#so have this random word-vomit essay i made for now :>>> | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dearhargrove · 2 years ago

Note

Hii can you do Ethan x Reader where reader grew up with Ethan and his family so she was always close with him and Quinn and they go to the same college and are in Tara’s group but when they go to the party reader gets really drunk and Ethan takes care of her and the next morning reader thanks Ethan and they end up confessing 🫶🫶 (can have slight smut at the end if you want)

Let me care for you

Ethan Landry x fem!reader (but isn't specified I think)

summary You're drunk - your eyes unfocused and mind working at 0.5 speed. But one thing you knew for certain was that Ethan Landry was half-carrying you to your dorm and taking care of you.

word count 1426

warnings swearing, alcohol

a/n this was so cute! I wrote this dead tired and google docs wouldn't spell check, so if there's any errors tell me pls <3 otherwise enjoy! Oh, also: I know I made Ethan a lil more confident than he probably is canonically BUT him and reader have known each other for so long he's just comfortable around her and doesn't second-guess himself! Hope y'all don't mind and I also don't think it's that apparent, anyway

masterlist

navigation

You were drunk. Wasted, even. There were other students surrounding you, dancing and drinking, some you even knew from a random class or seeing them around campus. Well, right now? You weren't seeing anyone - at least not clearly. Your vision was fuzzy from the shots you'd drank pretty much the second you had gotten here with Tara and the rest of the group.

The party was fun and the music was good, the alcohol even better. So far you hadn't thought about your unfinished assignments and essays, you'd left all the stress in your dorm after pregaming with Quinn (and Ethan warily watching).

You were stumbling through the living room and kitchen, trying to decide whether to find another drink or just dance for now. However that decision was made for you when you arrived in the kitchen to see the few people there browse through bottles - all empty.

“Wait, they're out?” You drunkenly slur, glancing at the boy that was standing at the kitchen island next to you. You just barely hear his laugh, “Yeah.”

That's where the conversation had ended in your book, but he turns around and faces you, a grin on his face. “I haven't seen you around here?” You stop in your movements and look at him in your peripheral vision, hoping he'd take the hint and notice your definite disinterest.

He didn't.

“You don't wanna talk to me, princess?” He teases, though even in your drunken state you hear the slight aggravation in his voice. “No, sorry,” you dismiss and turn to leave the kitchen. He yells an insult after you and in turn you hold up your middle finger without looking back. Great, now your good mood is ruined.

Pursing your lips you look around the full hallway and living room, trying to spot at least one or your friends. How did they manage to turn invisible? You frown and stumble along a wall, your hand on it supporting you as you pass by a random couple making out (you don't know if the bile in your throat is from the copious amounts of alcohol you'd drank or these two but you're pretty sure it's the latter).

You don't know if you're imagining it or not but you can hear your name being called in a familiar fashion. You squint your eyes in suspicion and do a quick twirl, surveying the people. You regret that immediately, remembering why exactly you never moved that hastily while intoxicated. “Oh, God…” you lean over and heave, silently begging to whoever would hear you to let you get to a bathroom before vomiting on the floor of this frat house.

You feel a hand appear on your back, casually stroking along it in hopes to calm you down. Your brows crease and you're about to lash out at whoever thought they had the right to be touching you when you see the familiar pair of shoes and recognize the voice.

Ethan!

You look to the side and upwards, seeing the curly hair covered with the dorky cardboard knight helmet from his last minute costume (that you had helped him with!). He has a worried frown on his face and is talking but you don't hear him, focused on his unhappy expression. Who made him upset? Who did you have to have a word with?

You swallow and stabilize yourself on the wall again before straightening up, him copying your movement with his hand now on your shoulder.

With determination to make him happy again you reach out and press your thumb on the frown, trying to smooth it out. “Why is it not- Ethan. No frowning.” You warn when your thumb doesn't do the job.

There's a flicker of surprise on his face and then he laughs, “How much did you have to drink tonight?” It makes you giggle and you shake your head with a finger on your mouth, “It's a secret.”

He raises his eyebrows and then his hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright. I won't tell anyone. If I hadn't seen you dry heave I wouldn't have had a clue you had something to drink.”

You squint your eyes again but decide to believe him. Then the music you'd ignored faded back in and you groan, really not a fan of the way you could feel the vibration of the bass in your gut (you were a hair's width away from puking, this was not making it any better).

“Hey lovie, let's get you home?” Ethan suggests and puts an arm loosely around your waist. He never held you tightly, always loose enough that you could just slip out of his hold if you wanted to.

You see this as an offer and lean your full body weight against him, mumbling about going home and being happy to see him after wandering around this house, unable to find anyone.

He catches and holds you up with ease, gently guiding you to what you guessed was the front door (could've been a window and you wouldn't have batted an eye) before leading you outside.

Cold, crisp air surrounds you and suddenly you can breathe again, the music only in the background.

“Fresh air is great, isn't it?” He asks with amusement and you manage a glare that makes him grin.

“Alright, I'll help you walk home.”

Now, almost an hour later, you're back in your dorm. The small, dimmed lights around the room are turned on and Ethan is busying himself, cleaning (you guessed, he was mainly moving stuff around and then putting it back).

You simply sit on your bed, hands under your thighs and feet swinging as you watch him, only looking away when his quick movements overwhelm your drunk brain.

“Alright, come here. You can't sleep in that,” he finally says, holding a shirt (your favorite!) and sleep shorts in his hands. Instead of complying you cross your arms and eye him up and down, “and why can I not sleep in this?” Your party outfit is… well, a party outfit. Apart from the overall vibe and fit there was definitely some liquor that had burned its way into the fabric.

“Because it smells like tequila and you'll hate me tomorrow if I let you lay in bed with it,” he calmly explains and nonchalantly kneels in front of you to help you take off your shoes.

Your eyes are droopy and teary as well as a dull pulsing at the back of your head. You're almost asleep by now, having been convinced to change and get ready for bed (Ethan had gently but clumsily cleaned off your make up with some wipes and then you'd tiredly brushed your teeth and changed).

But, even now with you already in bed, he was still here, back against Quinn's bed and sitting on the floor.

Cuddled under your blanket you blink tiredly at him, “Eth?” He looks up from his phone and looks at you attentively. You just take him and his cute costume in for a second before a warm smile appears on your face. “Thanks. You don't have to do this but you do anyway…”

You seem to surprise him with that and he puts his phone down, “Nothing to thank me for.” You smile warmly, no strength to phrase how thankful you actually felt.

“I'm glad it's you. Taking care of me.” You admit, the haze of drunkenness fading with the time and water you've chugged. “I'm glad too.”

You're staring into his brown eyes, the light of your desk lamp illuminating them beautifully as he smiles at you, this time a bit more shy.

“Eth?” You mumble and you two just look at each other before he gets up and you lift the blanket. He lays down with his back facing the door and yours facing the wall, a palm coming to rest on your cheek.

“I'm happy you're my best friend.” He says, but there's a slight hesitancy as he says the last thing.

Maybe it was the buzz from the drinks or just the vibe of right now but you lean in and press your mouth to his. You're both too out of it and tired to do more than this, smiles in between short pecks.

It was sweet, no words needed to be exchanged between you to know what this meant.

You would talk about it in the morning with both your heads clear, but for now all you needed was to be cuddled against his chest, his hand lazily stroking along your back.

#jack champion #ethan landry #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan kirsch #scream iv #scream #scream 6 #ghostface x reader #ghostface

142 notes · View notes

dgcatanisiri · 2 years ago

Text

Y'know, I do get worried sometimes about the way that even in leftist anti-terf spaces, there's often an... I'm gonna call it a reflexive worst case response to still assume the worst of men, like there's this inherent attitude of assuming that anything they do that is deemed wrong is also done with intention to cause discomfort.

It's even in the way of "hey guys, don't do this," when there's like DMs of what are probably parasocial relationships making an impression of assuming a closer friendship than there actually is. Y'know, there've often been cases of women who get these kinds of DMs and then post pictures of it (hopefully blacking out the names) on social media as an example of what not to do.

Cuz like... doing that tends to prompt the social media mob to start investigating and try to figure out who did the creepy thing - the story gets taken out of the posters hands and made into the absolute worst possible thing, when the worst "crime" was assuming that someone was closer than the other person thought they were.

To be clear, I do understand why there's a jump to this on the part of women in general, I'm not saying that it's a response that comes from nowhere.

But at the same time, there's also still what sometimes comes across as an undercurrent of always assuming the worst of the men involved in these situations, which... feels like it might come from terf talk of assuming all men are inherently dangerous and not to be trusted because of the fact that they are men.

I mean, I'm basically word-vomiting this out right now because I read some stories that involved various drama on this, and just thought about how I respond in a lot of scenarios. Like... I've outright worried in the past if me responding to like various YouTubers on Twitter is overstepping my bounds, when honestly, I'm saying this about a YouTuber who probably has had their notifications set to only show them responses from mutuals anyway. I've even held back from making comments BECAUSE I worry about coming across as overstepping those bounds.

So like... I could easily see myself doing this with people. I mean, I've had a few occasions where I've said something on Twitter that got a like from actual celebrities, but like... That may be a thing that makes my day, but they probably would never recognize me by my screen name if I were to like speak with them at a con or something.

Also, probably there's some commentary to be had about how we turn random voices on the internet into micro-celebrities, simply because they sit in front of a camera for a few hours at a time and rant about their views on X, Y, and Z, and how damaging that can be for both the person in front of the camera and the audience - I have like a less than nothing of a platform here on Tumblr, but if I went and made like YouTube videos that were basically me reading my venting and rants as a script, slapped some footage on top of that audio... I could probably end up being able to give myself a trajectory into the Video Essay Community™ because of it. And then I'd have to become MUCH more concerned about the inevitable Discourse™ that comes from it - even to the point of potentially being doxxed and having to move, just because someone disagrees with my opinions and thinks that I deserve to pay for not agreeing about the portrayal of video game characters or something.

Like the most drama I've ever been a personal party to was that weirdness a couple of years back of someone accusing me of wishing violence upon ACTUAL women because of my lack of sympathy for a FICTIONAL race of female-only aliens, due to their portrayal and actions during the FICTIONAL existential war, and then listing off a series of either wild misinterpretations or outright lies to try and make that out as a pattern of behavior. Beyond that, I've had a couple of instances of people taking my saying X means that I don't give a shit about Y...

But amplify that the way that inevitably comes when you end up with a platform of thousands, of hundreds of thousands, all taking the worst possible interpretation of your words and then amplifying that so that people who've never heard of you now hear those interpretations...

And when I think about it, yes, honestly, I do kinda fear what would happen from that because of my being male - obviously, again, I don't want to frame myself as being more vulnerable than women to doxxing and all that associated concerns, but... I feel somewhat like my vulnerability would be played down by others because of my gender, because of my sexuality, that I would be seen as being less "at risk" just because I'm male, even though I'd theoretically be just as much at risk as anyone else - hell, I'd inevitably be speaking leftist rhetoric while living in a red state, which... I mean, I see plenty of signs of support for the guy who just got his mugshot taken on a daily basis, so it'd be dangerous for me all the same.

That's what I'm getting at in saying that sometimes you see this downplaying of and dismissal of men, the kind that comes from terf rhetoric dismissing what men go through because it's not as persistent and socially pervasive as what men go through.

But it seems sometimes like what women get as waves of harassment, men can end up getting in a series of piling microaggressions that everyone - not just those hurling them at them, but even by the men in question - downplay.

I mean, it's not like I don't know about the way that MRAs have ruined the whole concept of "men's rights" and that sort of thing, but... I DO genuinely think there needs to be more discussion of the way that patriarchy broadly hurts men AND how sometimes attempts to undo the damage it's inflicted towards women can be overcorrected for to continue inflicting damage on men.

Again, this is a lot of word-vomit on my part, so this may well not necessarily read right, but... I mean, that's kinda going back to the "worst case interpretation" thing, isn't it, that I'm trying to process this as best I'm able, but maybe not able to put it into the best words, so some random person can come along and decide I'm saying that men are the real victims or something like that...

#dg rants

2 notes · View notes

vivisextion · 4 years ago

Text

I first saw Slipknot at age 14.

No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.

But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.

My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.

August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.

I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)

While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.

(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)

It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.

This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.

When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.

I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.

(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)

We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.

The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.

The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.

Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)

They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.

Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.

Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.

Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.

Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear”. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.

You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.

This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!

On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.

After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.

The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"

My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.

After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?

There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.

I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.

And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.

Vinnie

P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!

#Joey Jordison #Slipknot #Murderdolls

55 notes · View notes

collisiondiscourse · 4 years ago

Text

on the wonder duo (part 1)

(BNHA Analysis Post Ahead! This isn’t explicitly romantic, but it is an analysis of the relationship between the two most popular characters in BNHA--Katsuki Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya. Split into two posts because I realized that this was gonna be long as HELL)

yall ever think about the fact that the wonder duo is perfectly set up in so that bakugou and deku together are the better version of all might?

bc like. ive been thinking.

everyone knows the win to save and save to win parallel. How they are supposedly two halves of a whole perfect hero (which, previously, was defined as all might)

but ever since bakugou and deku started working as one—growing together to win AND save and continuously reminding each other that they shouldnt try to do things alone, ive realized that its BECAUSE theres two of them that they surpass all might. its not a case of deku and bakugou both being 50% of an ideal hero, but rather i think that they are 100% of what all might SHOULD HAVE BEEN from the very beginning.

as early as the AM v AFO battle in kamino, we see the effects of all mights flawed existence. the fact that he, the greatest and supposedly infallible symbol of peace, was destroyed—society had begun to collapse. there was suddenly no pillar to hold people together and the impacts were so severe that even in the latest chapters of mha it keeps on getting worse. the truth is, all mights biggest mistake was the burden he placed on his own shoulders

with bakugou and deku... its different.

its different for them because down to their attributions, they seem like two halves of a whole person.

i think that the wonder duo are going to surpass all might because of the fact that they work together.

@bakugoukatsuki-rising @svpercraigus @tybee @isaustraliaathing

(batshit crazy and conspiratorial essay under the cut !)

1. Complementary Colors

I’d like to first preface literally everything I say by the fact that I am not an expert analyzer or literary major in any way. I am literally just some random fan on the internet who has wayyy too much time and looks wayyy too deep into things, but here we go!

A common thing we see when we talk about bakugou and deku is the way they are... sort of an inverse of one another.

Down to the design of their features and the way they move, Deku is the obviously softer of the two. There’s an intentional contrast between the two of them, in the way that Deku’s drawn with round shapes and curvy hair and the way Bakugou is literally all spikes and half-mast eyes and rough muscles. Bakugou’s movements too are languid and showy, with the way he leans when he walks and splays his legs and kicks open doors. Katsuki, in a casual sense, is loud and dramatic.

Deku on the other hand s finicky. He jitters when he walks and he’s often fidgeting and mumbling. Comparatively, the aura he radiates is energetic and frenzied, even self-conscious to a point unlike Bakugou’s calm and confident movements.

the point is, there’s a clear difference in how either of them are designed and what exactly they are supposed to represent. They utterly complement each other down to the way they behave and even their main colors (red-orange and blue-green) being literal complementary colors.

Now, moving to my more ungrounded points, this is quite a bit of a stretch so I’ll try as much as possible to make sense of these with hyperlinked sources because. yeah.

Down to their names, I think Deku and Bakugou both symbolize something deeper. I think that the way Hori expresses characters and what they’re meant to do is something that we have to pay close attention to when we talk about the Wonder Duo’s rise to success.

Izuku Midoriya (緑谷出久), as some of us may know, does have an interesting meaning when broken up. According to a lovely fan translation of his name, ‘Izuku’--while not an actual name used commonly in real life--means to ‘Come out’ or ‘Long time’. ‘Midoriya’ on the other hand means (Midori) ‘Green’ and (ya) ‘valley’. The translator further pointed out that his first name ‘Izuku’ could be a reference to him being the first legendary hero to come out of the long-running All Might Era. (or, if you’ve been reading @/bakugoukatsuki-rising’s posts, the first significant anime protag in a long while to come out as queer, ppfft)

but that isn’t my focus right now.

We know that Hori LOVES telling stories with names, and more often than not in the BNHA universe, names alone tell us a lot of things about the characters. When referring to Izuku’s last name, Midoriya, it’s important I think to step back and realize that hey, maybe there’s something more to Green Valley than just the fact that his motif is all green.

After searching for a lil on the specifics of green valley, I’ve found out that across many cultures, the colour green and valleys in general tend to represent life. From dream analysts, to Christianity, and even old Taoist teachings, valleys are seen as areas of fertility and escape. They are seen as safe havens and often escapes for people to come to after running away from bad circumstances.

(Sound familiar?)

Deku, in essence represents life and peace. He represents being the “salvation” that the world in BNHA needed. To me, it sounds like Horikoshi is trying to say that he is the long-awaited hero in the sense. The one that people can feel will create a society that feels safe for everyone after years of All Might just saving people from themselves as a band-aid solution.

On the other hand, we have Katsuki Bakugou (爆豪勝己), who’s name we commonly know means (Katsuki) Winner and (Bakugou) Explosion Master. He is essentially, the champion. The power. His name means success and power and all the things that make up winning.

When putting them side by side, it then becomes increasingly... interesting to me how their names almost perfectly slot into All Might’s save to win and win to save mantra, and how they are both quintessential parts to what made All Might as a hero.

2. Hero Too!

Now, I’m not even gonna really TOUCH much of what happens in canon. If you want me to do a step by step breakdown of their arcs in regards to the plot of manga and anime, feel free to send me a gratuitous ko-fi tip so I can pay for the headache I get after trying to organize my thoughts into word vomit.

What I WILL talk about on the other hand, is the subtle shift both of them slowly have in regards to how they look. Bakugou and Deku, while growing up, seem to have MANY many parallels--but before I elaborate on all of that, I wanna talk about something else.

Detour: Deku’s Red Shoes

We all know the iconic symbol being Deku’s red shoes. For all his life, save for some outfits like his hero one, we see Deku more often than not wearing his signature red sneakers which have become a running joke in fandom.

But the funny thing is, in Japan, red shoes seem to have an interesting connotation.

In 1922, a popular Japanese nursery rhyme was written, called “Red Shoes”. The interesting part to me about this song was the symbolism that, in my tiny pea-sized brain, I could connect to the story of BNHA.

The story goes that there was a little girl with red shoes named ‘Kimi’. She was from Shizuoka prefecture (which, if you didn’t know, is most likely where Musutafu supposedly is) and was raised by a single mother. When she was young, her mother had to entrust her with a foreigner under the impression that they would give her a better life in America. The stranger is a man named Charles Hewitt (who was described to have blue eyes) and supposedly took her away.

The singer of the song (supposedly the mother, but some argue it was written from the perspective of a childhood friend) believes that Kimi is happy and living a better life away from them, when the reality of the situation was much worse. The young girl with red shoes in actuality had Tuberculosis, and thus the foreigner whom she was entrusted to had left her to fend for herself and eventually left her to go to America while she died alone and orphaned.

“When I see red shoes, I think of her.”

A very interesting story with very interesting implications indeed.

Anyway, moving on to the more... “nuanced” and connected parts of this section, I have every reason to believe that Bakugou and Deku were simply MEANT to be working together down to how they dress. Now, I’d like to discuss their hero costumes.

At the start of their series, using these godawful pics for reference, it’s clear to see that neither of them seem alike in any way--reflecting the dissonance in their relationship at that point in canon.

ough. deku why. (yes we know why its because you love your mom you stupid little bunny <3)

Anyway, we see an immediate gap in how the two of them are. Deku’s first costume is one that reflects how he treated his dream of being a hero. He was still in that childlike idolization phase, the one where his dreams and aspirations were hinged on pure feelings and inspiration from All Might. Katsuki on the other hand was a lot more tactical--professional to an extent. The gap between their respective development with their quirks is something that is clearly felt in every fashion decision they’d made.

(Notice how Deku’s green is a lot brighter and less like the green accents Katsuki has all over his costume.)

As time progressed however... their costumes changed. The colors, the silhouettes, the practical functions, most things.

(Deku’s Gamma Costume and Bakugou’s Winter Costume used respectively)

we begin to notice a few similarities.

As the show goes on and we see more evolutions of their costumes, it almost seems like they begin to look like a matching pair. Deku’s green grows darker and almost teal in nature, while Bakugou’s orange is veering towards red territory. This is important to note because red-orange and blue-green as I said earlier were complementary colors as compared to simply orange and green. The minute shift is something I really wasn’t quite sure was intentional, but something I find interesting to pick up nonetheless as the colors they used to accent their costumes begin to match up.

Secondly, I think and important thing to note is silhouettes. The way that both Bakugou and Deku’s costumes are designed follow a lot of parallels that typically we don’t see with the rest of 1-A. For one, they both have a combination of tight long-sleeved tops with a bulkier set of bottoms. They also share the use of utility belts and metal pieces typically worn around their necks. Deku has his bunny-eared hood that mimics All Might’s hair, while Bakugou has his orange and black explosion ear-pieces that mimic his own quirk.

i don’t think any other people in class 1-A match each other as subtly yet strongly as these two. Uraraka and Deku and Bakugou and Kirishima do come close however.

“But Codi, you fucking knob!” I hear you plea. “This is such a reach and tells us practically NOTHING!” And yes, I’m inclined to agree with you! You’d be sort of right in the idea that this is a reach. Maybe I am looking too much into this, and maybe it really isn’t that deep--but I do think that them subconsciously matching outfits means something quite brilliant.

In the way that their costumes are designed, each aspect of either outfits have a very logical explanation. The changes were strategic and made with their fighting styles vividly in mind, so what that tells me is that BECAUSE these costumes are so complementary or similar in nature (Bakugou’s reinforcing his arms while Deku reinforces his legs), these two are implicitly showing the audience that their combat styles are complementary as well.

The evolution of their design choices and similarities tell us that even unknowingly, their minds line up in strategy on the battlefield--a clear exhibit for why they would be INCREDIBLY POWERFUL as a Hero Duo to begin with.

When I look at their hero costumes side by side, I see a mirror. I see the way that these two are reflections of each other and are strong where the other isn’t. The point I see in BNHA repeatedly is that EVERYONE HAS A WEAKNESS. Nothing is infallible, regardless of how hard you train or how powerful your quirk is. Everyone will always have a weakness, but the significant difference I see when fandom discusses the future of Pro-Hero Society is that the new generation is finally raising itself to be RELIANT on each other.

Observing their fighting styles and the simple use of their quirks, its obvious that they are indeed two parts of a whole hero. Bakugou, who’s quirk emphasized his arms and hands and the power that comes from it, while Deku who’s quirk now emphasizes his legs and lower body and the way he’s always running to save people.

IN CONCLUSION:

As they become heroes, it is easy to assume that if nothing else, Bakugou and Deku will cover each other’s weak spots (especially when you consider the way Deku probably won’t be able to keep using his arms with the way both the anime and manga are going...) (also chapter 285, anyone?)

Part Two: Interactions, OfA

kofi || commission details

159 notes · View notes

volturi-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

Blood Moon

Demetri Volturi x fem!swan!reader

Warning: Angst?

A/N: WELCOME!!! My new series!! This takes place in the beginning of eclipse! This is very different then what I usually write!lemme know if ya wanna be on the taglist!♡

Y/N Swan, never felt like she had a true place in this world. Her family always ignored her, Bella mistreated her, and Charlie was always busy with trying to get Bella to feel loved, and feel wanted, he neglected you. You got the fact she was separated from her family, but you were too. You lived with Charlie, while Renè got Bella. That was the agreement, and you were fine with that. Everything was fine, up until Bella met Edward. Then the whole, Italy thing happened. You and Charlie were going ballistic waiting for her to call. But needless to say, you were furious at Edward.

You spent your nights alone in your room, binge watching teen wolf, or listening to music. You had no friends, but you really didn't care either. You preferred staying in.

It was a very quiet afternoon, a little too quiet. Charlie had gone off to work until nine twenty-four pm. You had time to kill, until he got off, like you always did. You decided to do your homework on your computer, you had a twenty five paged essay due tomorrow for English class, and Mr. Gibson, was a very strict teacher.

You changed into a hoodie and some black ripped leggings, topped with a orange beanie. Basically your everyday attire.

You sat in front of the computer and began your essay, when Bella basically busted in your door screaming like a lunatic.

"Y/N! You said what to Edward?!" She screamed in a high pitched annoying voice.

You simply told him to 'go find a nice ripe hole, crawl in it and die, like the worthless monster he is' for the way he treated Bells.

"Snitch told? Wow, okay." You said rolling your eyes. "I apologized, I didn't mean it to go that far, I was angry. You know I'm a pacifist, you know I don't mean harm." You calmly said typing up your English assignment. Even though it was hard to focus with her yelling.

"You had no right, Y/N! You ruined everything he thinks he isn't good enough for me even more now!" She yelled in frustration.

"As he should. He isn't good enough for you, I speak the truth, point blank periodt." You said continuing to type your paper.

"Yeah, you speak the truth, that's why you're gonna be alone forever, like you are now." Bella said spitefully, and then soon regretted it.

You looked at her with tears in your eyes, it had felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. You knew your sister didn't really like you, but you never thought she'd say that. That was your biggest fear, and she knew it.

You got up closing your computer and pushing past her, grabbing your boots, and ran right out the front door.

"Y/N! I'm sorry! Don't leave, dad will be home soon!" Bella begged as she followed you outside. "It's dark!" She screamed.

"As if you care!" You yelled back.

You took off running down the street as fast as you possibly could, before she could see you cry. It was slightly raining making the weather more colder than it actually was. You had no clue where to go, as you had no where to go.

You hid in a dusty ally filled with crates behind your favorite coffee shop. You usually came here when you needed to get away. She was right, you were a nobody. You slid your back down the brick wall plopping on the wet ground covered in leaf's and twigs. That's when you broke down in tears sobbing.

That's also when you heard it, twigs snapping. You flung your head around to see a guy who looked as if he was a vampire as well, he looked nothing like the Cullens, he was tall, pale, and very nasty looking with dark red eyes. He had stubble on his face, as well as a nasty grin.

You moved and tried running away, but he had other plans, in a swift quick movement, he threw you to the other end of the ally, your back hitting the brick quite hard, a loud scream escaped your lips as you fell to the ground with a thud.

He then leaned down in front of you and whispered, "This is from Victoria." His voice was deep and raspy, you had the urge to vomit as soon as he opened his mouth. And your last dying thought was, how this was Bella's fault. You were about to die and it was her fault. You didn't wanna go out like this, you tried pepper spraying him in the eyes but that did nothing. It just made him more angry.

He leaned in and bit your leg. You screamed in pain and felt a burning sensation go throughout your body. But just as your vision went blurry, he was viciously yanked away by someone much taller and leaner than the other vampire.

But the only thing you could hear was your screams and sobs. The agony spreading throughout your body was unbearably painful. Undoubtedly the worst pain you've ever felt.

The man then crouched next to you, just a few seconds later, and whispered, "It's okay Amore, I'm gonna make it stop." He whispered in a thick accent that made you feel a fluttery feeling, even with the pain. And with his promise, he then began sucking the venom out of your leg. You screamed loudly again in pain, but the pain soon faded. It barely hurt now, you were just left with a dizzy feeling. He quickly pulled away making sure you were still okay.

His presence alone made you feel safer, like you were wanted, like there was a true plan for you, other than the painful loneliness that was your horrible life.

"It's okay, you're okay, let's get you to the hospital." He whispered as he wrapped a cloak around you, instantly making you warmer, "May I pick you up?" He whispered again in his gentle accent. You nodded and winced quickly after. And with your permission he gently picked you up in his cold arms. You rested your head on his chest trying to forget about the pain and events that had occurred before. He ran you to the hospital in a blink of a eye.

you felt very safe, and very drawn to this stranger. Like it was fate he found you. The words just slipped out, "M-My angel.." You whisper mumbled, and the next thing you know, everything around you got extremely blurry and you passed out.

Demetri's pov:

I dropped her off at the hospital, but left my cloak on her hospital bed. For the first time, I didn't care about anything else except for her safety. It took every fiber in my body to stop from killing her. It wasn't without difficulty, but I managed to somehow do it. I was going to meet with the rest of the coven, hoping they wouldn't notice my disappearance.

That's when I saw Scarlett, outside the hospital. She was wearing her usual, black and gold cloak with her hood up to keep from getting seen by any humans. "Uh, Excuse me? Excuse you! What are you doing Demetrius? My father won't be happy about you saving some random human!" She said in a annoyed tone.

"Aro, can deal. She is my mate. You would do the same if that were Jane!" I said and took off running towards the rest of the coven. She stood there glaring for a second, before following close behind me.

"What took so long?" Jane said emotionless as always.

I looked at Scarlett with pleading eyes. I knew that if Aro got word of her, he would kill her for being human.

Scarlett smirked and kissed Jane on her cheek, "Demetri got thirsty, we fed." She looked back at me and mouthed, 'you owe me' I kindly nodded my head. I'd do anything for her, as long as she didn't tell. I did owe her big time.

"Mhm, Well..." Jane looked at Scarlett, and ever so slightly twitched her lip up into a slight smirk, and back at the chaos we were dealing with in Seattle. "We have a bigger problem, then Demetri's thirst."

I let out a unesasary sigh, thanks to Scarlett, I had time to come up with a idea on how to hide her from the Volturi. This definitely wouldn't be a easy thing to do, but I had to try.

#demetri volturi x reader #demetri volturi imagine #demetri volturi #the volturi #bella swan x sister #the swan family #Charlie swan #for you #follow

313 notes · View notes

dannineedsfriends · 5 years ago

Text

The Things We Can't Remember - Parrlyn - Part 3

The long awaited return of danni being lazy

Trigger warnings: cursing, gay disasters and gremlin

Slowly, very slowly, the car was heating up and through the now entirely steamed up windows Boleyn could see the shadows of their front door closing. A person was approaching the car and caused Anne to sit up straight. After taking a deep breath she held onto the steering wheel and listened to the noise of the back door opening. Her left hand was hovering above the heater just right next to the dashboard.

"Hey Jane, sorry I just finished my essay- Anne?!"

As soon as the door shut, Anne took her chance and pressed the childlock.

"What the fuck, Boleyn?" But when Cathy finally grasped what happened, she was already trapped in the small car.

"What's going on?" The girl squealed, eyes widened in fear and confusion.

Anne drummed her fingers on the cold leather of the steering wheel, then turned around to face her.

"It's time to talk."

"Now, Anne- there's no need to be so brash." Cathy tries to reason, hands finding the door and trying to pull the handle to open it, to no prevail. She was stuck, in the exact opposite place of where she wanted to be.

"Usually I'm the one avoiding people, but now you're the one acting like a child, or some random Year 8, who just threatened to bang someone out." Anne cocks an eyebrow, attempting to cross one leg over the over in the tight space. "You clearly don't wanna talk to me and I don't know why, and to be frank, as much as I love you, Cath, it's almost to the point of pissing me off. It hasn't for now- I just need answers."

An uncomfortable quiet, thick as a vendetta's grudge, dangles between the two women; the only sound interrupting the venomous quiet being Anne's leg, on top of the other at this point, kicking and tapping impatiently on the door.

"Are you going to answer me or just sit there?" She sighs, not meaning to spit the words as harsh as she did, and immediately regretting doing so. It was upsetting that she was unable to apologise, because she knew Catherine, and she knew that she'd change the subject if she didn't push, and didn't push her to her limit.

Cathy gives a meagre shrug, not wanting to talk about the fact that she was indeed avoiding Anne's attempts at conversation.

"Look- Cathy- I'm happy for you, really. You found a guy and had sex, it's nothing to be ashamed of." She says with a swift shake of her head and a more than noticeable twitch of her leg as she brings it up to her chest, heel resting on the edge of the seat.

"No.. no- I-"

"Honestly, I'm your best friend and I know you weren't drunk because I think you drove? Yeah you did. I'm kinda pissed that you got laid and I didn't because I mean-" Anne pauses with a cocky look, hands brushing down her body, as if to draw attention to her figure. Which worked, as Catherine quickly found out. "Look at me, and tell me you wouldn't bed this-"

"Anne- it's not that. I really don't wanna talk about it."

"Oh? So you want me to ignore the fact that your neck makes it look like you've been violently ragged and smacked into many door ways?" She makes a rather large gesture to the area, eyes scalding her with their intent stare.

"Why do you use such… such… idiotic similes to convey your feelings?" Catherine tries, shaking her head, hand subconsciously sitting over the hickeys, hiding them from immediate sight, though it didn't work very well. Not at all.

"Ah- ah ah- I'm not letting you change the subject. I just want to know why you've been avoiding me."

"What do you even want me to tell you? That I have some big secret and that's why I'm avoiding you?" From the tone of her voice, Anne didn't need to look at her to know that her eyes were practically rolling out of her skull. Sarcasm dropped from her lips, leaking from her words and leaching to the intent quiet that came after her words. Her mouth curves down in disgust, and Anne notices that she hadn't made eye contact in a while, too long to be normal.

"It better be a big secret, because at this point I am just really pissed off by being ignored and having no clue what I've done to offend you." She begins to ramble. "All I want to know is what I've done to you to have you actively avoid me, more than you normally do to everyone else and it's bothering me and I can't stop thinking about it and-"

"It was you, okay?" She breaks into Anne's word vomit, silencing her practically immediately.

"What was me? That doesn't help whatsoever."

Catherine's eyes stare into her lap, to her fingers knotting around each other, almost ashamed to admit. "You were the one who gave me all of those hickeys."

"You what mate-"

"And I was the one who gave them to you and for one I am not proud of taking advantage of you when you were drinking and intoxicated beyond any fathom of remembering, rendering you in a state of amnesia." She shakes her head furiously, trying desperately to reach a justification of herself.

"You kidding right"

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Just let me out of the fucking car, Anne, I'm not in the mood.” Catherine rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

"No- no that's not... I- you have to be joking with me, c'mon Cathy-" Anne stuttered not quite believing the confession.

"I'm not laughing."

"But- what do you mean- how could I have even been anywhere near you?? It would've taken ages to... bruise… you like that."

"We were in a bathroom."

"Okay? Proceed."

"And things got a bit more heated than they should've-"

"But it was just kissing right??"

"Much to your dismay apparently" Catherine retorts, rolling her eyes as she turned away from her. She decided that Anne was definitely drunk when she had told her that... "Okay that's it. Let me out. It's absolutely freezing out and you're treating me like I'm eight-year-old."

Then there was the click of the lock, and Cathy was gone, leaving Anne completely alone to digest her words.

It was rather odd for Anne to volunteer to go to the shops with Jane, especially when it was movie night. Either way, the girl walked and made genuine nice conversation and as far as the mother of the group could tell, she was looking to suck up, either. Now that's weird.

There was a local shop close by, about a five minute walk, depending on how fast you walked, but to Anne it was always five. She tended to speed walk, she noticed as she continually had to slow herself to Jane's pace.

Anne's vision was flooded with a linoleum white, amplified by the harsh lights - dizzying as she stared at the unpatterned floor. How boring. Why would you go through the effort of having a nice shop and not even putting in a flooring that, at the least, goes with the aesthetic?

"Anne?" Jane asks, having stopped to watch the phenomenon that was Anne staring, eyebrows drawn, at the ground, not moving. "Anne - are you feeling alright? You're not usually this quiet… or staring at the ground…"

She blinks rapidly for a free seconds before meeting the eyes of her worried companion, humming a response. "Yeah- I'm okay. I'm just thinking a bit too much I think."

The women begin to walk up the aisles, picking up an unusual quantity of chocolate and other such treats to be indulged in front of the television upon their arrival home. "Thinking of what, exactly?" Jane asks, rather delayed but in defense, she was keeping track of the amount of goodies Anne was throwing into the basket.

"Well- that's the thing, mate." She lets out a deep sigh, throwing another pack of maltesers into Jane's arms. "I think I fucked things up with Cathy."

"You really do need to watch your language." Jane scolds mercilessly, softening her gaze still to eye her. "You need advice, basically?"

Anne nods, lips curling to one side of her face, almost ashamed of having to ask her such things.

"I doubt you've done anything that bad, to hurt her to the point where you completely messed things up, I'm sure of that." She reassures, looking at the contents of the basket and gazing longingly into her purse.

"I locked her in a car."

"You did what?" Her gaze snaps to Anne.

"I locked her in a car and forced her to talk to me- but! In my defense, she's been ignoring me since the party and I wanted to know why… and I did find out." Boleyn mumbles, eyebrows bouncing rambunctiously around her face.

"Anne… oh Anne… that is not the way to go about things."

"But it's my way."

"Anne, locking your friend in a car to talk to her is not the answer." Jane says, rifling through the shelf to find the last box of Jaffa Cakes. Jane likes Jaffa Cakes.

"But I didn't use violence! I didn't physically harm her in order to get her to talk to me so I met all the criteria you asked of me before!" She whines.

"Don't you have any common sense?" The clearly more mature woman asks, turning and walking to the next aisle to get some drinks, waiting for Anne to choose everyone's. She does, of course, piling up the bottles until Jane thinks that her arm has lost all circulation.

"I just don't know what to do. Jane- we- we almost did something."

"I know, I know. Catherine already told me in her own version of…" she gestures to the mess that was Anne Boleyn. "... this."

"She told you?"

"Yes- yes. Please don't go after her about it. She was anxious and… shocked. Yeah. Shocked is the word for it." Jane pauses for a second, turning and beginning to walk to the counter to pay for the binge. "Just ask her out, okay? Like a normal person. No cars involved."

As inconvenient as a coincidence could be, it just happened to be today, didn't it? Anne curls a lock of her hair around her finger nervously, the bit that she had missed putting into her bun. She sinks into her usual seat, watching as the other girls filter into their seats, Jane furthest away, then Anna and Kitty and Aragon and that only left Cathy, to be seated in the only free place. Next to her.

Shit.

Parr was clearly angry with her, and wasn't going to be civil any time soon, therefore, Anne decided promptly that the only way to get Cathy to be nice to her, is by making her fall doubtlessly in love with her. She would achieve this by using her irresistible charms, and Catherine would not be able to betray her true feelings.

How could she not like Anne? Boleyn had given her all the signs and probably more than she'd be willing to admit.

She pulls the blanket over herself further, sensing the movement of the girl behind her and moves on the sofa, shuffling further away to give her more room. Just as predicted, Cathy, without hesitation, nestles into the crevice closest to Anne.

As always, they were sat in form next to one another, staring at the TV, barely touching and waiting for the film to be decided on.

"Who let Jane buy Jaffa Cakes?" Boleyn complains obnoxiously as Aragon scrolls through the films, trying to find the right one to watch. It's horror night: every week it rotated through a chance spinner and this was what it had landed on.

"You were the one who went with her, Annie." Kitty points out, tilting her head seemingly innocently, but Anne knows better than to fall for the I'm-a-little-sweetheart ruse. Her head tilt is accusatory.

"I just don't understand how she likes them- you bite into it and there's the orange glibbery bit and it's disgusting-" Anne continues, lips down turning in distaste and disgust.

"How about this one?" Aragon interrupts the quarrel, and after a unanimous agree, the movie started and everyone shut up.

One thing that Anne marked as a bad idea almost immediately was the drink held in Cathy's clasped hands, occasionally taking a sip. Parr had a tendency to jump during the smallest of scares - and jump she did.

Catherine Parr sat on the sofa, eyes wide with shock and Boleyn even thought she saw her tremble a little bit. The girl was drenched in lemonade - and all she could do was stare helplessly as the other queens paused the film and erupted into giggles.

Not Anne though. Anne just slowly shook her head and peeled the fleece blanket off of her legs and placed the cup on the floor next to the couch, mumbling to Catherine to tell her to change and then come back so that they could finish the movie.

She scurried off into the kitchen and Anne discards the blanket off to the corner of the room, to be washed. Settling back into the corner of the sofa, she pulls most of the cover off of her legs, yawning and leaning back into the couch pillow.

Idle chatter broke out between Jane and Kitty- something about how she can leave any time she wanted if she's too scared and that she'll even take her upstairs and watch a different movie. Jane was nice, it wasn't that Anne didn't think that Jane was nice before, she was just the motherly loving figure to Kat that Boleyn had always wanted. What she would give to have a maternal figure to look up to.

Perhaps she could also refer to Jane but it would be rather selfish, considering that they were practically the same age and Anne just yearned for affection, no matter who it was. She wants someone to hold her before she went to sleep, and kiss her head and her hand and make her feel loved. Was she loved at all..?

That was a real question. Catherine had hardly even looked at her for the entirety of the movie as thus far- how was she to know if she was still mad at her? It was going to be weeks and weeks of torture if she kept this up. Long hours of moping and just wanting someone to hold her hand- just for a little while. They didn't even have to hold it tight, just for a few minutes let her pretend that Anne Boleyn might be worth something to someone.

She shakes the thought out of her head. That got deep super quick and she didn't like it.

Seeing the movement from the kitchen door, she turns at the right moment to see Cathy reentering, draped in one of Anne's dark green shirts- the loose ones that Anne could fit her leg inside of. She had given it to Cathy to wear before, when Anne had accidentally smudged her lipstick on her light blouse when she had hugged her. Needless to say, it was a sight for sore eyes.

It wasn't a rare occurrence for Boleyn to stare her down but this- this was something different. before she had even opened her mouth she was cut off.

"This was the only shirt left out on the side. 'Hope you don't mind." She says, shrugging one shoulder and walking into the room to shove herself back in the spot next to Anne.

"No it wasn't- I did the washing earli-" Anna is cut off by Catherine's glare from across the room, as well as Howard's elbow to her arm.

Silence ensues once more as the girls settle, Boleyn turning herself completely and throwing the blanket over Cathy too, shuffling up to lean on her and idly resting her hand between them on the sofa.

A few minutes after the film had been resumed, Parr's arm had found it's way around Anne's shoulders, gently holding her in place. Though, when Boleyn had moved her hand in between them, to make sure it was still there, she realised how odd that it was that the sofa felt so smooth beneath her touch.

She draws her eyebrows together, softly pinching the material and running her fingers over a small area, truly mesmerised by how soft Jane had made the couch. Maybe the fabric softener she had used had worked - and worked well at that. Her trimmed nails didn't even catch, either! It was unnecessarily satisfying being able to touch the sofa without getting stuck on it.

Cathy shifts next to her, squeezing her shoulder slightly and Anne has to look over in confusion. What's wrong with her? Was she scared, maybe? She looks back to the screen and nothing particularly interesting was happening, just two characters talking, one clearly wounded.

Boleyn lays her head against her shoulder again, hand still tapping meticulously against the sofa. She yawns softly and turns, putting her forehead to her shoulder and pressing a kiss through the sheer fabric and turning back like she did nothing.

"Anne-" Cathy's soft voice whispers in her ear and her stomach drops, thinking she's in trouble. The whisper was low and gentle and she knew for a fact that she was the only one who could hear it. When she turns her head, Parr's lips close softly against her cheek. Anne's face flushes a soft pink, turning away as a massive grin crawls across her face.

All goes smoothly, too, until Cathy removes her arm from around Boleyn. Okay- fair. Maybe she was just uncomfy. She brushes it off and watches the film, still leaning into her.

But what she didn't expect was Catherine's hand to reach under the blanket and press immediately on top of her own.

"Hm?" Anne hums, turning and looking at her. Fingers are wrapped around her own, gently guiding her hand down a curve in the sofa. Wait-

Wait no-

That's not how the sofa is- they're both sat on one cushion-

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Anne realised, startled and a little bit too late, that her hand was now resting on Catherine's inner thigh. Had it been there this entire time?

So the couch wasn't soft. She was delusional. It- it was Cathy's leg the whole- shes an idiot. Anne decided. She was an idiot.

Letting out a breath, she closes her eyes slightly and turns to watch Parr, increasingly concerned as her face contorts, posture closing in on itself, looking as if she was the most uncomfortable that one person could possibly be. She shakes her head to herself and Anne has the strong urge to kidnap her again (not to the car, this time) and hold her until she's able to make witty comments again.

Instead, all she does is give her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"It's not real, love." Boleyn whispers, making sure she wasn't attractive any unwanted eyes, and sitting up straighter to kiss her shoulder again. "I promise- you don't need to be scared."

And with Anne so close, it was practically impossible.

About 20 minutes before the movie had ended, Boleyn threw the covers off of herself and skittered off to the kitchen, earning some weird glances but everyone just shrugging. Sometimes Anne forgot that she had a bladder. Maybe?

In the kitchen, Anne rips off a small piece of paper, and taps anxiously on the marble countertop. How could she word this eloquently?

She watches the clock on the wall, the seconds passing on and on and on and nothing in particular was coming into her mind. Was she about to fuck shit up? Always.

"You and me. Date. Saturday." Anne writes, her immaculate handwriting pressed finely into the paper. Where beneath the draws two small boxes, labeling one 'yes' and the other 'absolutely'. She folds the note and proceeds to write on the front: for the eyes of my cathy p <3 only.

She releases a rattling breath as she calmly walks back to the living room, wading through the tension as she flicks off the kitchen light. Anne tucked herself back next to Catherine.

With her heart beating in her ears, she hands her the slip of paper.

Tag list: @obliviousasheck @everything-insanity @epitomeofchaoss @nancynotruth @distracting-childish-rivalry @its-totes-gods-will @canadianharrypotter @whenallthestarscollide @annabanana2401 @sillystarshine @33o9 @six-is-awesome @weepingvenus

#it could be parrlyn idk man #parrlyn if you squint #parrlyn #parrelyn #catherine parr x anne boleyn #catherine x anne #catherine #anne boleyn #six the musical #six fanfiction #six fandom #six #six fanfic #anne boleyn x catherine parr #anne x catherine #catherine parr

150 notes · View notes

wincore · 4 years ago

Note

AGREEEE, WORKING OVER THE WEEKEND IS THE WORST esp since im in uni full time and i work 9-5 on the weekends which means... no breaks for me ever.. 🥲

MASSIVE CRUSH ON OIKAWA OMGGG I SUPPORT THIS!!!!! but i am unfortunately much older than 15 and still enamored by 2d men 😔 life’s rough like that HDJWKDJ YES ATSUMU CAUSES PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE.. HES THE WORST!! btw.. ive heard that the oikawa to atsumu stan pipeline is very real... so if u get to s4.. u may develop atsumu brain rot like me 👁_👁

OOO alright run on, extracurricular, vincenzo, true beauty, love alarm, & perfect crime. NOTED!! ive actually been meaning to watch extracurricular for a while now, it looks so interesting!! now that it has the wincore seal of approval i must watch 😤 OMGG SAKURADA DORI I SAW HIM IN ALICE IN BORDERLAND!! super good show but really gore heavy at some points 👁

ahh ok thank u for the reccs, ive been thinking about starting demon slayer too!! shoplifters sounds really interesting :oo crime??? i havent watched a full movie in a while so i will def check it out!! THESE R ALL GOING IN MY NOTES APP.

NEXT YEARRR omg it sounds far away but i know time passes so quickly nowadays so I WILL WISH U LUCK ONCE AGAIN 💛 i hope u update us when the time comes!!

UGHWHHD EVEN THIS SYNOPSIS IS MAKING ME MISS UR WRITING?!? I LOVE THE WAY U WORD IT... “given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear” AHHHHHHH omg “he’s in a relationship and doesn’t rlly care about the soulmate system” THIS IS ALWAYS SUCH A PAINFUL SCENARIO IN SOULMATE AUS PLSS!!! Wait is the soulmate of yn gonna be an oc/vague character or another member :O EITHER WAY... PAIN! THIS IS GETTING ME SO EXCITED AND U HAVENT EVEN MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT JAEHYUN’S LIKE IN THIS FIC YET

RUNWAY CHARACTER CAMEOOOS YESS I LOVE RUNWAY YN!!!! i actually reread it last night and ugh i was reminded how much i love yns personality... just the process of experiencing all tht self doubt with them!!! so real & makes u root for them :’)

“if jeno plays edward i need him to that apple scene like taemin did” WHHHHHWJDJJWJDBW THIS MADE ME CHOKE ON THE WATER I WAS DRINKING LMFAO

GODDDD THESE TROPE/MEMBER PAIRINGS, HARD AGREE HARD AGREE!!! HAECHAN AND RENJUN ARE E2L 100%!!!! i think bc the ppl in the bff2l category cant convincingly hate yn back LOL

“gets complimented on his lyricism often but like every song’s about you” STOPPPPP HES SO PERFDCT FOR THIS TROPE!!!!!

OMG I SEE EXACTLY WHAT U MEAN ABT SICHENG IN ROYALTY/CHAEBOL AUS... i think like u said it’s because of his poise & the way ppl are generally in awe of him but also bc of his reluctance to open up!! more reserved until he trusts u... funny and kind but sometimes perceived as aloof... those r some prince tendencies! “what are corporate businesses but modern day kingdoms” LMFAOOWJDJ SERIOUSLY THO

“mans really said i will not give you any onscreen idol personality to work with” HDJWJDJWJSJ LITERALLYYYY this is why i have trouble reading jaehyun fics sometimes bc sometimes they can feel “inaccurate” but its mostly just bc there’s no Standard Personality Stereotype to go off of. but a random & uncommon trope i think he’d pair well with is exes to lovers!! Yes im basically just a jaehyun + angst advocate.

“i think most of them would pair well with bff2l??” FACTTTTTTT and no im not just saying this bc its one of my favorite tropes.. heh... i think i told u this before?? but ur like the main reason i started enjoying e2l!!! i didnt like it before bc i love the PINING in bff2l but then i started reading ur works n was like OH SHIT! THERES LOADS OF PINING HERE TOO...

i think yangyang is not bff2l or e2l, he is in his own category which is Annoyer2Lover HDJWKDJ ex: troublemaker, wasted nights

OMGGGG I DID NOT EXPECT ROYALTY AU TO HAVE SUCH A LARGE LEAD IN THE SURVEY??? and cryptids is so low 😔😔 cmon guys, vampires r fun!!!

WE R LITERALLY WRITING ESSAYS TO EACH OTHER RN BUT I LOVE IT 🥺🥺 its a such a nice break to read ur response when im burnt out from studying!!

OMG IM GOING THROUGH #moonwrites AND IM LITERALLY AN IDIOTTTT IVE BEEN OFF TUMBLR FOR SO LONG I DIDNT REALIZE THAT ROMEO ROULETTE HAD A PREVIEW OUT????

“And I get what out of this?” “Me?” IM IN LOVE WITH THIS CHARACTERS PERSONALITY ALREADY LMFAOO

“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.” ?!?!???? THE WAY JAEHYUN IS A LITTLE SHIT! THEIR PERSONALITIES ARE BOTH SO FUN PLSJWJDJEJ IM MORE EXCITED NOW!!

pls disregard the part in my last ask where i asked abt romeo roulette.... i had no idea all of the information i needed was sitting right in front of me 😔😔

- tata

WHAT 9 TO 5 ON EVERY WEEKEND???? the system has failed you this honestly feels like a villain origin story 😭 when does it get better???

ALSO let me answer the other asks separately for better readability lol we really out here writing essays GOOD THING i have practice writing but like. this is infinitely better to write 🥰

PLSSS SOMETIMES I WILL SEE AN EDIT/TIKTOK OF OIKAWA AND BE LIKE DAMN I REALLY NEED TO CATCH UP I MISS THIS MF also are you daring me to ruin my life for 2d men bc i will do it without hesitation. wait till i watch hq again and get that atsumu brainrot with you he seems annoying enough for me to like ^_^

AND YES PLS I WAS SO ABSORBED IN IT!! extracurricular was the most gripping show i’ve watched in a while like yes enough teen romance give me two unhinged teenagers doing crime 🤩 AND OMG??? THAT’S WHERE WE SAW HIM TOO and although niragi was literally vomit-inducing human trash, sakurada dori is like. a good actor. except i hated coffee&vanilla which starred him it was literally so cringe i couldn’t 😭 i blame the writers for that though. IM EXCITED FOR S2 OF ALICE IN BORDERLAND THO i really like horror (and i can tolerate gore if ive been desensitized enough) and like i read the manga too!!! the games were really interesting (although morbid).

😭😭 MY NOTES APP IS FULL OF RECS FROM FRIENDS ALL OF THEM HATE ME FOR NOT WATCHING THE SHOWS BUT LIKE. i binge 3 or 4 at a time and strike them off and then go 6 months without watching a single tv series hhh.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I SURE WILL UPDATE !!! it’s so exciting to think about grad school sometimes :33

AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT AND THE PREVIEW TOO SGSDJKDS there’s a few differences in the actual fic i think bc i changed up the language (and i dont remember what else bc i refuse to look at my writing) JAEHYUN RLLY IS A LITTLE SHIT he’ll be like hm yeah im pretty chill :) and then proceed to beat yn at her own game at times. (she wins mostly dw) the fact that i made her soulmate cha eunwoo like girl if i were you i’d crash their relationship 🥱 (jk) but like. jaehyun too is 🤩 despite being dry af

ASDKDSKDS YOU REREAD ALL (ALMOST) 19K WORDS ??? IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THAT FIC SM AAAAHHH IM FEELING LIKE AN ACTUAL AUTHOR 🥰 i loved runway yn too they were like boss attitude with 20% anxiety.

LOOK JENO BETTER BE PULLING MOVES LIKE THAT TO IMPRESS THE GIRLS 😤 if he hits himself in the forehead with the apple, bonus points bc that was true comedy (as invented by taemin)

AND YES. LIKE I KNOW MARK HATED DONGHYUCK SO MUCH HE WANTED TO LEAVE SM BUT LIKE HE’S TOO NICE WITH EVERYONE ELSE 😭😭😭 i cannot picture him pissed off apart from that summer fight </3

thinking about dejun getting rejected by a girl he wrote a song for. rip brother.

IM GLAD YOU PUT THAT INTO WORDS BC THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS!!! he’s got all of these regal qualities but he’s still human ykyk so it makes for the most amiable person on earth 😌 i love this characterization of him!!

oof exes to lovers with jaehyun... i had a similar idea a while ago (with theme song sincerity is scary by the 1975) that i discarded bc i don’t think i’m cut out to write that 😭 (YET) so i will keep this is mind. u r so right about jaehyun feeling inaccurate bc it’s like he’s very mild in personality onscreen sometimes?? so him having strong personality traits makes me go 🤔🤔 that man is overreacting. (jkjk but like you get the idea)

WAIT RLLY OMG BC OF ME???? i would never enjoy e2l irl bc irl dudes are 🤢🤢 and if they annoy me i will end them. but in fiction the mutual pining and initial disgust at yourself for liking the other??? helllooo 🤩🤩🤩 especially if it’s in a romcom style <3 bff2l is also better in fiction bc if the relationship doesnt work out irl and the person become uncomfortable with me i will just get annoyed jskshdl

LMAO YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABOUT YANGYANG HE’S JUST THAT™ DUDE skgkhs he feels like someone fun to hang out with but he would annoy you the whole time. also he is cute 🥰

AND EXACTLY!!!! IM HAPPY FOR ROYALTY AUS BUT CMON. LOOK AT THOSE VAMPIRE TEETH. feel like media ruined vampires for people 😔

THIS IS SUCH A NICE BREAK FROM STUDYING HONESTLY!!!! im like working on two semi-large projects AND studying course and out-of-course material simultaneously so my brain is a little fried. thank u for this 😘

#tata 💖#anon #answered

2 notes · View notes

kinkyacademia · 6 years ago

Note

*Puts down Menu* I'd like some of the Dragon Overhaul please

i think the phrasing was a joke, but pfft… I don’t know. I’m taking this because you said please~ so your manners are skimming the surface, but Kai is honestly such a thirst quencher.A/N OH THANK THE GODS ALMIGHTY, I ACTUALLY FINISHED THIS. Seriously, I never thought the day would come. My eyes are watering, I have other essays due, but damn if this isn’t something I’m proud of. Lemon!!!

-Mod Pasta🍜🍝

At first, it started with you picking the winter blossoms from the banks of his river, and soon it grew into a game; how long could you pick flowers from the dragon’s territory before he showed up and chased you off.

The game was immensely risky, and you’ve burnt quite a lot of your clothes doing it, but if you were to be honest with yourself, the flowers were the best in the country. Besides, you liked the rush. There would either be a growing swishing noise that eventually got close enough to blow sticks in your face and alert you of how close he was, or the breaking of branches as he ran towards you could tick you off that he wasn’t particularly fond of your presence this time around.

This went on for an entire year. Each season brought new ingredients to your healing shop on the edge of town, and with this new supply, business was better than ever. Your eldest brother technically owned the place, but he let you do the work so that you wouldn’t get married just yet. It was his own way of repaying you for your services. Your mother had founded the practice when she was just a kid, travelling for decades to gain knowledge of remedies and writing them down as she went along. She settled in this town, and when she died, she showed you her personal collection of books. One mentioned not to go towards the mountain for a specific flower bulb that could cure the common cold, and instead to ask her friend for a small shipment.

You were stubborn, and instead of listening, you found yourself in a long game of cat and mouse with the nearest dragon. He wasn’t very big for his kind, but he made up for it with intimidation. His glowing orange eyes would bear into you ferociously, and the spikes along his back got seemingly longer and sharper every time you witnessed them. For some odd reason, though, he let you live. Perhaps he didn’t care for the flowers, or maybe he liked seeing you run off looking like an obsessive fool, but you hadn’t gotten seriously injured from your secret endeavors yet.

Until today-well, you weren’t necessarily “injured.” It was more like you couldn’t leave.

He wouldn’t let you. Every time you tried to get back home after he appeared behind you to block off your path, he would snarl menacingly. You ended up with your arms crossed, about a mile into his territory and absolutely no idea how to sate the beast. He was laying across from you, rubbing his muzzle against a rock and slowly carving into it. You glared daggers at him, muttering little obscenities such as, “You are a bloody nightmare.”

You pushed your choppy, short (H/C) hair back, waiting for him to give you any sign that he was paying attention. You should have been afraid, but if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it when he first met you. When he seemed to settle down for the hundredth time, you pushed yourself up slowly and started walking away from him, deeper into his territory. Your logic was that you could just get to the other side of it and take the main roads back to your village. It was your best option.

You walked for hours, many, and the sun even started to set. You knew the dangers of the forest at night, and although most of them were fake, you grabbed a sharp stick for comfort and continued on. Stopping would only allow him time to wake up, smell you, and head after you if he so pleased. You hoped he didn’t. You should have stopped picking the flowers a long time ago, and now you were stuck with the newly obsessed reptile.

Dirt got into your leather boots, and leaves stuck to the bottom of them. Your arms were littered with scratches from passing bushes and low hanging tree branches. As the sun peeked out, you sighed in relief, being able to see exactly how far you had come. You panted with the effort it took to keep going without stopping for water or food, you wouldn’t let yourself believe that your situation was that desperate. You trucked on, your boots becoming stuck to your legs. About mid-day, you spotted something shiny in the corner of your eye. Upon turning your head to look, it was obscured, but you did see the gravel road that it was near. Your eyes lit up, and you quickly headed that way.

As you neared it, you quite quickly saw the problem; the shiny thing was the dragon, and he was laying on the road. You swallowed hard, sighing and gritting your teeth. He was asleep, breathing quite slowly, so you decided to walk a little farther down the road and perhaps get to the other side that way. That must be the edge of his territory.

If only you had given up then and realized how well he could predict where you would go, you would have done it earlier. Every time you approached the road, he was sitting up at attention, looking around for you. He wasn’t looking, you realized, just teasing. You eventually approached him, cheeks flushed with anger as you gripped your meagre stick, “Dragon, what in Gods’ name do you desire?”

Much to your surprise, the dragon’s eyes flitted to you, and his long, large, plated neck squeaked as metal met and bent metal, and his neck dropped down to your level. Once he was at eye level, you realized that if you curled up tight enough, you would fit one of his sockets. He cocked his head nearly 180 degrees, and when he opened his mouth, you nearly vomited from the smell of pure copper and sulphur. What happened next nearly made you faint as well; he spoke.

“To break you, little human,” his voice was comically deep, held an unknown accent, and his words didn’t quite make perfect sense. It was also crackly, as if he hadn’t spoken in years. You gaped, pulling your stick to your chest.

“Y-You can sp?… why did you not say that earlier? I walked all this way, reptile,” you couldn’t bring yourself to scowl at such a creature. His mouth stretched, and you swore he was smiling at your anger.

“To show you how helpless you are now to me,” he had to correct himself once on what he was saying, but your breath hitched when you understood; he wasn’t kidding. He wanted to break you, something about you, and he was going to get what he wanted.

“What do you want to… uh, break?” Your voice fell into a whisper, and the dragon’s vocal chords hummed in a loud, reptilian chorus.

“Your… spirit. You will bow to me, I will…” his pupils closed in on themselves, becoming even thinner slits, “Own you.”

“I’d rather keel over and die, Dragon,” it took you a second to think of how you should respond, but when you did, you said it with confidence. He pulled his head back up to where he was towering over you. He wouldn’t speak, and continued to watch you as you shouted and tried to escape. You even went as far as to ignore his growling when you would overstep his territory, and his long, spiked tail came around to trap you against himself. Now you were leaning on the hunk of metal, arms crossed and seething.

This wasn’t going to end well.

A full month passed. You knew your brother’s shop was probably ruined, you presumed dead, and you could do nothing about it. The dragon, as you now knew as Overhaul, had shown you a small cave beside his own larger one that you were allowed to live in. You had to catch your own food when he didn’t bring you dead animals to cook. You had asked him to start your fires, but he refused, watched you in amusement as you used your minimal magical abilities to create a simple spark. Having made potions for so long, you had to know how to make the process go by faster, even by a little.

You also had a bed of dried leaves and tall grass. His own bed was a pile of melted gold and other metals and jewels, as you learned the day he showed you around. You also learned you weren’t allowed in his “den,” because you had just wandered in to ask a question when you were shooed out by a small shot of fire that caught your hair and caused you to cut it even shorter. He had watched you do it, fascinated by how much you payed attention to how you looked.

You would throw insults at him at random, and he would growl at you when you did it. If you actually did something to defy him, he would punish you by refusing you let you leave your den for however long he announced. Once you had set fire to his forest, so he didn’t let you eat for two days. You had to get used to letting him control your life, but you hated how his statement of “breaking your spirit” was slowly falling into place.

He wasn’t lying, it was weighing on you. Sometimes you thought it might just be easier to do what he says and hope for the best, but your pride wouldn’t let you.

So you ended up sitting in front of his cave, legs and arms crossed, looking inside. If he wanted you gone, he would just throw fire at you, right? You would take it. Burning you to a crisp would only hurt him.

“Go back,” His rough voice came from deep inside the black depths, but you did not listen. After about a minute, a growl resonated out, and his head stuck out of the darkness, peering down at you, “You dare defy me, human?”

“I have a name, and I have told you many times before. It is (L/N) (F/N), and if I must live here with you, then I expect you to learn who I am,” You snapped, and there was a clanking of metallic scales that alerted you to his anger.

“(L/N) (F/N),” His head dropped to your level, mere inches away. The smell nearly made you throw up, and as your eyes watered, you remained seated, “Your spirit is quite strong. I despise that,” He scoffed, his multi-lidded eyes studying you, making him seem cross-eyed.

You took the liberty of standing up and addressing him with the strongest voice you could muster, “You cannot break the will of a river, Overhaul.”

“I will.”

Alright, you were damn sure that there was only one dragon there last night. Still, to your surprise, Overhaul was out of his nest and speaking a barbaric language of which you could not understand with another smaller dragon. This one’s scales resembled lizard’s scales, with his two sides having a row of arrows that remained attached to him and floating, pointed behind him. He was sleeker, his tail curled around one of his hind legs and neck much longer than Overhaul’s.

As you watched them, they would occasionally glance at you. You tried to scoot away to grab some water, but a small growl from your owner had you back at the cave’s entrance. The other dragon purred at that. Great… they must be talking about you.

They took hours, and ended up laying down with their tails towards you. As it reached mid-day, you had nearly fallen back into a sun-baked sleep when the other dragon jumped up, barking at Overhaul. Overhaul roared back, deep and short. The other repeated his bark, shaking his head and taking a step closer to you. You scrambled up, and Overhaul did as well, stepping in front of you and blocking you off from the other.

They threw a couple more words out at each other before the smaller one shot a ball of flame at Overhaul! He blocked it with his large tail, then send a stream of concentrated flame back at him. The other dragon reared back, ready to shoot once more, before decided against it and falling back to his feet. He spread his wings, and Overhaul spread a single one over you. At this point, you took it; he was protecting you.

The smaller dragon said a couple more things, then switched to shaky English. His voice was surprisingly smooth, and held a whimsical undertone, “Maybe next time, Kai. You’re much too busy with that thing.”

After that, Overhaul wrapped himself around you in a loose circle and explained in short what had happened. He usually kept his sentences short and sweet, but for some reason, this day he tried to keep an entire conversation going despite his rudeness.

“He was here to present himself.”

“Present? Is that similar to a competition?” You inquired, now sitting back down and against his body. The dragon blinked, then tried to imitate how you shook your head no.

“He wished to mate,” You spluttered - mate? This dragon was capable of love? Obviously he wasn’t, the guy left furious!

“That’s strange, why did you not send him off at once?” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you leaned closer to his muzzle in attention.

“We are still… “friends,” as you may say, but I do not need him this season,” He closed his eyes, and you tensed up. That meant that he was capable of love at some point, or that other dragon really loved being hated.

“Is it because I am here? I can finally leave, if that pleases you,” You laughed, and his growl shut you up.

“No, you will not leave, flower picker (L/N),” The circle you were in tightened, and you nodded furiously.

“Alright, alright!” You paused, “You say, Overhaul, he called you Kai,” You mused, and he made a high pitched groan, unfurling himself from around you.

“Pick flowers, damned human,” And you were off at his words, for repercussions would occur if you were not.

You visited the place you used to pick flowers all those months ago, but the patches were gone. Not only were they gone, the ground was rooted. You swallowed hard, following the edge of his forest around to another side where you could grab some tea leaves. The chill of the morning set in without the constant beating of sun, and you made quick work before also taking a bucket of water back with you.

Upon returning, you saw Overhaul still at the front of the caves. He was lying asleep in front of his own. You set your leaves and water down, not caring to be gentle - he sure was not. You went and grabbed the proper material to make tea, then set the sticks on fire as the sun dipped below the clouds.

The smell of smoke must have woken him up, because his tightly wound ball uncurled itself, and his snake-like head raised up to look down at what you were doing.

You continued, not paying him any mind. He watched your actions, simple yet precise. Once the water was hot enough, you dropped the fresh leaves in, and the aroma became nostalgic and soft. You glanced up at the beast, and his eyes slowly met your own. They were orange, pupils the shape of ovals, and bore into you. You sighed, shaking your head and looking back at the boiling water, “We could live in harmony, Overhaul. I would be alright just being here, not having my sanity whittled down every day.”

He nodded, or more his head bobbed up and down, and you had to stifle a chuckle, “I would not mind it, but you must understand that I own you,” He lowered his head to your level once more, “Look at me when I speak, (L/N),” Without a second thought, you did so, eyes sombre and shoulders down, “You are mine, human, with no doubt.”

You sighed, gritting your teeth, but your anger only brought memory of his own. You backed down, nodding slowly.

He did not respond. Instead, he looked back at the tea, and you forced a smile as you did the same. You got up to go grab some cups from your cave, but a small grunt from him stopped you. You glanced at him, and he shook his head, “Wait.”

And that’s when your world flipped upside down for the second time. The dragon began to shrink, and his scale plates melded into one another while his neck shortened. As he did this, he jumped onto his hind legs, and his colour began to change from silver and brown to a sun kissed tan. His clawed paws, now the size of a mere dinner plates, reached up to his head and rubbed it, short brown hair sprouting out and becoming ruffled. His closed his eyes, and your jaw dropped when the previously mansion-sized beast shook his entire body, rubbing a couple flaws out of it before opening his now brown eyes. He was a lot taller than you, and you scrambled to your feet in shock.

“O-Overhaul?” Your voice was dry, and he glanced around before nodding and suddenly running into his cave, a face of determination on. Your eyebrows knotted together, never having expected to see something like that, especially since he was naked.

Still, he didn’t take long, and he returned with a royal king’s purple skirt on, two golden cups in hand. He sat cross-legged in front of the fire, setting the cups down and staring at you. You couldn’t move out of pure confusion, “Over.. haul?” You repeated.

“Yes, now sit,” It was the same voice as before, but without the struggle to pronounce words. He was smooth, fluent, and it was still deep and held authority. You responded simply on auto drive, observing every part of him. He still had a smaller version of his tail from before, with the line of spikes crawling up his back, and his ears were now smaller versions of the metal spikes they once were. His nails were black, a little long, and sharp. You had to admit it outright… he chose a good human form.

“You can… and you never before?” You tried to form a sentence to describe what had just happened, but it was impossible. He had shape shifted.

“Some dragons can. I am powerful, and can easily do so,” He announced proudly, sharp teeth now showing, and you nodded slowly.

“Alright,” Then silence engulfed you. He glanced at the tea, then his eyes flickered back to you.

“Pour us tea, (F/N),” He ordered, and you flinched as he used your first name.

“It’s (L/N), you don’t deserve to call me that,” You grabbed the goblets, then a large leaf to use as a mitt. You poured the tea for the both of you, handing him the large cup and placing the kettle back on the rig. You sipped, enjoying the warmth as the forest became colder. He stared at you, not blinking a single time as he drank from his own.

“I call you what I want, petty human,” He snickered, now able to show how truly ruthless his insults were since you could read his body language. You must truly have lost some sense of sanity if you were easily becoming accustomed to this new form.

“Alright, alright, but don’t think we’re actually that close, Overhaul,” You snapped, and his eyes narrowed.

“We are, are we not? You live with me, I protect you, and you are mine,” He implored, and you looked down at your cup. Damn him, he was even having tea with you. This wasn’t looking good on your part.

“That sounds much worse when you are like this,” You muttered. A dragon stealing a girl wasn’t new information, but a dragon that can turn into a man stealing a girl? It was all too convenient for you, considering what happened earlier today, “Protect? You think you are protecting me?”

“Yes, I must. This is how my species expresses itself,” He shrugged, “Others have their own rituals, mine does not suit you?” He cocked his head to the side, and you scoffed in disdain.

“Really? Do I look remotely happy?” You retorted with a shrill voice, and he blinked slowly before setting his cup down.

“I do imitate Volcano Dwellers quite well, or perhaps a Hoarder?” He leaned back, rolling over onto all for hands and feet and scuttling around the fire to you, his wide eyes studying your reaction as you scooted away.

“Ah… I do not know either species very well, why would you act differently? All dragons steal young maidens,” You pointed out, and he grinned evilly before pushing himself up and standing.

“You will understand soon enough, (F/N), the time will be right,” Your dragon grabbed his goblet off the floor, making his way back to his cave. Seeing his human form in comparison to the cave, shadows of the flames licking his skirt, you started to understand just how easily he could have killed you at any time.

A week passed, and Overhaul had practically become a different “dragon.” He occasionally changed out of his human form to hunt and such, but he stayed your size as long as possible. He had begun to skin the animals, leaving their hides out to tan. He had pulled many hides from his own den out and half-hazardously thrown them into your den when you weren’t around. It was sweet, but very out of character. You suspected that he was just getting rid of the old ones and making room for new pieces.

It almost made you think he had gone soft and would allow you to return home, but with how long you had been gone, you highly suspected that the shop did not last. Your family might have moved to live with a relative across the lands, or they may not wish to even take you back. You had been but a burden to them before.

That damned dragon really did get to me, huh? You scowled, reaching deeper into the bushes that you were picking strawberries in.

“Ow!” You pulled back - something was sharp in there! As you nursed your finger, you tentatively pushed the leaves aside. Behind the patches of red, green, and pink, there was some dug up ground with dead stems sticking out of it. For every couple dead stems, there was another half grown plant with small bristles on each of its leaves.

You curiously peered around, looking for clues as to why Overhaul had gotten into gardening. When you spotted a wilting flower, your eyebrows raised.It was the flower you used to pick from his borders. You had thought he killed them all, but in fact, he had brought them much closer to your caves. A small smile tugged at your lips, and you shook your head.

When you returned with the barrel of berries, you were surprised to find Overhaul out of sight. There was a strong smell of rust, musk, and charcoal in the air, and you brought your scarf up to your face to cover yourself from the overwhelming smell. You set aside a bit of the berries for jam, and the rest you washed off before sitting at the edge of your cave and munching on them.

Dawn grew closer, and you took to drawing with charcoal on the paper he once stole from passerby. You hummed to yourself, enjoying the solitude, but also curious as to why it was happening. Your captor would usually be watching you from afar, or asking to try the foods you made. He was trying to talk to you more, but his feeble compliments usually held a strange undertone, such as “Your skin has darkened since you arrived, that has made it quite supple.”

He really was starting to confuse you. At one moment he would be showering you with gifts and compliments, and the moment you attempted to leave, he would turn on you and growl. There was no point to being nice to you if he was also confining you.

Once the sun went down, you struck the fire back up and began to prepare the jelly. As you did, you heard shuffling from inside his cave. Ignoring it, he eventually made his way out, albeit slowly. He was so slow that you glanced at him, then jolted in place when you saw that he was wearing the lower half of a set of armour without the boots. His back was arched, and he stalked slowly around the edges of the rocky cliffs before reaching the fire, sitting down beside you.

“Where did that uh… come from?” You gestured to the set, trying to focus on the strawberries. His smell was everywhere, and it wasn’t as good as he thought it was.

“A few seasons ago I destroyed a village. The feeble king wore this,” He nodded, then leaned over to you. You tensed up, spoon in hand, and his nose nestled into your hair and he inhaled deeply.

“Ahhhh…” You trailed off, and he eased back to himself without a word, leaving you to stumble back into what you were doing. While he did have the looks to kill, he also kidnapped you, “It’s not me.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not the one that smells. That’s you, Overhaul,” You pointed out, pointing to him with the strawberry covered spoon, “You stink.”

“Thank you,” He purred, and you swallowed hard. This damned dragon was getting on your nerves!

“Alright, Overhaul, spit it out. What’s going on with you?” You abandoned the pot, sitting down in front of the large man and crossing your arms. He cocked an eyebrow in question, “First you practically torture me after kidnapping me, now you’re offering me the finest beaver pelts and leaving jewels in my room - bloody hell, you’re feeding me more, and now you think I’m the one who smells?”

He nodded slowly, then his eyes suddenly widened, “Oh, perhaps I have missed a key piece of the Volcano dragon ritual,” He pushed himself up, then full out sprinted back to his den. His armour clanked with every step, and you gaped at the madman. What the hell?

He came back seconds later with a giant pile of freshly tanned hides. You hadn’t ever realized that they weren’t on the ledge that day. He ran straight to your cave, looking like a child with a stack of books to give back to the library, and you scrambled up to run after him, “Overhaul, no - Overhaul!”

He was already laying them out, creating an even larger bed of them. You gaped, “No no no no no, Overhaul, that’s enough - THAT’S ENOUGH!” You shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling it back, “Stop!”

“Stop?” He stood back up, and you let go of his arm, eyes flickering from the floor back to him with a flabbergasted expression, “Are pelts not proper?”

“Not this many, do you plan to sleep in here as a dragon at some point?” You threw your hands up in exasperation, then paused upon his next words.

“Never that, dear human, I would not fit. This is a bed fit for us, do you not agree?” You spluttered in surprise. Instead of calling you “foul human” or “weak human,” he called you dear.

“Us? You plan to sleep here, Overhaul?” Your voice was quieter than you expected. He nodded slowly.

“We must both, you do understand, do you not?” He took a step closer, and you leaned back and scooted your foot back.

That exact moment was when it dawned on you. What reason would you need to leave when he assumed you were his mate? Why would he be so furious with you when you did leave if he assumed you were his mate?

“Overhaul… are you courting me?” You forced some conviction into your voice to try and sound stronger than you felt, but his nod made a shiver go down your spine.

“Yes, (F/N). Did you not do the same when you visited me?” He cocked his head to the side, taking a step closer and forcing you to move back. You swallowed hard, chest tight and palms sweaty. Had this entire ordeal been avoidable if you knew what his kind of dragon’s mating rituals were?

“I, uh, I didn’t know that you thought that was - “ You yelped when he hissed, turning away from you to stare at the pelts.

“Did you not test my loyalty, test my patience, did I not prove myself to be your protector? I have done these things, and you cannot deny it!” His voice grew into a shout, and you quickly rushed forward and grabbed his hands with your own, forcing him to look back down at you.

“I never knew, Overhaul! I am but a human, I understand nothing of your species. If I had, I…” But would you have never picked the flowers?

Back in your village, it was only a matter of time before you were to be arranged a marriage to whoever your brother could buy. That time had been growing closer, and you hated the idea of settling down more than anything - especially with someone you did not know.

“I would still have come,” You gently squeezed his hands, and he glanced down at them and back to you, not understanding what you meant by it, “It’s just a comfort thing,” You whispered in affirmation.

“I need no comfort, I need…” He seethed, “I saw potential in you, not only as a witch, but as a mate. You returned every time I scared you off, you were not swayed. In my species,” He furrowed his eyebrows, then shook his head and replaced it with a blank expression, “You showed infatuation and courage. I desire that deeply, and I wish for you to show that same infatuation for me, I wish for you to bear my children, to witness my power and relish in the destruction of entire moun-”

“Back up - children?” Your stomach dropped. He was serious about that. He nodded, leaning down to your ear. Now at such close proximity and knowing that he wouldn’t injure you, your cheeks flared up. He was trying to court you after all.

“I will make it worth your time, I hear stories of humans searching for dragons to fulfil their deepest des-” Your neck and face were beet red, and you had to pull away with a squeak.

“Too much, Overhaul - Gods, you really do not understand humans,” You hoped he didn’t take your face colour as a signal to continue. Luckily he nodded, eyes flashing with determination.

“I despise most parts of humans, I do not believe I can memorize their mating rituals,” He shrugged, and you shook your head, walking over to the pelts and sitting on the edge of them.

“You don’t need to, I will not infringe on that, but you can at least be kind, right?” You suspected that him changing his mind about you being his mate would only result in your death, but being this for him also means that you could actually live an interesting life with him. Your brother would not need your any longer, and he could live without the debt of a sister now, “You could show affection, yes?”

“I scented you by the fire, I have shown my affection,” He rolled his eyes, and you wagged a finger of disapproval.

“Sit, and you may learn how humans express their… love,” It confused you to use the word, but it was necessary. He killed countless humans, other dragons, and had a knack for being rude, but this left him at a loss for expressing his emotions. If you could understand him, you may just be able to make harmony with the beast.

And so you taught him to hold hands, to kiss, to wrap an arm around your waist, to give a love bite without initiating anything, and to just cuddle and talk. He wasn’t a fast learner.

As it turned out, the horrid smell he had been making was actually just his impersonation of the volcano dragons. It went away over about a day and was replaced by a fresh, shiny metallic smell with hints of lavender. You had casually asked if this meant that you were allowed to venture out of his territory, but you received a firm “Only if I accompany you, I cannot let you be injured.”

Alas, he was growing impatient. He craved more than just that, but with his previous treatment, you were still wary of letting him get close. When he would attach himself to you, eyes flicking across the treetops to see if there was an approaching threat, your heart would skip a beat and you would tense up. It was just reflex, and you hoped with your current arrangement that it would vanish.

He wasn’t willing to wait that long. He knew there must be some way to get closer to you, and he hoped that you would accept that, because soon he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Spring had only just started, so his hormones were spiking with each passing day. He brought you food, he even raided a village far away for an entire day, bringing back many accommodations and decorations.

“Yours? But I… are your sure?” You swallowed hard, peering into the darkness of his cave. You had never been allowed in before, but now he was inviting you. It felt so foreign, and you were afraid of stepping on something and setting him off.

“Worry not, my treasures are yours, dear (F/N),” He nodded, taking a step forward and looking to the wall a little farther in. He left your side, and you didn’t move a muscle until you saw that he had grabbed a torch and lit it, handing it to you, “I have more deeper inside.”

“Of course,” You croaking softly, and followed him close behind. Deeper and deeper, it took a couple minutes to reach an opening. He was emotionless, and upon reaching the opening, he glanced over as a wall. He then dropped low, legs spread and hands around his mouth. You stumbled back while he blew fire at the walls, torches being set ablaze and suddenly lightening up the room. He stood back up in the light, wiping his hands on his tunic before looking at you.

You were taking in the sights, “Wow… I had not expected it to be so clean…” You nodded to yourself in affirmation. The walls were polished off by perpetual habit, likely, and in the back of the room was a pile of golden items and other expensive commodities, some slightly melted down into the rough shape of a dragon’s bed. There wasn’t much else, only a couple pelts lying randomly around the room and a bucket of water by the jewel mess. You turned back to him, and he was simply watching you with crossed arms, “Hmm?”

“You seem to enjoy it. Good. You must know my life as I know yours, (F/N),” He approached you, his hand curling around the back of your head and thumbing strands of hair, “You are mine. That is more than any human could wish for.”

Despite his ramping ego, you nodded and grabbed his hand, gently pulling it down to caress your cheek, “You have lived much longer than me, I could never wish to understand you fully,” You rested your head against his hand, “But, I will try, fierce dragon.”

“When Chronostasis called me Kai,” His pointed ears flicked back once in disgust at his previous mate’s name, “That was the name given to me by the hoards of dragons in the North. I was borne to them, but I decided that my legacy was best served in the presence of those below me.”

You chuckled, “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser?” He raised an eyebrow in question, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. While he hated you insulting him and would growl and turn into a dragon to intimidate you, he was getting used to your playfulness, “Should I call you Kai?”

“Not today,” His hand twitched against your cheek, and you glanced down and back up, “I have made Overhaul my own identity, this is who I am today,” His hand dropped from your face with your own following suit, but he rested it this time around your waist, pulling you closer to him, “(F/N)-”

“Overhaul, we went over this, just…” You shook your head, struggling against his grip.

“Do not hate me, for I adore you,” He cooed, pressing his face and fangs against your neck and shoulders, rubbing his head gently into your own in animalistic affection. You squeaked, heart racing.

But you were not afraid. In this exact moment, that fear of his mighty wrath vanished and was replaced with anxious excitement. Your struggles grew weak, and you were barely pushing against him, “But Overhaul… you’re a dragon, are you sure..?”

He nodded against your skin, then growled against you, shaking your whole body and causing your knees to nearly buckle. You forced yourself to push your head back to look up at him, but immediately regretted it. His eyes were wild, the orange tints flaring up almost like flames. His ears were folded back, and lips twitching and attempting to curl back in raging need. He did not fully resemble a human. Your own eyes widened at the sight.

“We must traverse to your cavern for warmth,” He suddenly mentioned, the fire in his eyes extinguishing for a bit, giving you a second to breathe and gather your thoughts. You nodded slowly, then quicker. He pulled away from you, snorting and shaking his head before pulling you out of his cave. It was fast, and soon you were in your own well-lit cave.

“Are you in your right mind?” You whispered as he departed from you to sit directly on the pelts, staring at you as you quickly grabbed a glass of water before the main event. He shook his head, using his palm to push hair out of his face.

“The heat of spring approaches. No… it has arrived, but I needed your full trust before I could do this,” He grit his teeth, growling once again, “The pain grows evermore.”

“You are in pain? You should have accepted Ch-” He cut you off with a snarl, his face turning metallic and shiny for a second before he pulled back.

“Come, you have taken enough time,” He ordered, and you downed the glass before taking a deep breath.

He was a biter. Gods, he was a biter. After enough tugging at your clothes and fleeting kisses before he would delve back to your jaw, ears, and neck, he was tired with courting. He was out of his clothes in an instant, his body dwarfing your own in sheer size. He was tearing at your own clothes, his sharp nails cutting what he didn’t know how to get off, such as socks.

“You’re mine, human, (F/N),” He purred, nuzzling against your jaw before nipping you ear, causing you to yelp and then melt against him.

“O-Of course,” You whispered back, not thinking very much and instead just feeling. Your hands aimlessly wandered his body, each nook and cranny different than you had anticipated. When his own hands grabbed your breasts, greedily palming them and nipping, your nails dragged across his chest, “Hhh… Overhaul…”

The sounds he made were violently inhuman, such as chirps, guttural groans that resonated through his entire body, hisses, purring, and low growls. They made you squirm and giggle, but it was also insanely hot when your hands travelled below his navel, grazing against his-

Right, two of them, Two members. You hesitantly grabbed the top one, and he cut his hiss off with a, “Don’t push me, I am holding back (F/N),” Your eyes flickered up to his own ravenous, crazed ones, his lips curled back in a snarl.

“Then don’t,” Perhaps you really should have paid attention to him, because the next thing you knew, one of your legs was over his shoulder and your toes were brushing against the spikes that protruded from his backbones while he delved one member into you.

You cried out in surprise, pain and shock taking you over. It was a foreign feeling, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, a sheen of sweat covering his skin. His snarl curled into a wicked smile, and he settled inside of you, “You have no idea what you are dealing with.”

“You might be-” He pulled back, causing you to whimper, and then pushed back in, “Right.” The pain was being massaged out slowly as he started at a leisurely pace, still holding back from showing his true nature. You could tell by the focused look in his eyes despite his face being distorted in dominant pleasure.

He only nodded, continuing to pick up the pace minute by minute. He was enjoying it, purrs of affection resonating from him and around the cave as his hair began to bounce with the pace. He wasn’t nearly started, though. As your tightness melted away and hot, white pleasure spread, he slowed down, causing you to whine and detach yourself from his shoulders, pawing at his chest and collar bones, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Shh,” He demanded, but you continued to whine, “I must prepare you for more.”

“How?” You mused, a delusional smile plastered across your face. He shook his head, one hand playing with your hair while the other gripped a pelt, holding himself up enough not to crush your body.

“You can take it, I promise,” His thumb caressed your cheek, and you glanced down as he instead reached to position his tip at your entrance, the pleasure now easing. You had felt his second member against your butt the entire time, but now that it was present and needed attention, you swallowed hard. That didn’t really seem like it would fit, the first had hurt, could you even manage?

“A-Alright, but will it-?” Instead of answering you, he leaned down to your neck where there was not already a forming hickey, “Nhh…Overhaul, I’m not dra-” He pushed his way in, your insides stretching to accommodate. You whined, your leg over his shoulder now digging into his back while your nails sunk into his chest. He didn’t let either you adjust this time, instead he stayed slow.

The entire time, he kept your focus on the pain of his bite, and you thanked him for that later. It was hard to not focus on the stretching, the inevitable bit of blood of a virgin, and that sweet pleasure ramming its way back ten fold. Once you stopped mumbling curses, he knew that it was time. He could finally release his pent up stress, his anger, his frustrations, his need that had been present since the very beginning.

His nails dug into the furs, piercing them and latching onto the stone underneath as his mouth detached from your neck, simply resting against your shoulder. You felt your heart flutter at the sound, then you gasped in surprise as his pace picked up and he mercilessly had his way with you. It was an overload of sensations, and he showed no signs of slowing down even twenty minutes in. His stamina was phenomenal, and soon your arms grew tired of pawing at him, feeling his muscles, and holding onto his hair. They fell beside your head, and you let him fuck you.

It only took you a few more minutes until the growing tension of sweat, pleasure, and euphoria snapped inside of you, and your back arched as you gasped and grabbed his arm, your toes curling as you gnashed your teeth. The damned monster purred, low and guttural, and your panting only drove him on.

Each thrust went as deep as he could go, and he didn’t slow down for your intense orgasm, nor any of them after the first. He did, though, pull back to observe your face, his lips stained with blood from your neck and hair messy. His slotted pupils watched your every move, and albeit the embarrassment of your occasional gasp, whine, squeak, and wince of pleasure when he hit just the right spot, you liked seeing him let go.

His version of letting go also meant that the next morning was not your day to make breakfast, though, and he knew it.

2K notes · View notes

shijiujun · 5 years ago

Note

Hsiao Hao-Ting’s sexuality was always portrayed by that toxic bl trope of default heterosexuality, where the male lead will only fall for one (1) chosen man in his lifetime. No-one can replace Yu Shigu but only a girl could try? That is absolute bs and aggressively queerphobic misrepresentation of bi/pansexuality. Of course he reverts right back to dating a girl, succumbing to his homophobic parents’/society’s pressure even though Yu Shigu is the love of his life and he’s clearly not over him.

Even worse, they just Had to rub it in with his parents immediately accepting some random girl, begging him to marry her, although he and they hardly know her, when they barely came close to accepting Yu Shigu. His father might as well have applauded his death ffs. Is this really the kind of representation Asian lgbtq+ people deserve in one of the few Taiwanese shows imo, which has done them justice by not resorting to heteronormativity, fetishization, self-denial and homophobic tragedy?

(History 3: Trapped was one of the best bl shows, srsly) Although, I was most appalled by the scenes where Hsiao Hao-Ting talked to the memory of Yu Shigu. Instead of reminiscing their undying love Yu Shigu acts as if he doesn’t even remember it? Only talks about Hsiao Hao-Ting’s new freaking girlfriend and expresses his jealousy, not of the girl as would be logical, but of his widowed bf, because suddenly he has reverted to being straight as well and can’t think of anything but dating a girl?!!

(k, now I’ve been informed that he’s a doppelganger and that’s so dumbfoundingly stupid that I’m going to have to interpretively express my discontent through the means of projectile vomiting). Like how is it even possible to jump from an unapologetic romance between men to such compulsory heterosexuality, such peak heteronormativity that you decide to trash on the entire existence of the meant-to-be gay love story you spent 18 episodes building?

Sorry for spamming your inbox with discourse™, but I wish I never watched the car crash (pun intended) of the last episodes that unsubtly validate heterosexuality as the benevolent default which entails no drawbacks. Lmao they were just short of showing Xiang (sorry for misspelling earlier) Hao-Ting happy again with a wife and 3 kids. My already bitter gay self cannot accept our love literally getting run over even in the shows, which are supposedly created to celebrate it.

—————

Hi anon! Sorry for the super late reply, I read it all when you sent the ask, but I figured I’d put the asks in one reply instead and needed my laptop to do that, so now that I’m back from Taipei, I can do this! Hahaha

Don’t worry, your discourse is excellent and I suppose we all had that ‘let me write a 5000 word essay on how wrong this entire episode was’ because it honestly was some sort of mind fuckery. I’m glad they didn’t show Hao Ting with a happy family and that would have been very uncharacteristic of him considering how hung up he is over Xi Gu.

After reading the last few chapters of the novel, honestly Hao Ting has some sort of PTSD over Xi Gu’s death and I’m really not surprised. He’s so afraid and so depressed and he keeps reliving that moment over and over six years later…

I think the author of the novel wrote the alternative ending because he/she decided that the actual ending was a bullshit ending and he/she better write one happy one that actually fucking makes sense!!! And I think that ending was a hell lot better - the part about ‘making your days count’ came through even in a happy ending, and made so much more sense, and fitted the entire line of the story much better. but no we got some half assed plagiarised shit where hao ting and xi gu don’t get their happy ending.

#history3: modc #asks

14 notes · View notes

cate-geo · 6 years ago

Text

Camp Pining Gays

(This has nothing to do with camp, or Steven Universe, or Camp Pining Hearts...but it does have something to do with gays who are pining so GOOD ENOUGH)

(Romantic Moxiety College AU with background Logince, and Platonic Prinxiety, Royality, Analogical, and Logicality.)

(Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of food, some suggestive teasing. Tell me if there’s any more.)

(Tags: @ab-artist, @vigilantprotector)

Words: 3,634 (oof, I don’t usually write that much)

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

“Mr. Storm!” Virgil snapped back into reality. Damn it.

“Yeah, Prof.”

“Honestly if you’re going to listen to music during my lecture you could at least pretend to hide it. Instead of wearing obvious headphones.”

Virgil rolled his eyes “Why bother with the stress of trying not to get caught? It’s just easier to tell the truth.”

“Please, just try to pay attention.”

Virgil nodded and completely zoned out the professor the second they weren’t giving him any attention. He fucking knew he shouldn’t have gone to class today. No, wait. He had to turn in the essay. Fuck, why couldn’t he just do that electronically?

The rest of the class was so grueling. He wanted so badly to put his headphones back on, but the idea of being called out again made him want to vomit. God he just wanted to go back to bed, but leaving early would just bring attention to him. At least it was his last class of the day.

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

The second the Professor started saying “Alright, I think that’s all for today.” Virgil was out the door in a flash. All earlier hopes of studying in the library were crushed by his need to hide under his blankets. He tried to convince himself that he would study in his room, but he was most likely just gonna pass out.

He walked into his apartment to find his roommate. It wasn’t that he hated Roman, but he really wanted to be alone right now. Luckily Roman seemed to notice.

“Hey bud. Tough day?”

“Yep.” Virgil plopped his bag down and kicked off his shoes before climbing into bed.

“Gonna take a nap?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t worry. I was just about to head out. Gotta rehearse with Patton.”

Virgil immediately shot up “What?” He cleared his throat “Who?” Was he fantasizing again?

“Patton. He’s in my drama class this semester. Sweet kid.”

“He works at the library, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Roman stopped, and Virgil dreaded the gleam growing in his eyes “You know him?”

“I’ve seen him around.”

Roman leaned in close, trying to read Virgil, who was trying to be as unreadable as possible. “Do you like him?” “I don’t just get a crush on every cute guy I see like you do.”

“It doesn’t have to be every cute guy. Just one cute guy.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and hid his head under the covers “I’m napping.”

“Alright alright. I’ll do you a favor and try to get his sexual orientation.”

“Whatever.” Virgil sighed in relief when the door finally opened and closed.

Then he shot up.

“Wait no! Don’t fucking do that!” Roman was not subtle at all. God, Virgil was so glad he wasn’t actually gonna be present for that conversation. Although his imagination wasn’t much better. He groaned and shut his eyes tight. Trying to let sleep overtake him.

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

Virgil didn’t really remember falling asleep, but he must have since he was waking up now and it was dark outside. He looked around and noticed Roman wasn’t back yet. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He should probably make dinner.

He pondered whether or not he should make Roman some food too. Maybe he could poison it for the stunt Roman was trying to pull. Before he could decide though, he heard the door open.

“Heeeeey Virgil~”

“Hey Roman. How was rehea-”

Roman had the hugest shit-eating grin on his face, and coming in behind him was Patton.

Yep. Virgil was definitely gonna poison Roman’s food.

Virgil didn’t know if he should yell at Roman or try to make a good impression. Although, it wasn’t as if he was capable of speech at the moment.

“Hi. Sorry to intrude. Roman said he just needed to grab something real quick. Then we’ll head out.”

“Yeah. We were gonna get something to eat. Wanna join us?” Roman was still grinning.

God Virgil wished he had the idea to make dinner 60 seconds earlier. Then he would have an excuse. “I uh...don’t want to interrupt any rehearsing.”

“Oh, it would be good to have a test audience” Roman wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder, his eyes telling him that he wasn’t getting out of this one, so he should just tag along.

“Yeah. It could really help to have a fresh set of eyes. You should come.”

Patton was asking Virgil to dinner. Ok so...it wasn’t exactly how he imagined it. But he was too lovestruck to stop himself from saying yes.

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

Despite the fear in Virgil’s chest, the dinner wasn’t so bad. The skit they were doing was cute. And it definitely helped with payback giving Roman so much constructive criticism.

Although Roman retaliated quickly. “Oh wow. Sorry. Cute guy alert. Gotta get his number. Be back in a jiff.”

Virgil tried to say ‘Don’t you fucking dare leave me’ with his eyes, but Roman was already gone.

“Wow. I could never ask for a random guy’s number.”

“Yeah. That’s Roman. Extra in absolutely everything he does.” Virgil stared at his drink “Uh...so you work at the library, right?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve seen you around.”

Virgil felt his heart beat faster. Patton noticed him. “Yeah well, it’s a good place to study.” God, why was this so awkward?

“Mhm.” Patton must be finding it awkward too “Roman mentioned you two have Disney movie nights on Saturdays. That must be so much fun.”

“Uh...yeah. When he doesn’t have a date. Which is actually pretty often despite the amount of guys he hits on. Do you want to join us this weekend?” shitshitshit. Did that just come out of his mouth? Shit.

“Wait really?”

“Sorry. That sounds creepy. You hardly know me-us...and I’m inviting you to our apartment at night and-”

“No that sounds nice actually. I just don’t want to intrude on you two.”

“It’s no intrusion. It’s mostly just Roman singing along. It’d be nice to mix things up a bit.” Mix things up a bit? Mixing things up a bit made Virgil panic. So did inviting a cute boy to his place. What the fuck did Roman do to him?

Speak of the devil, Roman sat back down with them, slapping down a piece of paper with numbers scrawled on it “Boom. That’s how you do it.”

Virgil looked down at his lap “Uh...is it cool if Patton joins us for Disney night?” He wasn’t looking at him, but he could feel Roman’s eyes get bigger

“Of course. The more the merrier. We can make it a pajama party.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Patton had the biggest smile.

Virgil nodded, ready to die.

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

Virgil wasn’t going to get super dressed up. It was a pajama party after all, not like he could wear a suit or makeup. Well, any more makeup than his usual eye shadow. But....he didn’t want to smell bad or anything.

“Virge that is the fifth time you’ve brushed your teeth. Are you planning on kissing him?”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, well I’m your wingman, whether you like it or not.”

“Well you suck at it. You never did find out his orientation.”

“Oh. He’s pan.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He has a pan pin on his backpack, I thought you saw it, with how much you stare at him.”

“I don’t stare at him!”

“Yeah, ok”

“I just zone out. It’s a thousand-yard stare. It’s not about who I’m looking at. It just happens.”

“So you can fantasize about him.”

“I am going to stab you with your own sword.”

“So this is a really bad time to tell you I have a date with the guy from the restaurant tonight and I’ll be joining you two later, huh?”

Virgil just noticed how gussied up Roman was. “What? You’re gonna leave me alone with him in the apartment.”

“Hey, you’re the one who invited him here.”

“Roman, please. I beg of you. It was so awkward when you left us.”

“You’ll be watching movies. You don’t have to make small talk. And it couldn’t have been that awkward. You literally asked him on a date.”

Virgil groaned but couldn’t say anything else because there was a knock on the door. Roman placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Don’t stress out too much. Patton is a sweet little puffball. He’ll understand if you’re a bit anxious.”

Virgil sighed and went into his room as Roman answered the door. Part of him wanted to lock himself in there forever, but he couldn’t just leave Patton all alone. So he grabbed his blanket and some pillows before walking into the living room and freezing.

Footie pajamas.

Cat footie pajamas.

Fuck he’s adorable.

It kinda made Virgil feel dull just wearing a plain black t-shirt, plain black sweatpants, and his usual hoodie. His hoodie wasn’t exactly dull, but he always wore it so the shock factor was gone.

“Hey, Virgil! Roman just told me he’s gotta head out. It’s a bit of a shame. But we’ll have fun together.”

“Uh yeah. Romeo here can’t turn off his charm for one night.”

“It’s a gift and a curse. I’ll be back late, so have fun you two. As much fun as you want.” Roman winked at Virgil and immediately got a pillow to the face.

“Ugh you’re just as bad as your brother.”

Roman clutched his chest in mock hurt before wiggling his fingers goodbye and walking out the door.

Virgil picked up the pillow he tossed and dropped everything in front of the tv. “Go ahead and choose the first movie. You want popcorn?”

“Yes please.”

Virgil stared at the microwave as the popcorn popped. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Sure he was so close to vomiting, but...it could actually be nice.

He poured the popcorn into the biggest bowl he could find and walked back to find Patton had picked Winnie the Pooh. “Heh. Cute.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” He placed the bowl in-between them and hit play.

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

It was actually a really nice time. Although Virgil put a ton of attention into not accidentally grazing Patton’s fingers in the popcorn bowl. He wanted to. But he knew if he did he would immediately die, and that might dampen the mood a bit. So Virgil was honestly relieved when the popcorn was gone.

Except his relief was short-lived, because Patton had moved the bowl out of the way and now there was nothing in-between them and they were under the same blanket and worrying about finger grazes was a lot less stressful than worrying about cuddling up to each other.

Besides that, it was nice.

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

After a few movies, Virgil noticed Patton’s head bobbing and his eyes drooping. He really was the cutest thing in the world, wasn’t he?

He was trying not to stare, but he probably should have because the next thing he knew, Patton had fallen asleep. On. His. LAP! And Virgil was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating.

What was the normal person response? He didn’t want to wake Patton by moving him. So he tried to play it cool and slowly ran his fingers through his hair. It was so soft. God, why was everything about him so soft?

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

A few hours later he heard the door open.

“Awwwww.”

“Shut it.” Virgil hissed.

Patton rubbed his eyes “Oh hey Roman. You’re back. How was your date?”

“Magical~ How was your…” Virgil glared at him “Night.”

“Pretty chill. I guess I kinda passed out. Sorry for falling asleep on you Virgil.”

“Nah it’s fine.”

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

The three of them were able to watch a movie and get into about a third of another one before Roman and Patton fell asleep.

Virgil felt his eyes getting heavy so he turned off the tv and curled up in the blanket before drifting off.

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

Virgil opened his eyes to a face full of hair. He didn’t remember cuddling up to Patton, but he must have.

He smiled and pulled Patton closer, nuzzling his nose into the back of his neck, hearing giggles coming from Patton.

“Morning Virgil.”

“Mmmm. Morning Pat.” He started pressing soft kisses on Patton’s shoulder blade, relishing in how he could see his blush reach the tips of his ears.

And then he woke up for real.

Virgil looked around. Patton wasn’t anywhere near. He wasn’t even on the ground anymore. This made Virgill sit up with a start. Where was he? Was he hurt? Did he get kidnapped? Did he-

The smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen and the sound of two voices chatting calmed him down. He found his phone and saw it was just after 10. He wasn’t usually up this early on the weekends. Unless he stayed up this late.

Virgil stretched and got up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Oh! Good morning Virgil. I’m almost done making breakfast.”

“Isn’t he great Virge? Real husband material if you ask me.” Roman grinned knowing he deserved the punch in the arm.

“You two should take a seat. It’ll be done any second now.”

Roman obliged, but Virgil stayed. Staring at Patton cooking, he imagined wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his chin on his shoulder.

Patton turned around “Oh kiddo. Did you need something?”

“I can...uh...help.”

“Aw. Thank you. Here. This is yours and this is Roman’s.” Patton handed him two plates before turning back to the stove.

Virgil nodded and brought out the plates to a grinning Roman “What?”

“Just a nice save is all”

“Maybe be snarky after I’m not holding your food.”

“Ok ok ok.” Roman grabbed his plate “Still a nice save.”

Virgil growled and sat down.

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

A few months had passed. Patton and Roman had kept pairing up for scenes, and Roman kept insisting to Virgil it was because they had become friends and had nothing at all to do with the fact that he was the ultimate wingman.

Roman’s date started hanging around more and more. Virgil learned his name was Logan, and he had started to really like his presence.

Virgil liked Roman and he was in love with Patton, but...they were really easily excitable and rambunctious. And when Virgil got overloaded, it was nice to find Logan in a different room just quietly reading a book. It was calming. To hang out with someone without needing to do anything. Allowed to listen to his headphones and just...be.

Logan was also a giant nerd, which comes in real handy with finals just around the corner.

Virgil also couldn’t help but notice how happy he made Roman. He had noticed that Roman’s flirty eyes had turned to more loving with stars in them every time he looked at Logan. It was really nice to see his friend in love and happy. He also finally had some retaliation to every single time Roman teased him about his crush on Patton. Although it didn’t hit as hard because Roman wasn’t keeping any of his feelings a secret.

Speaking of which, Virgil was still too nervous to ask Patton out. Still would fantasize about him. And still felt this weird feeling in his stomach whenever they hung out. Besides all that, the two of them had actually become close friends. Patton would always greet him with a hug, and Virgil wasn’t always the hugging type, but Patton was soft and warm and felt safe and always smells like vanilla, so he was the one exception.

Many nights the two of them had stayed up late talking. Virgil started to trust him, and tell him about all of his anxieties. Except for the ones that involved his crush of course. And the night that Patton told him that he usually bottles up his feelings and tries so hard to be happy even when he isn’t, Virgil almost felt honored with how much Patton trusted him back. It was also really nice to pull Patton into his lap and let him cry in his chest.Virgil hated himself for liking this when Pattion was so upset. But they were so close...it was nice. Despite the topic.

Then one night, Patton told Virgil that he had a crush on somebody and Virgil felt his heart crack into two pieces.

He knew he should have made a move sooner.

“That’s great Pat.”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you had any advice on how to ask them out.”

“Uh...Roman’s usually better at the whole love advice thing. You should ask him.”

“I did, but I’m pretty sure this person wouldn’t want the big romantic extravaganza Roman suggested. I also don’t have the money to rent a hot air balloon.” Vigil snorted “I wanna keep it simple. Like how would you want to be asked out?”

There was no way Patton could have known, but that hurt just as much as finding out about his crush. Having to tell Patton all the fantasies Virgil has had about him, without being able to make them come true. “Uh...I guess I just want to be asked to hang out. Well, not just hang out. Knowing my anxieties, I wouldn’t know if it was a romantic or a platonic thing. I would want you...or well...one...to actually say the words “as a romantic date”. No room for confusion, you know?”

“Got it. Just straight to the point. Thanks, Virgil!”

“Yeah, no problem.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------There was no way Virgil could sleep that night. He looked at Patton laying on his chest and despite how much it stung that he liked somebody else, this wasn’t so bad. Patton was his best friend. He was a great best friend. Crushes come and go. Maybe one day he would stop fantasizing about kissing him and he would be perfectly happy with the relationship they had.

Maybe.

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

“Hey Virge, you haven’t talked all day. Something bugging you?” Roman leaned against Virgil and got shoved off.

“I’m fine.”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“You already know.”

“What do I already know?”

“About Patton’s…” Nope, he was not about to cry “About Patton’s crush”

Roman gasped “He told you?” Why did he sound so excited?

“Yeah. He told me about his crush and wanted more chill advice than what you gave him and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Roman blinked “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s fine. Patton’s a good friend. I’ll get over him. Eventually.”

Roman sighed deeply and muttered something under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Don’t worry. I promise I’ll fix this.”

“No. Don’t interfere. He has his own feelings and emotions and is his own person. He likes someone else. It’s not his fault I’m too much of a coward to ask him out.”

“Virge-”

“It’s fine. I have class.”

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

Virgil came back from class to see Patton in his apartment talking with Roman. This wasn’t all that surprising, but it still stung. And the fact Patton didn’t hug him was worrisome.

“Ah. You’re home.” Roman crossed his arms “Go on”

“What are you talking about?”

“Heh. I think he means me kiddo…”

“Huh”

“Well...I didn’t really want to put you on the spot with Roman’s suggestion, and when I asked Logan for advice, he told me I should get some information from the source. So I wanted to gather information and then ask you when the time was right. But your advice was literally to be direct, and this was completely not that. But I panicked and didn’t know how you felt. Roman was just telling me how I should have just confessed then and there and that I was making your anxiety worse…and I’m really sorry.”

“What?”

“Oh...uh...my crush is...you Virgil.”

Dreaming. He was dreaming. Daydreaming? Fantasizing? In a coma?

“Ah. Fucking finally!” Roman shouted “Do you know how stressful it’s been keeping both of your secrets for this long?”

Holy shit. This was reality.

“You like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Months of just watching you two together but not together.” Roman collapsed on the couch “It was probably more emotionally draining for me than for the two of you combined.”

“I like you too.”

“Eeee” Patton pounced onto Virgil and hugged him tightly.

Virgil staggered a bit but was able to keep them both up, holding Patton tight.

“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss”

“Roman, can you shut the fuck up for 5 seconds of your life?”

“Come on you know you want to.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and landed them on Patton “Uh...is it...o...k?”

“Mhm. Very much so.”

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

Holy shit. This time it really did happen.

“Aw. You guys are adorable.”

Virgil flipped Roman off “I’m not adorable”

“Yeah ok, buddy” Roman suddenly gasped making Virgil jump “We should have a double date!”

Patton squealed “YES!” He dragged Virgil over to the couch and he and Roman started prattling on about where they would go.

Usually, Virgil would leave when the two got this excited, but he was kind of excited too. In his own chill and calmer way. Besides, he had a boyfriend now. And it was really nice to finally wrap an arm around his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek while he was talking instead of just fantasizing about it.

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

Later that night, Patton was sleeping on Virgil’s chest, and Virgil was too excited to sleep. He leaned down and kissed the top of Patton’s head and heard a giggle.

“You aren’t sleeping.”

“I can’t. Too happy.”

Virgil hid his blush, despite it being dark.

“Yeah...me too.”

#moxiety #logince #platonic royality #platonic prinxiety #platonic analogical #platonic logicality #Virgil sanders #Patton sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #college au #sanders sides

79 notes · View notes

williamsockner · 7 years ago

Text

LGBT+ Identity in the Time of Mindless Self Indulgence

Mindless Self Indulgence isn’t an act that could have flourished at any other time. The emo/pop punk wave was gathering steam; hip hop was still a novelty one could distinguish themselves from the flock by cribbing. “Random” Invader Zim-style humor was in the decline, while “edgy” no-limits humor was skyrocketing. Nerds hadn’t become the dominant force they are today, but due to the internet and the rise in manga and anime sales in the United States, they were able to access nerdy content much more easily. Youtube was taking off, music piracy was booming, and reliance on both radio and local record-store gatekeepers was at a low for young music fans.

Perhaps most critically, our national understanding of politics and identity at the time, particularly LGBT+ identities, was in a different stage of development than it is today. “Punching up” vs. “punching down” was not a concept that most people considered in their comedy. “It’s just a joke” was more widely accepted as an excuse for transgressive entertainment than it is today. “I’m an equal opportunity hater” was a common refrain.

Early in their career, the band released multiple tracks where Jimmy Urine, a man who was certainly not black, used the n-word. The “Pantyshot” cassingle was a treasured possession among MSI fans, featuring an early song that supposedly lost them a record deal due to being about lusting over a 5 year-old. Little Jimmy Urine sold kisses for a dollar to fans after shows, including to the teenagers. As a whole, the band made punchlines of racial and sexual slurs, rape and child abuse, school shootings, prostitution, drug use, incest, and just about every other taboo under the sun.

The understanding was that none of it was real and that none of it had any real consequences. Calling someone a faggot didn’t matter if we were all in on the joke, that homophobia was stupid. Words were just words. The identity of the speaker didn’t matter so long as their ideology was clear. It was something of an inversion of the way we publicly navigate comedy now, in that their identity determines where on the ladder they are to punch up or down, and the contents of their ideology is of minimal consequence compared to the text of their words. The context of a joke is not a matter of what the audience believes, but of the many complexities of hierarchy that society as a whole believes.

“Who cares?” asks 2008. “It’s just words.”

“How could it not matter?” answers 2018. “Words create culture.”

So LGBT+ identity in the era of Mindless Self Indulgence.

Describing the difference between 2005 and 2018 to young queer people is a source of anxiety for me, because I feel like the old woman talking about how she walked uphill both ways to the library if she wanted to read a book. It’s difficult, however, to put in perspective how quickly the culture around LGBT+ identities has changed. As dangerous as it is for queer kids today, they have much freer access to information about their resources and history than we did, and far greater representation in all forms of media.

When I was a teenager, I was the first person openly LGBT at my school, and my only point of reference for LGBT identities were Rosie O’Donnell and Elton John. There was no “Born This Way” yet, no Halsey and Hayley Kiyoko and Ellen Page, no Troye Sivan and Adam Lambert and Frank Ocean, no Miley Cyrus, no Laverne Cox. There were no empowerment ballads.

Which was fine, because I didn’t want empowerment ballads anyway. I felt disgusting. In reckoning with my LGBT+ identity, I felt small, broken, repulsive, confused, discarded and doomed. I was sickened in my own skin and filled with self-loathing because of my sexual orientation. Sometimes I still am. When I was 15, I drew a map of my heart, and in between the “fields of sexual insecurity” and “possibly irreparable damage” I had written “guilt!” several times and underlined it.

“You’re beautiful” didn’t only feel false, it felt invalidating. I was fiercely defensive of my self-hatred. I was working so hard at it, spending so much time and energy convincing myself I deserved the beating I was giving myself. To this day the barriers I’ve put up against generic bromides persist, and songs like “Scars to Your Beautiful” or “Roar” make me cringe. Maybe someone gets something out of them, but I can only think of the teenagers like me who used that sort of sentiment as fuel for their own self-abuse. I remember once bursting into tears at a “Jesus Loves You” sticker because it served as proof that the whole world was playing a joke on me, telling me that someone so unlovable should have some hope.

It was impossible to internalize that queerness was not dirty, unnatural and loathsome. Any attempt to break that association was drown out by the rest of the messaging we were receiving and our own tried-and-true mental gymnastics. Reassurance could not reach us at the bottom of the well.

At the time, I was obsessed with Mindless Self Indulgence with the kind of all-consuming adoration that only teenagers can possess. I aped frontman Little Jimmy Urine’s fashion, writing slogans across my coats with white tape. “What Do They Know” and “Cocaine and Toupees” were my ringtones, much to my mother’s chagrin. I had catalogues of bootlegs, lovingly sorted and pressed to CD. Mindless Self Indulgence populated my artwork, both in classroom doodles and in art pieces for my portfolio that I labored on for weeks. They were the subject of my college application essay. I met my first love on an MSI forum (which I moderated) and lost a few romantic relationships over my inability to talk about anything else. I owned every shirt. When I was hired on at Barnes & Noble’s music section, I would nominate Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy for the staff recommendation shelf every single week, and whenever it inevitably got recalled to the warehouse for lack of sales, I’d order it right back.

Sometimes my friends and I would go to the mall parking lot at night and blast Mindless Self Indulgence from my car, dancing around the empty lot with our striped stockings, fingerless gloves and Hot Topic trip pants.

This band kept me from killing myself.

“I’m filthy, disgusting, horrible, irredeemable,” we’d say. “People tell us we’re beautiful and we know they’re lying. I’m a freak.”

“Yeah, you’re fucking ugly,” the music said. “So what? So’s everything else. Have some fun with it.”

Despite the fact that Jimmy Urine has never publicly labeled himself with an LGBT identity, we young LGBT MSI fans claimed him as our own. We enshrined the article where he described being sexually attracted to anyone regardless of gender. We imitated and revered his gender fuckery onstage, the skirts, the pink suits and tutus, the eyeliner, his yelping falsetto leaping up from the masculine shouting, the way he danced. We pored over lyrics - that we transcribed ourselves in many cases, through multiple listens and endless debate - for those nuggets of same-sex attraction and gender ambiguity.

“I make a good girl but I make a terrible boy,” went one song. “These things in my pants that we’re all waiting for, I never really knew what that thing down there was used for,” went another. And the most sacred text of all was “Faggot”, off Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy, the most beloved record of the vast majority of hardcore MSI fans.

“I played that shit straight / blowing suckas to the side hopin' I get laid / now everybody knows / no way in hell I can ever live it down”.

Shit was a revelation.

Kitty, the drummer of Mindless Self Indulgence, once said of the band’s LGBT fans that listening to MSI’s music was like vomiting: it hurts at the time, but then you feel better. You got it out. And the band always cultivated their relationship with their LGBT fans. Gay marriage was one of the few political issues they openly took a stance on, in a time when states like my own were amending constitutions to protect themselves from Massachusetts’ same-sex marriages.

Thus, we had a place where we felt simultaneously seen and valued by the band, and unseen amongst the chaos surrounding us. The irreverent humor of the band created a safe space where homosexuality could be disgusting, but so was everything else. There was no shame at an MSI concert. You were listening to a man famed for drinking his own urine sing about whipping his meat out, who cared if you liked to kiss girls? That’s old news. We’re all freaks down here at the bottom of the well.

I’m 28 now, and I don’t know if the kids these days have an equivalent band. I don’t know if there’s a market for it anymore; I’m sure there will always be queer kids who have internalized the awful message that they are inherently unlovable, but I’m not sure if they can’t find more accessible and more inherently positive panaceas. I see mutations of the same style of humor in Willam from RuPaul’s Drag Race and in some of the undercurrents of Tumblr’s teen humor. “We’re goblins, trash, garbage babies.”

“Yeah,” my inner child says. “I fucking feel that.”

The paradigm of humor has changed since 2008, at least in my circles, and the reasons for that are manifold, political, social, capitalistic. In many ways, it’s been a good thing: bigotry can be exposed rather than cloaked in excuses. A basic understanding of social inequality is presumed of most audiences. People are responsible for the impact of their words, not the intent. “Equal opportunity hater” is seem for what it is: intellectually lazy and blinkered, the refuge of white guys who don’t want to own up to the fact that some jokes aren’t funny.

But I’ll always have a place in my heart for comedy that meets people where they’re at. Where we’re at isn’t always beautiful or acceptable or healthy, but sometimes it’s the place where we need the laugh most.

#music #personal #lgbt stuff #humor #mindless self indulgence #jimmy urine #sorry guys i can't figure out how to text break

1K notes · View notes

vin-studies · 7 years ago

Text

ok guys. these past two years were HELL so here are some NO BULLSHIT TIPS that i wish i could tell my 16 year old self when i first started IB

ENGLISH AND BIO ARE NOT ‘EASY' HLS. Biology HL has an extensive syllabus and the marking criteria for English HL are very high! Properly look into your universities’ requirements - make sure to contact them and ask if they will accept the subjects you’re planning to take for the course you are applying for. (For example, some medicine courses in some universities don’t even require biology but they expect you to take chemistry, physics and maths HL). No HL is an ‘easy HL’ so make sure you choose something that you need or are interested. Note: to prospective/new students, IB requires a minimum of a total of 12 marks from your 3 HLs in order to pass the diploma program.

FINISH CAS ASAP Those CAS projects may look good on your uni applications and CVs but writing reflections and uploading evidence is a pain in the ass. I made the mistake of uploading everything at the last moment and in consequence, I had lost some of the pictures that I had collected as evidence and didn’t have time to request for certificates for some of my activities. Upload everything as soon as you get done with a particular activity - if you’re volunteering, training, coaching, competing, interning: don’t forget to collect certifications / evidence from the coordinators/coaches/parents that you have finished the said number of hours. Get CAS out of sight out of mind as soon as possible (collecting as much CAS as possible during your first year of IB is also beneficial for students who plan to apply to universities that have applications due early).

TOK IS A WASTE OF TIME I know this, you know this, even your TOK teachers know it. But it has to be done - so make things easier on yourself.

TOK PRESENTATION: First, choose a topic that you genuinely enjoy and know a lot about - a topic that you can talk about from the top of your head. This will help you while doing the actual presentation so that you feel more comfortable relaying your ideas and so it does’t end up becoming 10 minutes of you just saying words that you memorised. Your teacher and people online might say that having a partner will make the presentation easier, but in reality this depends on your subject. If your subject is vast, take a partner so the information can be shared amongst the 20 minutes that you have. If your topic is not as vast or does not have a lot of information, don’t take a partner. It may be a little scary to do it on your own but at the end of the day, 10 minutes of quality TOK material is better than 20 minutes of added information and irrelevant points just so you can reach the time limit.

TOK ESSAY: Essay titles are released in the early months of your second year - your TOK teachers will most likely discuss each and every title in class so that you have a better understanding of what they’re talking about. Here’s the secret to the TOK Essay: PICK THE EASIEST ONE. No examiner is going to give you extra marks because you picked a harder title over an easier title - its about the way you present the answer. Choose the title that you understand the most because if you understand it, the way you’ll write your essay will be clear and chances are, the examiner will understand it too. Choosing a title that you’re not familiar with, just because it looks impressive, will send you down a spiralling staircase of pretentious word vomit. In class, when we were looking through sample high scoring TOK essays, most of them were simple and easy to understand. Most of these high scoring essays depended on examples and real-life situations to explain their claims and counterclaims. Your TOK essay does not need to be a philosophical monologue!!

EXTENDED ESSAY: The daunting 4000 words that has every new IB student quaking in their pants. The biggest tip I can give you is this: DON’T TRY TO CHALLENGE YOURSELF BY PICKING A DIFFICULT SUBJECT. IF YOU DO NOT PASS YOUR EXTENDED ESSAY, YOU DO NOT GET YOUR DIPLOMA. YOUR UNIVERSITY DOES NOT CARE ABOUT NOR DO THEY CHECK THE SUBJECT YOU DO YOUR EE ON. There are obviously easier EE subjects that you will be able to score high marks in like: LanguageB, Business Management, etc. Now, you might say that any subject is easy if you enjoy it - sure, that may be true but that doesn’t change the fact that some subjects have higher standards and harder criteria: Physics, Chemistry, Maths HL. New students, don’t freak out about writing 4000 words - in reality, once you start writing your EE, you’ll find that you’ve exceeded your limit and you’ll be stuck trying to figure out how to cut it so it doesn’t affect the quality of your work.

DON’T BE EMBARRASSED ABOUT TAKING ESS OR MATH STUDIES. Anyone who makes fun of ESS and Math Studies students, stop it, its gross. If your university does not need Maths Standard/Higher level, don’t feel like you need to take them. If you find SL difficult and you feel you could score higher in Math Studies, take it. At the end of the day 7 in MS is better than a 4 in SL. Commerce students, if your school requires you to take one science, take ESS. Its practical, less time consuming, and genuinely very interesting. The internal assessment difficulty ranges depending on your topic: some need more experiment time than others but overall its significantly less than any other science like Biology or Chemistry or Physics. Its easy scoring, in case your university is looking at your overall score out of 45 rather than your subjects separately. Taking IB is a feat in itself, so making things a little easier for yourself is nothing to be ashamed about. (plus It’ll be you who’ll be laughing once exams arrive and your pg is a 7).

IOC TIPS: annoy the hell out of your teacher - steal them away for practice IOCs whenever you can. the more practice sessions you have, the better you’ll understand what you’re doing right/wrong, the time you reach, and the questions that you might get at the end of your commentary. if your teachers don’t give you the time of day, practice with the help of a friend or even to your own reflection in the mirror - sometimes your points might make sense on paper but not out loud and you’ll never find out which points those are until you’re talking about them. if its possible to opt, try to avoid poets BECAUSE you don’t know which poem you’ll draw on the final IOC recording day and each poem have their own story, writing style, and concepts. extracts from novels and short story collections on the other hand, have the same context, characters, writing style no matter which extract you draw. During your recording, you can connect your extract to other chapters/stories that you have learnt about if it supports the concept you’re talking about - unlike poems that talk about different topics so you cannot.

BM - CUEGIS CONCEPTS & CASE STUDY (P1):

Despite these being two very big parts of the final exams, there are only a few tips I can share.

For CUEGIS, choose an MNC because it’ll be easier for you to find information. Don’t mug up, choose a company you have an interest in. If you did your IA or Extended Essay on an MNC, you probably have some extent of knowledge about the company so use it for your CUEGIS essay. In preparation, just divide what you know and learn about the company into each concept and learn how they affect each other. Write practice essays by picking two random concepts with a random business topic.

For Paper 1, your teacher should discuss the given case study with you and helped your class analyse it. But, you should always go back and read/analyse the case by yourself, with friends, with other business students from other schools to make sure nothing is left untouched. You cannot use past papers because, obviously, their cases were different. So, if your teachers does not make sample exam questions / mock papers, make them for yourself. From simple things like definitions to evaluating decisions using business tools.

last but not least, don’t be afraid to drop ib if you really cannot take it anymore. There will always be universities or colleges that accept your high school diploma. At the end of the day, your mental health is more important that any 45. good luck! - my ask box is always open for anyone who needs tips, guides, resources, notes, or just want to rant with me about IB in general :)

363 notes · View notes

gracieheartspedro · 7 years ago

Text

Stuck With Me (Steve Harrington x Reader) PART 1

HEY! So I guess I’m writing this series now. It’s gonna be great! I will try to update it as much as possible. It’s going to probably be about 4-5 parts. So, enjoy PART 1!

WORDS: 2455

WARNINGS: none?

I’M TAKING REQUESTS!! Ask me, private message, whatever. I write for all the stranger things cast (smut for the older people) and marvel.

PART 2 He walked down the hall like a god. The girls fawned over him, giggling to each other as he strolled by. But instead of doing that, I looked him up and down and rolled my eyes. The word on the street (from what I learned from my only friend in this town so far), Billy Hargrove was bad news and I should stay very very far away.

So I stayed in my lane, grabbing a notebook and some pencils and headed to my first period. Luckily, that only friend, Jonathan Byers, was sitting in there with a girl who I could only assume was his girlfriend. She was standing in front of his desk, swinging his hands.

I met him two days before, when my uncle forced me to meet him and his younger brother, Will, and their mom Joyce. We ate dinner together and he and I bonded over music. He liked the Talking Heads and Pink Floyd which immediately won me over.

“Y/N Hopper has made her debut!” Jonathan says with a smile as I head in his direction. The small girl in front of him smiles genuinely, extending her hand. I drop my bag in the chair in front of them, and shake her hand.

“I’m Nancy Wheeler. Nice to meet you.”

“Wheeler? Are you Mike’s sister?” I question, thinking back to Jane’s boyfriend. Or crush. Or the guy she was obsessed with. Whatever he was, he was all she would talk about.

“I am. Guess Jane told you about him already?” Nancy giggles, twiddling her pencil in between her fingers. She was pretty, very pretty. Her hair short to her shoulders and curled slightly. Her shirt tight to her small frame, and of course, high waisted pants. An odd pick for Jonathan.

I laugh, “He’s a hot topic around the Hopper home.”

The teacher walks in as soon as the bell rang and everyone in the room started to get settled. That was until Billy Hargrove walks in with his small gang. I glance back at Jonathan who looks at Nancy, and we all in sync, roll our eyes. His tight blue jeans and grey shirt clinged to his frame like no other. I don’t know what it was about this boy, but he ignited a fire in me that I couldn’t control. His very appearance made me angry. So when he walks over to me and leans down to meet my eyes, I wanted to vomit on his shoes.

“You’re in my seat sweetheart.” He says smoothly, a curl dropping over his forehead. All his friends smacking their gum and raising hell, giggle behind him. I decide to play along. I glance at the back of the chair and around the desk, looking lost.

“Hm, I don’t see your name anywhere, so I think you’re just making shit up to get on my nerves.” I snap. I hear Nancy gasp a little, and everyone gets quiet. The teacher, at this point, doesn’t even care and is just waiting for someone to start throw fists.

Billy stands over me with a smirk, “Feisty little one. What’s your name?”

“Y/N Hopper.”

“You that Chief Hopper’s other love child?” He asks smartly. Everyone laughs.

“Nah, just his orphaned niece who is annoyed with you already. You should go sit down so I don’t have to smell your cheap Opium and cigarette smoke. It’s flooding my airways.”

I was usually this quick. Letting things slip from my lips was always something I had to be careful with. I didn’t need to be taken in and have my uncle tear me a new ass. Which had yet to happen. Yet.

Billy leaned down, our faces inches apart. I stare into his intense eyes, not flinching.

“You’re lucky you’re hot.”

With that he sat down in the back with his wolfpack, and I could settle my heart rate. No boy had ever called me hot to my face and I instantly felt gross.

Class started and ended quicker than I expected. I didn’t stand up until Jonathan and Nancy got up. Luckily we avoided the Hargrove Gang and exited the room. They both stopped with me at my locker, which is where I was picking up my math book.

“You really got him worked up…” Jonathan mumbled, before Nancy jumped in.

“And it was badass! If that banter continues, I will be excited for English every morning.”

I giggle, grabbing my belongings.

“Yeah, can’t wait to be harassed by him everyday now.” I turn away from my locker, leaving it propped open for a moment, as I adjust the strap on my bag.

Before I could say anything, Nancy and Jonathan turn quickly, their eyes widened by something behind me. I could fucking smell him.

The locker slammed shut and I turn to face him.

“You friends with those losers, baby girl?”

His face was so punchable in that moment, but instead I just pressed myself against the lockers. I pop up my tights-covered leg and cling onto my bag strap.

“Yeah, connected through family and friends.” I say, not making eye contact with him.

“Interesting.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him stare at me like meat, “You’re not like other girls at this school.”

“Fascinating.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl wear a Ratt shirt with mini skirt to school before.” I looked down at my outfit, suddenly feeling self conscious. He wasn’t wrong, most of the girls in Hawkins wore jeans and sweaters or rarely, a crop top, and here I was, wearing a jean jacket with an outfit a city girl at a club would wear.

“Well, I’m glad I could excite you Hawkins boys for the day.” I mumble, pushing my hair to the side and out of my face. I adjust my stance so now I’m standing in front of him, my arms crossed.

“Oh yeah, I bet.” He licks his lips before leaning closer to my face, making me step back a little, “You should watch what you wear. My friends chase after girls like you.”

“Well they should watch where they’re running, because I’ll send them falling on their asses if they come within 10 feet of me.”

“There’s that se-”

“Is he bothering you?” A voice behind me asks. I glance back and see a boy with fluffy hair and soft eyes looking at me.

“Yeah, has been all day.” I mumble, turning back to Billy’s now emotionless face.

“Leave us alone, Harrington. We don’t need to repeat what happened last time we were at odds with each other.” Billy spats, inching closer to me, to get closer to the guy.

“Oh, when your younger sister kicked your ass and I ended up saving the day? Please, let’s repeat that in front of the whole school.” The boy said with an exhausted voice. Billy growled a little, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His chest was close to my face, and I couldn’t lie, boy was toned.

The bell rang and I turned away as Billy made his way down the hall in the opposite direction. The boy still stood in front of me, smiling.

“Sorry, I’m Steve. Heard your Hopper’s niece and wanted to introduce myself.” He says, gesturing to walk beside him.

“Yeah, Hopper is quite well known ain’t he? I didn’t know he would be the hero of the town. He was always my embarrassing uncle who sent me $40 for my birthday.” I stutter a little, my palms getting sweaty. Cool it Y/N, he’s just a boy.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you. and yeah, he’s a pretty cool dude.”

“Uh, yeah, he is.” I mutter awkwardly as we arrive to my classroom.

“Oh sweet, we have the same class!” Steve says excitedly as we both walk into the small classroom. There were less than 10 people in the room all with dazed looks on their faces. I could tell half of them had hit one before class and they were all coming down from highs.

Steve pulled a seat close to his in the back and we chatted until the teacher started talking fractions and we knew we have to pay attention.

“I have an 85% in this class right now so I think it’s pretty easy. I don’t know how bad you are at math though.” Steve whispers, as the teacher, who looked like an old fat Rob Lowe, droned on and on about shit that had nothing to do with the lesson. Eventually, he shut up and let us work on random classwork.

“I am pretty bad at math, but excellent at English,” I explain, watching Steve scribble down numbers. I literally just wanted to watch him. He bit his lip, trying to think of ways to solve one problem and I casually glanced at him, trying not to weird him out.

“We should help each other then. I suck at English but decent at Math.”

“We can be a team!” I exclaim in a purposefully annoying voice, giggling as the rest of the class was quiet.

“I do have an essay due Friday, if you can help me after school?” He asked, looking up at me with his big brown eyes.

“You’ll have to come to my place because I have to be home for Jane. My uncle works until 8 tonight.”

He smiles, “Alright. I’ll give you a ride then.”

Hell yeah you are, Harrington.

The day flew by, which was good because I had constant anxiety I’d run into Billy and he’d say some weird shit to me and I’d feel like I would need to shower.

The dismissal bell rang and I headed to the parking lot. Steve said he’d be one of the last ones out because he had gym last period and he always got caught up, but I could wait outside for him and he’d find me.

Jonathan and Nancy came out holding hands, laughing at something. I smile and wave to them, and they walk in my direction.

“Hey, who’s taking you home?” Jonathan asks, pulling his keys out of his backpack.

“Uh, a friend I made today. He needed help with English an-”

“What’s his name?” Nancy asked a little too quickly.

“Steve.”

“Harrington?”

“That’d be me!” His appearance made me jump and I instantly wanted to curl up and die. He knew we were talking about him.

Jonathan instantly got awkward, dropping Nancy’s hand and balling up his hands. And well, Nancy got quiet.

“Am I missing something?” I whispered, so only they could hear me.

Steve cleared his throat, “Yeah, me and Nance used to date. But it’s cool, she’s with Johnny Boy and I am okay.” He places his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, patting it. Jonathan did nothing to deflect the gesture, just stood there looking at the ground.

“St-”

“It’s okay, Nancy. It’s been months, we are fine.” Steve says politely, smiling down at her.

Please, put a bullet through me, God.

After that, Nancy and Jonathan waved us a goodbye and ran to their car. Most of the other students had already left their spaces, and we were the last to leave. Except for one blue Camaro that sat fairly close to Steve’s BMW. Outside of it, was the none and other, Billy Hargrove with a girl on his hip. She was basically sucking in all his cigarette smoke as he whispered things in her ear. He didn’t see me at first, but when he did he yelled.

“Little Miss Hopper off with the Former King Harrington! Have fun you two! Use protection!”

I wanted to puke, but that surge of confidence ran through my veins, once again.

“Bye Little Willy Billy! Think about my cute outfit during your awful rendezvous tonight!”

I quickly got in Steve’s car and slammed the door, gesturing him to hurry up. He threw his bag in the back and we peeled out of the parking lot.

“You got a lot of balls, Hopper.”

“Bigger than his.”

“Jesus.”

“Little Willy Billy was pretty good, admit it.” I giggle, turning to face Steve as he drove towards town. He laughed a little, before glancing towards me.

“It was, I give you that. It’s even better when you say it. Your accent is cute.”

Cute.

“Us New Yorkers have weird accents. We emphasize things more than you mid-westerners.”

“New York, huh? You near the city?”

“Oh yeah. Bout 15 minutes without traffic. Me and my friends used to go to clubs in the city and tear up the town. Real fun stuff.”

“Really?” His interest was cute.

“No.” I laugh, “I was bout 2 hours from the city and rarely went. My mom hated it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am? It’s not like I don’t come from a long line of smart asses.”

Steve chuckled, “That’s very true.”

“You know me so well already.”

“A day with you is enough to get to know all of you.”

“Well,” I almost stop myself from saying it, but it slips, “Not all of me.”

His laugh was loud and he squinted his eyes when he smiled, “My goodness, I haven’t taken you on a date yet. We shouldn’t be talking about that yet.”

“I have no idea what you’re even talking about, Harrington.”

“Oo, nicknames now?”

“Yeah, you called me Hopper already I needed to call you by your last name, too.”

Steve looked confused, “I called you that?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I didn’t even realize. It just slipped so easily.” He turned to look at me, a single piece of hair falling over his forehead.

I smile, getting closer to him. I push the piece of hair back, taking notice of two small freckles on his cheek. He is getting red, which only made me smile bigger. I turn around to his back seat to explore and calm his nerves a little. In the seat, I see a pair of Ray Bans.

“Rich boy!” I say grabbing them, nudging Steve’s side. I slip them on, before looking at myself in the mirror.

“My parents are rich, I’m not. And I got those for Christmas,” He watches me through the mirror, “And they look better on you!”

“It’s the outfit. I look like one of those girls in a Motley Crue music video.” I push myself up onto my leg and begin to pose a little, shrugging my jacket off and dancing to the hum of the song on the radio.

“A video girl in my car. I did not plan my Monday to be like this.”

“Well take it all in, Harrington. Your new friend is the hottest girl in Hawkins now!” I joke, tilting the frames down to meet his eyes.

“You’re not wrong.”

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut (eventually)#steve harrington x reader #billly hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

269 notes · View notes