comments, downplaying his abilities, over-and-hyper-feminization (to an almost fetishizing degree) of his persona in order to project him as "weak", "helpless", "he's nothing without the group" (or certain members).

And even when he proved everybody WRONG before and during his solo debut. That he COULD stand on his own two feet, that he IS more than capable and TALENTED enough to write & compose his own music. Guess what? That LARGE portion of the fandom who always hated him as part of the group, now hated him even more as a soloist. They just found a way to justify the hate they've always felt for HIM by using his solos. 'Cause what do you mean other solos get free passes everyday to hate on him since YEARS ago and still those other members get all the support despite having the worst solos because "its not the member's fault".

And the funny part is THOSE are the people who managed to groom and gaslight the rest of the fandom into this delusion of "pjms are the most vile", "pjms are the devils", "they should all be k*lled".

Why? Because we got tired of staying quiet? Got tired of being just bystanders and decided to take action? Decided that enough was enough and started fighting back?

So really, wtf are ya'll still acting surprised for?

If 'FACE' era didn't open your eyes, then I'm afraid you're a lost cause atp as a Jimin biased.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What is your take on Riddle's possession of Ginny? I read a fic where she was held accountable for not immediately reporting the diary after she blacked out and started to suspect that something nefarious was going on. Stating that she 'wilfully' time and again put saving her own skin over the lives of her fellow students and teachers.

Thoughts??

Like, Tom definitely did possess her. Do I think Ginny took the best course of action in the situation? No. But I don't put as much fault on her for this as some things she does later in the books.

In CoS, Ginny is 11 years old, lonely & friendless, Tom is her only friend, she shares her secrets with him and then he turns and uses her secrets to blackmail her. Both what he forced her to do and what she told him.

Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who’d been strangling roosters?

(CoS, )

To an 11-year-old Ginny, this threat is terrifying. Terrifying enough to not tell anyone because she's scared of the consequences.

And she did try to get rid of the diary by flushing it down the toilet. So she tried to remove the source of the problem without notifying anyone. It just ended up not working out.

Ginny in CoS is mostly motivated by loneliness at first, and then fear. This threat Tom mentions in the above quote, I'm sure is one he made to Ginny. He probably explained exactly why she shouldn't tell anyone or throw the diary away. He probably told her she'd be expelled from Hogwarts if anyone found out.

While I'm not a Ginny fan, I don't judge 11-year-old Ginny too harshly. This is a terrible situation to be in. Because she feels like she doesn't have anyone to confide in besides the diary that causes all her problems. She is in a new school, her first time away from home, and new people all around, it can be terrifying, and I think it was for her.

And then you add Tom into the mix who's clever and knows how to manipulate a scared 11-year-old girl. Ginny didn't have much of a chance there. It's not like Harry told any adult about the strange talking diary (that being said Harry just doesn't trust adults).

Molly and Arthur Weasley aren't the perfect examples of supportive parents either, I don't think Ginny would've risked her parents' ire over her own problems. She probably thought (hoped) she could figure it out herself and not have to bother them. Because bothering them would've come with a punishment. I talked about how Arthur and Molly Weasley aren't great parents, and Ginny was probably scared of their punishment and her mother screaming at her like she does at Fred and George more than she feared what would happen to the other students.

“Ginny!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. “Haven’t I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain. Why didn’t you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic —”

(CoS, 304)

Like, Arthur says this, but he and Molly don't behave in a way that encourages their kids to confide in them. So, Ginny has a reason for her fears, it's not that they're unfounded.

And she won't tell her older brothers, because she doesn't want them to see her as a scared helpless little girl. She's scared of their opinion of her just as much. And I think she truly thought it wouldn't get too bad, that she could figure it out on her own. She was wrong.

Yes, her decision is selfish, it's dumb, it endangered so many students and people in general, and it doesn't paint her in a great light. But since she was 11 at the time, I'm more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt about it. Like, I'd be more lenient when punishing 11-year-old Ginny over the CoS ordeal. I think a stern talking-to was the bare minimum, so at least it won't happen again. She probably should have received some consequences, but I don't think I'd expel or even suspend her over it.

Like, I'd probably want to make sure she understood what her actions could have resulted in so she'd be more fearful of that potential scenario in the future rather than her own skin. And I think she did understand she herself was in just as much danger by the end of the book. Like, I think this situation wasn't one she should've been punished harshly for, but instead used as an opportunity for her to learn from the situation.

A punishment should've still been given though, and I don't recall it was. Because she did hurt students (through her neglect) and was incredibly lucky no one got really harmed. So, some punishment more than she got in the books was required, but not something too harsh is what I'm thinking.

[secrets-and-streetlights]

My Theories / Thoughts on the new HtP audio log

Spoilers under the cut! Don't read unless you listened to the ghoul lore episode!! I will know!!!! (also massive post)

okay there is. so insanely much to talk about with this audio log. I have so many theories and thoughts, but I'll just share my main ones in no specific order.

Keep in mind that I'm no WoD scholar, so some info could be wrong or be interpreted by the Ogre Poppenang team differently. A lot of this info is coming from the White Wolf wiki.

The Lost Sons

I have a lot of theories on who the sons D lost were. My actual theory is that we'll never know so it remains mysterious. However, endlessly theorizing is fun so: 1.) D says that he lost a son and that it wasn't the first time. So we know at least two sons are gone. Assuming he has only lost two sons, they could be stand ins for the two lost Primarchs from 40k.

For those that don't know a lot about 40k, two of the emperor's sons are 'lost'. Thier names are never said and as far as I know their exact fates never confirmed (but assumedly killed). This goes with my actual theory of not actually knowing what happened.

2.) Anton. During the Australia story, D mentions Anton offhandly. I agree with @sensarna that Anton is a stand in for Angron. We don't know the exact details of that hunt so there is no way to be sure. Biggest point against this is that D gets very intense about saying "Markus' Brother's" name, so I doubt he would mention it offhandedly.

3.) I want to avoid using things not in the series but I'll be drawing on primarch fates from 40k for this. Fates are defiantly not one to one since Door is alive/has both hands, Horus is alive/a horse, and so on. But I immediately thought of Jaghatai Khan when hearing the Australia story.

Simplified for non-40k fans, Jaghatai is supposedly fighting space elf pirates in the space elf dimension, trapped in its endlessly twisting paths. In HtP, this could be interpreted as Jaghatai being trapped in a changeling freehold. Other primarchs are also trapped/lost in places (like Leman Russ and Vulkan) but Jaghatai is involved with the closest thing 40k has to cruel fae.

4.) The previous lost son(s) was not lost as in killed (necessarily) but lost as in changed. This has nothing to do with the Australia story but I'd be surprised if Markus was D's only supernatural(?) son. Leman is probably a werewolf or a gangrel, Lorgar could be possessed by a demon or a nephandi mage, Vulkan could be a wraith constantly possessing people, Roboute could be a changeling lost to banality, anything.

Markus and the Thing (1982)

We know a few things about Markus contacting the unknown force (which I will refer to as the Thing). The Thing is not a 'monster' or a 'demon'.

The Thing is described as or something from the Abyss (with a capital A, even). The Abyss is portrayed differently in every WoD game line, the descriptions conveyed by how that game's supernatural would interact with it. Its a cursed sea to Wraiths, a realm of sensory deprivation to Demons, and the realm of paradoxes and unreality to Magi just to name a few.

D himself says that he doesn't know exactly what it is or how exactly Markus contacted it, so he may be wrong in saying it is/from the Abyss. However, we do know from the Kevin audiolog that D was part of a hunt that killed a Lasombra Methuselah, whose clan has Abyss powers. I'm willing to give D the benefit of the doubt and assume that the Thing is related the the Abyss.

So, what the hell is it?

1.) While kind of a copout, we probably won't ever know its exact nature. The fifth edition Hunter book is full of creatures that don't fit into any neat classifications. It could be something totally unique to this story.

2.) While also unlikely, it could be a Neverborn. They are a major part of Wraith. Neverborn are forces of primordial destruction, endlessly slumbering while they wait for the end of everything. Their minds are the source of the Specters' hivemind, commands carried out through dreams. The 'million eyes' Markus caught a glimpse of could have been an endless hivemind trying to destroy the universe suddenly becoming aware of a lone child.

The big points against this is that getting into the world of the living is difficult for any single wraith/specter, more so for a whole group of them. Maybe whatever ritual Markus did made it easier, we don't know.

3.) According to D, Markus has had a 'sorcerous aptitude'. This immediately made me think of an Avatar. Avatars in mage are a kind of spiritual guide to Magi, always pushing them to realize their potential. Since Magi can have literally any paradigm (the way a mage understands magik), their Avatar can be literally anything.

I'm unsure if Avatars can manifest for anyone aside the mage, but during an Awakening anything could happen. From the picture of the Thing (assuming the photo is diegetic) we know it was visible. If not interrupted, maybe Markus could've even stopped the fae. Or he could've been consumed by overwhelming power and died.

I think this is best supported theory, especially since D has no idea how Markus did it. Markus didn't have to know how to do it. He just needed to believe that it'd work.

4.) Lastly is the most closely related to Changelings. Fomorians. The oldest nightmares of the Dreaming. They are too alien to describe properly. Whatever Markus was doing, he thought he was "channeling a rival power in the fae court". If we're assuming the main power of the court was Seelie, this would mean he was using Unseelie (or possibly Shadow Court) power. Fomorians are supposedly the predecessors to the Unseelie, so Markus might've tapped into something much older than intended.

So why isn't this my main theory? Fomorians fit the physical description (as in, indescribable), are related to the enemy the Family was hunting at the time, and are esoteric enough that D could possibly not know about them.

Because as far as I know, The Dreaming not associated with the Abyss in any way. Its quite the opposite, since its the place of dreams and nightmares. Where the Dreaming is overstimulation, the Abyss is deprivation. That is my interpretation at least. This theory would have to assume that D was just wrong when name dropping the capital A Abyss, which doesn't seem right to me.

The Funny Drink

So the whole Draught thing. This post is long and rambling enough as is, so my theories will be brief.

We know that the draught can bestow any of the following. Strength, Speed, Endurance, or (uniquely for Norfolk) Domination. D says that the Domination one could "give victims complex orders that can be carried out without question."

I think the two lines of thinking are the ones brought up by @possiblylando , mainly that the domination draught is a red herring or that it was used to make someone attack Occam.

The other draughts could also be in use instead, assuming the Ghoul only has one.

If the person that took out Occam wasn't very strong, the Strength draught could give them the edge to overpower him.

Whoever killed Fatigue could've used the Speed draught and cleaned up/fled quickly after making him suddenly explode.

More theory than example but Brok takes a punch from D in chapter 4. D says "Your papa could never take a punch like that.", which could be the Endurance draught at work.

Summary

What a good audio log. Can't wait for the next episode!

[spunkytomboybeat]

Long post about Makoto x Elena from Street Fighter

Once more I am thinking about Makoto and Elena from street fighter and i am debating on making a youtube video on my thoughts about me shipping the two.

I had my old post on here reblogged and it got me thinking about how Makoto x Elena is a rarepair for some reason, sure there's some fans about it (I've slowly been finding people who take interest/like it) but it's somehow the least common one when talking about the street fighter 3 gals. It is significantly more common for me to see Ibuki x Makoto, Elena x Ibuki, or even Elena x Makoto x Ibuki somehow. I'm not saying any of these pairings are bad, I do like them (I am somewhat mixed on Ibuki and Makoto for a handful of reasons but this isn't about them) and I love seeing art about them, what I am confused about is that the one with the LEAST art of talk about is Elena x Makoto.

These two have been on my mind forever. A taller than average bubbly capoeira PRINCESS is dating a shorter slightly grumpy tosan karetake tomboy is so funny to me. These two are just the polar opposites and yet despite it all they are dating? Incredible.

Like through the games and side media it's fairly obvious the writers and artists commonly pair the two together now on whatever they're doing.

First it was on sf3 where despite Makoto being a new character (and even having a special intro with Ibuki), Elena was the ONLY person to have a conversation on their own arcade ladder with Makoto (Makoto has a convo with Ryu since she was trying to find him to fight). And thing is Makoto wasn't even the most welcoming at first (dialogue below)

Makoto: What's wrong with you?! Stop smiling like that! It's creepy! Makoto: I'm here for a serious fight! I'll punish you if you make fun of me! Elena: I just want to be your friend! Elena: That's the reason why we fight! So let's enjoy the battle! Makoto: Friend?! I don't think I could ever understand you. [Dialogue ends.]

And it's honestly funny that Makoto of all people underestimates Elena, a capoeirista (I'll give her the benefit of the doubt since Makoto isn't the most knowledgeable of the world and doesn't know that Capoeira is arguably one of the scariest fighting styles to have on a tall person). Girl wanted to have a new friend and up for a friendly spar on her travels around Japan and Makoto assumed she was just here to make fun of her (And I assume they either went on a draw or Makoto lost the fight since I do believe Elena is stronger between the two). But even what Makoto said, Elena is unphased and knows she didn't mean any harm, Makoto is just someone who is very direct with words and is honest about what she says even if she's not the best person at communicating. Elena likes her friends and Makoto is her friend and is there to listen, be her with a grumpy face or not, Elena isn't here to make fun of you on purpose and would rather laugh with you.

Before 3rd strike Elena was normally paired with Ibuki (Even if Ibuki was being paired with chun since she was the most famous of the 2) because she was one of the 2 girls on sf3. But after 3rd strike something shifted and suddenly Elena was being paired with Makoto more often than not, and when they weren't it'd either be the sf3 girls trio, Elena was paired with Narumi (i wish we had more Narumi content) or Makoto was chilling with Ibuki. But other than that a lot of comics and official art just had Mak and Elena enjoy their time together and i think it's really cool we have more content of them, I really want the two to interact with each other more in SF6. Capcom please put me in that writing's room when you do decide to do a cutscene story mode for sf6 that isn't world tour (I like the mode I just wish it was the real characters interacting more with each other since we finally have a proper budget and can experiment more)

I really enjoy that I've been seeing more content of the Tall goober and the short goober kissing though, really lovely stuff :3

Like imagine being a Tosan girl with barely any social experience because majority of your life you were secluded because everyone didn't care about you or your dojo's history after your father died and dressed like a tomboy and did karate so much to the point you make your hands, which are bigger than that of a common girl, bleed and also one of your interests is woodcarving and then suddenly this foreigner capoeirista taller than your doorframe (and taller than you by two heads) comes up to you smiling saying they want to be your friend because you looked like a fun person to talk to even if your past wasn't the most superb thing ever to look up to. She doesn't mind what happened to your past and isn't here to make fun of you or to shun you away because you worked all your life for a goal that you set yourself to do for years, even if it was alone, she was here because she liked you as a person and found you cute and would yell at the world that she's your friend and would go out to eat, watch movies, do work, train, spar, debate fighting styles, study and just relax with each other. And then suddenly a year passes and you're in her bed and shes sleeping soundly next to you and you call her your girlfriend that you love very much and you don't know how to react. And then the next morning she picks you up because she found it funny since she's still significantly taller than you but you love her since she's someone you care about for all this time, giving you a kiss on your big forehead.

I like these two a lot, I really do.

[tiffany-loves-broadway]

Someone on Reddit asked me what my major problems with Ward were. I figured I might as well port the comment over here; it's been a while since I've written a substantial Ward Bad post. Recommendation: don't read Ward.

---

It would probably be quicker to list things I didn't have problems with. I spent most of the story giving it the benefit of the doubt because I liked Worm enough that I assumed it was leading up to something good that would justify the buildup. As the story continued that became less and less likely, and as it wound down to a close I realized after nearly two million words that it wasn't going to happen. I would probably have wound up sour about it even if the final arc had been individually decent instead of the worst thing I've ever read from Wildbow.

The characters are good. Not better than Worm's like many say, but good. Wildbow's still pretty good at creating character backstories, whether they're major or minor.

The plot is bad. This includes the character arcs, which are bad. I think about this when people say that it's a better character piece than Worm.

The setting is bad. Worm's world feels like a living place; Wildbow spent many years conceiving of it. Ward's world feels improvised by someone who really doesn't want to be doing a Worm sequel.

The themes are bad. Worm handles its themes with great artistry and nuance; Ward handles them dumbly with a sledgehammer. Its message is bad; Worm had an unreliable narrator who was frequently corrupt and made dubious ethical decisions, while Ward has a hyperreliable narrator who Wildbow is terrified to allow to be wrong, which is especially a problem because she is often meaningfully in the wrong.

The callbacks to Worm are bad. Unfortunately, one of them is the protagonist (bad). The return of the Undersiders to central character status is particularly terrible. It's commonly said that Ward isn't a sequel to Worm, because it's a new story with new characters. In that sense, I didn't want a sequel to Worm, I wanted exactly the thing people say Ward is, a new story with new characters. I just wish that the ties it did have to Worm felt less like contrived trade-ins on fan nostalgia. I really could have done with less of them period.

The writing process was bad, and Wildbow has acknowledged this. The story constantly insecurely shifted to the whims of the crowd, contorting itself in a clumsy attempt to respond to misguided feedback or settle dumb fandom arguments. If you could go back in time and convince Wildbow to sever contact with his entire fandom while writing Ward, it would almost certainly have turned out better one way or another.

The individual plot arcs' endings were bad. Wildbow basically never really knew how to transition from one arc to the next; he frequently cut an arc short because the loudest fans were getting bored of it, and it fucking showed.

The final arc of the story was terrible. Artistically terrible and even ethically terrible. A culmination of every single other problem listed here. It is hard to convey how terrible it is without spoiling it. It felt like something you'd see in a documentary about a Heaven's Gate style cult as one of their pieces of rambling religious material distributed to members. And Wildbow apparently had no fucking idea what he was doing; asleep at the wheel on the freeway, suddenly swerving at the last moment away from death and into standard Ward-style triteness. It isn't surprising that he considers the end of Ward the low point of his career, or that it made him consider quitting writing. It showed.

All around, it was bad.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.

You know what's shit?

That I always come back to work on my explanation posts on why Alya, Plagg, and Emonette being treated unfairly and being disregarded by Maribug's writing is by now pissing me off to similar degrees as her bad treatment of Chat Noir

But that always ends in a domino effect of me putting together more of the overall narrative that ticks me off so much cause my ADD brain can't NOT look for the continuous string of the writing pattern I follow once I'm at it.

You probably can imagine that this isn't very good for my mental health and the only reason why I'm still doing it is because I have a strong suspicion on what the new story arc will do with Cerise after this agonizing hiatus, and only once the actual new story arc proves me wrong can my ADD brain let this emotional investment of 7+ years in my "comfort show" since I was a 16 rest in peace.

Being neurodivergent is exhausting of FUCK...

So I always stop writing any of the posts about the other topics and come back to my Adrichat corner because that's the "safe space" my brain is the most familiar and comfortable with by now since season 4 to make a post AT ALL that isn't running the risk of leading me down 7 new rabbit holes I can't unsee anymore afterwards...

I MISS looking into several narrative threads in this show and voicing my opinions on them. In hindsight, I regret not having done it more when it was still possible, but I feel like it should have been alright in any other normally written show to have a fan blog dedicated to a specific part of the story. I feel like I shouldn't be the one in the WRONG for having done that.

Anyway, I honestly MISS the time where I knew that Maribug's benefit and comfort weren't the only things accepted as "valid" readings of the story. From both sides. Supporters and critics/salters.

Where saying anything that isn't immediately connected to Marinette's benefit and comfort didn't need a full-blown 20 page essay post going into any detail possible to fight for the right to even be taken seriously as a realistic reading of the story at all.

I know I'm not the only one upset at this, but I wonder how many people really realized by now how batshit insane this is right now. That only the most vanilla and vague-ass posts that do their best to not in anyway say something that would be "mean" and "non-validating" to Marinette can be posted now without it automatically being categorized as at least "critical" or running the risk of getting perceived as salt or wishful-thinking.

You can't point ANYTHING out anymore without at least one person running in and either saying "You just HATE Marinette and want to see her punished! You people never care about HERRRRRRRRRR (regarding a topic that isn't about her or is her fucking JOB as a narrative tool to DO)" or "Yeah, nah, the show would never let that happen because of the Marinette bias lol"

You can't even say anything anymore about Adrien's abuse without it being either undermined to all hell because of Marinette having been bullied and needing to be a girlboss who does to others what she's declared "tortured" for, or Félix "hypocrite and victim-blamer" Fathom. Gabriel being abusive was once the most basic ass thing to talk about, what the fuck happened?? (don't answer that, I know the answer...)

The whole analysis' side of this fandom that isn't catering to Marinette was either killed or basically exiled into the "critical" or outright "salt" tag because you can't even be interested in world-building anymore without having to fight for the post's right to be taken seriously under the crushing weight of Marinette's narrative benefits and comfort.

Because mademoiselle ain't fucking interested in ANYTHING lore wise beyond what's convenient for her (not to mention the retcons), so talking about the Guardian and Kwami lore for example counts as SALT now because it automatically implies for people that Marinette isn't all that matters and her flaws of not being interest in ANYTHING might actually COUNT as flaws she should work on. I know, the fucking HORROR! 😱

I MISS writing theories, analysis posts, and speculating about this shows future plots in even the most basic "set up and pay off" manner but I know I can't because my default approach is always complementary to the main character - meaning what challenges them and the narrative the most to grow, expand, and develop. This isn't a Marinette specific thing, I ALWAYS do this.

And contrary to popular belief in this fandom, I get by perfectly fine doing that for the majority of other pieces of media I consume. It is MIRACULOUS and this damn Fandom that now genuinely did it's best to convince themselves that this level of main character centric morality and revenge porn level writing is NORMAL when it's seriously NOT.

There is a REASON why this show hardly ever gets recommended on social media the way one would think despite its success. Or why the Fan backlash is so enormous despite a solid part of the Fandom already having left long ago and the young target demographic not uniformly having a voice in the social media discourse.

Or why people actively advise others AGAINST watching the show, AGAINST forming an emotional investment, and AGAINST going anywhere near the Fandom.

Cause no fucking shit, this isn't normal.