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moondirti · 5 months

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Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

#do not be a cute girl around this man he will ruin your life #unedited #sorry this took me ages to pump out #tumblr deleted the first draft (?) so i had to rewrite #hate this dumb site #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost #simon riley #x reader #x female reader #call of duty #fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

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thehmn · 6 months

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It might simply be that I don’t frequent ADHD forums enough but I haven’t seen a whole lot of talk about learned social withdrawal.

As a child I made friends left and right but as we all turned into self-conscious teenagers it slowly became more and more difficult for me. Plain and simple, other people thought I was weird. For some reason I never got bullied which I think is related to something my teachers kept telling my parents “She’s such a sweet, bright child and we can tell she’s not malicious or trying to be disruptive on purpose but we can’t teach her anything”

Basically people couldn’t figure me out. I had good social skills with both children and adults, I had a good moral compass, i felt compassion and empathy for others and was willing to go against my friends if I felt they were being bullies, I taught myself English and my drawings showed good observation skills. Because of all that it was decided I should start school a year sooner than most kids and my parents were very proud. Unfortunately that’s probably one of the main reasons why I was never diagnosed with raging ADHD as a child. People soon realized I didn’t do well in a school setting but assumed it was because I “wasn’t done playing” and my ADHD symptoms were interpreted as childishness.

So as I got older my classmates started to distance themselves from me. They were always kind and friendly but they didn’t know how to deal with me and ever since then people have always been worryingly comfortable with calling me weird to my face. I get the impression it’s because they think it’s a choice on my part. To them I’m clearly of “normal intelligence” so I must be acting like this on purpose and my parents would repeatedly tell me to “just act normal” as a child when I told them I was struggling to make friends. I tried so damn hard but kept failing. I knew something had to be different about me and when I first heard about ADHD I thought “That’s me! That’s how I feel!” but my parents said that was impossible because I wasn’t hyperactive.

Because nobody wanted to help me I eventually learned to just stop trying to make friends and keep to myself. I was so tired of being told by friendly, well-meaning people that I was so weird and quirky and unique only for them to distance themselves once they realized it was permanent and not something I could turn on and off for parties. I always enjoyed being alone so it wasn’t a huge loss but it did feel incredibly lonely at times.

Things got a lot better when I became an adult, mostly because adults are generally more chill than teens so my ADHD behavior isn’t as embarrassing to them and ironically they’re often surprised to learn I don’t make friends easily. Unfortunately I learned to be withdrawn in my formative years so new friends are still a rarity. Before I really sat down and put my past into context I even started to wonder if I had autism despite not connecting with anything autistic people said about their experiences. I went as far as to be tested but wasn’t surprised when the diagnosis was negative because of course it was, I kinda already knew that. I was just looking for an explanation.

So while there can be overlap between ADHD and autism (I have just such a friend) my experience is also that oftentimes people with ADHD simply learn to stay away from social situations and entertain ourselves which ends up looking like autism to outsiders.

#adhd #add #autism

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fans4wga · 1 year

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Writers Guild West Official: Era of Hollywood Mergers Hastened the Strike

August 10, 2023

Laura Blum-Smith, the Writers Guild of America West’s director of research and public policy, considers the strike a result of a tsunami of Hollywood mergers that has handed studios and streamers the power to its exploit workers.

“Harmful mergers and attempts to monopolize markets are a recurring theme in the history of media and entertainment, and they are a key part of what led 11,500 writers to go on strike more than 100 days ago against their employers,” Blum-Smith said on Thursday at an event with the Federal Trade Commission and Department of Justice over new merger guidelines unveiled in July.

She pointed to Disney, Amazon and Netflix as companies that “gained power through anticompetitive consolidation and vertical integration,” allowing them to impose “more and more precarious working conditions, increasingly short term employment and lower pay for writers and other workers across the industry.” But she sees revisions to the merger guidelines that address labor concerns a key part of the solution to prevent further mergers in the entertainment industry moving forward.

“The FTC and DOJ’s new draft merger guidelines are part of a deeply necessary effort to revive antitrust enforcement,” she added. “Compared with earlier guidelines, the new ones are much more skeptical of the idea that mergers are the natural way for companies to grow. And they focus more on the various ways mergers hurt competition, including how mergers impact workers.”

In July, the FTC and DOJ jointly released a new road map for regulatory review of mergers. They require companies to consider the impact of proposed transactions on labor, signaling that the agencies intend to review whether mergers could negatively impact wages and working conditions. FTC commissioner Alvaro Bedoya, who was joined by agency chair Lina Khan, said in a statement about the guidelines that “a merger that may substantially lessen competition for workers will not be immunized by a prediction that predicted savings from a merger will be passed on to consumers.” Historically, transactions have been considered mostly through the lens of benefits to consumers.

The guidelines lack the force of law but influence the way in which judges consider lawsuits to block proposed transactions. They also tell the public how competition enforcers will assess the potential for a merger’s harm to competition.

Antitrust enforcers have steadily been taking notice of negative impacts to labor as a result of industry consolidation. “We’ve heard concerns that a handful of companies may now again be controlling the bulk of the entertainment supply chain from content creation to distribution,” Khan said last year during a listening forum over revisions to the guidelines, in a nod to anticompetitive conduct by studios that led to the Paramount Decrees. “We’ve heard concerns that this type of consolidation and integration can enable firms to exert market power over creators and workers alike.”

Adam Conover, writer and WGA board member, said in that April 2022 forum that his show Adam Ruins Everything was killed by AT&T’s acquisition of Time Warner in 2018 when TruTV’s parent company forced the network to cut costs. He stressed that a handful of companies “now control the production and distribution of almost all entertainment content available to the American public,” allowing them to “more easily hold down our wages and set onerous terms for our employment.” It’s not just writers that are impacted by an overly consolidated Hollywood either, he explained. After Disney acquired 21st Century Fox in 2019, he said that the studios pushed the industry into ending backend participation and trapping actors in exclusive contracts preventing them from pursuing other work.

Blum-Smith said that aggressive competition enforcement is necessary as “Wall Street continues to push for more consolidation among our employers despite the industry’s history of mergers that failed to deliver any of the consumer benefits they’ve claimed that left writers and audiences worse off with less diversity of content and fewer choices.”

“More mergers will leave writers with even fewer places to sell their work and tell their stories and the remaining companies will have even more power to lower pay and worsen working conditions,” she warned. “Strong enforcement against mergers is essential to protect workers in media and workers across the country and these guidelines are an important step in the right direction.”

#sag-aftra strike #sag strike #actors strike #hollywood #wga strike #writers strike

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 29 days

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𝑲𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚-!! ≽^•⩊•^≼

synopsis: L&Ds men interactions when you get a cat!

tags: fluff, nothing suggestive very cute and wholesome

a/n: rare blue moon occasion where i write fluff LMAO but this was toooo cute of a request

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

Gets a little too jealous.

You’d never seen him like this, especially over a pet.

When you got pet fish he never batted an eye, even offering to feed it or get some decorations for your tank.

But with your new kitty, he thinks you spend far too much time with it.

Insisting it needs to “learn how to live” by itself, but when you tell him the same he pouts.

When you end up falling asleep on the couch, circled up with kitty on your lap, he’ll scowl; trying to slowly place himself behind you and nap alongside you, quickly getting hissed off. The cat could definitely feel Xavier’s resentment.

You walked into quite the spectacle the other day, hearing mumbling coming from your living room while you exited your bed.

As if Xavier was talking on the phone, but it was the cat…

You lurk behind the wall, seeing him seated criss cross on the floor, dancing a treat infront the cats mouth, “Alright…today you’ll leave us alone okay…and more treats…” he whispers, repeating over and over as if its interested in anything but the treats.

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

He took it like how you thought…you’d wake up too many times to see him crawling over you to the other side of the bed if your kitty slept near him.

Always wondering how you’d let such a “beast” sleep next to you while in a most vulnerable state.

When you were in be shower you thought you heard an entire crime scene go down.

But when you exited the bathroom, hair wet and soap still dripping down your legs with a towel around you…It was Rafayel calling for you.

“It’s- It’s licking me! Make it stop- You monster!!! No don’t go near the paint- Y/n-!”

He’d spend time lecturing the cat as if it could understand him, arms crossed and all…what a drama queen.

𝑺𝒚𝒍𝒖𝒔

He pampers it like it’s your child. He was “annoyed” at first, he likes cats maybe even more than the next guy but he believes they’re predators who can fend for themselves, and deserve respect for their resilience.

All that chatter yet you find your own cat with a collar that costs your entire paycheck. Matching bowls, toys, scratching posts, and even a self cleaning litter box.

You found that Sylus likes to spoil everything he likes.

When you took him to the supermarket to buy treats for the kitty, you tried to make sensible but generous choices, picking up a pretty good brand according to some internet forums.

As you held it in your hand you saw Sylus look at you with a face of disgust. He took it from you slowly, pinching it from the top like it was disease ridden, “…What kind of garbage is that….we can’t feed this them this?” He says, opting for the most expensive bag of treats you layed your eyes on. “We should just have the chefs make fresh treats next time…”

So now you and your cat are both resident sugar babies.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

Is often very fond of it, but sometimes there’s mild jealous. he’s not the jealous one, nor is the cat…

It seemed a little odd to you, how Zayne would sit on the other end of the couch and keep it company during your movie nights.

He’d feed it, pet it, bathe it even!

The cat was basically his now…

One time you called Zayne, frantic and scared thinking she ran away.

He assured you that she was actually just at the hospital with him…for some odd reason. He claimed the cat wouldn’t let him leave your home that morning without coming along.

When you tried to coerce the kitty to come back with you, you thought you’d bring her “favorite” toy.

“No- no she doesn’t like that one…”

And then- he pulled out a rattling toy from his office desk to entertain her with.

This cats got good taste in men you suppose.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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hey neil! as someone working to join the animated entertainment industry (or maybe start my own thing), ive always wondered. how much of an influence does fandom have on your work?

like good omens season 2 for example. when you were laying out the groundwork for it, did you ever just browse fandom forums or look at fanart in strike of inspiration at all? or is that considered kind of a bad practice?

I think it's wiser, safer and saner to keep my distance from all of that.

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blitzbuckzowild · 1 month

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On Stolitz, Kink and Power Dynamics, and Role Reversal - Stolas Centric

So, I have been thinking a lot about the kink dynamics between Stolas and Blitzø, especially how they are portrayed in the show vs. what is popular (or more popular than you’d think) among fan works. A lot of this has probably been said, but I am unsure what has and has not, and I have only recently begun to interact with the community.

For some background, I have about 10 years of experience within the kink/BDSM lifestyle including several long-term dynamics as both Dom and sub, attendance to events, extensive engagement in online forums, etc. I’ve been in many types of dynamics and have a good understanding of the culture.

We have very little knowledge on the intricacies of the dynamic between Stolas and Blitzø but from what I can gather its a pretty standard one without very much structure. This makes sense seeing as before recent canon events, their scenes are primarily limited to once a month. There is no evidence of switching that I can find in the show, most likely they stay firm in their roles of Blitzø as Dom and Stolas as sub. There is the comment during the Loo Loo Land episode, where Blitzø say “wait till her dad tries diddling your holes”, but the keyword being “tries.” Now obviously he could be receiving penetration, but I find it hard to believe that there is any actual control given to Stolas.

This structure obviously allows for some entertaining role reversal, and (on the surface level at least) mitigates some of the issues with the power at the same time. I find myself often wondering how people would regard the dynamic between them if Blitzø was portrayed as the sub. It obviously doesn’t really fit his character as he is now, but it is a thought.

Anyway, the point is actually to explore the idea of a role reversal between the two and what this can represent. Obviously, a lot of this has been touched on in fan-works, and probably other posts, but primarily in the framework of Blitzø’s experience subbing. I think that is well-established that a lot of the draw for Blitzø to submit is the idea of him being vulnerable and letting go of control. There are many works that focus on this.

But what about Stolas? That’s something I haven’t seen a lot of.

Stolas is passive. Even if he snarks back at Blitzø and does set some boundaries a bit at the beginning of Apology Tour, and he does tease and push, it’s really not substantial. Even with Full Moon, even with the crystal, he is still so submissive to everything that happens around him. He makes his grand gesture and throws the ball in Blitzø’s court until he can’t handle what that looks like. He let’s things just happen to him for the most part. So a lot of his character growth in the show focuses on him gaining confidence and taking initiative.

Even in Apology Tour, at the Blitzø Hate party, he makes it clear where he stands on what he wants his role in a relationship to be. He wants to be pursued, like a woman in a rom-com who stereotypically and historically takes a passive role to whatever confident or goofy hunk wants her. Sure, she wants him (usually), but typically she is not doing the pursuing. Instead she rolls her eyes and things happen to her.

Stolas taking on a dominant role, taking control, even in the context of kink, can be symbolic for him learning ambition and initiative. Everything has been decided for him and he’s letting Blitzø’s actions and responses make the decision for him. Even with Octavia, he acts as if he is collateral to her behavior and emotions. It’s fair for him to want Blitzø pursue him and to take accountability. However, at some point he needs to pursue as well. You could say that the crystal was an instance in which he did? But was it really when at the first sign of resistance from Blitzø, he folds and pull back.

All this to say, there can be some really great story telling using their BDSM dynamics. I don’t really expect the show to address this, because I think there are some intricacies here that can only be appreciated by those really involved in the BDSM lifestyle, and honestly I am not sure how knowledgeable the writers are about it outside of the mainstream knowledge (Well mainstream compared to someone like me.)

With the deal ended, and the power dynamics somewhat balancing out, the door is really opened for this type of thing. There isn’t as much baggage in Blitzø being portrayed in a sub role. The class divide is still there, but Stolas no longer holds all of the cards

There is waaaay more I can say on this in regard to the roles of sub and Dom and how they relate to Stolas and Blitzø but this is already so long. Some things to consider would be the the actual emotional needs that are filled by each role, the ways relationships in dynamics develop, different BDSM subcultures and theories on the nature of their dynamic, and more of my thoughts on how their current dynamic with Stolas subbing and Blitzø Domming impacting perceptions of their previous arrangement by viewers, how Blitzø is already submissive to Stolas in ways, the general emotional state of people when engaging in kink, etc. I could also provide my own thoughts on Blitzø subbing but I feel it’s already well addressed in the fandom.

Maybe I’ll do a part 2 if it’s wanted or I get the will. I would love to engage in any discussion (agreeing or otherwise) on this, I probably missed some things, or interpreted stuff differently than others.

And here is a Poll to wrap this up

#helluva boss #blitzø #blitzo #helluva fandom #stolas #stolitz #helluvalevi #helluva theory

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therhythmafterthesummer · 4 months

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Hi. Long time reader. Big fan! Hi!

I have a question. Would you ever consider doing a "7 days" drabble or something? I've always wondered how Mr and almost not quite Mrs Pack Leader both handled the 7 days from when Pretty found out about the awoo awoo, to when she returned home with more knowledge and acceptance?

Can I have your autograph? Big fan! Much respect! Wow!

you sent this ask on may 2023. it's been over a year. OVER A YEAR... i told you i'd consider it and i did ☝☝☝

it's probably not exactly the same as what you'd imagined and it's also been the first thing i wrote in a long while, but i hope it's entertaining and that you like it and that it doesn't suck~

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. reading Alpha Dog before this one is highly recommended as it’s something that happens within that story). | Word Count: ~1.8k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · roomies idiots to ??? · there's like a smidge of angst but probably not enough for it to be taken into consideration · pre-relationship situations · this was barely proof-read oops

minors do not interact.

‘I’m a werewolf… We’re all werewolves’

‘We’re all werewolves…’

Werewolves.

Everything you thought you knew about the world around you was completely obliterated a week ago. It wasn’t every day that one learnt that supernatural creatures lived among humans, so it was–quite understandably, in your opinion–an absolute shock when your roommate revealed to you that he and the rest of his friends were, in fact, werewolves.

Werewolves. As in, a half man, half wolf creature… You’d been unknowingly living among werewolves for four whole months and you’d convinced yourself that they wouldn’t have told you if you hadn’t literally seen one of them shift from his wolf form into his human one with your own two eyes.

You’d been trying to process this knowledge for a whole week. The first couple of days, you told yourself you had just imagined the whole thing, up to the conversation you had with your roommate right after the fact…

But then, the text messages started coming in.

> Yang Jeongin (neighbour): im sorry > i know i probably spooked you when i shifted > i couldnt control it honestly > i was too shocked > i shouldve done better > sorry

> Lee Minho (neighbour): hiya > just wanted to check in on you… > hope you’re well

> Bang Chris (roomie): hey… how’re you

You weren’t imagining those. They were very real. They stared at you from within your phone’s screen whenever you opened your messaging app, reminding you that the whole thing had actually happened.

When you started digesting the situation and accepted it had happened, you felt angry.

They lied to you. Every single one of them had lied to you. They lied by omission, at least… It wasn’t like they ever said they were human, but you’d never really considered the fact that people needed to specify something like that.

You’d found yourself laying on your childhood bed, fuming at the thought of these people possibly laughing at your expense, maybe toying with you like you were somehow less than them. Like you were prey.

But after the initial fire of anger subsided, you just grew… confused.

Going online to research something could either go really well or really bad. The higher the number of the page in your search engine became, the more you started to wonder if these dark corners of the internet held any truth about the topic at all.

A website with ten year old graphics drawn in 8-bits exposed how werewolves lived among humans. It went in detail on their super-strength, their enhanced senses, and their innate desire to live in communes. All of which just sounded like someone was detailing lore for their next fantasy story.

There was no way for you to fact-check any of the articles and forums you found, no way of knowing what was real and what was simply made up by someone’s hyperactive imagination.

So it was towards day four of being away from your usual residence that you remembered a key detail.

There was a person that was close with your neighbours, the childhood friend of one of them who you could now vividly recall telling you how ‘Being human kinda sucks sometimes. We can’t do shit’.

At the time, you thought she was just hyperbolising. There was no way you would’ve thought she was actually confirming to you that she was human and that she somehow knew of beings with greater abilities than her own. There was no way she didn’t know.

So you went to your recent chats and clicked on the one with the phone number that was still saved with the same name it had when your neighbour Minho had shared it with you. You really needed to update it, but that was seemingly insignificant at this time. With trembling fingers, you sent a message.

< You: you knew didn’t you?

It didn’t take long for the reply to come, signalled by the gentle vibration of your phone, bringing with it a knot that made its home in your throat.

> kittenkittykat🐱: Hi, how are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking LOL. > I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that, babes.

< You: about the guys and their… condition

You saw the ‘typing…’ message appear and disappear for a long minute, until the person on the other side finally replied.

> kittenkittykat🐱: What condition?

It annoyed you, you’d admit. She was acting aloof, there was no way she wasn’t. So you ignored the heavy feeling in your chest and decided to get to the point.

< You: the… furry one < c’mon, don’t act like you don’t know < there’s no way minho didn’t tell you about what happened the other day < hell, there’s no way you don’t know what the boys are < you’ve known minho for years

> kittenkittykat🐱: He did tell me. > I just wanted you to tell me you knew yourself. > And yes. I’ve always known. > I’ve known Minho since before he contracted lycanthropy.

< You: contracted? < are you saying he wasn’t always like this?

> kittenkittykat🐱: …Yes > You’re either born a werewolf or turned into one. > To be honest, I don’t think I’m comfortable disclosing Minho’s past in much detail without asking him first. > In any case, please don’t be mad at them. > Or me, for that matter… > It’s not just something you go around telling people that have no connection with the supernatural, you know?

You knew she was right. Deep within you, you knew. You kinda… understood.

Before you could reply to that last message, she sent more.

> kittenkittykat🐱: Know that any questions you’ve got, you can ask me. > After so many years I think I might know a thing or two about the furry men… > And women. And, uh… people. > Furry people. Yes. > Anyway, I know of some resources online, too…

And resources online she shared…

Some of the dodgy websites you’d found hadn’t been too far off. Apparently werewolves did live in communes, more accurately referred to as packs, which aligned perfectly with the whole living situation your roommate and your neighbours had. When you moved in with Chris, you were surprised to see how close he was with his friends, you brushed it off as their apparent lack of toxic masculinity, but now you knew.

Now you knew…

But did you, really?

You figured the only way to get proper answers was to actually speak to them–to him, more specifically. After all, you lived with Chris. In the same flat. You were missing it terribly, your flat… and maybe you were even missing Chris.

But you weren’t ready to face him.

What would you tell him? How could you even approach the situation?

Especially considering… Well, the very inconvenient crush you’d developed on your roommate… Your roommate that you now knew was a werewolf.

You hadn’t really entertained the thought of doing anything about said crush… You were convinced that it’d probably just complicate things, but all it took was a charming smile and the sight of dimples to make you want to risk it all.

It was a reaction that you now questioned.

He wasn’t human. On the off chance that you did risk it all, would you even want to be with someone like him? Or, more importantly, could his supernatural condition be somehow influencing you into believing you liked him? Was he literally charming you?

You figured you needed to know…

One of the forums your neighbour’s friend shared with you had this whole section dedicated to romancing a werewolf, explaining how their designation affected the whole process most of the time. This led you to another section where you learnt about those designations, about what an alpha, a beta, and an omega were.

Alphas were usually the leaders of a pack, according to this site. Very protective, territorial, particularly stubborn… It definitely sounded like Chris to you. His friends looked up to him, and it took only one word said in a serious tone for them to do anything he asked them to do.

This knowledge led you to many threads. ‘How to deal with a violent alpha?’ ‘Our alpha is forcing us to do things for her, how can we stop her?’ ‘Tips to take an alpha [in a fight] pt3’ ‘Tips to take an alpha [in every hole possible] pt5’

Some conversations were a bit too explicit for you to comfortably read them. Not because you were a prude, by any means, but because anything too explicit would make you think about your roommate a bit too much… You weren’t in the most appropriate mood to think about ‘An alpha’s preference in bed’ or ‘How to stretch for an alpha’s knot’ –whatever that was.

You were more in the mood to dig into all these threads related to violent, overly possessive and controlling alphas. You felt like you needed to know about this supposed inherent nature of your roommate’s.

These people didn’t particularly sound like Chris. Yeah, he wasn’t perfect, and anyone could tell he wanted to be the one in charge at all times, but he’d never given you the feeling that he was forcing anyone around him to do anything at all.

Admittedly, you might’ve gotten a bit too invested in the topic. It started to worry you when all you could read was these horrible experiences people had with alphas–both in platonic and romantic settings. But eventually, you started seeing the opposite side.

‘Our pack’s alpha is honestly great. They always make sure we’re okay with any decisions taken…’ ‘As an alpha, I can tell you that any alpha that tries to force you into anything is just toxic and abusive. We aren’t all like that…’ ‘I feel very cared for when I’m with my alpha…’

Those testimonials gave you a bit more hope. They reminded you that in this short time you’d spent living with Chris, he’d done nothing but made you feel comfortable. He was that type of person, it didn’t matter if he was a werewolf.

Crush aside, you liked Chris. He was a guy you felt you could trust; yes, he’d lied by omission, but if you thought about it with a clear mind, it was pretty obvious that he wouldn’t just outright tell you he wasn’t entirely human. He seemed genuine, but you needed to hear his side of the story with your own two ears, without the panic of suddenly seeing your younger neighbour’s body twist and turn in ways you never knew were possible.

So with that in mind, on day seven of you being away from the place you considered your home, and after reading many articles and comments from people online, you left the comfort of your childhood bed, gathered your belongings, and left your mother’s house.

You were determined to get answers. You needed the truth, directly from the wolf’s mouth. If knowing Chris was a werewolf meant he’d kick you out, then you wanted him to tell you. If knowing he was a werewolf meant you’d be able to perceive malice in Chris, you wanted to see it.

In all honesty, if Chris was as genuine as he seemed and if he wanted you around, you genuinely wanted to stay, lycanthropy and all.

General Masterlist | WereRoomies Masterlist

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏#notastraykid #ask #you already have my autograph LOL

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