#my impression is that it means like. 'this thing pretends to be in our world but it talks about things that never happened as if they did' ?

[mbat]

i know its not for everyone for whatever reasons apply but damn do i love unreality. in horror, in sillyness, in pretty much any context. i actually love the moments i sit there asking 'is this real? what is happening?' and then realizing its not and being in on the fun

whether it be like that one blog that pretends pokemon are real, or horror projects like welcome home where the whole premise is that its based on a children franchise that never existed but it does exist for this projects reality, or the youtube video i just watched that pretended to talk about creepypasta history but it was only talking about creepypastas that were never actually real... genuinely so fucking fun to me. i love it. i need more of it fr fr

[ladyshinga]

“lol you realize Barbie is only a marketing movie, right? it’s just SELLING STUFF, you know that right? capitalism? lol?”

You’re too late.

Like, you’re not wrong, but you are wildly late on this one.

No one is under the impression that this movie isn’t marketing a toy line.

But that toy line? Has been on this earth longer than you’ve been. Barbie is old. Barbie is everywhere. We’ve all seen a commercial if not owned at least one Barbie doll in our lifetimes (or a knock-off you get emotionally attached to even if the weird mean girl down the street keeps making fun of it) (fuck you Christie that doll was a hero)

Advertising is everywhere. I can’t turn the TV on without ads, even on streaming services that used to brag how ad-free they were. I can’t browse social media without ads. I can’t see a movie or a show without products being “subtly” shown off.

We’re haunted by ads at every goddamn turn, we can’t even talk to an old friend from high school without them trying to sell us something.

If you think you’re making some radical grand statement by pointing out that Barbie is a toy line made by a big company that wants to sell more things... bud. We know that.

We know.

Greta Gerwig seems like she had a lot of fun with this movie, the actors had a lot of fun, the set design is fun.

No one is looking forward to Barbie because we think it’s some kind of beautiful radical anti-capitalist message just WAITING to break the world of its delusions of consumerism. God, could you imagine?

We’re looking forward to a bunch of actors dressed in pink having a lot of fun. We know the movie will make people want Barbie stuff, maybe they’ll go out and buy it, maybe they’re too broke because the world is expensive right now and we’ve got bills. But if “this movie will advertise things to you” was a dealbreaker we’d never see anything.

Because Barbie isn’t unique in this. A LOT of modern movies just want you to buy things, or admire/join the American military, etc etc. Money runs things here. Even capitalism stans know it runs everything (though they’re generally okay with it). Ads are our lives even when we use ad blockers and do our best to ignore the ones we see.

We’re seeing Barbie because it looks silly and fun, not because we’re putting it up on a pedestal expecting it to change the world. And we’re kidding and being silly when we DO act like that. Because goddammit, IT’S BARBIE. We’re acting like we acted when we played with dolls as kids, we’re PLAYING, we’re having fun. When I was a kid I absolutely pretended my Barbies could save the world and were magical and powerful. Didn’t mean she actually was.

These are toys. And we like to play. That doesn’t erase the capitalist motivations of Mattel, but it doesn’t have to mean we “support” their evils. We want to play, we want to enjoy play, even when we’re trapped in a capitalist hellscape where like 80% of our day to day fun is sold to us

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.

[bedoballoons]

AFTER SEEİNG THE MİTSURİ READER ONE I HAD TO ASK FOR THİS

So hear me out

On a reader like shinobu, i mean like her intelligence and teasing ykyk

W genshin bois

(especially tighnari if you write for our fox boy 🤭🤭)

I love fox boy!!! I hope you enjoy! <3 Also incredibly sorry anon if you sent this a long time ago!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Shinobu Kocho like reader!~༺}

CW: Fluffy! Reader calls Lyney dearest and he calls them ma chérie! A little bit of teasing! Technically this is a part 2!

(Includes: Lyney, Gorou, Tighnari, and Scaramouche!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You looked up at Lyney, watching with intrigue as a blue winged butterfly landed gracefully on the top of his hat, it's presence entirely unknown to him as he continued to walk beside you, making the situation that much sweeter. For a second you thought about letting him know, but then a idea started to formulate...perhaps you could tease him a little, get him back for all the teasing he had done. "Lyney dearest, you might want to clean your hat, I swear I saw something move amongst all that dust."

He stopped mid step, raising one of his eyebrows at you in curiosity and you could only chuckle in response, watching the butterfly on his hat open and close its wings peacefully without a care in the world. "My hats never dirty, ma chérie how could you say something so cruel." Lyney pretended to act offended, deciding to play along in your little game and you couldn't be happier. "I think you might want to check again... your hat certainly isn't free of live creatures.." You giggled cheerfully as his face went pale, uncertainty in his eyes as he lifted his hat of his head slowly.

The second he saw what you were talking about he couldn't help but laugh, a blush of embarrassment coating his cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lip, the two of you watching as the butterfly flew away.

𑁍༄Gorou:

You looked at the bottles in front of you, examining their multi coloured exteriors that concealed the various deadly poisons you'd created, each one perfected and ready for you if you ever needed them. To anyone else, this collection would seem terrifying, but in your eyes it was a wall of achievements, of trails and tribulations....and only one other person seemed to understand, his support enough to keep you experimenting even when everyone else acted like you were insane.

"Whatcha working on now?" Gorou appeared next to you, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy, a big happy smile on his face that was one hundred percent contagious, forcing you to smile along with him. "Actually I'm not working on anything currently, just spacing out until you got home. Did everything go well with Miss Kokomi?" You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder and absorbing his warmth, his tail wagging slightly with joy at your cuddles.

"Mhm! Her excellency has everything prepared for the trip to Inazuma city...and I'm hoping you'll join us..." He pulled away so he could look at you, his eyes wide and pleading, begging you to come with him so he wouldn't have to be away from you for such a long time,...how could you say no? "Alright alright...calm down doggy, I'd love to go with you." You placed a kiss on his cheek, watching in delight as he blushed lightly and hugged you in response, clearly excited to take a trip with you.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari was more than impressed by you, in fact awestruck seemed like a better word to describe his current state of being. He'd never met someone like you before, absolutely beautiful in every way, with butterflies as your source of inspiration when it came to clothing and your intelligence when it came to alchemy absolutely blew him away, not to mention you seemed to know a few things about being a doctor too!

It seemed like you had him wrapped around your finger, to the point he found himself thinking about you in his spare time and wondering what you could be up to, just like he was now. His heart tempting him to go find you and ask if you'd like to go out for lunch, or maybe have dinner together, but he also felt nervous...would you catch onto his feelings?

"Tighnari? You alright?" Your voice knocked him right out of his thoughts, disbelief taking over his features at the realisation that you'd snuck up on him...how has he not noticed you? "Yes Im alright. Sorry I was...thinking about something. What're you up to?" His eyes met yours, sending warmth to his cheeks and making his heart race, he hoped you wouldn't notice the change in his mannerisms..."I noticed you sitting here spacing out and I figured maybe you'd like some company, wanna go grab a bite to eat? We can talk about the new medicines you've been working on. I figured out a alternative for capsules!"

He smiled happily, his tail wagging with excitement as he nodded, his little crush growing with every moment he spent with you...to the point of no return.

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

You narrowed your eyes, your attention trained solely on Scaramouche, his usual smirk replaced with pure focus and neither of you moving a muscle, the stakes were high this time and you weren't going to go down without a fight. You could feel victory was on its way though, the match of true champions coming to a end as the seconds ticked by...and then it happened.

"You blinked Scara!" You jumped up from your seat at the table, cheering happily and feeling quite proud of yourself for besting such a high ranking harbinger, proving power wasn't enough to win everything. "I did not! I say we have a rematch, clearly you weren't paying good enough attention! Worthless being!" Scaramouche stood up too, his cheeks red with anger and slight embarrassment, he knew full well he had lost fair and square, but he couldn't just let you win that easily!

"Nope absolutely not. I won and that means your power isn't as strong as my intelligence, remember that was the deal." Your crossed your arms, smirking at him playfully as he tried to come up with some other excuse or reason to play again. When he didn't respond after a few moments you started to wonder if you'd gone to far...only to be proven entirely wrong, "Fine...my turn then...if I win you have to give me a kiss..." a devious look flicked across his features and it made a shiver run up your spine.

"Alright what is it?"

"Let's play the game of whoever is taller wins."

"Hey!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[riordanness]

tolerate it — [p.mellark]

wordcount: 3.9K

warnings: slight death mentions, but bro it’s the hunger games what did you reallllllly expect

requested: yes!! @ornellastreet <33

I didn’t think it was possible for my mood to get worse after being reaped, but hearing his name called out over the loudspeaker definitely made me feel like hitting something.

“Peeta Mellark!” The chipper lady, Effie, is way over the top about all this. I mean, I get that it’s her job and all, but we’re kids, fighting to the death. We aren’t lottery winners or something.

I watch as the all too familiar blond boy’s face goes pale, then stare as he slowly makes his way towards the platform, toward me. He doesn’t look me in the eyes at first, just simply takes his place beside Effie.

“We have our tributes!” Effie squeals excitedly. “Now, shake hands, you two.”

Great. I clench my jaw as I hold my hand out to Peeta. He hesitates for just a second, but when he sees my expression, he quickly shakes my hand.

“Excellent!” Effie claps, and I feel the ridiculous urge to slap her wig off.

“Come along, both of you.” Effie waves us into the back rooms of the Justice Building. As I follow her and Peeta, I glance back over my shoulder, at what is probably my last look at home.

I sit beside Peeta, my fingers tracing the soft blue velvet of the couches in this ridiculously extravagant train car. I stare out the window, watching the world flash by faster and faster, till I get dizzy and have to stop. Then I stare at the floor.

Every part of me is aware of the boy only a few inches away. If I leaned even slightly, I would be brushing shoulders with him.

After noticing this, I quickly lean the other direction. I rest my hot forehead against the cool glass window, close my eyes, and try to pretend this is all a dream.

“Well, well, well.” A drawling male voice comes from somewhere above me, and I wake with a start. I must’ve fallen asleep in my chair, which almost impresses me because I was sure I’d been too scared to sleep.

I squint up and recognise Haymitch, the only living victor of District Twelve. He had a glass of alcohol in his left hand, and is waving the other hand at me. “Up, up!” he insists.

I get to my feet uncertainly, glancing around for a sign of Peeta.

“The boy’s already gone,” Haymitch says. “We’re arrived.”

“Arrived?” I ask. “Where?”

He spreads his hands, like ‘are you stupid?’. “The Capitol, sweetheart. Now come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Honestly? It wasn’t how I’d pictured it. I haven’t ever seen much of the Capitol, but the image in my head was way off. Everything was way more extravagant and expensive and ridiculous than I could ever have imagined.

We’ve been here almost two days now. Last night was the parade, where me and Peeta were basically lit on fire and forced to hold hands while all the Capitol citizens stared at us like we were circus animals. I hated every second of it.

I stand now in my room, on Floor 12 of this stupid tribute apartment complex. I stare out the windows, watching the Capitol go by. My fingers fidget with the satin sleeve of my new top, the most fancy thing I’ve worn to date.

I glance at the clock on the wall, and remember I’d better get going to dinner. Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and apparently our stylists will all be waiting for me.

I hurry.

At the table, I’m forced to sit beside Peeta, much to my annoyance. He leaves me alone, though, which is more than I can say about Effie, who is peppering me with questions. I answer as little as I can, refusing to give this woman any information worth hearing.

“So.” My stylist, Cinna, gives me a smile. He’s nicer than I thought any Capitol people were capable of, but I didn’t exactly like him, not yet. “Ready for your interview tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I have your outfit ready to go. You’ll prepare with Haymitch and Effie all day, till four, then you’re mine. I’ll make you gorgeous.”

“Okay.”

Effie makes an exasperated sound in her throat. “Can’t you just try to be excited?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. I can’t believe this. “What, excited to die?” I fake an extremely over exaggerated smile. “I can’t wait!”

Peeta kind of laughs, then immediately tries to hide it with a cough and a glass of water.

I ignore him. I’ve become pretty good at that.

Haymitch smirks. Effie sighs. Cinna gives me a knowing little wink, and Peeta’s stylist, Portia, doesn’t look at me.

I sigh and shove my chair from the table. “Night,” I announce, and storm to my room. I collapse instantly into my bed, curl into a ball, and let the tears come. I fall asleep like that, crying for home, for safety, for comfort.

The next morning, I’m woken by Effie’s ridiculous ‘It’s going to be a big, big, big day!’ The entire day sucks from that point onwards.

Both Haymitch and Effie are at their wits ends with what to do with me during my interview.

Effie has me first, and for the first hour, she keeps her optimistic outlook on my potential. Two sarcastic words from me and fifty-seven minutes later, she looks ready to wring my neck then and there. She hands me over to Haymitch looking ready to cry. I have a tiny bit of satisfaction from that, I’ll admit.

Haymitch looks, I don’t know, preoccupied, the entire of our session. Everytime I say anything, he seems almost jumpy. Eventually I give up and sit there in silence until he lets me go. I have a shower per Cinna’s instructions and wait for him in my room.

I have to admit, Cinna is a genius. His handiwork is incredible. I stand in front of the mirror and smooth my skirts, a hint of my smile on my face.

Luxurious clothing, especially dresses, were never something I even thought of back in Twelve. But it felt pretty damn good to wear one.

The dress is gold, with little pockets of white and yellow and orange and red and silver and black, like fire. When I move, it’s almost like flames are flicking over me.

“This is amazing, Cinna,” I tell him. “Thank you for making me feel pretty tonight.”

Cinna gives me a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. “I’m not allowed to bet,” he says in reply, “but if I could, I’d bet on you.”

This time, I really do smile.

I officially want to die then and there the instant I’m up on that brightly lit stage. I have no idea what to say, or how to act, and I fumble my way through the entire interview. Even Caesar Flickerman, who never seems to run out of funny things to say; who always knows how to keep the conversation flowing effortlessly, is at his wits end with me. It seems to be my only talent; making people exasperated at me.

I leave the stage to the quietest round of applause the world has ever known.

I pass Peeta in the hall, and he gives me the smallest look of acknowledgement. I wish we could just stop pretending to be friends. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as Peeta Mellark has, and I don’t know how to forgive him for it. There’s a tiny part of me that’s almost glad we're going into the Hunger Games. No matter how it goes, I won’t ever have to deal with Peeta again after this.

I go to stand beside Haymitch and Effie, and prepare to watch Peeta’s interview. I wonder what he will talk about.

I kind of feel annoyed at him the longer the interaction goes on. He and Caesar bounce effortlessly off each other, talking and joking about… showers? Anyway, the crowd seems to love it.

Then, everything changes.

Caesar leans in to Peeta conspiratorially. “So, Peeta,” he says in a whisper, but directly into the microphone of course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

“Uh, yeah, Caesar, there is.” Peeta looks a little red at the confession.

I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. We’re about to be slaughtered, and they’re discussing crushes? How ridiculous is that?

“Oh do tell.” Caesar sounds more like a teenage girl than a grown man. “We’d love to hear about her.”

Peeta clears his throat, and looks uncomfortably at the cameras. From my position inside, it’s like he’s staring right at me.

I quickly look away.

“Well,” Peeta begins, “she’s amazing. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I stuffed it up with her once. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

I glance at the screen uncertainly.

Peeta stares right back out at me. “I’m sorry for what I did. I want to do everything in my power to fix it. I promise. I love you.”

Caesar makes a squealing noise. “How adorable!” he exclaims. “You’ll have to get back to District 12 and she’ll have to forgive you.”

Peeta laughs uncomfortably. “That wouldn’t work, in my case.”

“And why not?”

“Because…” Peeta shifts in his seat. “Because she came here with me.”

I remember very little of the aftermath of Peeta’s comment. I know a flash of fury, disbelief, and shock ran through me at once. I know I dashed off to my room. I know I got out of my insane getup and collapsed into bed. I know I wanted to hit Peeta Mellark for that comment.

But after that, I know nothing.

I wake the next morning feeling sick to my stomach. I have a headache, my body feels stiff, and I’m still irrationally angry at Peeta. Well, it’s not irrational. It’s perfectly fine to hate him for what he did. And ‘apologising’ on live tv? It was like a sick joke.

I slowly get dressed in comfy pants and a loose, light blue blouse. I tie my hair up in a ponytail, and head for breakfast.

Everyone else is already there, But I ignore them all, pile my plate with as much food as I can, and sit myself down on the floor as far as possible from Peeta.

Effie huffs. “Good morning to you too, young lady.”

I answer by shoving a bread roll into my mouth whole.

“Ugh!” Effie is more than annoyed with me, but when I catch Haymitch’s eye by accident, he has a small smirk playing at his mouth, so I figure it’s not all bad.

“Hey, y/n,” Peeta tries.

I don’t reply, don’t even acknowledge him. I’m still so angry, so hurt from all those months ago. His words from back then mix with the ones from last night in my head, giving me a headache to match my heartbreak.

“You’re not… I’m sorry… I stuffed up… she’s amazing… I don’t want to… she came here with me… you mean nothing to me… not like that, y/n… I love you…”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to block it all out. All the memories.

It was a dark, depressing day. The weather sucked, but I guess that just meant it matched the rest of District Twelve.

I was heading home after school, and trying to work up my courage to do something I’d wanted to do for years.

I was going to tell Peeta Mellark that I loved him.

Everyone knew where he lived. The bakery was a pretty, inviting little place. The window was always filled with cakes, all decorated by Peeta himself.

I skipped up the front steps, knocking twice quickly on the dark blue painted door.

A woman answered, Peeta’s mother. “Hello.”

“Hi!” I pretended not to notice her quick glance at my less-than-clean dress, or my coal-covered boots and hair. I knew I wasn't as rich as their family. I wasn’t ashamed, but her look made me sad.

“I’m here to see Peeta,” I told her.

“Ah.” She narrowed her eyes at me, then disappeared. I hear hushed voices, but don’t try to listen in on the conversation.

I just stood there and waited. Soon, Peeta appeared in the doorway. “Hey, y/n,” he says uncertainly.

“Hey.” I decided to just say it—get it over with as quickly as possible. “I like you, Peeta. Like, like, like you.”

Peeta blinked at me, stunned. “You… oh.”

I chewed my lip, suddenly feeling like this was a horrible, horrible mistake. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve just pretended I wasn’t in love with him.

Peeta’s eyes looked conflicted, hurt, despairing. But his words, and his tone, are as hard and cold as ice. “I don’t like you. Not like that, y/n. You… you’re not… anything to me. Just a friend, an acquaintance even. You’re worth nothing to me behind that.”

I physically felt the pain of my heart breaking. I wanted to cry, run, hit something.

“Oh.” I managed. “That’s… that’s cool.” I turned on my heel and ran all the way home.

It’s been over a year since Peeta Mellark broke my heart, and I’ve never gotten over it. Even now, eating my breakfast, knowing we are both probably likely to die in the arena, I still can’t find it in myself to forgive him.

I don’t believe his little stunt last night. It was for the cameras, to make a statement and gain sponsors. He doesn’t love me. He made that pretty damn clear a year ago.

I slam my plate on the ground so hard it cracks in two. A mute, red-haired girl rushes over to help me clean it. I apologise to her, but I can’t stay in this room for a moment longer. I feel trapped, like I can’t breathe.

I find my way to an out of the way part of our complex, sitting against the wall in a little window alcove. I’m overlooking the Capitol central, the citizens milling about in their celebratory days before the Hunger Games.

I feel sick at the sight.

How can they be so enraptured by the horror that is the games? How can they find actual joy and pleasure watching kids die?

“Hey.”

I start, and turn, and see Peeta a few steps away from me.

“Hi,” I say back, a little stiffly.

He gestures at the ground beside me, and I nod. He gently sits down, looking slightly nervous.

“What’s up?” I say dully.

“Uh—nothing much, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” I have no patience for small talk, especially not now.

Peeta licks his lips and doesn’t meet my eyes. “I actually came to apologise.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. “As opposed to your apology earlier?”

Peeta grimaces. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Haymitch made me promise not to—and, I guess I just didn’t stop to think how you’d feel.”

I look away, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, well.”

“I’m also here to tell you the plan,” Peeta adds.

My gaze snaps back to him. “The plan?” I ask incredulously.

He nods. “This… star crossed lovers angle is really good for getting sponsors. It’ll help us gain friends in the Capitol—people who will want to help us.”

“Because it’s my goal in life to be besties with the Capitol,” I say flatly, and Peeta almost cracks a smile.

“If it’ll help to keep you alive, it is your goal.”

I shrug. “Whatever. What’s this plan?”

“Act like we’re in love.”

I stare at him for a second, then realise he’s dead serious. I deflate a little, but I know deep down he has a point. We need sponsors if we want to have any chance at all of winning the Games.

“Okay,” I say finally. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Training goes for three days, and it mostly sucks. I have zero talents, apparently, except for differentiating deadly plants from safe ones. Oh, I can also tie some knots. Not super helpful. I can’t throw a knife, shoot a bow, lift anything heavier than a couple kilos, or climb ropes very well.

As the third day comes to an end, I feel incredibly useless, and exceptionally hopeless. I’m going to be dead in a day, I can almost feel it.

Peeta actually had a pretty good chance. He’s very strong, and can lift even the heaviest of weights. He’s also a whiz at camouflage and starting fires. All bakery skills, I’ll wager.

As per Haymitch’s instructions, we stick together throughout the training, steering clear of the other tributes. We also touch whenever possible, holding hands, hugging, me letting Peeta touch my hair.

It’s all rather infuriating to me, but if it might help to keep Peeta alive for longer, then whatever. He needs to win. He needs to stay alive and get home to his family.

It’s finally the night before the Games, and to say I was completely terrified would be the absolute truth. I lie awake, goosebumps everywhere. I’m so scared I couldn’t eat anything at dinner, even though I know I should be trying to get up my strength. Who knows how long it might be before I can eat again.

I might be starving in that arena, or dehydrated, or freezing to death. Who knows? Maybe I’ll die right away, in the initial bloodbath.

I sit up in bed, sick of tossing and turning. I climb out, and head out my bedroom door. Surprisingly, it’s not locked. I guess they do have cameras literally everywhere, so they’d know if I was actually trying to escape. Which I’m not. That would be pointless. I’m going to die anyway.

Across the hall is Peeta’s room, and without thinking, I knock on his door. He opens it a second later, and his brow crunches together at the sight of me.

“Y/n?” he asks. “What are you—?”

“Can I come in?” I’m suddenly awkward, realising how weird this is.

Peeta nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Come in, please.” He steps aside and lets me pass. His room is indentical to mine.

I walk over to his bed and sit myself down on the silkily sheets. “Can I stay in here tonight?” I ask, not looking at Peeta.

I hear his bed creak beneath me as he sits too. “Yeah, ‘course you can.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then he adds, in a much softer voice, “Anytime.”

I wake up to the sun shining into the room, and for a moment, I forget entirely where I am, and what’s about to happen. I just sink into the pillows and close my eyes.

Then, I remember. The Games are today.

“Hey, you,” a voice says behind me, and I roll over in surprise. Peeta.

“Morning,” I say back, for some reason grateful he’s here. Having a familiar face to wake up to is much nicer than rising alone, facing the Games all by myself.

“Todays the day, huh?” Peeta asks, sitting up and frowning a little.

“Guess so,” I reply, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want to get up.”

Peeta laughs, and it’s a pretty sound. Too pretty for such an awful day.

There’s a knock on our door, and Effie’s voice filters through: “Het up you two, it’s going to be a big, big, big day!”

“How does she know I'm here?” I ask, sitting up straight.

Peeta shrugs. “The Capitol has a crap ton of cameras, y/n.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. Do they really need to know every single thing about us, before we die? It’s all so ridiculous I almost have to laugh.

“I’d better go get ready and stuff,” I tell him, sliding out of his bed. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

Peeta looks at me for a second, like he’s going to say something big, but just replies with, “See you in the arena.”

“Good luck.” And I’m gone.

“Ten seconds til launch.”

I take a deep breath, feel Cinna’s reassuring squeeze on my shoulder, and I step into the glass tube that will be taking me up into the arena.

“Bye, Cinna,” I half whisper. “Thank you for everything.”

He gives me a smile, that somehow is genuinely caring. “Good luck, my dear girl.”

Something inside the tube clicks, and it slides shut, locking me into my fate. It begins to slowly rise, and so does my anxiety. I come completely out of the tube, and bright, blazing sunlight temporarily blinds me. When I can see again, my throat squeezes in terror and anticipation. All of us are the same distance apart, standing on little pods that I know we can’t step off of without being blown to the sky.

In the middle of the tribute circle is a metal cornucopia, with various weapons and supplies arranged around it, trying to tempt us. I remember Haymitch’s advice to leave it all alone and just run to the woods.

That’s when I remember Peeta. I glance left, seeing a girl from District Seven, I think, who’s also looking in my direction. Beyond her is a tall, dark boy I’ve never really paid attention to other than to get out of his way. I think his name is Thresh.

I squint, frantically trying to locate Peeta. I finally spot him, the farthest tribute I can see to my right. He’s already got his eyes on me, and is shaking his head. Why? What’s he trying to tell me?

Suddenly, the bell is sounding, and there’s a flash of movement as the tributes all simultaneously leave their pedestals, most heading right for the cornucopia. I freeze, my body not reacting at all. I force myself to move, running in just close enough to snatch up a small blue backpack, and then I sprint in Peeta’s direction. I just manage to catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the woods, so I head that way.

About an hour later, I still haven’t caught up to Peeta, or seen any other tributes. Sounds of the bloodbath behind me have faded away now, and nothing but the occasional animal or bird or wind sounds now echo through the forest.

It would almost be peaceful, if I wasn’t where I was.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, someone grabs my arm from behind. I let out a scream, and a hand slaps over my mouth. I struggle, but I’m not strong at the best of times.

“Calm down!” It’s Peeta’s voice. “It’s just me, y/n, jeez.”

I twist him off me and whirl to face him. My glare is almost enough to murder him right then and there. “Don’t scare me like that!” I hiss. “You idiot!” I hit him, half out of the fear bubbling inside of me and half out of relief he’s here and alive and with me.

“Sorry, my love,” Peeta replies, cracking a flirtatious smile. “I won’t do it again.”

I narrow my eyes at him, half annoyed and half embarrassed at how much relief is flooding inside of me at this sight of him, alive and well and here.

“Allies?” Peeta asks.

A laugh bubbles up, and surprises both of us. Peeta laughs too, but then shushes me. “Let’s not get killed just yet, okay?” he suggests. “I’d like to hang out with the love of my life first.”

And for some reason, I don’t even disagree.

[blingblong55]

Must be love -Simon "Ghost" Riley

Photo credit: @ave661 ---- F!Reader, plus size!reader, fluff, comfort, established!relationship, body image issues ----

A/N: I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him

He was home late, the sun outside gone by the time he walked through the door and then he heard it, small cries coming from the bathroom. Oh his pretty princess, getting into that head of yours. He shakes his head, walks into the bathroom and the image in front of him breaks his heart. In your bra and panties, hand over your soft tummy as tears run down your delicate face. "Oh, my love," his warm and strong arms wrapping you in a comforting hug. You look up at him through the mirror, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

The bathroom is silent, only your breathing being the sound in that room. He shakes his head, "I don't care what you say or think, I love you for you, so...let me remind you of that," his lips begin to trail to your neck but you push away. Putting the robe on and walk away from him. He frowns, this time, you definitely must be way too deep in your head. He tries to pull you back in as he follows you around the place. 

"What is the matter, darling?"

You sigh and turn to him, “Simon, just say it, if my body bothers you just say it. I don’t want you to pretend you like what you see.” Tears run down your delicate face just like before. “Honestly, I do find you attractive. Your body doesn’t bother me. I know the problem is your weight and how you look but that doesn’t mean I don’t find you attractive because my love, to me, god...to me you are the epitome of perfection. You are the pinnacle of what a goddess looks like," he tries to make you understand. 

You shake your head, not taking in his words, "Bullshit. Just admit it, admit you want some skinny, perfect girl that looks like a model and not this!" You hold your tummy. He sighs in frustration, "I don't want that! I don't want someone else! Fuck-I want you R/N!" Tears form in his eyes. If only you could see your beauty. How the sun shines brighter, how the world seems to stop just to admire you. He was so used to being cold, to never say too much but in this moment, all emotions rushed in. He takes a deep breath and looks at you, "I care about you, I do. You are the best god damn fucking thing that's happened to me in years. I don't want anyone else, I don't care what others say about our love. To me, this is perfection, the way you smile, the way you love me, and care for me and I love how you cuddle to me in the morning, I love all things about you, why can't you see that?"

He goes to cup your face but you look down, biting your tongue down as you wipe your tears away. Simon is desperate now, his voice softer than before. "My darling, don't shut me out. Let's not do this, don't shut me out," he pleas. 

“Why do you fancy me?” You look down at your body. 

"Easy. Your personality is amazing. You are this very kind, sweet and patient woman. I don't think I have ever met a girl with your qualities. When I was younger I admit I dated girls for their looks and with you...oh aren't you special." His voice was soft like he was reading some poem. "You are the first woman that I've fallen in love with for her personality and that is far more important than looks. You are a million-no..a billion times more important to me than all those women before you." 

"Aren't you ashamed for dating..this?" Your voice is small, trying to find its place in a room full of devotion. Simon shakes his head, getting annoyed at you. "Why must you call yourself "this"? You are my girlfriend. And to answer that stupid question, no, I'm not ashamed, not at all. The more I see you, the more I find you beautiful." You look up at him, "People must think you've gone mad for going out with me-" he doesn't let you finish that sentence. 

"Lovie, I don't give a fuck. I'm not in a relationship to impress everyone. My feelings are genuine, you are the one thing that matters to me. And if I cared about a bunch of superficial cunts thought about you then I'd be dead..because I'd die fighting to love you out loud." Why must his love talk down about her physical appearance? Why can't you understand he'd die for one kiss from those sweet lips of yours? 

And, still, in that head, you look up at him, saying yet another idiotic sentence, "You shouldn't be with me." In that head of yours, he was this strong, attractive, smart and genuinely good man so it didn't make sense that he chose you. From all the women in the world, he chose you, kissed you and whispered I love you into your ear. Simon is disheartened by this. "That's it, you hear me!? I'm getting tired of you talking shit about the girl I love. I would pick you up in a room full of models. What, do you want me to just date someone else?" 

You shrug at that question "I'm just your fat fucking girlfriend." He gets furious, "Fucking shit, my love! Why are you acting like this? I don't give a fuck about anyone else. They aren't important to me, you are. Don't you hear what else I've got to say? I love you for who you are, not for your looks! I don't see you as "my fat girlfriend". You are the love of my life. Can't you understand that, my love?" 

“Because how can you love me!” 

He shakes his head and pulls you in, "I love you, okay? Get that shit through your stubborn head. I love all of you from your personality to that amazing body of yours. I love that adorable face of yours, the soft curves you have and your everything. I would do anything for you, you ask it and I do it. I don't know how I can make you understand me but I want it to be clear that my love for you runs deep."

You break down crying and he pulls you into one of his cosy and strong hugs. "Oh my love, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you this way, I didn't mean to make you upset." Your sobs are muffled by his hold on you. "You can't keep putting yourself down. I was angry, yes my love, but now all I care about is making you happy and letting you know, you are loved." He kisses your forehead, "I love you so much, don't forget it," he whispers. 

Just as you are about to say something, he picks you up. "Let me cuddle the negativity out of you, lovie," he smiles, walking up the stairs. "..Am I heavy-?" He shakes his head, giving you another kiss on the cheek, "Darling, no. I'm meant to carry my lovie," he lays you on the bed, placing all the pillows around you. "Comfortable, lovie?" His voice is soft. You nod, "Thank you, Si," you reach for him and with his winning smile, he lays beside you, cuddling you. 

"I always dreamed of having a sweet girl all to myself," he mentions casually and you look back. "Don't make me emotional," you nudge him and he laughs. What a sweet noise that laugh is. It's lazy but still so sweet to your ears. Your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat comforting you. "I'll always love you, Simon."

"To the moon and back," he whispers. 

A/N: I didn't tag those in the tag list since I wasn't sure anyone would be comfortable with being tagged in a plus-sized reader fic, I hope you understand

Tags:

@liyanahelena @aethelwyneleigh27 @carolfogosa @1234beeandpuppycat @l0nalol @idiotuvu-blog @willowaftxn83-87

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[artbyblastweave]

Hey so, thought exercise, how do you think Taylor would fare if she got dropped into the invincible universe? For the sake of mechanics let's say she literally gets dropped in via doorman portal or something.

So one thing about Invincible is that I think it's setting is protagonist-centric in a way that Worm's isn't. To the extent that Invincible's setting has worldbuilding- worldbuilding that isn't, like, ported in from the books's early association with the confederated Image Comics shared universe- it's worldbuilding that exists to convey the impression of a big-two-flavor universe. Here's our spin on the undersea kingdom, here's the riff on the Martians, here are our riffs on SHIELD, on Gotham, on Themyscira, on 70s blaxploitation-adjacent heroes, and so on. This is the entire ethos underpinning the Guardians of the Globe in particular- piggybacking on pre-existing audience affection for the Justice League to convey that it's a Big Fucking Deal when the guardians get blendered in issue 7.

You have flashbacks demonstrating that there was capital-S Superhero Stuff going on in the seventies and eighties, or as far back as the thirties with Immortal, you create the impression of a status quo, a big pond in which Mark is a little fish. And to Kirkman's credit, some effort clearly went into making sure that the non-Mark capes are sufficiently fleshed out that you can believe that they've got other stuff going on in their lives. But at the end of the day, it's the Invincible universe. You don't see a lot of people talking about the Guarding the Globe spinoff. Many of the most interesting characters- Cecil being a big example here- are interesting because of the ways in which they bounce off Mark specifically, the ways in which he chooses to deal with them. The universe is less of a character in the story the way that Earth Bet is- it's just the place where Mark's story, specifically, is happening. If there's a codified setting bible, I'll eat my hat.

Now of course the world of Worm is, in many ways, equally Taylor-centric, because that's what it means to be the protagonist. But owing in part to the themes of the story, and in part to the sheer number of false-start protagonists Wildbow played around with before settling on Taylor, it's very good at conveying the idea that there are many stories happening in this setting and Taylor's is just the one this particular work happened to focus on. There's an actual point to doing OC worldbuilding for what the superhero scene looks like in Wormverse Denver or Seattle or whatever- whereas you can come up with superhero teams for Invincible-verse Denver, but what actually ties them to that universe? What are you getting out of putting them in Invincible specifically, that you wouldn't get from whipping up a barebones MASKS setting to support your OCs? Anyway. This is a really long way of getting to my real point, which is that I think the question is less "how does Taylor bounce off the Invincible setting" and more "How does Taylor bounce off Invincible the character, around whom the setting orbits even when it pretends not to."

This I'm unsure of, because where do you stick her in his life where you get an interesting dynamic? One thing that's interesting here is that Mark's overall character arc already involves learning a lot of taylorisms- the strategic ruthlessness, the shift from a good-evil dichotomy to a helping-not-helping dichotomy-so what about his arc is going to change if they spend time together? Why would they spend time together? Given the different power levels on display, what would differentiate her, in his experience, from the dozens of filler capes that exist for him at the level of "vague acquaintance?" This is assuming she's active as a cape at all, which she might not be if this is Post-GM. Mutual association through Cecil and the Global Defense Agency might be a hook- maybe they're paying for her new arm or something- but would she latch her cart to Cecil's wagon in the first place, barring some obvious crisis situation? Hard to say. If she's depowered, and present in his life somehow in a civilian context, well, that's a fast-track to not being part of the story anymore either, given how Mark's civilian connections slowly fading away was kind of a quiet plot point.

There's some configuration of these pieces that could be interesting, but I'm not quite sure what they are. Soliciting input here.

[holylulusworld]

Backpack - Kinktober 17

Summary: You've got a new neighbor.

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: Thigh riding

Warnings: ogling, cocky reader, thigh riding, implied smut

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

You were about to spend your Friday night like every Friday night. The bathtub was waiting for you, along with a glass of wine and a book or your vibrator. Whatever would make you fall asleep sooner?

That was until your eyes landed on your new neighbor. A cigarette dangling from his mouth as he watches you. He puffs on the cigarette, inhaling deeply as you watch him with curiosity.

“Who is that?” You crane your neck to get a better look at the man standing across the street. He flips the cigarette away and nods in your direction. “What is he up to?” Licking your lips, you watch the man turn around. He uses a remote control to open the garage. 

“That’s the new neighbor. I think his name is Teller,” you dip your head to glance at your neighbor, Patsy. If anything happens in your neighborhood, Patsy is the person you go to. She knows everything about everyone. “I think he’s a biker or something.”

“A biker.” Oh, your Friday night just got interesting. Your new neighbor rolls his bike backward out of the garage. “Maybe our little neighborhood gets a bit more interesting now.”

“I hope he doesn’t throw loud parties and lure more bikers in,” Patsy wrinkles her nose as the bike roars to life.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” you tut. Your eyes are glued to your new neighbor’s bike. You always had a thing for bikes. Sadly, you never were brave enough to ride a bike. You always chickened out.

“That monster is loud, and stinks,” she points at the bike. “I will make a note and talk to the other neighbors about that…uh…”

“It’s a Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport,” you roll your eyes as she takes notes. “If you want to complain about it, you should know its name.” 

Two weeks later you’re watching your neighbor again. Watching him became your newest hobby. Whenever he works on his bike or prepares to go on a ride, you watch him.

Today you pretend to water your roses as he rolls his bike out of the garage. All you know about the mysterious man haunting your dreams is his name. Jax Teller. 

You sigh as you imagine becoming his backpack. Your legs and arms slung around his body while you go on a ride with him.

“Maybe I should talk to him,” you say to yourself. If you want your fantasies to come true, you must talk to him eventually. “I can do this.”

Placing the watering can on the ground you take a deep breath.

You’re wearing your favorite summer dress and light makeup. Usually, you don’t wear this kind of outfit at home, but you want to impress your new neighbor.

You cheer yourself up while walking toward your neighbor. He sits on his bike, smoking a cigarette. His eyes are glued to you step toward him and his bike.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, smirking as you put one hand on your hips, and push your tits out. “I’m Jax. Your new neighbor.”

“I know,” you take the cigarette out of his hand to take a puff. You try not to cough, not used to smoking. “I like your bike.”

“Thanks,” Jax grins. He’s got a lot of women fawning all over him and wonders if you are different. “What’s your name? I didn’t get it.”

“It’s Y/N,” stepping closer to his bike you run your fingertips over the handlebars. “Excuse me, but…can I go for a ride?” You look him straight in the eyes, holding his intense gaze as you try not to show that you’re nervous as hell.

“Sure baby,” he grins. “Let me get a helmet.”

“Oh,” you move your hand to his thigh, gently squeezing it, “I didn’t mean the bike.” 

He inhales sharply, but his eyes darken. “You’re a bold one,” Jax smirks darkly. “How about we go on a ride with my Harley, and you can get that ride later…”

Just as promised, Jax took you on a ride. You enjoyed every minute. It was just like you always imagined. Wild, and free.

But your night didn’t end when he drove back inside his garage. 

Jax didn’t let you chicken out. He took you to his home, whispering filthy words in your ear as you tried not to pounce on him right on the front porch.

Now, in his bedroom you watch him sit on his bed as he watches you like a hawk in return. 

“I want you to take off your panties,” Jax demands. He holds out his hand and clicks his tongue when you take too long. “No thinking. Take off your panties and come here.”

His voice raspy voice goes straight to your core. “Okay.” You breathe out as you move your hands under your dress to shove your panties down your legs. You step out of your panties and pick them up.

“Come here,” he pats his thigh. “I want you to go on the ride of your life,” Jax smirks as you place your panties in his hands. He presses the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Your pussy smells so good.”

You make an odd noise. No man ever told you that your pussy smells good. “How? I mean…”

“Take what you want.” Jax points at his lap, but you have other plans. You straddle his lap and grip his shoulder for balance. 

“I wanna ride,” you wrap one arm around his shoulders, “your thigh. It looks so inviting.”

He laughs and throws his head back. “Go ahead, baby. When you are done, I’m going to ride your pussy until you beg me to stop.”

Ignoring his mocking tone, you sit on his thigh and wiggle your hips.

“You’re mine,” you purr against his lips as you try to find the perfect position. 

When you feel comfortable on top of Jax, you slowly start rocking back and forth on his thigh. It feels good, and sinful at the same time. Jax is a stranger to you, but here you are eagerly riding his thigh.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my leg, sweetness. I want you to make yourself cum. Rub that pretty clit,” he breathes against your lips. “Fuck, me baby. Come on.”

“Ah,” you whine loudly as you drag your pussy over Jax’s leg. “Fuck. This feels so good. I’m gonna soak your pants.”

“Do it,” Jax’s breathing quickens. “I want to be a good girl and soak my pants and thigh. I want to smell like your cunt.”

 Jax grips your hips, now guiding your movement to get you off as fast as possible. Your moans turn into cries, and he smirks. 

He knows you are going to be his after tonight. Jax can hardly wait to ruin your pussy thoroughly. 

Tags in reblog.

[t3ag3rs]

g e n s o - 0 4.

gosh this is going to be a long year..

you let out a sigh while resting your head on your hands, observing the class yelling. the blue haired guy with a stick up his ass from the presentation was currently yelling at bakugou. sadly, he sat at the left of you and was currently getting and earful for putting his legs on the desk. honestly though.. it wasnt even that big of a deal for him to be yelling like that.

you let out a small laugh as you saw deku turn a bright red once he saw uraraka. oh my gosh hes down badddd..... im so gonna tease him about this later on.

"if your just here to make friends then you can pack up your stuff now." said a stoic voice from behind deku and uraraka. "welcome to UAs hero course" continued the same voice before unzipping himself from the sleeping bag he had on and standing up. 

"it took 8 seconds for you all to shut up and thats not gonna work, time is precious. any rational student would understand that" he explained walking into the class. you turned your focus to the male talking. 

"hello im shota aizawa, your teacher. alright lets get to it, put these on and head outside." you walked up and grabbed a uniform before heading into the locker room to change.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you widen your eyes as you find out you have to do a quirk assessment test, goddamnt..! i just finally started recovering from the entrance exam and i have to use my quirk again?  

"but how about orientation? we're gonna miss it!" exclaimed uraraka, "to be the best of the best you cant waste time on pointless things, here at UA i get to run my class the way i want to." said mr. aizawa, "youve been taking standardized tests all of your lives" he pulled up his phone, "but youve never been able to use you quirks on those exams before."

"the country is still trying to pretend we're created all equal by not letting those with the most power excel- its not rational. one day the ministry of education will learn... bakugou you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam- what was your farthest distance thrown with the softball when you were in junior high?" he asked looking at him.

"67 meters i think" replied bakugou and you rolled your eyes, god hes a try hard... "right. try doing it with your quirk now."

bakugou walked up and stood in the middle of the circle on the feild. "whatever happens just stay in the circle.. go on, your wasting our time." added mr. aizawa.

"alright.. you asked for it" bakugou stretched his arms before throwing it with an explosion. you rolled your eyes knowing he did that to make the others look. 

"all of you need to know your full potential in order to become better versions of yourselves." he held up his phone to show the distance that bakugou had thrown the softball revealing 705.2 meters.

everyone around you started commenting in awe of his score, but you werent impressed, ill make sure i beat that score just to deflate his ego.

"so this looks fun huh..?" you turned your attention back to the teacher, "you have three years here to become a hero. if you think its going to be all fun and games your wrong. idiots..." he let out a smirk, "today youll be competing in 8 physical tests to engage your potential, whoever comes in last has none and will be expelled immediately." your eyes widen in shock, can he even do that??

"like i said.. i get to decide how this class runs. understand?" you gulped but nodded. "if thats a problem you can head home right now."

"you cant send one of us home! i mean, we just got here!" complained uraraka, "even if it wasnt the first day, that isnt fair!" you looked down, complaining isnt going to do anything right now, but she has a good point.

"and you think natural disasters are? power hungry villians? hm? or accidents that wipe out whole cities? no- the world is full of unfairness. its a heroes job to try and fight that unfairness, if you wanna be a pro your going to have to push yourself to the brink. for the next three years UA is going to throw one hardship after another at you. so go beyond- plus ultra style. show me its no mistake your here."

you clenched your fists, you had to prove yourself today by doing the most you could in these tests.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the first test was the 50 meter dash, you silently thanked yourself for increasing your cardio as you readied yourself. "runners! on your mark, get set, go!" you sprinted and let the earth beneath you propel yourself forward getting you in first place out of the people you were with. "4.002 seconds!" said the bot next to you, you smirked as you beat bakugous time.

the next test was the grip strength test. you didnt have much to help you with this so you had to think creatively, maybe i could get some rock to surround my hand and use that to add on the pressure of my grip... i have no idea if thatll even work..!

you let out a sigh as the highest you got was 190 kilograms. if thats the best i can get thats fine i guess... ill just have to make it up with the other tests...

the third test was the standing long jump, you smiled as you could use your fire to push yourself forward in this test. you jumped and let your fire push you forward, smiling as you landed on the other side of the pit. 

that was way better than the last test thankfully!

the fourth test was the repeated side steps. you decided to use your earthbending to build walls on either side of you and use air to move yourself side to side. it wasnt your best test, but definitely wasnt your worst one. (cough grip test cough)

the fifth test was the ball throw, you stood in the circle and swung your arm in big circles before grabbing the ball and readying your self to swing as hard as you could. throwing the ball, you left your arm out to let the air continue its throw until you felt yourself running out of air. you let out a proud smile as you saw your result of 1,890 meters.

you turned toward bakugou and made eye contact with him, but resisted the urge in smirking at how you beat him by a long shot. 

you let out a gasp as deku went and saw how his ball barely went far. "i erased your quirk- someone like you should never be able to enroll in this school. the judges who were selecting students werent rational enough when picking you." suddenly deku spoke up, "i know you- you can look at someone and cancel out their powers! the eraser hero- eraserhead!"

you chuckled as the rest of the students had no clue who he was, of course deku would know who he was. 

"your not ready- you have no control over your power. are you just going to break your bones again?" deku let out a defensive disagreement, "you will be nothing because of how reckless you are. your worthless if all it takes is one punch for you to become broken." you stepped up.

"um.. excuse me! look sorry to interrupt, but i think your taking this a bit too far! he has just as much of potential as the rest of us, and he definitely has more heroism than any of us combined! im not saying this to argue with you, but im just saying you should give him a fair try like the rest of us." you explained sticking up for deku.

mr. aizawa let go of deku, "go on and get it over with, dont waste our time." you looked over and gave him a smile before giving him a thumbs up. he walked back to the middle of the circle and took in a deep breath before he swung his arm and threw it with enough force to create a gust of wind. you widened your eyes in shock and smiled, there we go!

you looked at the phone to see his distance of 705.3 meters, one tenth more than bakugous score. you smiled happily knowing he mustve been scathing on the inside for how he scored lower than deku.

"mr. aizawa.." you turned to see deku making a fist with his broken finger, "you see.. im still standing!" "this kid..." replied aizawa with widened eyes and an unsettling smile.

"HEY! DEKU! YOU BASTARD, TELL ME HOW YOU DID THAT OR YOUR DEAD!" yelled bakugou as he charged toward deku, you quickly stepped forward to try and prevent bakugou before he was held back by aizawas scarf. "stand down, i would be wise to make not make me use my quirk so much.. it gives me serious dry eye. your wasting my time now.. whoevers next can step up." he let go of bakugou and walked away.

you watched as deku ran away from bakugou as he just stood their frustrated. 

you finished up the last couple of tests that were just based off of physical ability and scored well enough for each of them. you let out a smile as you saw the results and saw yourself in third place, one place higher than bakugou. 

thats what that asswipe deserves.. i hope he never forgets this..

"and i was lying- no one is going home. that was just a way to make sure you gave it your all" mr. aizawa added smiling, you let out a sound of happiness, glad deku didnt have to be expelled.

"that was pretty nerve-wracking if im being honest.." said a black haired boy, "nah.. im always down for a challenge!" said the red haired boy from the presentation. "oh i remember you!" he said pointing at you, you smiled and waved. "your quirk is so cool dude! you managed to score third place out of us all!" you laughed and scratched your neck, "haha.. its not the best i couldve done... but thank you!"

"thats all for today, grab the syllabus from the class, and read it before tomorrow morning." added aizawa before walking away. you turned back to the red haired boy, "im ejirou kirishima, your y/n l/n right?" you nodded, "howd you know?" he laughed, "everyone knows about that stunt you pulled during the practical exam.." you blushed before looking down, "ahhh.. thats so embarrassing..!"

"nah, i thought it was pretty manly of you!" he praised while you both walked back into the building. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you changed out of your training outfit, and put back on your uniform before getting ready to head out. "hey y/n!" you turned around to see kirishima and a pink skinned girl behind you. "oh.. hey!" they walked beside you, "heya! im mina ashido!" the girl introduced while grabbing your arm. you let out a smile as she did so, "im y/n l/n if you havent already heard.." she laughed, "nah i already know who you are! the badass who totally kicked the zero pointers ass!" she exclaimed. 

"as you can see shes very energetic.." sighed out kirishima from the other side of you, you laughed before adding, "its alright though.. it makes her stand out in a way.."

you walked home with them laughing and exchanging numbers. you couldnt believe how nice and chill they were. 

could this be the year things finally get better for you?

previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 next parts: pt. 0 5 / pt. 0 6 / pt. 0 7 / pt. 0 8 / pt. 0 9 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12 / pt. 13

[ghouljams]

Ghoul ghoul ghoul, idk if you've listened to the new Hozier song "too sweet" yet but I'm having some SEVERE brain wormies and I need them out before they consume me. It's just ugh- At first I was like- oh man, this is totally a Ghost song and it could still kinda be a Ghost song. But then Hozier himself dropped from the clouds and slammed my head into the radio and that's when I realized, this isn't a Ghost song. No no. This is a Price song. I could see this as him rejecting a much younger person.

He likes you, he does. You're this sweet, young thing who's just fallen head over heels and he's flattered. Really! But... you're too young. Too sweet. Maybe one day when you've grown up a bit more, gotten some more life experience or maybe never. In truth, you may never be bitter enough for him. He needs someone that's aged like him, someone who can match his stride. Just AHHHHHHH it's so Price coded I swear I'm gonna cry.

- 🦈 anon

OK FIRST OF ALL

All day baby, we're on 48 hour Unreal Unearth Unheard lockdown. I'm studying these songs like I'm a gonna write a thesis on them. "Too Sweet" is a Ghost song baby, but it can apply to Price as well. Here's my interpretation of it. I was going to include how it relates to the boys but uh... this got long...

I don't think it's about a younger partner at all, I also see this as a song more about the narrator than the subject...

Diving in with Verse 1

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's 10 o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well? You keep tellin' me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend Baby, now and then

Our subject is a morning person, they're up early while the narrator is sleeping in. The narrator clearly doesn't sleep well, for one reason or another, they even ask how the subject sleeps so well. But then we get this line that defines the whole song.

"You keep tellin' me to live right"

The subject isn't just an early bird, they're the sort of person who sees this as a health issue. They go to bed, sleep well, and wake up with the sunrise to enjoy the day. By contrast the narrator goes to bed in the wee hours of the morning and is clearly living a life that isn't healthy in the subjects eyes.

But the narrator also doesn't believe that the subject is truly the healthy person they "pretend" to be.

[Pre-Chorus] Don't you just wanna wake up Dark as a lake Smellin' like a bonfire Lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe I think it's great But while in this world

Here the narrator describes his nights spend out in the darkness partying. Lost in a haze of booze or drugs, he says it's great that the subject is "drunk on life" but he'd prefer to get "lost in a haze." He questions why the subject wouldn't want to join him in this lifestyle, we go into the chorus with the understanding that the narrator is "enjoying" life through his unhealthy habits.

[Chorus] I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me I take my whiskеy neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for mе You're too sweet for me

He takes his whiskey neat, which gives this wonderful impression of masculinity and sounds very clean, but in reality he may as well be pulling straight from the bottle. Whiskey neat just means no ice, no nothing to distill the liquor down. Then he takes his coffee black, again we get this sort of rich bitterness, but he contrasts it, he drinks it in his bed at 3. There's no good 3 at which he's drinking black coffee, pm or am.

The narrator lives his life in bitterness, in unhealthy habits. Of course his subject is "too sweet" for him, they're healthy and seem happy. In contrast the narrator doesn't seem happy so much as he feels pre-destined to this life. He doesn't want to change his habits because this life feels almost deserving to him. He's lost in the haze, he's taking pulls straight from the bottle and waking up late in the day only to do it all over again.

[Verse 2] I aim low I aim true, and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong

Oof verse 2. This is where I think we really see where the narrator sees their lives diverging. "The ground's where I go" his life is going downhill, he's headed for an early grave, but he can't divert the arrow. He is forced to lower his aim because this is the cycle. Hozier himself said this song was meant for the circle of gluttony, and I hear it. The idea that his consumption, his over consumption is going to kill him one day.

And he tries to justify it! "I work late... the job gets done" he's away from his phone, the subject can't reach him, healthy habits can't reach him. But he deserves to let loose, because he's getting the job done. He sees this as a freedom, as a reward, and yet he knows it worries the subject, but by his own words "who wants to live forever"? If he's already destined for the grave why shouldn't he enjoy it?

Contrasted again by the subject. "You treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate" he sees the subject as preachy, they keep trying to offer him salvation he doesn't want, and the words hit him as almost fictitious. He's so deep in the hole that even the hand held out to him seems like it's coming from heaven, so far is he from his baby. "The rest of you like it's the TSA" regimented, the subject has rules that they follow dutifully, they have a routine, they're strict with what they let through their filters. And the narrator wishes he could go along with it! He admires it, but for one reason or another he can't.

[Pre-Chorus] You know you're bright as the morning As soft as the rain Pretty as a vine As sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel Maybe I'll wait Until that day

Ok this is the part I think makes people imagine it's about a younger person. The lines "If you can sit in a barrel/ Maybe I'll wait" people think is about aging, but I disagree. I think it's about embittering the subject. Grapes are sweet, wine is dry and bitter, it's hot in the blood. The narrator is saying that if the subject can grow to be as bitter (and alcoholic) as he is then maybe he'd be able to stick to them.

BUT in the background going to the chorus we hear church bells, we hear wedding bells. The narrator is vividly in love with the subject even though they're such opposites. I think he wants the subject to save him, but he can't find the strength to ask. He's telling them that he loves them, they're all these wonderful opposites to him, but they don't understand his bitterness for one reason or another. He can imagine a future with them, he can hear the wedding bells, but he can't stop pushing them away. He knows they're right, knows they're good for him, but he's not ready to be saved yet.

[Chorus] I'd rather take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me I take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

This last chorus really seals it for me. It's so powerfully sung, again the narrator is justifying his lifestyle to the subject, but it's more desperate. He's trying to convince himself as much as them. The wedding bells ring, the narrator pushes this too sweet person away because he knows he's bad for them. He wants to make them bitter, he wants to make them more like himself instead of changing his habits, and he knows that's wrong. It's a declaration, "You're too sweet for me" find someone else, find someone that doesn't drink from the bottle, that can wake up with you and go to bed with you, find someone that doesn't want to ruin you the way I do.

I think the fact that the bells ring all the way through the end of the last chorus lines signals that the subject sticks around, that they're determined to help the narrator, and finally when the song ends (rather abruptly) the narrator gives in. His life of debauchery ends, and that pretty thing, soft as the rain, is no longer too sweet for him.

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Could you possibly do a canon Captain Levi Ackerman x cadet reader enemies to lovers fic please?? Preferably where the reader is injured and her Captain has to look after her. Plenty of the feels would be appreciated haha. I love your writing btw :)

Hi lovebug! Id love to, thank you so much <3

~.~.~.~.~.~

“How could you be so foolish?” Levi berates you, his tone completely opposite his gentle hands as they bandage your arm.

“I mean I told you how dangerous the mission was, you knew how dangerous it was! And you went on your own anyway?”

You’d given up explaining your behavior at this point, resolving to keep your eyes glued to the hole in the floorboards.

“Y/n,” He sighs, “You could’ve jeopardized our entire mission. You need to be more careful with these things.”

You nod pathetically. There’s silence for a moment as your heart aches. If you’d ever had a chance of him returning your feelings, that had been kicked out and spat on.

“Thank you.” You offer.

His hands pause as his eyes search your face. You mean it, you’re a terrible liar.

“You’re welcome.” He resumes wrapping the bandage until it’s tight then secures it.

“Do you ever-” You stop and make a face.

“Do I ever what, cadet?”

“Do you ever look at the stars?”

You’ve caught him off guard, his face shifts for just a moment before recovering it’s facade.

“Sure. Why?”

You shrug and poke at your arm.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if this is all it is to it.”

Levi gets what you mean, but he ignores that familiar feeling.

“Do you have any other injuries?”

You pull up your shirt slowly to reveal a nasty gash on your stomach, hissing through your teeth as the cold air hits it. He pretends to be unaffected but his nose wrinkles in sympathy.

After a second of him cleaning a wound, he replies to your earlier statement.

“I do too. Sometimes.”

You look up at his face, horribly hardened and focused on only looking at your torso. Then you laugh and shake your head.

“Feels like a bad joke, doesn’t it? Of all the cards we could’ve been dealt, we get this hand.”

He agrees and wonders for a second what made you so hurt all the time. He’ll never admit it, but your strength in the face of life is admirable. The fact that you still hold onto yourself even through all the pain is impressive.

“Someday,” You continue, “Someday, I’ll have a daughter and by the time she’s my age, the world will have given her every good thing she wants. And she’ll be the happiest woman you’ve ever seen. One of those girls who carries flowers in her pockets everywhere and laughs a little too loud in pubs. She’ll be good.”

You sound like you’re talking about the past, reminiscing on something you’ve lost yourself. Levi considers that you might be talking about yourself, he wished he could have known you when you gave out flowers. He’d like to have had one from you.

“If she’s as reckless as her mother, she’ll be dead before she can do all that.”

You snort and wince when you remember your pain.

“She’ll be smarter than i’ll ever be. She’ll have a really smart father.”

He notices the way you look at him and crushes the thought of looking back at you.

“She ought to. She needs someone with sense in her life.”

“He has enough sense to make up for my lack.”

Levi’s eyes find yours for the first time tonight and he sees a future in them. A beautiful future he wants to be apart of. He could get lost in there and never return.

“Does he?” His heart skips a beat.

“He does. Smartest man I know.” You agree with shining pupils.

[edenmemes]

stranger things s4 starters

❝ how are you feeling today? ❞   ❝ what have you done? ❞   ❝ you speak of monsters, superheroes. that’s the stuff of myth and fairytales. ❞   ❝ are you stalking me or something? ❞   ❝ i know it’s a lot of blood, but you’re going to be okay. ❞   ❝ it’s like you’re not even here anymore. it’s like you’re a ghost. ❞   ❝ i can only help you if you’re truthful. if you open up to me. ❞   ❝ it’s okay to not be okay. ❞   ❝ even with it staring you in the face, you can’t admit it. can’t admit you’re wrong. ❞   ❝ it’s just scary to open up like that. to say how you really feel. especially to people you care about the most. ❞   ❝ i think maybe a part of me died that day too. ❞   ❝ it looks like a fairytale. a dream. ❞   ❝ everyone looks at me like...like i’m a monster. ❞   ❝ you start to believe all the things they say. that this place is cursed. ❞   ❝ do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind? ❞   ❝ look, i’m just trying to turn that frown upside down. ❞   ❝ this year is my year. i can feel it. ❞   ❝ i’m afraid you can become lost in the darkness. ❞   ❝ why do you keep pushing me away? ❞   ❝ i want today to be about me and you. ❞   ❝ if they wanna find out who you are, they will. ❞   ❝ please, just go away. ❞   ❝ only by facing all of ourselves, the good and the bad, can we become whole. ❞   ❝ i play that moment back in my head all the time. ❞   ❝ so much has happened since you left. ❞   ❝ did i survive? no, i assure you, i am still very much in hell. ❞   ❝ you are scared. you’re tired. you are injured. ❞   ❝ you’re not what i thought you’d be like. ❞   ❝ i just want to say thanks for saving my ass back there. ❞   ❝ hey, we don’t need to do this. ❞   ❝ you think because you demonstrate some talent that you’re somehow immune to the rules? ❞   ❝ why is this on me? why am i the bad guy? ❞   ❝ never tell me the odds. ❞   ❝ i don’t even know how to describe it. i’ve never seen anything like it. ❞   ❝ there’s nothing to worry about. okay? ❞   ❝ sorry. didn’t mean to scare you. ❞   ❝ now, where does it hurt? ❞   ❝ this place and the people here are not what you think. ❞   ❝ i am different. i do not belong. ❞   ❝ so, um, are we just not gonna talk about it? ❞   ❝ just try to take some deep breaths. ❞   ❝ if i show you something, you wouldn’t tell anyone, right? ❞   ❝ people just change, okay? that’s it. ❞   ❝ you gotta stop pretending to be someone else. ❞   ❝ i was so excited to see you, it was hard to breathe. ❞   ❝ i’ll smile as i watch them die a slow, agonizing death. ❞   ❝ thirty seconds or i leave without you, okay? ❞   ❝ well, well. aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? ❞   ❝ i...i didn’t mean to scare you. ❞   ❝ looks like it’s gonna be up to us again. ❞   ❝ i’m sorry. i’m having trouble understanding any of this. ❞   ❝ i believe you are our best hope. our only hope. ❞   ❝ you’re bright red in the face right now. ❞   ❝ i think it’ll be easier if we’re a team. ❞   ❝ you can’t run from me. ❞   ❝ we’re running out of time here. the world is running out of time. ❞   ❝ everyone i love, i hurt. ❞   ❝ you don’t even seem nervous. i’m impressed. ❞   ❝ what if i’m not good? what if i’m the monster? ❞   ❝ do you flee or stand your ground and fight? ❞   ❝ in dark days like this, we need something to believe in. ❞   ❝ what you’ve been through, what you’re still going through...it’s a lot for anyone. ❞   ❝ i’m not moping. ❞   ❝ there’s not that many. we can take ‘em. ❞   ❝ you remind me of someone. someone i used to know very well. ❞   ❝ we have a big fight ahead of us. ❞   ❝ so, that is it? you give up, then? ❞   ❝ did you get some rest? i have a feeling you’re gonna need it. ❞   ❝ it’s okay. you can admit it. no more lies. ❞   ❝ sounds too good to be true, yes? ❞   ❝ you’ll have to excuse the staring. you’re a bit of a celebrity. ❞   ❝ do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say? ❞   ❝ the way you looked at me. you...you were scared of me. ❞   ❝ small world, isn’t it? it’s a small world. ❞ ❝ i promise i’m gonna stop asking this, but...you’re seeing that too, right? ❞   ❝ i’ve really missed that. your laugh. ❞   ❝ i will do anything for you. ❞   ❝ you have demons in your past. ❞   ❝ you have more important things to worry about. ❞       ❝ i actually thought you’d be kinda mean and scary. ❞   ❝ i don’t want you to go. ❞   ❝ i’ve given you everything you asked for. i’ve compromised my principles. i’ve risked my life. ❞   ❝ you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you? ❞   ❝ or what? are you gonna shoot me? ❞   ❝ they’re laughing. at you. they think you’re weak. ❞   ❝ i know. you’re frightened of me. ❞ ❝ like i said...we’re alike, you and i. ❞   ❝ who knew something so small could cause so much trouble? ❞       ❝ you know, i think there’s a part of you, buried somewhere deep, that wanted me to die that day. ❞   ❝ if you want to make it out of here alive, you must do exactly as i say. ❞   ❝ i understand the stakes quite well. ❞   ❝ you can’t hurt me more than they already have. ❞   ❝ whatever comes out of there...hold your ground. ❞   ❝ you...you’re not supposed to be here. ❞   ❝ you know you can talk to me. ❞   ❝ i know what it’s like to be different. ❞   ❝ you helped me. now i help you. ❞   ❝ i don’t believe in all that supernatural crap, all right? ❞   ❝ why are you staring at me? ❞   ❝ see? there’s nothing to be afraid of. ❞ ❝ imagine what we could do together. ❞   ❝ the more you move, the more this is gonna hurt. ❞   ❝ no one ever comes out here. we’re safe. ❞   ❝ i’m going to try to forget you said any of that. ❞   ❝ my heart can’t take it anymore. ❞   ❝ for a while i tried to be happy. normal. ❞  

[blood-orange-juice]

About Childe and his weird gender again, expanding on this post.

I think it has a lot to do with how gender is constructed. Male gender has very clear-cut prescriptions, mostly it's everything that is considered "good" or "human" in current culture. The expectations it places on a person may not be realistic or achievable but they are very clear. Great importance is also placed on separating itself from Everything Female. Things That Are Too Much. Things that break the current culture meaning-making procedures.

Women, while having quite a few prescriptions of their own, also deal with whatever fell through the cracks. Someone needs to ensure the world still functions and reality is never completely covered by whatever official model of the world we currently have.

So women deal with the things men have the luxury not to notice. Mostly bodily and psychological aspects and societal injustice that are not supposed to exist in the ideal picture of society men have imagined. (to be fair, it happens to anyone oppressed and othered. the task of not letting the oppressors meet with reality is delegated to them. I'm just talking about women specifically in this post. but there's a reason oppressed minorities always have ties to supernatural in folklore)

In a way, feminine women are very scary. Walking semiotic horrors.

And I explain all this to say that Childe can be perceived as feminine in two ways.

First, with his disregard for all and any societal norms he just doesn't follow the normal gender prescriptions. He plays a superhero/knight role because it's shiny and it reminds him of the stories he loved as a kid. He doesn't suppress his love for his family because it brings him joy. He looks pretty because looks are a weapon too. He does all these things that would be either stereotypically masculine or painfully unmasculine for anyone else who cares about what society thinks, but he doesn't really see any difference between them. He truly, genuinely doesn't care what others think.

Second, he's also painfully aware of the dark and insane parts of the universe everyone else has the luxury to ignore. He also knows no one cares so he dances around the things a normal guy would never have to deal with (it's such a stereotypical female experience. sometimes I wonder if that's why women rarely like Lovecraft. it's not scary or exciting to them, it's just Tuesday).

But that's just our perception, a trick of light. These are not necessarily gendered.

He also gives an impression of someone extremely vulnerable, yes, but I don't think he handles his vulnerability in a feminine way. He just doesn't hide it and we are used to labeling everything vulnerable as feminine.

He also doesn't really do anything feminine-labeled in a characteristic female way. He isn't really in contact with his emotions (despite having a lot of them), him caring about people takes the form of "protector and provider". his cooking... have you seen his cooking? He doesn't look for support and doesn't try to build things that last. He doesn't accept his vulnerability. If anything, he's trying to pretend he has no vulnerabilities and maybe no psyche at all. He's self-sacrificing in a very male way too. Because he was there and because he could and because it's a cool thing to do.

So he's just that. Himself. Someone outside of gender.

(or rather his gender is knightcore)

If we perceive him as feminine it says more about how our culture perceives gender than about who Childe is.

Also, quoting my previous post, it's a part of him being full of contradictions. For every thing that he does he also does the exact opposite, and this holds for gender too.

Yes he lives the male power fantasy. He also does it in an incredibly feminine way. I think this was Hoyo's original intention and then it blossomed into this human disaster we see.

And to end up on a joke, surely you all have seen that leaked art that is theorised to be Skirk but could have also been an early design of Childe before Hoyo decided to make him a guy.

[apieceofmi]

STRANGERS

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Two strangers on a train.

__________________________________________________________

I hate weekends in my hometown. I hate the person that I’m there and how everybody already has an opinion formed about who I am, there's no possibility of change when I'm in that place. But it's family… And we are supposed to visit family, right?

Sometimes I think the weight in my chest when I left isn't worth it. 

I'm already on the train coming back to where I live now, but I still can't take my mind out of that place. Flashbacks of moments that I lived in the past three days keep coming for every word that I read in the book that I’m trying to finish. Everything that I can think about is: how can people that I love so much can be so mean? 

Silly girl, she doesn't do anything right.

Did she win a prize? Well, but that one doesn't matter.

She's feeling too much, seeing things where they do not exist.

Silly girl, you are never gonna be enough.

“What are you reading?” A throaty voice takes me out of my thoughts. My eyes flew to the man sitting opposite of me, something on his face tells me that the question was unexpected for him too.

“Uh?” I ask, even if I understand what he says, maybe giving him a chance to just pretend that nothing happened. But now all the unexpected things are gone in his posture, the corners of his mouth turning up.

“You already stopped three times now, so I'm guessing that it's embarrassing or really bad that you can't even continue?” he speculates. “Just got me curious about what you're reading.”

I chuckle, shaking my head.

“A romance. A good one, but…” I sighed, looking down at my e-reader. “I'm just not in the mood, I think.”

When I look back at him and our gaze connects, it's like something changes in the air. His dark brown eyes studied me and I feel my heart racing. I don't know what, but something is happening here. Some detail on his face gives me the impression that I've already known him. Dark brown hair, pale skin covered with tattoos, he's obviously beautiful, but… These eyes tickle my heart. It's almost too comfortable. It just feels… right.

Jesus Christ, am I going crazy?

I'm not the kind of person who talks with anyone, I'm the opposite of an extrovert actually, but I don't want - don't even think that I can - ignore his presence and pretend that nothing happened. So I make words come out of my mouth, transforming any chance that I see in him into a subject.

“What are you listening to?” I ask, noticing that he's wearing earbuds.

“Nothing. I put this on so people don’t talk to me.” He grins. “You should try this next time.”

My eyebrows rise and a teasing smile forms on my lips. 

“Right, so strangers on a train don't start conversations with me.”

“Yes, people are so inconvenient these days.” He mocked. “Like, it's the first time that I take this train but If I knew it was so well attended, I would take it more often. Even though I'm just passing around this area… But you don't want to know about this”

“No.” I laugh, biting my lip. “Actually, it's the first time that this train is well attended, if you randomly want to know.”

He adjusted in his seat, crossing his arms with a pleasing look on his face. 

“So, you take this very often?” His question is a snap of the fingers, reminding me of where I am and why I'm on this train one more time. My smile slowly fades. “Yes. More than I want.” 

He's quick, changing the subject and dragging me to talk about things that I normally don't talk about with strangers. The time flies and I wish I could stop the world from spinning just for a little more of this moment.

Two hours later, when we arrive, all I can think about is: how can a person that I met less than a day make me feel better than someone that I had known my entire life?

The conversation slowly fades while we arrange the baggage that we have with us so we can leave. I stand, thinking how to say goodbye. 

“Hey” he shouts and I look at him. “Can you tell me your name?”

I force a smile, feeling my whole world crashing inside when all my insecurities involve me in a tight embrace that I have no choice or escape. I like the way he looks at me and I don't want to ruin that image. Sometimes - every day - I have this feeling that I’m invisible. Everybody passes through me and doesn't notice, too ordinary to stain a life. If he gets to know me, whatever we create here, it's going to vanish. The voice is back whispering in my ear. “You have the personality of a door, nobody remembers you.”

A memory worth more than a disappointment? 

A mystery certainly does.

“You're a good trip partner, stranger” I said, then left.

Stupid girl, you should have said your name. 

Three months have passed since that day, I've already taken this train more times than I should. Every single time I remember him, hoping that the universe gives me one more chance.

I keep looking at the door, he never comes back.

__________________________________________________________

Author’s note: I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, english isn't my first language. I hope you like it. xx

Part two

[uncanny-tranny]

how do you deal with loving yourself in an age where everybody publicly hates you? i think my internalised transphobia/homophobia is actually killing me

I think first, you have to forgive yourself for not loving or even liking yourself. That may sound counterproductive, but when I actually did this, I felt so much less pressure to perform love and to pretend like I was okay.

This is a process that can take years, and honestly? I still struggle with this. It's not realistic to expect yourself to wake up and be fine. Recognize when you aren't okay, when you feel that self-loathing, and don't feel shame over it (easier said than done, yes, but it is important). What you feel is only natural. What you feel is completely understandable.

Some of the things I have done beyond what I put above are:

Finding a passion outside of anything related to my internalized transphobia/homophobia. For me, this is crafting. It separates me from the world and from myself in such a way that I feel... beyond myself, if that makes sense. It's a liminal space where nothing matters, but what is in front of me

Community. Finding your own place in this world is incredibly important, and it can be difficult. If there is an LGBT center near you, please go there, even if you leave early. Being surrounded by others who are not only similar but you can see can make a difference.

Learning. This one might not work, but I found that education helped me love this world in a way that really helped change my view. I've dabbled in science and history because they're my favourites, but I think learning the beautiful parts of this world can help to make you reflect on how you aren't seperate from this world, you are integral to it.

Make time for yourself. Whatever time you have left, dedicate it to you. What this means, only you can say. For me, I set time for myself to enjoy video games and crafting and being with my cats. This time should be true to what you want to do in order to listen to and honour yourself

In the vein of community: Surround yourself with others like you, with trans and gay and queer people - with a broad spectrum of our communities. Don't tolerate intolerance, and when you come across it, remember your worth and remember that you and your existence aren't debates. You are an actual person. You don't have to entertain the idea that you are anything less.

Remember the world can be kind. The world can (and will) show you kindness, especially where you least expect it. It may seem like the hatred you hear is loud, but louder still will be the people who will see you for you and won't turn away from you.

This isn't a cure-all. I won't peddle magic cures, and I don't want to give the impression that you are "wrong" or "bad" for how you are doing. You aren't the first person to feel this way, and you aren't the only one, either. In that sense, your pain isn't felt alone. I hope that you can feel peace and safety within yourself, if not now, then one day. You are worth that. If you aren't ready for this, please keep all this in your back pocket. It is never too late. It won't be too late.

[summermoonshine]

Call Of Duty : MWIII - TRAITOR SOAP

Okay, HEAR ME OUT (actually there's no one to hear me out so i'm basically writing this for me myself and my own poor sad soul).

So. Since the release of the trailer, the theory about a traitor Soap has spread, mainly because during the MWIII trailer they used the colour red on the new skin.

[I'll pretend to ignore that the headphones and the keffiyeh are identical to those worn by Ghost - which would open up many other unfortunate scenarios (: the killing of Ghost by Soap who kept the headphones and keffiyeh in memory), see below:

but let's go on for now...]

What if it was more than just the colour red? Le'ts recall that Soap was originally - or maybe purposely - sent by General Shepherd to team up with Ghost, and we know that General Shepherd later teamed up with Graves. So it would make sense that Soap didn't check for Graves' dead body after the explosion in the tank, right? (I mean, they acted like buddies from day 0...)

Also, what if Soap's anger upon the discovery of Graves' betrayal (with his famous line: ''Graves whaTTTCHA FFUCK'') was caused because THEIR secret deal was failing? This would justify why the Shadows took the trouble to search far and wide for Soap on the streets (maybe they were afraid he would spill the tea? huh), despite Graves and all the others being afraid of Ghost (he was, c'mon, who wouldn't be).

Speaking of him, it is interesting to underline how, throughout the duration of the campaign, not only is there a true character development (Ghost went from being a lone wolf to being part of a team; a team that he himself stated and claimed as his - which means the world for a creepy lonely ass like him) but there are also his ''advice'' to guide us through. He, in fact, warns us about betrayals, trust, how ''people you know can hurt you the most'' and that ''you want to be (a) better (man) than me, Johnny''. This makes me wonder: what if Ghost had sensed Soap's betrayal right from the start (or maybe he already knew it, and for this reason his first exclamation is ''Fucking Hell'' when he sees Soap before wheeling up)? Let's remember that OG Ghost was killed by General Shepherd because he trusted him. Now Soap would be doing his same mistakes: What if Ghost's ''advices'' were small clues to try to put Soap back on the right track? Again: what if, finally, Ghost took off his balaclava in front of Los Vaqueros (here's a little note: let's remember what happened with Alejandro's safehouse: they didn't trust Soap. The only one who had the coordinates was Ghost), the TF141 and Soap (who shows a more than satisfied grin after seeing Ghost without it) because it's his (Ghost's) way to settle the accounts and even the things out forever? Ghost already died once, is it now Simon's turn? (actually, i don't believe Ghost will be the one to die this time - i'm in my delulu cloud, let me be).

Lastly, i'd like to pinpoint a thing or two about Price (speaking of deaths...). In the MWIII trailer we see this scene (he's just sleepy yeah right true?!):

but let's focus on his hands:

Which ones are they clinging to? Soap's? No: Gaz. Maybe, MAYBE, he was close to the truth and that was a hint for our lad to beware of something (or maybe, someone...)? Also, where's Ghost? Why did they split? SoapxGhost and PricexGaz were almost standard pairs for MWII.

And that's talking about ''pairs'', that here i stand with my last point: amongst the various interactions and banters between Soap and Ghost during the Alone Mission, there's an interesting question that Soap asks before Ghost gives his impressive quotes about trust (although he tries to divert the answers as much as possible and to be as evasive as possible on his ideas regarding the others - later revealed during the missions, such as the arrival of Price and Gaz and the news that Laswell is still on their side which leads Ghost to say that she's ''still as solid as a rock'': so he KNOWS who to ''trust'', but he refused to admit it to Soap by choice). Soap, on the other hand, does not. That's why he asks: ''What about Captain Price?'' (read: can I trust him?). One of the answer is: ''I trust the Captain'', the other one: ''I don't trust anyone right now, even Price". Maybe, and just MAYBE, they were just already showing us some nuances of Soap's character but we didn't notice it? At least... not yet?

(Credits for the pics and gif to: @sleepyconfusedpotato @mctvsh Please, give me the credits if ya repost it, 🌱)