#this also isn’t the first time the person who made the call out post has said stuff about me

[on-leatheredwings]

Checkmate

Yandere! Tim Drake / (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, rated M > tw/cw: yandere-typical behaviors (obsession). M rating is for a boner. just some sexual tension. reader is mentioned as bisexual.

> summary: Intellectually, Tim falls fast. Romantically, he falls hard. Seems this time it's both. > a/n: i just wanted to post some tim practice, pls let me know if i did okay. I made him a bit of a fuckboy i guess but ngl i think tim’s just run through af 😭 > word count: 1268

Tim likes you. And knowing himself, soon, he’s going to really like you.

More than anticipated, too. He didn’t think he’d have much of an opinion at all on you, when you had first met on your first day, in your new position as his personal assistant.

Personal assistant. 

At the reveal, he exchanged a hard look with Bruce across the room. Tim Drake had not been slacking on the job. And sometimes he had the eye bags to prove it.

Tim hadn’t even said anything yet, when you chirped, “Think of it as delegation.”

You gave him a pleasant, albeit cheeky look – which he respected. If you had the qualifications and enough charm to impress the hiring manager, who was a notorious hardass in interviews, you were probably fine. Probably more than fine.

Either way, he expected to forget your existence until you texted or called him to remind him about meetings he hadn’t forgotten about.

It turns out, you had… personality. Probably more than you should’ve, working in the professional setting of Wayne Enterprises. You dealt with Tim’s shit (absences, excuses), but gave as good as you got (ultimatums, thinly-veiled blackmail to run and tell Bruce). You were also… very attractive. And clever. And smart. And insightful.

And God, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. And he wonders if he can somehow orchestrate a breakup. 

Tim moves a chess piece across the board. 

Okay, maybe he’s being too hasty. 

Oh, for the love of– you know what? No, he isn’t being too hasty. Anyone working in such close quarters with the heir apparent of Wayne Enterprises is heavily vetted. But it’s about time he did his own background check on you. He has made it three whole months without doing so. 

See, he really is getting over his control issues. Eat that, Stephanie.

Okay, if he’s going to entertain the idea of courting you– Wait, wait, since when was it courting? Yeah, no. He’s merely entertaining the thought of you. He’s been burned too many times now to start courting.

Let’s talk about having sex first before we start talking about dating, he jests with himself.

Anyway. He wonders what would be the most interesting means of going about this. Coming out and confessing would be a little boring. Too easy. His eyes wander to your lips. You’re too focused on making your next move to notice him ogling the soft swell of your chest beneath a sharp button-up. You’ve rolled up the sleeves – very casual for this very casual hangout. You both lounge on your bed, in your bedroom, in your apartment, because if Tim wins, you don’t get to hound him on personally contacting investors. (Sometimes, you gotta leave malcontents out to dry. Make them miss you.)

He hopes you like being experimented with. Or maybe you like experimenting on others. He would do anything you liked because, man, it’s thrilling to know people and their wants. Anything you give, he could take it–

Tim startles as a realization comes to his mind. 

… Him. Taking it.

Is that something he wants? To bottom for you? … Is that something… he wants? 

Yes.

Now that the idea has been conceived, yes, he wants that. So that’s that. 

The reality of whether you’d want to do that… is slim… maybe? You’re bi as well. Maybe that changes things. He’s not going to think about it too hard, because now he’s getting excited.

Tim would love for the skittering, synapses-firing-on-all-cylinders effect in his brain to cool down – for everything to wash over with cool calculation and academic interest. He manages to do that much for even the most intriguing cases. But you… Tim sighs.

And now he’s hard.

Tim shifts uncomfortably. He’s lying on his stomach, held up by his forearms. 

He sighs, even though there’s an evil piece of his brain snickering and taunting, “But you love this, though!” Evil, evil.

At Tim’s increasing silence, you lift a brow. Man, he’s been out of it all game.

“Tim?” He comes back to planet Earth. “It’s your move. Again.” You wear a Cheshire grin. “It’s almost like we’re taking turns, or something.”

He blinks, baby blue eyes clearing up. He shifts in his spot, feeling trills of pleasure from friction against erection. Your sheets. Against his erection. He bites back a smile. Okay, yes, he loves this. He likes hiding like this, right under your nose.

Him getting a boner was a development he had foreseen coming ten minutes ago, once he started daydreaming about you. So he just went ahead and casually switched positions. A risk, but a calculated one. He was pretty sure there’d be no reason for him to get up and expose the tent in his jeans. And boy does he love it when he’s right.

Tim goes to move another piece, when he glances up at you and nearly goes slack-jawed. You don’t meet his eyes. Instead, you wet your lips, seemingly meditating on something.

You meditate on him. After all, Tim is so… pretty. Pretty in a way unlike the rest of his gorgeous brothers. He has pretty eyes framed by dark lashes and a smaller frame, though he’s deceptively muscled under the clean-cut slacks and button ups. He has silky black hair that often falls into his eyes; a defined jaw. And pale skin. He is notably the palest in his family, burning miserably on beach days. It is that pale skin, contrasted so sharply with his dark green tee, that brings your eyes to his collarbones.

Tim nearly erupts.

Fuck, yes. He caught you staring. It takes him self-restraint not to puff out his chest or try to show more skin, lest he reveal his hard-on.

You snap out of it only moments after he notices, grin returning to your face.

“You know if you lose focus like that, I’m going to win,” you tease, almost childlike mischief in your expression. 

Tim so badly wants to parrot the words back at you, but he doesn’t want to scare you into never checking him out ever again. The little inch you just gave him– oh, he intends to take a mile. Whatever small acquiesces you give in the future, he knows he’ll take that and much more.

Now, he’s hungry for you. As soon as this game is done, he’s going to create a new case study file, just for you. He could start kicking his feet at the thought, he's that excited. He’s excited! 

He’ll put the pedestrian, basic stuff like your height, weight, alma mater, major, past jobs and experiences. Somehow get into your social media that’s all on private mode to see what you’re always laughing at on that damn phone. He’s also going to bring up your phone records, go through your email, go through your physical mail. Oh, fuck, surveillance. He’s already in your room, too, luckily. If only he had more of his bugs on hand… The ones he always keeps in his belt buckle will do for now. Also, Tim needs to think of some way to acquire your breast, waist, and hip size – he has a good idea of those measurements, but he wants to know. When is the next time you’ll be out of the house and not at work, he wonders–

“Tim,” you whine, impatient. The sound is music to his ears.

Tim’s eyes rise from the board to your pouting face, and he smiles apologetically. Suddenly, your face dawns with disbelief and indignance.

Tim swiftly picks up one last piece and knocks one yours over.

“Checkmate.”

[emowonz]

₊˚ෆ ⊹₊ your eyes only P.SH ₊˚ෆ ⊹₊

⊹₊ ⋆ IN WHICH - what would happen if on a “normal” saturday night you layed in bed after posting on instagram, thinking nothing crazy would happen besides a few likes and swipe ups until you received a d!ck pic from no one other than your roommate park sunghoon.

⊹₊ ⋆ 🏷️- @heeseungsbm @hoonsprettyprincess @azunaar (pls lmk if you would like to be added :)

⊹₊ ⋆ PAIRING - roommate! sunghoon x fem! reader

⊹₊ ⋆ CONTAINS - nudity, mutual masturbation (sorta), sunghoon calls reader princess and baby, profanity, y/n loves ariana lmao, sunghoons a wee bit pervy.

⊹₊ ⋆ word count - 1k

⊹₊ ⋆ a/n - hey cuties >o< first of all i love love LOVE enhas new albums, especially my eyes only such a good song omg. secondly please let me know if you guys would want a part two of this fic!! i got lazy so i gave up last minute 😭. this also isn’t proofread sorry :( love you all 💞💞

sunghoons dialogue is in pink <3

⊹₊ ⋆ bad vibes, get off me

outta here with that fuckery ⊹₊ ⋆

monopoly by ariana grande and victoria monet blasted through your bedroom speaker as you layed in your pinked out bed kicking your feet in the air as you snapped photos of yourself. you were planning to post yourself after taking a hiatus from instagram, for mental health reasons of course. you finally had the big three, your hair was done, your lashes were style cat eyed like, and most importantly your nails were long, pink, with little cute bows on them.

you smirked as you looked at the photos you took, you loved looking and feeling pretty. especially since a special someone will be seeing the post, the person being no one other than your roommate park sunghoon. sunghoon was a normal college boy who happened to be your roommate this semester. you’ve always found him attractive seeing him on campus making you a tinny tiny crush on him. from time to time he would like your story or even slide up with a little compliment like, “new nails? 👍🏻” or even “you look nice.” never something that would make you think he would wanna fuck you, oh how you wished. sadly he was currently visiting his family and he will be returning when your asleep he stated to you before he left.

a sigh left your mouth as you picked the photo you were about to post, adding the “lagos” fliter and putting the intro of nasty by ariana grande to the picture. you were really hesitant to even post, wondering if someone might send it to a groupchat, anything that regards to someone talking bad about you. fuck it you thought as you hit the your story button before immediately leaving the instagram app.

you hummed the lyrics to the song playing on your playlist as you made your way to your bathroom to remove all your makeup, you had only did it for the pictures feeling pretty in your preshower makeup. putting your hair in a back ponytail to began your skincare routine. as you cleansed your face with your eyes closed you began to think about sunghoon, his clear skin, bushy eyebrows, plump lips, you were infatuated with him.

your pure thoughts soon turned to filth thinking about how it would be to have him inside you. was it grithy? did it curve? would he make you come with just his tongue? the images flashed through your mind at such a quick pace. a loud bing interrupted your mind porn making you jump to check the notification. most of the notis were from friends and family, saying how pretty you looked which you did. feeling your heart dropped at one message from no one other than park sunghoon.

you couldn’t believe what just happened, seeing his name in your dms as he doubled texted you. waiting atleast three minutes before opening the message. hitting his profile to reply to the message, you breathed in and out feeling your stomach get queasy to see what he had said, it could be good or bad or even a question.

park_sunghoon has replied to your story!

this song is ass 👎🏼

you let out a slight chuckle at the man’s message, what a loser you thought before reading the second message.

you look sexy though, who’s the lucky man?

your breath hitched reading the second message, is this real? you couldn’t believe this was happening. you started to second guess things, thinking he’s just joking playing a prank on you.

firstly, don’t ever disrespect ari like that again.

secondly, no man but thank you hottie💋.

suddenly you felt your ego rise making you feel more confident. you placed your phone back down to finsh up your skincare routine, after removing your pink tank top along with your shorts leaving you in a bra and pink panties. you placed your hello kitty robe on before going into your bedroom plopping in bed to open up instagram. you bit onto your acrylics eager to see what he replied.

oh nicknames already i see? well how are you princess?

damn, who wouldn’t want your pretty ass i know i would.

you giggled outloud at his message getting flustered over the text. the power he has over you already is quite insane. whether or not if he was pranking you, you still wanted to play along. being a tease.

oh really? if you want me you could easily get me park. you’re just scared lmao

scared? nah never been my thing baby. besides you’re the one who seems scared.

mhm you sure do seem scared, especially knowing how much i want you.

you threw your phone after sending the risky text as reality hit you, you’re not only talking to your crush you’re talking to the man you live with, your roommate! you’ll have to see him everyday until the semester is over. he doesn’t seem like he’s uninterested but it’s still nerve wracking. you leaned down to pick up your phone to see if he texted back.

i want you so much more then you want me princess, you just never gave me a chance to show you.

your thighs began to rub against eachother causing friction as you felt yourself grow wet at his messages. you bit your lower lip getting into the moment, you couldn’t handle the teasing anymore.

really? then prove it baby, show me how much you want me 💞

adding the innocent heart to soften your approach, just wanting to tease the man before bed. you sat and wait for a text back growing nervous, what if he didn’t like what you had said, or even made him uncomfortable. just as you were about to close instagram out for the night you received a double texted from him once again. your jaw dropped revealing the message you couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed.

*attachment*

fuck baby see what you did to me? all of this just because of your pretty face.

your jaw practically on the floor as you watched the ten second clip. it was no one other than your roommate laying in his childhood bedroom you guessed, shirtless revealing his beautiful honey toned skin as his big veiny hand stroked his pretty cock. it was a angry pink and bigger then you expected, not to mention when you turned up the volume all you heard was hoon groaning and mumbling “fuck fuck” before the clip ended.

you were soaked, matter a fact soaked was a understatement you were drenched. everything felt like a dream. you quickly replied to his message as your hand dipped into your panties beginning to toy with your clit, you let out whimpers and moans as you replayed the video.

woah

is there something wrong? fuck i’m sorry i shouldn’t have sent this my apologies.

you found it so cute that he apologized within seconds, leaving him on seen for a second as you opened your camera app and began to film yourself. it was such a pornographic moment you didn’t even feel like yourself. stretching yourself out with your fingers as you moaned his name practically begging him to fuck you, ending the video soon before you made a mess onto your bed. you’ve never sent nudes before but i guess it’s a first for everything.

sorry for the wait baby, don’t apologize i loved it🤭

i loved it so much that i made one just for you handsome <3

*attachment*

he almost immediately opened the message, you stared watching the text bubbles move up and down watching for a response. you got up to go clean yourself and to go put your bedsheets in the washer.

holy shit.

she’s so pretty baby, how would you hide her from me?

shit and you moaned my name? i’m about to come home and fuck you until you see stars.

you giggled at the man’s words noticing how eager he is for you making you flustered.

lmk when you’re here baby, i’ll be waiting 💋

he immediately hearted your messages making you jump up and dart to the bathroom, making you take a everything shower, shave, and moisturize. reality set in once more making you nervous. you couldn’t believe what you did and what you’re about to do. before you never even had a conversation with the man besides your chemistry class. before you could even back out h you heard keys jiggle at the door.

uh oh.

[prettyforwoso]

Help Us Understand.

Barca x teen reader

Alexia x teen reader

Lionesses x teen reader

word count: 3500

Summary: y/n, a talented 16-year-old footballer, nicknamed "la princesa," battles the harsh realities of adolescence. Burdened by self-harm scars and body image insecurities, she attempts to hide her struggles from the team. The team uncovers her deepening eating disorder, prompting a collective effort to guide her through recovery.

tw: mention of eating disorders and self harm

Being a teenager in this world is hard. Not only are you working with shitty hormones and breakouts on your face, you also have to put up with the nightmare of other teenagers. Most of them are fine, in fact, what seems to be the worst of it, are the people who are no longer teenagers, and think that’s a valid reason to attack those who are younger and more vulnerable than them. Like you.

You are a lioness, 16, debuting at 15, now playing for Barcelona, a along side your England teammates, Lucy and Keira. You are known as “la princesa.” The nickname came around after your first game for Barca, in which, you scored a Hatrick and pulled a neat assist. the fans linking your talent to Alexia, saying how much you play like her. Quick, rough, strong. You have always been that way.

This nickname sparked a close connection between you and Alexia. She took you under her wing the second you got off the plane in Barcelona. She didn’t like the idea of you living alone in a new country, despite your ability to speak perfect Spanish. So, you lived with her “only for the first few weeks” which has turned into months. Alexia acts like she is trying to help you find an apartment, but isn’t, like secretly loves having you around, seeing so much of her younger self in you. She fusses over you, cares for you, feeds you, scolds you, drives you to school, gets emails from your school. She has stepped into your life and has supported you in every way a mother would.

You have a bad history with self-harm. It was Leah Williamson who noticed it first, well maybe just the first person to speak to you about it, but you don’t know that. You were rooming with her for your first England camp. Nervous about the girls seeing your scars, you were always wearing a long sleeve under your training kit, which at times got hard as it was summer.

A few girls would joke to you, “how are you not boiling?” was the consistent one that just made you want to rip the skin off whoever said it. It was some of the older girls who brought it up with each other at a post-match dinner that you managed to get out of. It was Lucy, Leah, Mary, Beth and Lotte who exchanged their concern, how they never seen your arms, how you were always somehow too busy for ice baths, how you shivered when someone would grab your wrists. They all kept a close eye on you, but decided not to come to any conclusions, as in reality, you were known to be the sunshine and smiles of the squad.

But you weren’t, and deep down, they knew that too.

It all came crashing down one afternoon, when Leah found a bloody rag in the bathroom bin, she investigated further and found your blades in the back of your phone case that you had left on your bed.

She called Beth to your room, who then called lucy, they gathered together in your room, talking about the next steps. The three of them sat in an almost silence, saddened by the conformed truth. They made their plan, not wanting to waste any time.

They found you in the games room, laughing with Ella as you and a group of girls played table tennis.

“y/n, sorry I just need to grab you real quick” Leah said, breaking her observant silence. You were pulled into a room, it all happened so fast. Lucy placing you on her lap, wrapping her arms around you and Beth pulling your phone out of her back pocket. Leah speaking, you didn’t hear any of it, your focus being on Beths hands, taking off your phone case and picking up the tiny metal blades. You just cried and cried as they talked to you, you didn’t say a word, not denying anything. You cried into lucy’s arms as they tried to understand you and your reasoning being the scars. It took some gentle tugging and tears of resistance for your top to be pulled over your head, leaving you in just your bra and pants in Lucys lap as Leah ran a gentle finger across the healed and fresh marks along your arms. Beth moved closer to you, taking your face in her hands, clearly holding back tears of her own.

No one was supposed to know. But when they did, it killed you.

The bad thing about talent is the expectation of performance, and when you underperform, you would be attacked online. The hatred and negativity really got you, and ruined a lot of your confidence and the girls knew that. They knew the comments you would get, about your play, your personality, your body.

The comments about your body were some of the worst, and they didn’t get better when you started at Barca, in fact, they got worse. It was almost like it was all you saw. You would make a post about a game and hardly anyone would speak about how well you played or how many goals you scored. All you would see was the comments about how your body has changed, how you look in the kit, your legs, hips, arms, boobs. It got so bad that you stopped posting all together and turned off all your comments. Soon however, they comments came to the Barcelona Instagram page, and the pages of your teammates. You worked harder that ever. Working out was no longer about training your body to perform and be strong, it became about looking different and making changes to your body physically.

You were running lengths each morning and evening as well as staying back at training. You weren’t fat, or thin, nothing abnormal for a teenager with a changing body. You had bigger boobs than you did 3 months ago, wider hips, thicker thighs, yknow, everything normal, but the fans didn’t think so, and that’s what got the best of you.

Alexia noticed your increase in running and working out but at first brushed it off as you wanting to prove yourself to a new team. But it soon became hard to ignore when you were finding excuses to not eat, the snacks she would buy you because she knew you loved them, sat in the kitchen untouched. She tried to pretend she couldn’t hear you coughing up each meal in the bathroom, more for her own comfort.

It became too much to ignore when others noticed.

“Why are you running so much little one?” Mapi asked you, completely innocently after training one day in the change room.  At first you pretended not to hear, until you realised the whole team was awaiting an answer.

“Do you think I’m just naturally the fastest on the team?” you joke back, getting a laugh from her and a few others. Alexia remains stone face, looking as though she could see right through you.

A few of the girls watched you through squinted eyes as you pull your bag over your shoulder, noticing your spine that wasn’t visible last week. They exchange looks amongst themselves as you and Alexia walk towards her car.

“I got a call from your school yesterday” Alexia says, hiding behind her sunglasses as she pulls out of the car park.

“Why” you ask dry as you pull your phone out of your hoodie pocket. Alexias’s silence was inevitable. You turn your head towards her, awaiting a response. She keeps her eyes on the road, rolling her tongue along her top teeth, looking out at the cars ahead in deep thought.

“Why are you hiding from me bebita?” she breaks her silence, with an almost whisper.

“What are you talking about” you snap back in her direction

“You tell me Pequeña, Why do you think your school called, Se honesta conmigo” her eyes didn’t leave the road.

“No sé” you reply, swallowing the truth that lingers on the tip of your tongue, threatening to reveal itself.

“What is going on with you” Sabes que no deberías actuar de esta manera.” She takes a breath, remaining hidden being her bold sunglasses, refusing to look you in the eye, scared of becoming too vulnerable.

The silence was deafening. Pulling up in the driveway, you reach for the car door, your attempt at defusing the situation quickly rejected as Alexia locks the doors, trapping you in a conversation. You refuse to turn from the window, Alexia now being the one begging for eye contact.

“Bebita, look at me” she whispers. Her failed attempt of a resolution resulting in her hand reaching for your long curls, gently moving your head around to see your face. Her breath hitches as she looks at the tears swelling in your eyes, immediately bringing her thumb to wipe them off your soft skin.

“I hate when you yell at me” you begin, chocking on almost every syllable. “Estoy tratando de ser valiente”

“oh cariño ven” she says desperately as she pulls you effortlessly over the centre console and into her lap, wrapping her arms around you. Your tears just get heavier, as you hide your face into her neck, the idea of getting out of the car, now long forgotten.

“Bebita, your school is worried, you are the top student, why are you not doing work? Hay algo que te distraiga? She gently nudges you in her arms as she askes. “I am worried for you, talk to me”.

You just couldn’t bring yourself too. The truth is, you were too distracted for school, for homework, for study. There was so much on your mind right now. The last thing you were worried about was classes that you already knew all the content for. You were hungry, not eating at all, desperate for control over your changing body.

The next dreaded team bonding night came all too soon. Your tried to convince Alexia you were too busy with school but she wasn’t having a bar of it, almost having to drag you out the door and into the car. Nothing you wanted to do more in that moment than curl up in bed with a teddy and your warm blanket Alexia got you for my room in her house. But it was unavoidable. Alexia was correct in the way of you having to be at the dinner, in her perspective it was to show up and be social, for you personally it was about proving the concerned rumours between the girls that you weren’t eating wrong. However, that didn’t exactly go to plan.

Alexia parks in the driveway of Mapi and Ingrid’s home and you follow her inside. You greet all your teammates, receiving a kiss on the cheek and head pat from most of them and they smile down at you.

Since the conversation in Alexia’s car a few weeks ago, she hasn’t let you out of her sight, you didn’t even get into the not eating stuff, but still has watched your every mouthful over the past few weeks. You still had your tricks, not eating when she wasn’t around, running now three times a day on top of training, and all else. You were deteriorating. Dark bags under your eyes and hallowed cheeks.

“Y/n come get some pizza before you sit” Frido pulls you to the kitchen away from the crowd that was the typical team bonding, this felt like a test.

“Oh no, its okay” you scan your surroundings before following up your statement. “Alexia fed me before we came” you smile, attempting to be casual.

“oh, that’s weird, we always have dinner at team bonding” she raised an eyebrow, questioning what felt like your whole existence. She grabs a slice for herself and tries to offer you some anyways, failing as you kindly decline, insisting you will have some later.

People were scattered everywhere around the home, some sitting around the table playing card games, others vacating outside with a drink. You scan the house looking for place to escape to. All you wanted was to leave the overstimulation that was this monthly event.

You head towards the empty bathroom, the room you spend probably the most time in at other people’s houses. You begin to almost run towards it as you hear your name being called. It was too late; Lucy was stood outside yelling your name through the door of the garden.

“Y/n, come talk to us we miss you” she giggles as she enters the room to get you. You begin the walk of shame towards her. Overthinking what is coming next. Stepping out the door onto the porch your gently grabbed by the back of the neck and brought to a group of women standing around. Their faces light up as they see you. The group consists of Mapi, Lucy, Alexia Frido, Jenni and Ona, all sharing a bottle of wine.

“Y/n, you want a drink?” Ona asks, you aren’t sure if she’s joking or not.

“No Ona, she is a child” Jenni interferes and takes the drink Ona is pouring, handing it to Lucy, who puts it down with ease. You crack a smile at the interaction. They think you are so innocent…

“You’re not old enough for a drink yet Bebita, especially on an empty stomach” Alexia jokes with a smile.

“empty stomach?” Frido butts in, tilting her head in confusion at the contradicting information.

fuck.

You let out a load cough to clear your voice before quickly excusing yourself from the conversation. “I need to pee” you announce before hurrying inside, finding Ingrid at the table, playing cards with a few others.

The group, now abandoned by you stand in a deafening silence.

“She’s not eating is she?” Frido breaks, looking at Alexia with wide eyes.

“Shes not doing good, no” Their captain reply’s looking down at the glass in her hand.

“So we were right” Mapi says through squinted eyes as she tightened her grip on the stem of her wine glass.

Most of the team has been talking for a few weeks now. Lucy briefly filled them in about your history with Self harm and how you were managing it now. But the not showing up to meal times and doing overtime in the gym was something she couldn’t explain. However, they soon linked it to the bullying from people online about your body. It became to much for them all when Alexia broke down in front of them, claiming her worry for you. It was clear there was a bigger picture to what you were letting them see, seeing as their usually stone faced, strong captain had tears in her eyes over you.

Your rapid weight loss didn’t go unnoticed, even coaching staff beginning to threaten benching you if you didn’t gain some weight, claiming you were too weak to continue at full trainings and games. You always just told them you were sick, claiming it as an excuse for the weight loss and loss of appetite.

At first, everyone, including team members believed you, until they noticed you weren’t getting better, like you would if you were really sick with a catchable illness.

“So what are we going to do? because we cant loose her, shes our best” Lucy asks, getting more frantic as the sentence rolls out her mouth.

“I’ve tried talking to her, she just lies, tells me shes fine, ella me ignorará” Alexia says, finally looking up from her half full glass, meeting the eyes of her teammates.

“I know she needs me, but she won’t talk to me, she is sneaking into my bed each night for comfort, I wrap my arms around her when she falls alseep, ella tiene miedo de estar sola, shes been clinging to us, as if she is desprate for help, but doesn’t know how to ask. She won’t leave my side, unless there is food involved. luego ella desaparece” Alexia blurted out, speaking slow and clear, explaining herself.

“Maybe if we all try” Ona breaks her personal silence, earning a raised brow from a few listeners, the nodding heads soon followed.

“Bebita, can I come in” You hear Alexias voice beam through the small gap in the doorframe.

“A few of us are here too see you” you tilt your head in confusion at her followup statement, why are people here to see you, so late in the evening. You thought everyone would have returned home after team bonding, as did you and Alexia, why was there people outside your bedroom door?

You sit up in your bed, still tucked under the covers in your hoodie (that may of may not be Alexias) and shorts, clinging to your Stitch teddy. You close your laptop playing your movie and move it down the bed, finally giving Alexia a response.

“ehh, yeah come in” you say, unsure on what you are agreeing too.

You remain put under the safety of your covers, as if they would protect you from danger as the group of women enter your once personal space, finding refusge in spots around your room, most of them making themselves at home on your bed, espechailly Alexia, who comes up close to you and wraps and arm around your shoulders. Lucy, Ingrid, Mapi, Frido and Ona looked at you, as if they were waiting for you to break the artifical silence.

“Querida estamos aquí para hablar contigo” Ingrid is the first to speak up, beofre Mapi adds to her girlfrinds statement.

“I think you know what about” she fidgests with her rings. “we are just trying to understand”

“so help us do that, please sweetheart” Frido interupts.

You shake your head and close your eyes, as if you could open them and it would all go away. “I don’t know what your talking about”

“I have lectured you enough about your lying bebita” Alexia says in a stern voice.

The silence isn’t going away. You were in full control of it, and you knew that. You knew that they were waiting for you to talk, no one was going to make it easy for you.

”Desearía poder hacer que todo desaparezca” you shut your eyes once again as the tears start to spill out the creases. “I just want to be able to control what is changing”

The girls don’t speak, they are waiting for more, and they won’t break untill they are statified.

“I don’t know how to ask for help, or how to be okay” The tears get heavier as you push out the words, Alexia runs her free hand along your face, nudging you to keep going. You put in your best efforts to regain your breathing as your lip quivers in Alexia’s hand. Still no one was talking.

“I never meant for it to get this bad, I just wanted to get some control, I feel like there is so much online about me, rumors, hate, negitivity, all things I cant just reach out and get my hands on, to be able to toy with it and mold it to the way I want it. There is so little I can control, but my body, I can. No queria llegar tan lejos. Im so scared of losing myself, I want to hold onto the me that I am forever but I know I can’t, but I wanted to try, and that is why I yearn for whatever control I can get. So many ideas are put into my head about what my body should look like, how tall I should be, how much I should weigh, how tan I should be, how I should hold myself. I realised I am so calm and content when I play football, and that is because I am perfect at it, no one finds flaws in the way I play, but I second I step off the pitch I loose that warm feeling, because I have flaws again. When football is out of the picture, I am covered in them. I just wanted living to feel the same as playing, perfect and flawless.

The amont of tears in the room should safe a deadly drought.

“nuestra niña hermosa, estamos aquí” Ingrid climbs onto the bed coming closer to you, followed by the remaining womens in the room, all finding a spot, as close to you as they could get. So many arms are wrapped around you, so many hands holding your face, wiping your cold tears away.

“Let us help you darling” Lucy and Ona say in an unmost unison.

You slowly allow yourself to nod.

The following weeks were slow and painful, but what isn’t in recovery? The girls put it upon themselves to keep you in check, taking turns taking you out on small adventures, like going for walks or getting icecream to get you out of the house as you were ruled out of training and playing for a few weeks by your phycologist, that Alexia and Lucy insisted that you saw, they drove you to each appointment and picked you up, no questions asked. Meal time in the house became a big thing, Alexia discarding the idea of sitting around the table and eating, instead opting for sitting wherever, weather that was outside, or in, watching a movie, or just chatting. This change of environment around meals made eating less of a chore, as you got better, teammates would come over for dinner and it became more a social event, a more relaxing endeavor. You slowly made your way back to training as you got your fitness back, earning pats on the back from your team who you had made, very proud.

[14thgalerie]

under pressure

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: linger by the cranberries

• word count: 2.4k

• genre: angst

— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.

“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude. 

He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.

Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”

Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”

“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”

“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.

“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”

The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.

He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.

“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”

Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.

The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds. 

“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow. 

You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.

Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.

Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.

Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.

To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state. 

Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?

After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.

The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you. 

As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.

Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.

In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.

So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.

It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.

As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“

“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.

You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.

“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.

His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.

“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.

A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.

“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”

His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away. 

You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.

A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.” 

He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”

“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve. 

masterlist

[ambrosiagoldfish]

HI! Can I request Vox, husk or anyone else with a s/o who has an addiction problem?

Yes I know my Grammar and punctuation is out of line 🙏🏽

Hazbin Hotel x Addict!Reader

(Vox, Husk, and Angel Dust)

Viewer Discretion is Advised!

Warning: Drug/Alcohol Abuse, Gn!Reader, Reader being defensive, happy-ish endings.

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1170

A/n: Hi! Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing both Vox and Husk so I had to do some research (and by research, I mean reading 2+ hours of how other write them) to get an idea of their main characterization.

I really enjoyed writing this as I personally have my own experiences with addicts and how it’s affected me as a person. So this was also a little bit of a vent post if anything. I also added Angel cause I think it fits the theme but also he’s one of my comfort characters and writing for him made me happy.

Hope you enjoy <3

Proofread like once so sorry for any mistakes!



Vox

He’s used to being friends/knowing addicts. I mean one of his closest allies (And TOTES not previous hook-up buddy) Valentino, is also an addict who also employs many as well. So he’s not a stranger to it.

So mostly he’s indifferent to it, almsot desensitized to it. He doesn’t really see a danger to it, I mean we’re in hell and you can’t exactly OD and die

But of course, death isn’t the only thing that can happen when you're an addict. The breakdown of you as a person often happens, as well as you being reckless with money. And this is where Vox starts to have a problem.

If you’re in a relationship with Vox, then clearly you mean a lot to him, he may not be the most expressive about it but he does. So to see the partner that he has opened up to and grown attached to deteriorate slowly in front of him is something he refuses to accept.

So one day he cancels a meeting with his staff and calls you to his office so you two will be alone. When you get there he gives you a cup of coffee and you catch up a bit. How was your day? Have you ate yet? Those kinds of things.

Until finally he decides to just break open the floodgates with one simple statement.

“Darling… I think you should get clean”

You were caught off guard at first

“It’s fine, What’s the problem? we’re in hell”

He then comes out with his honest opinion

“*Sigh* I know it’s hell and you can’t die… but surely you can see how it would make me a bit… worried for you.”

He paused

“I mean even last week you spent all the allowance I gave you on it and you would have starved if I didn’t buy you food, surely you can see why it’s a fucking problem!”

Eventually after talking and depending on how it goes you either agree to go clean or it ends with an argument and he’ll just try again later.

If you agree, he’ll make sure he’s with you ever step of your sobriety. Considering he’s one of the top rising Overlords and owns VoxTech he’s got money so He’ll higher the best people to help you go clean(Do therapist exist in hell?)

“Thank you dear, you have no idea how much this means to me”

Husk

Similar to Vox in a lot of ways but also really different. He himself is an addict with alcohol so he clearly understands the struggles of it.

He has lots of walls up but for someone who “lost the ability to love” he sure does care a lot for you. I don’t think he would try a get you to go clean, at least not right away (or even at the beginning of the relationship) simply cause he thinks he doesn’t have a right to judge. So in all honesty he might just let you be.

That is until he realizes that you do it to forget things and ignore your problems/past. He knew first hand that drowning your sorrows away with your choice of addictive vice did nothing but harm you.

Then when you two are alone at his bar he’ll talk to you about it in a similar way he did with Angel. Perhaps a bit more softer than he did with Angel but even then “softer” is a bit of an overstatement.

“Look, I know you got a lot of shit that you don’t want to think about… but doing this *sigh* it’s not going to work, at least not in the long term.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He laughs. I mean, you were right. He was single handedly the worst person to be judging you. But surely you can understand his point of view, right?

Either way though, he leaves it alone again. Occasionally bringing it up when you’re both alone. He expresses the same sentiment about it each time hoping that eventually, hopefully…you’ll come to see from his perspective.

When you do finally see that he’s worried for you and understand why, you agree to go clean. Which, for once in a long while, made his supposedly cold dead heart melt.

“Glad you finally came to your senses… Seriously, I’m glad…”

Angel

He is THE addict of the show, so obviously he knows what you are going through and THEN some. Now,. Here’s the thing, how he handles it depends HEAVILY on when exactly you got with him/when you started having you addiction problem.

If you started dating him when you already were an addict he most definitely wouldn’t question anything about it. Hell, chances are you both might have taken part in it together. And it’s only when he starts making progress in the hotel (post EP4) is when he starts realizing how bad of an influence you both were on each other.

If you started sometime AFTER you both started dating then this boy would honestly feel terrible about it, ESPECIALLY after EP4 when he actually started being sober more often. He’d feel like he was a bad influence on you and that it was his fault you turned to your addiction.

Either way though, he will eventually realize that he doesn’t want you to be/continue to be on the same path he was. He’d talk to Charlie about arranging you to stay in the hotel, either in your own room or you guys could share one (he would honestly prefer the latter) and then after the preparations are made he would finally ask you too

Angel wasn’t expecting it to be easy, he gets what it’s like to suddenly be asked to go clean. And he knows how addicts act when they don’t get there vices, how he acts. So he mentally prepared himself for the worst first before asking you to come over and talk.

“Uh… Y/n can I talk to you about somethin’?”

You nod your head

“I’ve been thinking and… I think you should crash here at the hotel with me… and’ go clean.”

You only laugh “Angie I’m glad this hotel thing is workin’ for ya but that’s not really my style. No- I mean, I’m fine!”

Angel knows he put you on the spot, so he lightens off a bit but continues pressing on. He explains how he feels and how he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, to end up where he is. The poor boy starts crying honestly with how much he’s worried. He rarely opens up to people so this was a big step for him.

Seeing how much he cared and worried about you really put into perspective how important this was to him. So you agreed after some thinking.

“*sniff* thank you Baby, I’ll be there with you every step of the way… I love ya’ you know.”

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Dirty Little Stories » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky finds out what a dirty girl Y/N is when he finds her Tumblr blog.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, (f receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, metal arm kink, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut), pet names (doll, babydoll, doll face)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

Getting used to modern day technology was difficult for Bucky, but with help from you, it was easier than he thought. Now he’s able to talk, text, and do whatever he wants now. As of right now, Bucky was catching up on stuff he missed throughout the years. As he was scrolling through Google, he came across a link that’s connected to Tumblr so he tapped on it to see what it was. That’s when he came across something interesting. He found a blog that has particularly dirty things, meaning the person who runs the blog writes a lot of smut. Bucky tapped on one of the links that took him to one of the stories. His mind was nearly blown when he finished it. He went back to read another one and another one. That’s when something caught his eye. He recognized the name of the person’s blog. The name “Y/N” was displayed in the bio of the blog. It didn’t take long for Bucky to figure out that the blog is ran by his girlfriend, who isn’t as innocent as he thought she was.

“Oh you’re in so much trouble when you get home, doll.” Bucky says to himself.

Bucky continued to read the stories you have posted on your blog. He didn’t like the fact that you were writing and fantasizing about other men, but he will admit that your writing is very well written.

“Bucky, I’m home!” Your voice echoed through the apartment.

You kicked the door shut with your foot and went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Bucky shut his phone off and put it in his pocket, making his way to the kitchen.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky kisses your lips. “How was the store?” He asks.

“It was alright. It wasn’t as crowded as last week.” You tell him. “Anything interesting happened here?” You asked.

“Not really.” He starts. “I did come across something interesting.” He says, leaning against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was it?” You asked, putting something in the refrigerator.

“Have you heard of something called Tumblr?” He asks.

You stopped in your tracks, nearly dropping the gallon of milk in your hands.

“I- uhh may have came across it a couple times. Why?” You say nervously.

“Well, I seen this blog on there and this person writes stories that are sexual.” He says.

“Oh, th-that’s cool.” You say with a stutter.

“The person also has the same first name as you.” He says.

Your eyes widened. Bucky noticed how you went quiet. He pushed himself off the counter and approached you. Your breathing got heavy when you felt his presence behind you. Bucky’s body was against your back. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his body and the counter. You shivered when you felt his breath against your neck.

“Is there something you want to tell me, doll?” Bucky asks, whispering in your ear.

“N-No.” You say.

“Really? Cause it sounds like you do.” He says.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” You say, playing dumb.

“Don’t lie to me, babydoll. You exactly know what I’m talking about.” He says.

You gasped when you felt his bulge against your ass. It took everything in you to not give in and tell him that you’re the one writing those stories.

“I think…” Bucky’s right hand slides down the front of your body, stopping on your clothed pussy. “You’re the one who’s writing those dirty stories.” He says, applying pressure to your clit.

“It’s me! I’m the one who’s writing them!” You blurted out, not being able to take it anymore.

“I would’ve never thought that my doll has such a dirty mind.” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky spun you around and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom. He dropped you on the bed causing you to bounce a couple times. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed so your legs were dangling from it. His metal fingers tilted your head up so you were looking into his eyes that were once a beautiful blue which now were darker.

“I should punish you for being such a dirty girl, but instead, I’m going to have my fun with you.” He says.

You nodded. Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your lacy bra to him. He pushed you back so you were laying on the bed. He leaned over you, his dog tags dangling in your face. He placed kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasped when you felt his teeth graze your skin. He bit down hard enough to create a hickey. His hand blindly found its way to your back and expertly unclasping your bra, discarding it somewhere in the room. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples. You let out a moan when you felt his metal fingers pinch your nipple, sending a new sensation through your body. He moved his lips further down your body, stopping at the waistband of your leggings. Bucky hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down your legs, along with your soaked panties. He got on his knee next to the bed and spread your legs open, displaying your wetness to him. You moaned when you felt his fingers rub in between your wet folds.

“So wet for me.” Bucky says.

He moved his face closer to your pussy. His tongue slid in between your folds, moaning at your taste against his tongue. His tongue circled around your clit a few times before he latched his lips on it and began to suck on it. Your hands flew down to his head, tugging at his hair.

“Oh my god, yes!” You moaned, threw your head back in pleasure.

If you knew one thing about Bucky, it’s that he knows how to eat pussy. He took your pleasure seriously.

You were caught off guard when one of his metal fingers slid past your entrance. Your jaw dropped, breathy moans fell from your lips. The cool metal of his fingers against your walls felt better than any sex you have ever used. Bucky took his lips off your clit, but keeping his metal fingers inside of you, moving them at a painfully slow pace.

“When were you going to tell me about those dirty little stories of yours? Huh, doll?” Bucky asks.

“I-I don’t know.” You say.

Bucky stopped his movements with his fingers causing you to let out a frustrated whine. He chuckled at your frustrated state as he stood up. You watched as he took off his shirt causing you to lick your lips. You leaned up, touching his perfectly sculpted body. Bucky stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

“No touching, doll face.” He let go of your wrist. “Turn around and bend over the bed.” He orders.

You did as you were told and bent over the bed. You the sound of his belt hitting the floor causing you to look over your shoulder. You watched as he took off his jeans and boxers. You licked your lips at the sight of his hard cock.

“Face forward.” Bucky turns your head forward. “Spread ‘em.” He says, tapping your inner thigh.

You spread your legs apart, giving Bucky more access. Bucky rubs his hands over your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze causing you to gasp.

“All this time, I thought my doll was a good girl.” Bucky says, rubbing his hand up and down your spine.

“I am a good girl.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear you.

“You are, but as of right now, you’re a dirty little slut.” He says.

Bucky leaned over your body, his dog tags lightly brushed against your back. His metal hand went to the front of your body and down to your clit. His metal fingers lightly rubbed your clit in circles causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

“I know how much you love my metal arm so let’s see how long it takes you to cum just from me rub your little clit.” Bucky says in almost a whisper.

Bucky’s metal fingers applied more pressure to your clit and began rubbing it in circles. You gripped the blankets on the bed from the amount of pleasure Bucky was giving you just from his metal fingers.

“Bucky, please I want you to—” A moan left your lips causing you to cut your sentence short.

“You want me to what, doll?” He asks.

“Fuck me please!” You begged.

“Not until you cum on my metal fingers.” He says.

You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan left your mouth instead when two of his metal fingers slid past your entrance while his metal thumb continued to rub your clit. Your walls immediately clenched around his fingers.

“I know you want to cum. Just do it and I’ll give you my cock.” He whispers in your ear.

It didn’t take long for you to cum. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as you came hard on his metal fingers.

“There you go. Good girl.” Bucky praises.

You whimpered when he took his metal fingers out of your pussy. Bucky brought his metal fingers up to his mouth and tasted your juices, moaning at the taste. He then rubbed his cock in between your wet folds, his tip bumping your almost sensitive clit causing you to whimper. He lined his cock up at your entrance, slowly sliding it in, inch by inch until he was fully inside of you. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size. You nodded your head, giving him permission to start thrusting. Bucky gripped your hips and slowly pulled his cock out until his tip was left inside of you. With a hard thrust, his whole cock was back inside of you. His thrusts were rough, but loving.

“Such a dirty little slut, aren’t ya, babydoll? Say you’re a dirty little slut.” He says.

“I’m dirty little slut!” You moaned.

“You’re my dirty little slut.” Bucky practically growls.

Bucky leaned down, kissing along the back of your neck, working his way around to your lips. His right hand left your hip, his fingers gripped your jaw firmly and turned your head to capture your lips in a much needed kiss. One of your hands reached up to the back of his head to intensify the kiss. Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging at it causing Bucky to moan against your lips. Bucky’s metal hand left your hip and moved back down to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

“Bucky! Oh fuck!” You moaned.

“I love the way you moan my name. Keep saying it.” He says, kissing just below your ear.

“Bucky!” You moaned again.

The tip of his cock hit that one spot inside of you causing your pussy to clench around his cock making him moan at the feeling.

“I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” Bucky moans.

Bucky’s metal fingers applied more pressure to your clit, roughly rubbing it. Your hands clutched the blankets on the bed and your toes curled at the feeling. You felt your orgasm building up again.

“Bucky, I— oh fuck! Please let me cum!” You whined desperately.

“I don’t know if I should let you. You never told me what a dirty girl you are.” Bucky says teasingly.

“I’ll show you everything if you want! Just please let me cum!” You whined again.

“Alright then. Cum for me, doll.” He says.

Bucky’s fingers moved faster against your clit, helping you chase your high. Your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came harder than you did the first time. Bucky was now chasing his high.

“Such a good girl for me.” Bucky praises. “Gonna fill this little pussy up till it’s dripping with my cum.” He says in your ear.

“Yes please!” You moaned.

“Of course you fucking want it.” He chuckles. “Dirty girl.” He growls.

Your name left his lips as he came inside of you. Bucky thrusted a few more times before stopping and leaning against your back, his arms caging you in. You two stood there panting and catching your breath.

“You still with me, doll face?” Bucky moved your hair from your face. “I didn’t break you, did I?” He asks.

“Mmm, I’m good.” You hummed. “Just a little sensitive.” You say.

“Let’s get cleaned up and we can cuddle for the rest of the day.” He says and kissed your cheek.

Bucky slowly pulled his cock out of you causing you to whine. You tried standing up, but your legs were so wobbly causing you to lose your balance. Bucky was quick to catch you. He picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom for a nice warm bath. After you guys got cleaned up, Bucky gave you one of his t-shirts and got underneath the blankets with you, pulling you close to him. You snuggled yourself against his side and laid your head on his chest. You played with his dog tags.

“Just out of curiosity, how much of my smut did you read?” You asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“A few.” Bucky answers. “I have to say, you’re quite the writer.” He says.

“Oh god.” You say, hiding your face against his chest.

“I mean it, doll.” He says, lifting your head up to look at him.

You leaned up and kissed his lips sweetly.

“Let me know if you need any inspiration for your dirty little stories.” Bucky says against your lips.

“Bucky!” You whined, lightly smacking his chest causing him to chuckle.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[idlerin]

nonsense — epilogue: 43. utterly nonsensical

masterlist — previous | fin.

✦ fun facts !

oikawa does make sure that he proposes when [name] leasts expects it (and in clothes she would approve of)

its been two years since the final chapter, by this time, [name] already has a stable job as a screenwriter while oikawa’s acting career is still booming.

[name]’s friends know oikawa has been wanting to propose for months.

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — 3/3! i don’t even know where to begin, nonsense has been an integral part of my life for around 2-3 years, even before i began posting the story on tumblr, before it was even called ‘nonsense’. it’s been on the back of my mind for ages, and when i started this story i didn’t even think it would take me this long to finish it. there has been a lot of times where i lost motivation in writing, and i never forced myself to create because then i just know the content i would put out wouldn’t be the same. so i wrote when i felt like it, when i wanted to, because i think you should never force yourself to continue something if you don’t feel like doing it anymore.

i’m also the type of person that would persist when i love something, and i really really love nonsense. i love this little world that i created and i hope other people loved it too. it’s funny how nonsense began as a silly little thought just because i ran out of smaus to read, and i really did not know how to even make one! i just relied mostly on my gut and thought to myself what i would like to read :). nonsense is very dear to me because it’s the first smau i ever made, i started this last year and i think the story grew with me!

i would just like to thank everyone who read, liked, commented, reblogged, interacted, and spared time for nonsense. i can never say enough how every single one of you mean the world to me, you guys were part of the reason i kept coming back and finishing what i left of. motivation is really the key problem i have, and i can say what motivates me is my love for the story, haikyuu, and you guys ❤️

i love all of you so so so much, thank you for being part of this story and hopefully reading nonsense had made you smile or even made your day.

now, onto my next work! (that i will most likely procrastinate on too, bare with me my darlings)

taglist is closed ! + (1/2) @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @konzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @renardiererin @yyuiz @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite @princelingperfect @hearts4faey @yoonabeo @pantherhappy @julia-1901 @godsbiggestmenace @angel-luv-04 @noideawhothatis @bethbat @natsvmie @luna-mothii @lylovw @apinu @leave-rae-alone @kamikokii @bananasquash @eitaababe @minimari415 @hanabihwa @nilopillo

[probablyasocialecologist]

Traditionally, the image of a figleaf was used by artists to cover the body parts (think Adam and Eve) that they were not supposed to show in their paintings. As I use the term, a figleaf is a communicative device that provides just a bit of cover for something that one isn’t supposed to show in public – like racism. To see how this works, let’s first take a closer look at Trump’s call for a Muslim ban. Here is a statement, cast in the third person, that he read aloud in December 2015: Donald J Trump is calling for a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States until our country’s representatives can figure out what the hell is going on. The anti-Muslim message is loud and clear, and not hidden at all. But the end of the statement is the bit that I want to focus on: ‘until our country’s representatives can figure out what the hell is going on’. For some people, this phrase provided reassurance that Trump isn’t racist – because a real racist would want to ban Muslims period, not just while we figure out what’s going on. This is a figleaf: it provides just enough cover for the racism that isn’t acceptable to show in public. One reason that figleaves like this work is that many white people accept what the sociolinguist Jane Hill called ‘the folk theory of racism’. This view sets a very high bar for what counts as racist: a racist has to consciously believe in the biological inferiority of people of colour, and intend to be racist. Somebody like this would want to ban Muslims forever, not just temporarily. Similarly, they wouldn’t suggest that ‘some’ Mexican immigrants are good people, as Trump did. Nor would they have a Black friend, or declare themself to be non-racist, this line of thinking goes. A view such as this one makes it very easy for utterances to serve as figleaves for racism. These figleaves allow a voter to continue supporting a candidate who has made a comment that might have worried them. They don’t need to become fully convinced that the candidate is non-racist; it’s enough in many cases to be uncertain about whether the utterance indicates racism. When I examined discussions among Trump supporters online, I found people who worried about Trump’s views on Mexicans being reassured by those who pointed out that he also said some of them are good. ‘I didn’t hear him say anything racist against any race,’ one person posted. ‘What I did hear him say is, “Illegal Mexicans bring drugs, crime, and are rapists, but I’m sure some are good people.” Seriously, whats racist about that?’ Another Tweeted: ‘Trump is not racist … Trump is not against all mexicans just the illegals.’ Another classic form of figleaf involves reporting the words of others, either specifically (‘John Smith says…’) or in a vague, handwavy way (‘Lots of people are saying…’) This is a great way to avoid responsibility for what one is inserting into the discourse. We see this technique in the British politician Enoch Powell’s infamous ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech in 1968, in which he described a constituent (a ‘quite ordinary working man’) as saying: ‘In this country in 15 or 20 years’ time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man.’ Reports like these help to normalise the sentiments expressed, while distancing the speaker from them. Figleaves are not for everyone. Some people don’t need them: fully committed racists are happy with blatantly racist comments, no figleaves required. Many people won’t be convinced by them: antiracist activists, for example, will see right through the attempted reassurance. For others, though, they provide just what is needed – a licence to go on supporting the person they feel drawn to.

[ashbeneviento]

Hello, Evil Residents :)

I’d like to introduce you all to my Village OC (who was amazingly brought to visual light by my good friend @crowquillustrate on insta🖤)

OC: Datura

Named after the sacred Datura flower (Hallucinogenic and possibly deadly if ingested improperly)

Age: 27/Immortal

Physical Characteristics: 5’3, Pale skin, Long wavy brown hair, Hazel Eyes. Has a scar that travels under her eye down to her neck from a Lycan Attack.

Background: Datura grew up on a farm just outside the Village with her parents and little brother Sebastian. When she was 18 a pack of rogue Lycans destroyed her home, killing her mother and brother first. Datura was attacked but her father sacrificed himself to save her, leaving her to fend for herself.

Mother Miranda took her in for a few years before sending her over to work for Donna.

Personality: Datura is hard headed but kind hearted. She immediately bonded with Angie, who reminds her of her little brother. It takes her a while to get used to Donna though, who always seemed to hide herself away from her. Datura CAN be cruel, especially when she feels disrespected. Does she go a little overboard sometimes? Yes, yes she does.

Hobbies: Datura likes taking walks at night, despite Donna’s wishes. (She’s worried for her safety) She’s a painter, a violinist, sometimes she likes playing the piano as well but she would rather listen to Donna play instead. She picked up on scientific hobbies from her stay with Mother Miranda, and likes to experiment with tea making/making medicine for the Village folk. Hunting.

Sexuality: Datura is sapphic but doesn’t really have a preference other than Donna. Would consider her grey ace. Likes to explore new things in the bedroom but would rather spend her time watching vintage romance movies and cuddling up to her love.

Relationships: Partner, Donna obviously.

She likes spending the night at Alcina’s and has a soft spot for Cassandra. She loves hunting so she brings the Dimitrescus the finest of her catches.

Karl reminds her of her father but hates visiting his factory (bc of the Lycans) but she learns to love them eventually.

Sal loves when she visits the reservoir. She made him a special tea that stops him from throwing up and built him a brand new boat for him to go fishing in. He calls her Deetee.

Mother Miranda also has a soft spot for her (though she tries to deny it every chance she gets) Miranda didn’t give Datura the cadou because she wanted to use her as a vessel, instead she felt sorry for her and actually asked Datura for permission. She’s the reason Miranda has came to terms with Eva’s death and has learned to appreciate the four Lords as they are. She’s getting there, don’t worry.

Other: Datura is noturnal. She doesn’t need to sleep as much so she can be awake for days on end, but most active at night. Where Donna can control the pollen to cause hallucinations, Datura does so through her eyes. Sometimes when she dreams those dreams happen in real life. Prophetic. Her bite is poisonous and causes the victim to calcify, though she’s only had to use that power once. It does not work on those affected by the cadou, so Donna is immune.

She can teleport but isn’t very good at it.

(Once she tried to teleport into the village and she ended up scaring the mold out of Miranda who was in the middle of making coffee, ouch)

I plan on posting fanfic drabbles on here once I get the chance! I’d love to talk about Datura more and meet your Res8 OC’s as well, it’s good to be back in the Village 😉

Please do not share this art without proper credit to the artist, you may not use my OC as your own.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Also, I would like to add that Malleus’s blatant disregard for the autonomy of others and fits of rage is DELIBERATE on his end. Being one of the top five mages in the entire world, I am sure that he KNOWS there is a large disparity between his power/social and the rest of the peers/subordinates etc. His sheer and utter confidence in his abilities to get what he wants and general disregard for others isn’t only an indicator of his awareness about this disparity, but is also a reflection of the abuses of his power AND social status as a whole.

In light of his age, imagine the amount of times he has repeated these mistakes despite others advice and criticisms against his choices. Only Ace has been able to overcome others general reverence and fear towards Malleus when it came to calling him out. He is not an innocent person who is ignorant about the ways of humanity verses faes, and is certainly not the innocent character the fandom (especially those who are infatuated by him) think he is.

[Referencing this post!]

***Standard disclaimer: In sharing my thoughts, I do not mean to disparage Malleus fans. Furthermore, me disliking him should not detract from your own enjoyment of the character. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this topic (ie critique of Malleus’s character), then I encourage you to scroll on and to not engage with this post.***

My thoughts below the cut!

I do feel that, to some degree, the disregard for others and inappropriate fits of rage come from blatant ignorance (since Malleus did have a very isolated and sheltered upbringing). However, it's also hard for me to believe that in his 178 years of living that he was NOT told countless times by those around him (mostly Lilia and his grandmother, Maleficia) to wield his power and social status more tactfully than how he has. Did he take none of those lessons to heart??? What about the 2-3 years he spent living among the non-fae at NRC? Nothing from then too?? Regarding self-awareness of his strength and social status, Malleus has made it clear on more than one occasion that he stands above others. Right from his first appearance in the main story (in book 2), it's implied he's well aware of his position--so much so that he deliberately hides his identity from Yuu. He also cannot propose to Eliza in Ghost Marriage because he is the crown prince of a nation. Time and time again, Malleus's status is mentioned and it plays into his importance as the sole heir to Briar Valley. He must also know he is powerful, given that he is one of the top 5 strongest mages in the world and can perform incredible feats (like reassembling a stage and walking through Vil's poisonous miasma in book 5) like they're nothing. His grandmother and Lilia tell him the Draconias are powerful and shouldn’t use their magic to harm, but to help those they rule over. Yet he seems to have surprisingly few qualms when turning these powers against people who are only at a fraction of his power (Rook, his dorm mates, everyone in the Scalding Sands trip group, Ortho, etc.) or have no magic at all (remember when he attacked those civilians in Terror is Trending and the other Diasomnia students had to restrain him?). Malleus may be emotional in these moments, but the fact remains that he's making the deliberate, intentional choice to wield his magic in this way. He has the ability to hold himself back (as we see him refrain from fighting Rook in Malleus's PE Uniform vignette, only because he knows Rook is baiting him), but the vast majority of the time he fails to do this. For someone who is acutely aware of his power, you'd think he would... I don't know, keep a better leash on it? And what about his identity? So Malleus is concerned about Sebek insulting Leona (the prince of another country) but he ISN'T concerned about how his own fits of anger poorly reflect on himself, who is the CROWN PRINCE of a country??? Please make that make sense... Why is Malleus so selective 💀

I'm actually quite shocked at how little Malleus's pride and arrogance is pointed out; it's usually Leona who gets those labels even though Malleus is also just as arrogant, prideful, and confident in his own powers. Most of the time, I feel like I see Malleus being called "innocent". Maybe his negative traits on display get overlooked because TWST tries so hard to present Malleus to us as someone we are supposed to like (especially with how often they use his overpoweredness or loneliness is used as a punchline for jokes). Our interactions with Malleus are also so few and so short, particularly early in the main story, that fans project their own ideas about what he's like onto him and that forms a certain “image” of him that may not be the same as how he actually is. Him being lonely makes it easy for fans to perceive him as desperate for company and even easier for fans insert themselves as his “special” friend or S/O to fill the void.

It's... quite ironic, really? Malleus says in Riddle's Suitor Suit vignettes that he is familiar with the concept of "noblesse oblige", which is the implied duty of the privileged and nobility to act gracefully towards those less privileged. Yet... he is sometimes overstepping "fae playfulness" or "teenage childishness/immaturity" and continuously creating situations which put people around him in danger (all of Endless Halloween Night, not holding back his attacks against the Magicam Monsters, all the times he let his temper get out of control, book 7 OB, etc.) When defending the extremes he took in book 7 by citing his status and his UM, Malleus has this to say, which is very telling of his lucidity: "Monitoring? Meddling? Heh, how silly. It's a king's duty to govern, is it not? I'm watching over you. To ensure no nightmares befall you in the fairy tales you now reside in... To ensure you have happy dreams that last forever!" It's implied that Malleus's grandma has told him since childhood that their line has powerful magic to protect their people's smiles--and here he is, overextending those words to people that aren't even his subjects, and twisting the meaning to justify his own brutal rule.

What I noticed is... Malleus is often so oriented on seeing the situation from his POV that he fails to consider those from any entity aside from himself. In Endless Halloween Night, he feels sorry for the ghosts who showed up late and were left out of the festivities because he can relate to them, so therefore he wants to make sure they are included. In book 7, Malleus fears his loved ones leaving and projects this fear onto everyone else so he feels right in being the one coming in to be their "hero" and grant them happy endings they never asked for. In his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, Malleus frames the circumstances as, "I wouldn't be mad if you did the same thing to me" instead of listening to his peers' complaints. He centers problems around himself (which admittedly is very frustrating to me), and this is how Malleus tries to understand and navigate the world. This gives me the impression that he has a very particular way of thinking and it's perhaps difficult for him to understand others, even with extensive pointers.

I truly believe Malleus is ignorant about humans and fae. That much matches up with what we know of his history. What I do NOT get is why he continues to remain ignorant when 1) he has spent a few years exposed to non-fae and their ways; even if this pales in comparison to the 175ish other years of his life, he should have some new basis for appropriate social interactions with other races, and 2) major adult figures in his life are telling him he should consider others' perspectives and try to learn more about that which he is unfamiliar with. Malleus has so many opportunities to expand his horizons and get to know new people, but he seems to sit around and keep waiting for others take the initiative for him. But he could initiate too, so why doesn't he???? (He has shown he is capable of it, as he approaches Deuce to fix his virtual pet and chatting with Idia about the same pet in the main story; if not by himself, then Lilia can easily assist or invite him into activities such as the Silk City trip.) Even if Malleus fails to socialize in a way that's considered appropriate, at least that's something he can learn from and correct for next time... But why doesn’t he????????? If he did, it would sure help out with his inability to empathize with his peers and could even curb his temper (which would be seen as socially inappropriate). So why exactly does he seem to know so little and make so little effort to try and rectify this???? Why does he keep postulating that his word is above everyone else’s and then get upset when people don’t like him for this very alienating attitude? Aaaaah, it's a sad cycle to witness him devolve into again and again... 😭

P. S. Bless Ace for being the one character who still held it against Malleus for the fucked up “prank” he pulled in Endless Halloween Night (and then convincing everyone the misunderstanding was their faults for “attacking the ghosts first”).

[brighttears]

Finally

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description except female sex organs and having hair, no use of y/n

Summary: After losing contact with your lover Joel and his brother for five years, Tommy finds you and brings you into Jackson. You reunite with Joel but it doesn't take long for him to project his insecurity onto you. You talk to Tommy about it until Joel comes and finds you. You have make up sex/five years overdue sex, and end with a shower that eases some feelings out of you as you relax in your new home with Joel

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: (18+, MINORS DNI) PIV unprotected sex, creampie, mating press, slight hair pulling, slight edging, dirty talk, Joel has a big ol weiner, pet names (baby, babygirl, good girl, sweet girl, darling, my love), you and Joel have an argument, ‘slut’ used derogatorily, accused cheating, brief drinking, kind of insecure!Joel, Tess doesn’t exist

A/n: this is the longest it’s ever taken me to post anything lol (and also the longest thing i’ve written i think?). the quality will not correlate I was messing around with like four other ideas this is the just the only one that got somewhere, also been having way less time to write and that will probably continue 3: also finally did smut (for the one person who has said they want me to lol love u)

—

Riding up to the gates of Jackson, you feel like a teenager on their first day of high school, distractingly nervous but drifted forward by hopeful butterflies. You grip the leather reins and look to Tommy riding beside you, he grants you a reassuring grin. In front of you, the gates, made of lines of thick logs with a large rusty lock, start to groan open. Tommy slips through before you and you follow him into a different world—a ghost and dream, lit up by string lights, appearing warm despite the winter, healthy and alive. Your focus, however, concentrates on the faces, many of which are looking back at your new one. Flicking from one to the next, your heart rises and falls with every one that isn’t Joel’s. Tommy’s promise has your senses perked up like an animal. 

Ahead of you on the road, you double take a man with his back to you. Despite this and his hair being too gray, his posture and step are unmistakable. 

“Joel,” you utter, soft, a reaction rather than a call out; it croaks out of your throat, dusty from all its time stuck there. Awakened, his name erupts from you then, “Joel,” 

The man stops dead, then whirls around, and you stop breathing because it is him. Unable to look away, you stumble off of your horse and begin to walk towards him. It’s silent, almost frighteningly so, even if it’s just in your head, because it makes it feel like a dream, like if you so much as blink he’ll be gone or you’ll be awake. 

Joel mirrors you, then jogs, you feel hot tears behind your eyes, and then you collide, grabbing at each other like you’re making up for every lost embrace from the past five years apart. He makes a sound, holding you with his cheek on the side of your head. You shake once with a cry, a mixture of shock that keeps your eyes wide open, though blind, actualization flowing through you and into your fingers digging into his thick coat and tangling in his hair, dregs of sorrow and resentment against time finally detaching like leeches, and love, powerfully swirling around everything inside of you. 

Then you hear his voice for the first time, “Oh, baby,” and your eyes squeeze shut and you start to cry, and he holds you tighter. You can’t stop it, fueled by relief in the intense familiarity of the pressure of his arms, his scent, his voice, the way he breathes. 

Once you’re breathing properly, Joel pulls away, holding your waist. He looks you over, making sure you’re real and here, and when you are, he slips a hand under your jaw and pulls your wet face into a kiss. For a moment your lips are simply pressed, frozen, overwhelmed, and then they move, and you kiss starved, revived. The feeling of sanctuary rekindling floods you, your face quivering with tears, and you have to pull apart for a breath. 

And Joel is still here, and you hold his face in your hands because he’s so beautiful and he’s finally here. You take in each other’s new features—wrinkles, grays, scars. You slide your thumb over his cheek, feeling his rough skin, and then you meet in the stars in each other’s blown out pupils. 

Simultaneously, you start to giggle, giddy, and then you guffaw, holding each other, and Joel pulls you back in. Tightly, he sways you like a doll, and you feel his laughter through his body like against a speaker playing heavy base. Being in his arms feels like life being unpaused. 

“Tommy!” He cries over your shoulder, still laughing, “Where the fuck did’you find ‘er?” Still held tightly against him, you can’t hear Tommy’s response, but then Joel repeats “Oh, baby.” and leans his head down to loudly kiss the side of your face.

You pull away and admire him. No image that you’d drawn up in your imagination compares to Joel in the flesh. Running your hand through his longer, silvered hair, you realize just how much you were missing out on. 

“I found you.” You whisper. 

He chuckles with a wide smile, “You found me.” And then takes you back to him, “I missed you so much, baby.” 

“I missed you to death.” You mumble into him. 

Tommy’s voice sounds nearby, chuckling “Don’t smother ‘er to death, we just got ‘er back!” You part and turn to look at him with a rawly genuine grin. A sincere smile curves back. You thank him through your eyes and he nods. Joel strides past you to hug his brother, long and meaningful. 

Then he turns to you, hand still on Tommy’s shoulder, and looks you up and down. “Come on, you must be freezin’, I’ll take you up to the house.”

“The house?” You question as he guides you back up the road.

“The house.” He confirms with an amiable smirk, hugging you to his side by an arm wrapped around you. 

—

“I know, I know!” Joel enthuses as he closes the door behind you, watching you turn in a circle, mouth agape, taking in the house, which is actually fully intact, walls and furniture alike, basically clean. It smells like Joel and his jacket hangs on the pegboard on the wall next to the door. An acoustic guitar leans against the couch, which has a blanket hung over the back, there’s a mug out on the table, probably still half full and cold—this is Joel’s house. 

“Look, look,” he calls and rushes to the kitchen sink. He turns the handle and water flows out in a powerful stream, and you stride over, mouth still open in astonishment. You put your hand under the faucet and feel the water heating up. 

“Hot water!?” You cry, and you both burst out laughing again in joyful gratitude. You stop suddenly and Joel turns off the faucet. “Does this mean… shower?” Joel gives you a dramatic frown, raising his brows and shrugging, then nods his head to the stairs. Tugging at his arm, you cry out his name, thrilled. He takes off and you race him up the steps. 

“I can get’chou some clean clothes easy—how long you been wearing those?” 

“Disturbingly long.” 

Joel laughs. “You meet Tommy’s wife yet?” He looks back at you shaking your head as he opens his bedroom door, “Well, she’ll take care a ya’.” He steps into the middle of the room and turns back to you and you magnetize, holding each other by your arms. “Man, when I first got here I just kept thinkin’ how much you’d love this place.” 

The image of that almost makes you blush and your heart swells, knowing that he was still yours while you were gone, playing house with an imaginary you. “Damn straight I do. Fuck, you’ve just been livin’ it up.” Looking over his face, you’re beginning to relearn it. 

“Well, I am now.” His expression shifts from excitement into contentment and he murmurs, “I missed you so much, baby,” 

Fitting together comfortably, you join for a kiss. 

The calm of the room allows you to experience your feelings wholly, inside and out; thus, a shared heat is overt and you strip your jackets, not parting lips and hurriedly reattaching your bodies. 

“Shit,” you breathe out, craving him and finally being satisfied at the same time as his warm, powerful hands move over you, sliding up and down your sides, your back, up your forearm as your hand brushes over his face and into his hair and with your other you squeeze his thick bicep. He walks you into the wall, clutching your middle to him with an arm wrapped around you. His other hand drags from your face down your neck, flush against your skin as he continues slowly lowering it further, past your collarbone. Your chest expanding in a deep breath lifts it into his hand and Joel swears, then repeats in a murmur, “I missed you so much baby.” You respond with a whimper and wetter kiss, pulling him ever closer, and he swears again, the hand on your back clenching the fabric of your shirt. Then he moves it to the underside of your leg, between your thigh and your ass, and lifts, holding your thigh next to his leg with your foot dangling, toes curling in your boot. Truth is, no one has touched you since Joel, save for yourself, so he’s driving you crazy right now.

Your mouths together compose a natural melody, one motion rolling into the next, constantly finding and looking for more and you’re obsessed again with his flavor. If this lasted forever you wouldn’t even notice. But, just as he moans into your lips, Joel suddenly pulls back and holds you away by your waist.

You rest your hands on his forearms. “Joel?” You inquire, catching your breath, and then slide a hand over his cheek and under his chin to lift his head, looking for some kind of communication from his expression. He meets your eyes for only a second before he lets go of you completely, turning away and walking to the other side of the room. 

You stay where you are, granting him space. “Joel? What’s wrong?” He turns to you but his head is bowed. “…Joel?” Anxiety scratches at your heart and you wipe your mouth. 

Sighing heavily, he slowly rubs his hand over his face before finally speaking up, “Look… before we… go any further, I gotta ask…” he leans his hand on the short dresser and when he looks up his expression is unexpectedly serious. “Is there someone else?”

It takes you a couple seconds to put it together, but you ask anyway, just to make sure, “…What do you mean?”

Instantly, he replies, “You know what I mean.” Firmer this time, he repeats, “Is there someone else?” Confounded, you’re tongue tied, and he takes it as confirmation of his suspicions. “There is, isn’t there?” He almost sneers.

The atmosphere has shifted dramatically; just a few minutes ago he was laughing brightly with you, and about thirty seconds ago he was caressing you, amorous and loving.

“Are you joking?” Joel’s face says ‘what do you think?’ and you screw your own face up. “Are you asking me if I have some secret partner?” You ask once again just to be sure. He says nothing, only looks on unrelentingly and puts his hands on his hips, bent knee sticking out. You laugh coldly. “Holy shit.”

Near monotone, he asks, “Why’s that funny?”

“I just—wasn’t expecting this, at all, I mean this is just… do you realize how much of a jackass you’re being right now?” You pause, he says nothing. “Well, I’m not having a fucking affair. Okay? Jesus.” 

Joel huffs, keeping stoney eye contact, and grinds his teeth. You let him brew in the silence. Still, after all this time, you can read him like a book—he has convinced himself that you found someone better while he was gone and have come back only to blow sand in his eyes, and then you’re going to run off to your new, superior lover, leaving him on his ass in the mud. And although he doesn’t want it to be true, he always puts so much faith into awful assumptions, and he hates being wrong. 

You sigh in understanding but speak to him sternly, “Joel, you are making this shit up in your head and just putting it on me. That’s not fair. Don’t do this. There’s no reason to do this.”

Defensively, he suddenly raises his voice, “I jus’ wanna make sure I’m not steppin’ on any toes.” With a bite, he finishes, “I’m jus’ sayin’, if there is someone else, now’s the time to leave.” 

Your expression turns unsympathetic, brow pinched and mouth parted in amazement, and then you counter venomously, “I don’t know who you think I am. I don’t know what kind of twisted version of me you’ve created in your head. Are you trying to call me a fucking slut? That’s the kind of narrative you've thought up? That’s what you’ve been thinking about while I’ve been gone—me betraying you?”

Joel’s eyes are closed and his head is shaking before you even finish, pinching his brow with two fingers, “No, no,”

You cut right back in, “Alright, well that’s what it fucking sounds like to me so I am going to leave now—not to run off to some paramour,” you spit, “but because you’re being a fucking asshole and need to run this one back through before you talk to me again.” 

“W–wait,” He tries, but you’ve already spun on your heel, snatching up your jacket, and rush out with heavy footsteps. You don’t bother closing his front door behind you and don’t look back, not hearing anything either. 

You don’t know this town yet, but you keep the same pace you left Joel’s with and just follow the road, packed white with hard snow. The sharp air makes your eyes water and you swipe your hands at them blurring your vision. Your breaths, fast with your fiery heartbeat, blow steamy clouds like puffs of white smoke. 

You stop the first passerby you see, “There’s a bar here, right?” Your tongue hasn’t fully cooled yet and you try not to sound harsh. You’re almost out of breath. 

“Yeah,” the tall woman’s voice is mousy and she tucks stray black hair into her hat, then turns and points, “just follow this road, you’ll come to Main Street, it’ll be on your right.” As she turns her head back to you she adds, “It’s called the Tispy Bison.”

“Thank you.” you nod, do your best to smile, and continue on.

—

A rush of warm air blows out through the door swinging open and your nose starts to run as you step into the Tipsy Bison. It appears very ‘American’ themed, with its warm, inoffensively red walls, everything country–style wood, and taxidermy wall mounts. Crowning bright soda fridges are neon red Coca–Cola logos. A few lively groups are scattered about, talking and laughing. Blinking into the reality of the massive dining hall, you wipe your nose with your sleeve; it’s so much like the world before and for some reason it intimidates you. As you scan the room, you spot Tommy at the bar and remember you’re thirsty.

He smiles when he notices you approaching but it fades and he furrows his brow as he regards your expression. You slip into the chair next to him and he turns his torso to face you, one arm resting over the back of his seat, the other on the bar with a beer in his hand.

A gravelly voice from behind the bar asks, “What can I get ya?” and you turn to a friendly looking woman with thick, coily hair and dark teeth.

“Surprise me.”

“Gotcha. Comin’ right up.” She smiles and moves away. 

Turning your attention back to Tommy, his brow is still furrowed, as it is most of the time, really, and he bites his lip. “Trouble in paradise?”

You turn forward to rest your elbows on the bar and slide your head through your hands, pulling your cheeks, then resting them on the sides of your head. “Your brother’s being a little shit.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, he’s pretty good at that. What’e’do?”

During the time you’d been with Joel, you became close with his brother, too. Tommy has always been easy to talk to and you pick right up where you left off. It’s nice to have someone to talk candidly to about Joel, and you’re sure he feels the same. 

“Same kind of shit he always does—assume the worst in everyone and stick them with it for no fucking reason.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty classic Joel.” He sips his beer and smacks his lips. “You know he does really love you, though.”

“No, I know, I mean, I can tell even with this,” you remove your hands from your head and turn to him, “he’s accusing me of having ‘someone else’,” you air quote as you confide, “like I’m having a fucking affair. Came outta nowhere.” Looking to the side to blow out a breath, your eyes automatically flick around your surroundings.

“He’s just insecure.”

“I know. It’s not like I’m cutting him off or anything, and I want to stay in Jackson, I just told him to… cool off, in so many words. You know I love him too, I just had to fucking leave.” 

Just then, the voice sounds again beside you, “Here’s that surprise for ya.” She places a short, ribbed glass in front of you, a blood orange drink on the rocks. 

“Thank you.” You immediately take a swig and it’s bittersweet and smooth. 

As you do, Tommy says, “Yeah, good call. He just needs to get checked sometimes, y’know? He’ll figure it out. He’s just… yeah, he’s insecure.”

Looking down into your drink, you add, “He hates himself.” and spin the glass over the smooth bar. “That’s his worst quality. That’s the only thing I would change about him.”

Tommy sighs. “I think what makes it worse for him is how much he loves you.” He shakes his head, “He just gets so damn scared. He has no idea how strong he is, how good he is… I think we see a real different version of him than he does.” You nod. There’s a beat of silence before he continues, “It’s just… loss, y’know? It’s like he just wants’t’ beat it to the punch. He always feels like he’s doin’ sum’n wrong. Always thinkin’ it’s his fault.” 

You nod again. “You said it: he sees a real different version of himself than we do. I just wish I could…” you suck your teeth and turn to him, “I keep trying to talk him out of it, you know? Do you think that works?”

He looks down to think for a while, then looks back at you and concludes, “I think… it’s gotta be him.” 

You nod, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

To lighten the mood, Tommy smiles, “Well, don’tchou worry, he’ll be crawlin’ back t’you with his tail between his legs any second now.” You ‘psh’, looking ahead and admiring the warm-toned colored bottles shelved on the wall. Then he adds, “You’ll never lose ‘im, you know.”

You sip your drink and roll his words around with it, full, mellow, but strongly bittersweet. You and Joel had been separated for a long time, wherein all you had was faith, and you gripped that rope tight and never let go, just like he would for you, just like he did for Tommy. Joel has yet to let you down—he’s fucked up many times, but he’s never let you down, because he puts his heart into everything he does; it’s maybe his most admirable and most troubling trait. He loves so hard it hurts, sometimes not just him. You’ll never run out of patience though, because he’s your Joel, and you love him to death. He hit you like a bullet, quick and good, and he’s lodged somewhere inside of you, unretrievable. 

“Speak a the devil.” Tommy’s voice breaks you out of reflection, looking past you, and you turn to see Joel, halfway in the doorway, devastating eyes and all. For a moment you just watch him, awkward in the doorway, admiring his presence, but you keep a straight, neutral face. You look back at Tommy as you take a last swig of your drink and he smiles with understanding eyes. 

Hopping down from your stool and strolling towards Joel, you have to bite hard back a smile, though you’re still pissed. Catching him doing the same, you briefly question why you have to do this dance instead of just leaping back into each other, mixing into your color and staying like that in his bed, which must be so soft and comfortable and warm with him in it. He is so god damn beautiful and it’s been so long that your hands twist nervously behind your back and you feel yourself blushing, so you turn your head down as you near him. You have good reason to show him you’re upset, though—the dance is important. 

“Can we talk?” He asks you, voice entirely soft. 

You look up at him, pause, and then nod. Joel turns back outside slowly and does more than he needs to to hold the door for you.

Winter is near its end but you’ve arrived just in time for a cold snap; the wind has picked up significantly in the short time you’ve been inside, icey and sharp, and you bend your head down against it and hug yourself. Joel starts to put his arm around you but pulls away, glancing at you with awkward steps towards his house. 

“Hold me.” You answer, so he does, arm around your shoulders, curving himself around you as the wind whips. The man is a living furnace, you can feel it even like this. 

—

It’s silent until you’re back in Joel’s house, too cold and windy for any kind of conversation. Adjusting to the indoors, you both blow out sighs, and Joel impulsively helps you out of your coat and hangs it on the peg next to his on the wall by the door. Then he just stands awkwardly; he’s never been good at this. What’s important, though, is that he’s trying. Waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts, you lean against a wall with your hands behind your back. After a moment, he looks around, sucking his teeth, and then moves ungainly to sit in a chair at the table. You follow and sit across from him. More silence, he fiddles with his hands on the table in front of him and grinds his teeth. Under the table, you run a finger back and forth over the wood’s grooves on its apron. 

“Okay,” he starts, then pauses, keeping his gaze on his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice sounds rehearsed, like he said ‘I’m sorry’ in his head twenty times before he spoke it. “I was wrong. I didn’t mean t’… I mean I’d be pissed too, if you said sum’n like that to me. I know that’s not you. I was jus’… scared,” he wills the word out, looking off to some spot on the floor, “You’re right, I,” he pauses, then motions his hand up in circles next to his head, “I jus’, made this whole story up in my head. I mean we haven’t even talked about, y’know, what’s happened in the past five years. I have no idea what you did or didn’t do, and it’s not my business unless you want it to be. I jus’, I don’t know,” he shifts back in his chair and fiddles with his hands again, “I was just afraid that y’d… forgott’n about me or found someone better or, uhh…y–y–”

Watching him start to fumble over his words, you decide that now is an ok time to cut in, starting quiet and gentle, “I didn’t.” Joel looks at you as you speak, his brow furrowed up. “I never forgot about you. I thought about you every day. I was scared, too, I didn’t know anything about how you were doing or where you were, I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, but I just lived like I would. I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t, I wasn’t able to. And there’s no one better, Joel,” you slide your hand over the table to take one of his. He unclasps them to fold it in and watches his thumb stroke over your hand. “You are the only one. What I feel for you can’t be touched. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could be with anyone else. But I didn’t try. All I did was miss you.”

At that, Joel takes your hand with both of his, taking a deep breath, and then leans in to place soft kisses over your knuckles, peering up at you as he does. A bolt in your core throbs heat into the rest of your body and you feel slightly dizzy. Again, you haven't had any kind of touch like this since the last time you were with Joel, so you’re starving for it, but above all, for Joel. His lips are gentle, his hands are warm and burly folded around yours. 

You slip your hand out of his and get up from the table. He watches you walk to his side to fix your level of separation and he stands and joins you back into an embrace. 

You sink into each other, bodies and minds fusing as if you were never apart. You match temperatures so all you feel is the pressure of his hands sliding up your back, under your shirt. In his hold, your back is arched and your hips are met; there’s barely any space between your bodies at all. You hold onto his face, running your hands over it, messing up his hair, focusing on his lips, letting him do the work on your body. Joel places a hand on the front of your thigh and starts slowly dragging it up. You twitch under it, desire like a lightning storm around under his touch. You nearly jerk into it and he finally slides his broad hand flush between your thighs. Your head falls back and he doesn’t miss a beat, moving his lips on your neck, and it forces a moan out of you. 

“You like that?” He says into your skin, barely out of a kiss, nose pressed against it. 

“Yes,” you whine, “please, oh my god.”

You feel Joel smile into your neck and he nips it. “Jump up.” You do, his hands out and ready to catch your thighs. This was a regular trick of yours and apparently your bodies haven’t forgotten it. As he starts for the stairs, you lean yourself over his shoulder. The placement of his hands are in both the best and worst spot, splayed just barely over every area you want him to touch. You hold onto his neck as he brings you upstairs and laugh when he kicks his bedroom door open, making it bang loudly against the wall. Once you drop back down to the ground, you connect your mouths again and immediately start to strip. While you struggle with the buttons on his shirt he undoes his belt and jeans and then yours. You rip his flannel off of him, annoyed at it, and then slide your hands under his shirt. You feel over his chest, around his back, and up his sides, relishing in it, and he chuckles into your lips before helping you pull it off. He wastes no time on your shirt, loving that you’re braless, caressing your chest, and then pulls you in, pressing your bare fronts together. You moan in the satisfaction of feeling him like this again. His calloused hands run smoothly up your back and on their way down pass briefly under your waistband. You raise him by slipping your hand all the way into his jeans, cupping his hardening cock. He swears into your mouth as you find hold of it. It electrifies you further, having forgotten about this part of him. Quickening breaths deepen the rise and fall of your chest against his.

He pulls his lips from yours and his voice is gruff when he says, “You’re killin’ me darlin’.”

The tone and the way he’s hardening in your hands is driving you wildly lustful and you tell him frankly, voice pitched high, “I want you so bad Joel I love your cock I need you to fuck me,” all of this wet into his lips. 

Immediately, Joel tugs down your pants, but when they’re at your knees, he pulls away to look at you and he says “Boots.” You both laugh breathily and sit down on the edge of his bed—your pants still halfway down—undoing your laces hastily. He finishes first and then helps you untie the laces of your other shoe, both of you chuckling with heavy breaths. You kick them off and then Joel moves in front of you, taking hold of the cuffs of your jeans to pull them off. Once they are, in one swift motion, he opens your legs up with his in between them, and, still standing but leaning over you on the bed, he slips his hand back between your legs. He places it flush against you through your underwear, which would be embarrassingly dirty, but who fucking cares? They’ll be gone soon anyway. Joel’s mouth opens amorously, watching your eyes as you let out a long, embarrassingly pornographic moan at the raw enough contact. He slides down deeper, the heel of his hand pressing lightly and thrillingly on your clit and you gasp into another moan. He grins and then leans his head down to your neck, dragging his tongue up its full length.

“Fuck,” you drawl involuntarily as a shiver runs through you and you hook your arms under his to claw his back. When Joel slides his hand back up between your legs, wetness seeps from your slit. Joel chuckles erotically, his breath over the line of his saliva on your neck making it worse and your legs open wider. The heat under his hand matches that in your chest and your breaths are more desperate in want of him.

Fed up of him taking it so slow, you slide your hands under him and push him up, holding onto his biceps to pull you up with him as he stands, and lick into his mouth. Your other hand goes straight into his pants and under his briefs, teasing him like he had you. When he moans into your mouth you squeeze only slightly and then slowly move your hand up until your thumb comes to the spot just before the underside of his tip. You begin working it like that, teasing him wet and sensitive in your hand. 

Joel pulls his face away from yours, eyes closed, and breathes out “Shit.” He squeezes the arm reached down and moves his hips into your hand. You keep at it, biting your lip watching him. “Ah, oh, fuck,” he mumbles, almost sluring his words, and warns, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” when you do stop, he groans. 

Bringing your hand away from him, you settle it on his belly and wrap your other arm around his neck to nuzzle your face into it and mumble, “I missed your cock so much, I miss feeling it, I wanna see you cum,”

“Fuck.” Joel states, then commands, “Lay back on the bed.” You do as you’re told, propping yourself up with your forearms behind you on the bed and watch him drop his pants. Finally naked, his cock bounces to flip onto his stomach, reaching just under his belly button; dark curls hide everything else. Your sigh is almost a moan just looking at him, like a meaty roman sculpture of the exemplary man. His brow shadows sultry eyes and, like an animal in heat, you open your legs, peering up at him needily.

He slowly crawls over you and whispers, “Move up for me darlin’,” nodding his head to the side for you to lay properly on the bed, head on his pillow. He reaches past you to click on the bedside lamp and then sits up on his knees, admiring you under the golden–yellow light. He places a large hand on your stomach, adding pressure as he slivers it up to fondle your chest.

You appreciate the sentiment, but you have plenty of time for slow, worship sex, and right now, “Joel please I need you to fuck me,”

Smirking, he growls, “Since you asked so nice,” and lowers himself onto you, kissing sluggishly. He doesn’t bother to remove his face from against yours to take your underwear off, just tugs at them until they find their way to slip off. Then, as he positions himself, your thigh slides over his—it’s small, but something about it makes you sigh sensually.

“You ready for me baby?” Joel asks, hovering his lips over yours.

You could come up with some clever remark but now is not the time, so you simply whine, “Yes, Joel, please, I need you,”

“Yeah?” He says, low and lazy, and then moans softly as he eases his thick length into you. Deep satisfaction flows through you as he fills you up, humming and moaning. Your foreheads press together as you adjust, both your mouths wide open, and Joel’s fist clutches the sheets next to your head. He brings himself back out slowly until only his tip is inside you, and then his free hand clutches your side as if to hold you in place as he reinserts himself and begins thrusting, now only barely pulling any length out before plunging back in. Your lungs jump and clumsy moans pour out of you as the force of it rocks your hips. 

Joel licks your cheek and then, grabbing hold of your hips to keep himself inside you, pulls himself to sit on his knees. Stretching your arms up, you bear yourself to him, and his mouth has yet to close. He bites his lip before starting to fuck you again, both harder and faster, holding your lower back completely off of the bed. 

“Only me, huh?” He says, breaths bumping as he drives himself into you, “I’m the only one that touches you?”

“Yes,” you moan out. 

“You touched yourself, though did’n you?” You answer in the same way, “You thought about me while you did, huh?” 

“Uh-huh,” you sound, high pitched as he starts to fuck you harder. 

“Did it feel this good?”

“No,” your drawn out answer catches with the force of his hips pounding against you. 

Joel’s head falls back as he speeds up and you already feel yourself start to constrict around him. 

“Shit,” he looks back down at you, hums aggressively, and slows his pace dramatically. “No baby, not yet, not yet.” As he pulls out fully, precum flicks onto your stomach and he drops your hips. Back down on top of you, your body weighs into the bed under his and your mouths bond again.

Joel can’t keep his cock out of you for long, though, keeping up messy kisses, each rolling into the next in a flux, he shoves his hand down to slip back into you and fucks a quick tempo that makes the bed creak. One of his hands stays planted on the bed next to your head and the other goes back to hold your hip, pulling you into him with each of his thrusts. Angled slightly up inside of you, he hits a spot that produces a guttural moan from you, and while your mouth is wide open with it, Joel doesn’t quit biting and licking at your lips. 

Your body reacts without you, your hand slithering over him—up his arms, his torso, his back, one landing to grip his hair and the other reaching at his hip. The way he bucks into you now hinders your ability to kiss but your faces rub and touch, sharing the same hot air, moaning over each other. 

After one loud, long moan, Joel pulls out of you again in a swift motion, moaning through pants. 

“Joel why the fuck do you keep stopping,” you slap your palms on his chest in frustration, legs still spread under him. 

“Well I js’ don’t wanna cum too fast,” he answers innocently.

“Joel I have been waiting five years…” he starts to chuckle and you smile, “for you to cum.” You slap his chest again and then decide to take this matter into your own hands, pushing him up to get yourself on top. You straddle him, his cock resting stiff and shining on his stomach. Back up at his face, you look into dark eyes, his lips parted with heavy breaths, and you slide your fingers through his hair, gripping a bunch, silver strands highlighted in the light. Keeping eye contact, Joel’s fingers trail lightly down either of your sides as you sit up, sliding his joystick into your hold, and he hums as you sit down on it. After adjusting to his throbbing size, you come up and back down slowly a few times, and then begin swinging your hips to fuck him. A loud, long moan cracks out of him and he closes his eyes and seizes your hips. You release his hair and instead hold into his thick, veiny forearms like handlebars as you accelerate. He moans, long and loud again, and, keeping up a beat with your hips, you lay down on him, pressing your body against his, and eat the moans from his mouth. He adjusts his hold by wrapping an arm around the middle of your back to hold you down and squeezing your ass with the other as if to help your hips along. To keep yourself stabilized enough to keep your mouths together—you could barely call it kissing anymore, just sliding tongues and lips however you can—you plant your hands on the bed with your arms like you would doing a pushup. 

Even though you’re on top, Joel is in control now, holding you to fuck up into you.

He angles his head down so that your foreheads stay pressed but he can speak, “Fuck babygirl you feel so good, so fuckin’ tight, I fill you up so good, huh? Pussy’s just for me to cum in, huh? All fr’ me? All mine? Can you tell me you’re all mine?” His words and breaths catch with the rhythm of the surging flux of your bodies rolling together. You feel his muscles jolting in his lower abdomen as he drives in and out and those in his arm twitching against your back with the force of it. The way he fills you is carnally satisfying and overdue and you never want it to stop.

“Yes, yes, all yours, all for you, my pussy’s all for you—fuuck—yours, my pussy belongs to you,”

“Thas’ right, babygirl, you belong to me.” He takes your bottom lip with his teeth and pulls your mouth back to roll his tongue into and unfurls his arm around you to grasp a bundle of hair. 

Suddenly, he maneuvers you to flump your back on the bed, bringing himself back on top, and immediately stuffs himself back into you. He grips your hips again to fuck you like he was before, controlling you like a doll, and you grab onto his wrists.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he continues, fucking with an immediately brutal pace, hitting you somewhere deep and perfect but he’s talking over you too much to be able to tell him you’re going to cum, “I was so spolied, I didn’ realize how spoiled I was with this lil’ pussy,” he bumps you hard and rough a couple times to emphasize, “perfect lil’ pussy on my perfect lil’ girl, my sweet girl, so good to me,” Joel tilts forward, keeping himself securely deep between your legs, and releases one of your hips—which you would not be surprised to be bruised exactly in the form of his fingers—to stroke his hand over your cheek, and then gently hooks his thumb in your mouth, pulling your lip out to the side. “Now I get t’ fuck you every fuckin’ night, cause you’re all mine n’ I’m all yours, gonna make you cum every fuckin’ night,” your hips inadvertently lurch against him and you bark a moan and his thumb trails out of your mouth as your head leans back onto the bed. You haven’t had your body move like this in awhile, an animal in and of itself, innately greedy for its mate. Joel sounds almost excited when he says, “Ooh, oh, you gonna cum babygirl?” He sits back on his calves rather than standing on his knees and readjusts his hold on your hips, hands digging into the flesh defining your waist to your hips, and pulls you into his rough, uncoordinated thrusts, driving the entirety of his shaft into you so deep that you feel pressure pushing up in your stomach with each rocking tug. He pants out moans, watching you attentively as your face screws up while you reach your personal crescendo. 

The only time you feel this desperate for something is when you’re about to die—such a blind need, a moment stretched out that you will to continue until you are satiated, and oh does Joel deliver. 

“Go on babygirl, go on n’ cum for me, cum around my cock, be a good girl an’ show me you’re mine, I wanna make you cum, baby cum for me, cum for me,” 

His pleading encouragement is more than enough to pierce the balloon swelling in your stomach, already being bumped rapturously by his manhood. One of your hands is thrown back, grasping at the sheets, the other remaining around his wrist. Your eyes roll back in your head, you suck in a breath and there is a moment of silence, save for the creaking bed, before you break it with a ridiculous, long moan, perceiving only the bursts of ecstasy from Joel’s messy pace, which he quickens with breathy moans. Your contractions around him are dramatic, essentially sucking his dick inside of you like instinct. He pulls you against him and is mostly still besides his hips, which rapidly lurch, drawing out your orgasm to overlap with his. He falls silent again, mouth open and his brow furrowed, eyes also nearly rolled back in his head, as he mechanically glides short in and outs, nearly all of him buried inside of you, pulling back an inch at a time at most as he uses your trembling, sheathlike pussy to stroke out his cum. Then, as his hips jerk forward, leaning into you, and then jerk in again, moans squeeze out of his throat, and he finishes pressed into you. 

Panting, you stay pressed and gaze at each other, more or less astonished. 

“God damn.” Joel is the first to comment.

You laugh, out of breath, feeling him ooze inside of you. “We really get to do that every night.”

“My god I’m in heaven.” He half jokes with a smile, then relaxes your position with a huff, letting his softening length fall out and rest over you. Joel runs his hands up and down your body in two broad strokes, looking you over, then smirks and chuckles breathily. Then he slaps your thighs and simply offers, “Shower?” and laughs as your face lights up.

“Fuck I almost forgot about that!” You grin with wide, excited eyes, and follow him off the bed, squeezing your legs together a little, still filled with his cum, as you walk to the bathroom attached to Joel’s room. You admire the back of him as he turns the squeaky knobs. You can count on one hand how many times you’ve gotten this kind of full view of him; as many times as you’ve been naked with each other, it’s almost always had to have been somewhat ducked and rushed. His back is casually muscular and he has ever so slight love handles. A knee bent outwards shows off a round ass. 

Hearing the water start to spray, you can’t help a giggle, eager, and he twists to you with a smirking grin and laughs. 

“Oh man,” he chuckles as he turns his back, meticulously adjusting the temperature, then twists his head again, looking at you expectantly, “Well come on, then,” and you patter over. He gently takes your hand to lead you into the square stall, and moves behind you to slide the glass door shut. 

There is no need for him to walk you through the process of taking a shower, but he slowly guides you under the spray anyway, and you gasp as it hits you, still heating up, not used to the sensation. You hadn't realized that it’s been so long that you’ve forgotten how a shower feels and it disturbs you slightly, feeling a little feral versus Joel’s domesticated cleanliness, but his light, absent minded smile eases the thoughts out as he walks in a few slow steps, backing you up to join you under the showerhead’s broad spray. He leans his head back, closes his eyes under the water, and lets go of you to smooth his hair back as the water soaks it. When he opens his eyes again, he smiles at you and smoothes his hands over your wet face. 

“Turn around,” he nods, and you do. He stops touching you, leaving you unnerved for only a moment until his hands come back over your upper back, cool soap gliding them over your skin. He squeezes your shoulders lightly and it makes you sigh, then slides his hands over your shoulders, up and down each arm individually, adding more slight, relaxing pressure, and then his hands follow the personal downward design of your body as he shifts his body against your back. Stubble tickles your neck and you giggle as he nudges in to place innocent kisses over your neck while he washes your chest, then slipping soapy hands down your sides to your waist, hips, and what he can reach of your thighs. Humming out a deep sigh, you feel dazed and limp under the hot, deeply relaxing water. Joel embraces you from behind, just resting his face in your neck, standing still with his arms around you. 

Suddenly, you’re hit with the urge to cry. This is the safest you’ve felt in a long, long time. Not only are you in Jackson, a secure compound where you can go see a friend for a drink and take a hot shower with the promise of fresh clothes, but your love is finally with you, solid and warm, holding you with strong arms and gentle lips. You can’t hold it back, and when Joel feels it he removes himself and turns you around. “What’s wrong babygirl?” concern contorts his face. 

Smiling as much as your crying allows, you answer, “Nothing.” 

Understanding, Joel pouts his lips in an emotional smile and pulls you back in, hooking his arms under yours to support your weight, and your arms follow up around his neck. “I know.” You let it go and weep quietly against him. “It’s alright baby. I got’chou. You’re alright, darlin’.” He reassures you. After a couple minutes, you calm, suddenly very tired, barely opening your eyes when Joel pulls away. “Oh, baby,” he chuckles, “don’t go to sleep in the shower. Lemme finish you up real quick, then you can go to bed n’ I’ll get you some new clothes from Maria.”

“No,” you murmur, “don’t leave me.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulls you back in, “I’ll stay with you. I’ll never leave you.” He sighs serenely into the crook of your neck. “You can just borrow some’m my clothes, n’ I’ll talk to Maria in the mornin’. Okay?” You nod. “Alright, baby,” he readjusts his embrace around you, “let’s just get into bed, we can give you a proper shower later. Plenty a time. You can take a shower every day if you want, a hot shower every day. An’ I’ll stay with you every night. Jus’ like like this.” Joel’s hands rub up and down your body, “Warm like this. Every day will be warm jus’ like this now, my love.”

[theglassesgirl]

Calypso vs Antinous: A Tale of Two Villains

I know this is such a weird topic for me to come back for after not blogging for months, especially I’ve never spoken on this fandom here, as opposed to TikTok. But precisely BECAUSE tiktok is so limiting, even if you make various videos on a topic, someone won’t have all the context and the comment system of that app is pure ass so here I am

Calypso and Antinous are two (out of three!) of the MAJOR villains in the Wisdom Saga, however, both these villains have produced polarizing discourse that has fascinated yet confounded me. On Calypo’s end, she is a villain who many are made upset by when she is interpreted as the villain she is (in varying degrees). On Antinous’s end, he is a villain who many are made upset by when he is interpreted as anything BUT the villain he is (in various extremes). What on earth happened here?

I’ll try to dissect what has transpired as i have come to understand both situations.

PLEASE try to read through the end, but if you like, you are also more than welcome to just focus on one section if you don’t care for both discourses or how i think one affects the other. I totally get it. KEEP IN MIND, that i might speak about something you haven’t PERSONALLY seen, but as i often say in fandom, just because YOU didn’t see it, doesn’t mean it didn’t HAPPEN. It adds context to why/how certain fans are reacting as they are. You could be in one camp, and never have seen what the other camp has, so at any point where youre reading and saying to yourself “is this a thing that happened?” Consider that it did indeed, happen, and you are welcome to expand your knowledge on the subject.

ANY comments that go “you have no idea what your talking about/this isn’t true/i’ve never seen this/when did this happen(sarcastically)” will not be answered and you will be blocked, because it is clear you are not actually open to discussion. You’ve made up your mind about these characters and topics, and my time, at least, is valuable.

GENUINE questions like “I didn’t know this/when did this happen (genuine)/can you explain this point more” are more than welcome. I will absolutely entertain character interpretation as well, so long as we’re not trying to “convince” one another, as that isn’t the point of this post. These are two villains who i find fascinating and am wondering why are being treated so differently in discourse spaces.

For Calypso:

I truly and HONESTLY believe that because Calypso is a unique (and lovable! Mind you!) villain, it had led to many of her newer fans to feel uncomfortable with her role in the story. I have seen numerous sides of her discourse and have come with a few iron-clad rules: it is ONLY acceptable to call someone out if they are harassing Wangui, calypo’s VA (which has NOT happened as i am writing this out) OR if an anti-calypso comes into SOMEONE ELSE’s post saying anything like “if you like calypso then you condone her actions” because as what we sane people know, that is just a silly fallacy, OR if they start shit in a cosplayers/fanfic writer/fanartists comment section. ASIDE from these instances, i will be speaking on what none sense has transpired about how Calypso is portrayed in the Musical within her first song, and her future song, because BOTH have been used for utter bias.

A few things to debunk:

FIRST Calypso is NOT cursed to fall in love with anyone who comes across her island. That is a Percy Jackson ONLY addition that has no bearings on her actions in the musical or the original poem.

ALSO though Calypso CANONICALLY RAPES Odysseus for seven years in the original poem, the CHILDREN from that abuse only really exist in secondary sources/works. They NOT in the original poem.

Having said that:

The Ambiguity of Calypso’s actions in both of her songs means that everyone is right when they speculate on what she has done. Odysseus was trapped on her island against HIS will for seven years. He is canonically seen refusing her advances, trying to kill himself, and begging her to let him go and leave him alone. These are UNDISPUTED facts. As such, regardless of how YOU personally choose to interpret Calypso actions, she will always have a CANONICAL victim in the musical. I feel people are forgetting Odysseus when they speak on Calypso and that’s the whole point of her existence in the poem and the musical.

This leads directly into WHY there has been arguments about Calypso’s character. In the POEM, she very much sexually assaults Odysseus for seven long years. He is seen crying nightly and begging to be free. In the MUSICAL, Jorge has decided to leave the situation ambiguous - which, i have seen, does not sit well with current fandom culture. NEW fans of Calypso seem to be very adamant about NOT interpreting Calypso as a rapist, in levels that range for they’re just not comfy with it so decided not to head canon her as such, to other very concerningly speaking about rape survivors in such a way to justify liking a villain when you dont HAVE to justify liking a villain at any point at all ever.

Let’s break it down.

Those who just don’t like the idea of Calypso being a rapist in the MUSICAL are valid. It’s very easy to block and avoid those who have chosen to explore this aspect of her in the musical because they can and are allowed to. I am very pro-finding a space in fandom where you can talk about Calypso without HAVING to mention she might have raped someone. She’s still a villain for having kept Odysseus captive for seven years, but it’s not important. You are more than allowed to love villains, and without the rape aspect, Calypso’s villainy boils down to her physiological and emotionally torturing Odysseus while physically kidnapping him. That’s still ALOT of bad stuff to unpack, if you so want to. You could also not want to! It doesn’t hurt anyone, and anyone who says it does is not being intellectually honest.

The PROBLEM that I’m seeing, is that many of her newer fans…DONT want Calypso to be seen as a villain. At all. Which…is not how fandom works, I’m sorry to say.

While some EPIC fans have interpreted Calypso of being manipulative / selfish even in their most sympathetic analysis of the story (and the current song), others are treating these interpretation as wholly incorrect and somehow a form of harassment. The main caveat to this reaction appears to be, as TikTok puts it, “That Calypso DOESN’T SA Odysseus on the musical”

As we have pointed out, Calypso canonically rapes Odysseus in the poem, while it’s ambiguous in the musical. As we have ALSO pointed out, the ambiguity of the musical allow ALL INTERPRETATIONS to be correct. Something about the RAPE aspect of Calypso’s characterization in this musical, however, is the primary reason this discourse has happened.

Now, as i have said earlier. You are in your RIGHT to not head canon Calypso has a rapist in the musical. In the same vein others also have a RIGHT to head canon Calypso AS a rapist in the musical. But from what I’ve seen, it’s when others interpret Calypso as a rapist that newer Calypso fans leave comments about they’re not “interpreting the story correctly” and not “Judging calypso based on Jorge’s vision” and at first i found it funny…now it’s a bit concerning.

There are two instances that come to mind. One tiktoker made a video where she was in tears saying that it made HER SAD that people were “judging Calypso wholly based on outside sources material” which is disingenuous. As i have said before, even without the RAPE aspect of Calypso, which i will go further into what her newer fans consider “rape”, she is still an antagonist within the musical - she is a villain who keeps Odysseus against his will. To claim that they are calling her a villain for that reason alone is a blatant and useless addition to the discourse. I did not care for it at all. It would have been MUCH MORE constructive for this tiktoker to say that even though Calypso is a villain, the sexual assault is up to individual interpretation, and as all interpretations are valid, it’s better to find people who agree with your head canons rather than start fights with people who don’t share yours. This tiktoker very poorly worded the discourse as a one-sided thing where one side is wrong, and that is simply not true.

ANOTHER tiktoker, who wisely turned off comments because such discussions are impossible on the app, worryingly claimed that a line in Not Sorry for Loving You was absolute PROOF that Calypso did not “rape” Odysseus so it was wrong to interpret her as such, because, and this is a loose quotation “i don’t think Jorge would make Odysseus say something like that HAD Calypso done that to him” which unfortunately leaves fandom discourse into REAL WORLD victim discourse. Holy shit. The line she is referring to is when Odysseus calms Calypso down when she is in the middle of explaining her actions by saying “Calypso i love you, but not the way you want me to” to this tiktoker, it seems illogical for a rape victim to every say these kinds of things to their rapist…which is….NOT it. At all. Fiction, as beautiful as it is, is meant for you to QUESTION “huh…how would this impossible fictional scenario work? What makes this compelling?” It is NOT meant for you to attribute your REAL WORLD assumptions onto a FICTIONAL SCENARIO in order to justify you liking a villain character when you dont HAVE to justify it. You can like Calypso! It’s only weird when you make real-world comparisons like this because a rape victim can and HAS said as much and even more to their rapists in known history. *bonks you* dont do what this person did! Fiction allows you to explore situation that would be traumatizing outside of it in as safe and consensual way! You CANNOT and should NOT ascribe your personal biases on sensitive topics for FICTIONAL characters. That’s not how this works. “real victim wouldn’t x, so fictional wouldn’t y” is a ludicrous statement! You can’t back it up with facts! “Fictional victim does x, so i wonder if there ever would be a situation where a real victim would do y, and would like educate myself on the topic” IS what fiction was made for! OPENing your mind, not closing it for stupid reasons.

But it got me thinking. BECAUSE these fans anchor their arguments on the rape of Odysseus, even when they themselves DONT consider it, what exactly do they consider rape, and why is that ONE act Calypso may or may not do the ONLY reason to call her a villain when she is one, regardless.

Well, I’ve seen a lot of back and forth. Some anti-calypso’s are okay with the idea that Calypso is more of a “kissy-face” monster, a silly villain who, having no concept of what actual love is and what your supposed to do with someone you love, thinks hugging and kissing is the only thing on the table. It still makes this version of Calypso something of a sex pest and is still in line with sexual assault as we see Odysseus is miserable. The gravity of the situation is based entirely on funny fanfics to Odysseus canonically trying to kill himself because of Calypso’s affection. This interpretation (shockingly enough) is also hated by some new Calypso fans.

Because from what i have gathered. “SA” as used in TikTok, had been boiled down to a literal forced insertion of Odysseus’s dick in Calypso’s vagina. Not the literal words “sexual assault” which is an umbrella term for multiple things. But in this discourse “SA” has JUST been used for the ACT of rape itself. That is what new Calypso fans think is criminal. That is what they entirely base her villainy on. Because we will NEVER get confirmation on whether this happened, it’s impossible to engage with some of the newer fans, who dislike attributing Calypso with the villain title because of this one thing and this one thing alone. Any other line, from Calypso saying “and I’m sorry if i pushed you, or if i came on too strong” in her next song, or even her saying “in bed we will climb” is, for some reason, not grounds for others to be allowed to interpret her as, at the very least, assaulting Odysseus physically and sexually in a way without having to have actually raped him. It boggles my mind. Truly. But every argument i have seen has boiled down to the newer fans saying “welllllll, we dont know the context, and Odysseus said —“ when i have already explained that none of that matters. All interpretations are valid. You CANNOT say with certainty that she did or didn’t rape Odysseus. That’s the POINT. You can’t PROVE either, stop TRYING to, it’s YOUR choice and your interpretation can be backed by lyrics/official animatics, but it is hardly an absolute.

It has become a GROWING problem that in videos where Calypso is portrayed negatively, there are at least a dozen newer calypso fans who have to bring up how she is sympathetic, and therefore, not a villain. Which is not true. She is the MOST compelling villain in the epic musical, thus far.

These “fans” say that she absolutely didn’t rape Odysseus which is theory, not fact. And not a theory that can become fact. In the same way that saying she absolutely did rape is can not become fact. They appear to believe everything outside of this hypothetical act, nothing else she does is deserving of her title as a villain, and start arguments in non discourse posts about all the ways she’s sympathetic when it goes hand in hand with what makes her a compelling villain antagonist.

There’s also a newer cope saying that it’s all Zeus’s fault anyway, which has NO bearings on the conversation as, again, despite Zeus being a dick and allowing Odysseus live while not necessarily enabling him returning to Ithaca, it’s still up to Calypso on how she acts towards HER captive. And she straight up chooses violence lmao. Athena asks for “Devine intervention” to an impossible situation, regardless of if it was Zeus’s actions that led to it, it’s also up to him to “untie apprehensions” because Calypso, being a goddess, has complete control over whether Odysseus can leave and SHE won’t. She has to be ORDERD to. By a HIGHER power. Zeus.

Such argumentations as “well if YOU were in Calypso’s situation, wouldn’t you also do the same” are useless fallacies to get into, because you are NOT a goddess who owns an island and is in possession of a man who does not love you. Even if you were, guess what, it still makes you the antagonist. A villain. A knowing one or not.

In fact, since I LIKE interpretations that Calypso isn’t psychologically torturing Odysseus ON PURPOSE, i go as far as to say that her being a genuine goddess who wants love is in fact…..so much more painful, narratively. Because that means she is INCAPABLE of ever being a good person. Her loneliness and fear of being unloved makes her utterly blind to Odysseus’s misery. She HEARS him saying constantly that he misses his family, that all he hears are screams, and that SHE doesn’t know him, but she in turn CANNOT get passed this because she is, at her core, unable to, and thus accidentally triggers him constantly, is delusional about her island being paradise, AND convinces herself that her love is real (when it is not) and that Oddy will love her back if she keeps trying.

THAT is what you call a compelling villain!

As in all Calypso stories. There is NEVER a moment of clarity where Calypso realizes “if i actually love this person, i should let him go” in the musical HERMES is tasked in telling her to let him go. And she, as in all her other stories, goes on a tirade to explain/justify her actions, however you wish to see her being manipulative or honest. Regardless of how you choose to SEE calypso, at the end of the day, she has NO RIGHT to be upset at Odysseus because he was her captive. And REGARDLESS of whether Odysseus’s words are interpreted as him forgiving her, or just placating her, at the end of the day, he is her victim and she ends her next song upset that he is willingly leaving her once he got the chance. With absolutely no hope of him returning her feelings. It’s not his job to make her feel better, she IS an antagonist, and you are allowed to love her no matter how that might upset others. It is ONLY a problem when you take it to such extremes that you are in other peoples comments acting as if Calypso is a real person who needs defending. You are more than in your right to block people who come into YOUR videos accusing you of somehow being a bad person because you like a bad person. That’s not how fiction works.

Once again. My analysis of the Calypso debacle is that for some, calling Calypso a villain upsets them. Because they like her, and they are uncomfortable with the idea of liking a villain. This is a personal grievance that shouldn’t boil into fandom. Know your truth, have fun. You CAN make silly calypso videos. Many have. Her song is a bop, the meaning of the song is hilariously dark compared to the composition. Jorge did his job VERY well. Too well, that the idea of liking Calypso feels either / or when it’s not. TRUST that i would not be on the side of anyone who says “if you like calypso, youre evil”, but I HAVE seen a pattern that because Calypso is likable, than several people have made it their confused mission to tell everyone who is “mean to her” that “if you DISLIKE calypso, YOU are evil”. That’s bizarre to me. Calypso does enough evil actions in the musical to warrant that title regardless of the reasons for her actions, whether she is being purposely malicious or unconsciously so due to her lack of socialization. Being weird about real life SA survivors for a fictional character is never acceptable. For or against Calypso, whether she is a rapist or not, it is up to YOU to find like minded people who share your interpretation, not to argue with people who disagree with you in their own space. She isn’t real. Get over it.

ANYONE WHO HARASSES WAGNUI, COSPLAYERS, OR GOES INTO POSITIVE CALYPSO INTERPRETATION SPACES TO BE PURPOSELY MEAN* ARE WRONG. Otherwise. Leave them alone, they are as valid as you are. “Defending” a character is a waste of time when you could be creating for them. Calypso is a compelling villian antagonist regardless of how uwu or vile you choose to make her. Thus is the beauty of fiction.

(*purposely mean, would, logically, be someone calling you an idiot or a rape apologist for headcanoning her in a positive way. The ideal interaction with a negative calypso interpreter would be “i dont see her this way, but i understand/like your headcanon”)

WHICH BRINGS US TO Antinous:

Hilariously enough. Antinous has the complete INVERSE problem as Calypso, which was also detailed in her section for fairness sake at multiple points, and this problem is much easier to understand. Antinous is a villian antagonist in the musical Epic, and in his debut in the wisdom saga, he is shown (like calypso) to be in direct opposition to Telemachus and Penelope’s goal.

He alludes to sexual assault much more clearly than calypso. He calls Penelope a tramp to her son’s face AND suggests he let them into her room “so [they] can have fun with her” which is in the same vein as calypso saying “soon in bed we will climb” to Odysseus later on that “you (Odysseus) are mine all mine” in her own song. Like calypso, it is told to us that Antinous has been having this kind of vibe for FIVE YEARS* (a fan pointed this out to me! read here🙏🏼) as opposed to calypso’s seven years. Everyone is, usually, in agreement that Antinous is a villain in the wisdom saga and in the overall Epic musical.

Antinous’s VA is ON TikTok, and has spoken about how happy he is that fans consider him a talented person who did a spectacular rendition of such a villainous character. AND YET.

Inversely from what we saw in the Calypso section, where some of her fans are against the notion of her being portrayed as the antagonist she is, for Antinous we have MANY fans claiming that others are not ALLOWED to portray him as anything BUT an antagonist. Unlike with Calypso, where people circularly argue that her allusions to sexual assault are “too ambigous” and lead to much senseless debate on whether you’re “allowed” to like her or call her a villian, with ANTINOUS, there is this claim that he ABSOLUTELY is alluded to sexual assault and therefore, cannot be liked or treated as anything other than a villain.

As i have discussed AT LENGTH in Calypso’s section, this argumentation is pure fallacy.

There have been NUMEROUS thirst videos that have rightfully said that DESPITE the actions of the character, they still think Antinous is hot and likable (the Gaston affect, if you will). Even WITHOUT the disclaimer, it is OF COURSE understood that Antinous fans are NOT rape apologists. That is a ridiculous assumption that serves only to kill any interpretation that someone else can rightfully have.

It’s utterly devoid of nuance or actual knowledge of how to play within fandom and interact w characters.

There have been SEVERAL posts calling Antinous fans delusional for liking him and “reminding” the fandom that he is a bad guy. This serves no purpose and is utterly useless to the discourse. Antinous being a bad guy is not debated. This is factual. It doesn’t (or shouldn’t, because we cannot speak in absolutes) hurt anyone’s feelings to see an Antinous videos depicting him as the villain he is. Like with Calypso it is ONLY acceptable to call someone out if they are harassing Ayron Alexander, Antinous’s VA (which has NOT happened as i am writing this out) OR if an anti-Antinous comes into SOMEONE ELSE’s post saying anything like “if you like Antinous then you condone his actions” because as what we sane people know, that is just a silly fallacy, OR if they start shit in a cosplayers/fanfic writer/fanartists comment section.

Otherwise. Who cares that someone is saying Antinous is a villain? Block the no fun police and enjoy analysis from others who choose to see him purely as what he is, if you want. If you dont, block them to, it’s your space. You have a RIGHT to headcanon Antinous however you want, even make up AUs for him where he’s nice or lives and gets a happy ending, SO LONG AS you’re not in other people’s posts going actually Antie is my uwu child and he did nothing wrong. Cuz then youre just being dumb. And annoying. Fandom is already impatient with genuine disagreement, being a smart ass gets your head dunked in a toilet. I used to think this was common sense.

(And in case you didn’t read the Calypso section, or didn’t see enough of it there, this IS the appropriate response to people who address newer fans of her as rape apologists too, its in her section, i just also thought it was important to touch on the stranger phenomena of her other fans refusing to call her a villain because it makes them personally uncomfortable - it’s very interesting as Calypso is a female antagonist while Antinous being a male antagonist is being treated very differently for the same subject. In any case, it’s a disservice to either character and Jorge’s narrative to get upset about the very real fact that BOTH of these characters are villain antagonists.)

The very CURRENT discourse surrounding Antinous is that he was recently shipped with Telemachus.

The animator for Apollo’s section of God Games was harassed to such a point that she had to make a public apology regarding her ALTERNATE UNIVERSE scenario. And i, personally, think that’s bullshit.

There have been accusations that she was being insensitive to sexual assault survivors, and that she made a dark joke, all of which she addressed in her apology IN ADDITION to her explaining that she is ALSO a survivor of child sexual assault. She took down her work. DESPITE all of this, there are still others who continue to harass her, and claim that they dont want “a rape creator” in THEIR fandom. To those people: you don’t speak for any of us. In the same way you can claim not to believe that the animator is a survivor, i have no reason to consider your concerns in any way shape or form as being in service of victims. It is absolutely not your call, when blocking and scrolling on will ALWAYS be an option for YOU.

Even in the event someone writes Antonio’s fan fiction keeping his canon personality and characterization in a non-canon divergent way it is not grounds to harass people.

In addition to this animator, there have been SEVERAL Antinous shippers who have expressed disappointment that she was essentially harassed into a corner, as they also liked the ship and the AU she created. These people are NOT “weird” they are allowed to express themselves creatively, and if you disagree, dont even bother with leaving any sort of response — i wont read it, my time is important. Stay in your echo chamber. Even if it wasn’t an AU, and someone wants to write for Antinous as he is in the narrative, they are more than allowed to do so. Dark fiction isn’t going to traumatize you or give you cooties. Grow up.

I am MUCH more willing to ride with Antinous shippers than i ever will be with fans who attempt to control how a character is interpreted by others. Because to ship Antinous with anyone, AU or otherwise, you have to have an UNDERSTANDING of why this would be a compelling thing to write/make fanart for. He is an evil character, and it would be FASCINATING to see him in fictional scenarios that (like in the calypso section) lead us to as WHY this would be an appealing and interesting take on someone. It’s OKAY to do it in fiction. He isn’t REAL. It’s not hurting EVERYONE. And more so than with calypso, it IS understood that Antinous HAS victims in Penelope and Telemachus There’s no senseless debate on what he is, a villain, no one is arguing he is a uwu babygirl so please sympathize w him, it’s inherently understood even among his FANS.

This is why find Antonio’s and Calypso’s discourses so polarizing. Because no one is getting offended or arguing that Antinous only acts villainously because of some tragic backstory or sympathetic reason. It would be absurd to.

That’s the appeal of a lovable villain. Because like Calypso, Antinous IS lovable, but in such a different way that you have fans treating both characters as if they’re polar opposite when at the very LEAST, there’s on the same bracket, just different ends of them. Telemachus/Penelope and Odysseus’s plights are being MIRRORED in parallel.

THAT is what floors me about these two discourses. That they are functionally THE SAME yet are being treating as if they aren’t. I’m positive that there is an Antinous fan who detests Calypso in the same way there is a Calypso fan who detests Antinous. These are called biases. Once you KNOW your own bias, it is up to YOU to act right according to them.

You are responsible for your OWN fyp.

The Epic fandom had yet to experience such backwards discourse as this, and I wouldn’t expect Jorge or any of the VAs to dignify such trivial discourse with a response. If you’re the type to bring it up to them, you’re being awful. The popular fandom Epic tiktokers are already way too involved as it is. And even they are getting things wrong.

It almost feels remiss to say that in the NARRATIVE of the musical, both Calypso and Antinous are villian antagonists, while outside of the narrative they become dolls you can play with however you like, so long as we are not in each others comments being obtuse. I don’t expect any of my essay to even make it to a larger part of the fandom. But i HAD to get my ideas written down, because if you don’t see someone else connecting the dots you have, you have to present them yourself. Very “can’t we all just get along?” But hopefully, not as insufferable nor one-sides as others might have been. I tried to bring up ideas/points that i have not seen discussed about these two villains and why they seem to connect and go hand in hand.

Why is Calypso, as a female antagonist, given more grace than Antinous, a male antagonist, who is very firmly given none at all. It very well could be just how they were presented, and if so, ask yourself WHY these villains were presented so differently. What purpose do they serve? What are they trying to accomplish? These are questions more suited for actual fandom collaboration that is being drowned out by circular arguements. It feels like homework, instead of knee-jerk reacting to interpretations unlike your own.

To ME, these two characters are two sides of the same coin. (though I DO think it’s funny that the NEUTRAL phrase to refer to either character is “I hate them BUT” because in reasonable fandoms, this is understood inherently….but in this fandom such decorum seems to be lost? For some reason?? Wisdom saga has brought out a lack of wisdom, I fear.) This is the kind of purity culture that suggest you can’t LIKE a character of their a villain, so you go out of your way to argue they aren’t, or that no one else should like them: that’s bonkers. You might disagree and it might even upset you, but that’s a you problem to have.

Having said that, and if you are POSITIVE that you want to engage in conversation with me, you are welcome to do so.

[octahyde]

Groomer in the TWST Fandom

The post in question is going around again, and as someone who was groomed in online fandoms in high school it makes me absolutely fucking livid that they got away with it the first time.

(Please note that I got Doom’s consent before posting this because it indirectly involves them.)

@_snooboots on twitter has publicly groomed minors.

Sno wrote a thread calling out another user, which I am seeing go around again. The thread has plenty of issues (in certain areas they can have legal action taken against them for cyberstalking, speaking from direct experience), but there’s one in particular that sticks out to me.

The most pressing and disturbing part, however, is that they tagged children in uncensored pornographic images.

(as you can see based on the first screenshot, the censorship in the second and third images were added by me.)

After posting several screenshots, many of which had sexual images along with this literal pornography, Sno ends it with tagging several minors (and one adult):

Note that Sno is 19. Also note that the youngest user tagged is fourteen years old, a literal middle schooler.

Though 16 and 19 may not seem like a major age difference where grooming can take place (in many contexts it isn’t!), there are still cases where it can be. Case in point: I started being groomed by a 19 year old online when I was 16, and it lead to horrible, horrible things happening to me once I turned 18.

The amount of similarities this thread has to my own experiences with being groomed at that age is, point blank, extremely fucking uncomfortable. Though mine was in a slightly different context (it being sent as a “joke”), it was still being told Look How Bad This Porn is. Likewise, if Sno really cared, they would have taken 10 seconds to censor the screenshots before posting, like how I did.

Again, it’s important to note: these images were originally posted on a private account where minors could not access them. They were only made publicly and exposed to children when Sno reposted them.

When called out for sending porn to real life minors, they chose to double down:

Apparently tagging children in a twitter thread with graphic, uncensored pornography because “they asked” is “the right thing”. (Note also that they admit they had also exposed these kids to this prior on a locked account, which is very Normal behavior and opens up the possibility that this isn’t the first time they’ve “called someone out” doing this, but that’s just speculation.)

And again, I would like to reiterate, which Sno themself corroborates in these screenshots: these images were originally posted on a locked account, where only adults Doom knew were allowed in. Sno was the one who posted these images publicly.

I’ve been angry and hurt by this since this thread was first posted. Doom deliberately kept these images away from children. In contrast, this person sent the images to children whom would never see them otherwise to “call them out”. Sno absolutely should not or have gotten away with this.

(Also, as a footnote: do not use this post to start some proshipper vs anti tribalism bullshit. While I’m not that anon, I do absolutely hate both sides equally and both do this kind of thing on a regular basis.)

(EDIT: not that it means much at this point but it was pointed out that I was kinda uhhhh a huge hypocrite with the original screenshot of the thread! That’s been censored now too.)

[morganbritton132]

Eddie doesn’t post much over Parents weekend. When he does post, it’s a picture to the Official Corroded Coffin twitter account of Wayne rocking a vintage CC sweatshirt (vintage as in Eddie made it for him before the band even existed).

Overly invested fans don’t have to fret though because whereas Eddie isn’t posting, the kids are.

Every year they fill out bingo cards with Very Specific Things that they think will happen over the course of the weekend and play to see who gets bingo first. This all plays out across their TikTok accounts because the rule is: if you don’t get a video, it didn’t happen (the rule was made after the cheating scandal of 2016).

The game is always centered around whoever is hosting so this round is Steddie-centric. So, no one makes it obvious that Steve’s mom clearly didn’t show up, but if you’re invested enough in his mama drama than you’d pick up on everybody’s effort to keep him engaged enough that he doesn’t really have to think about it.

(1) The first to get a piece on the board are El, Mike, and Lucas. They manage to catch on video Claudia Henderson fully lifting Steve off his feet when she hugs him. You get three different angles of Dustin next to them with the most ‘are you shitting me?’ look on his face because she hugged Steve first.  This is a staple of these events. It happens every time. Everybody had it on their bingo cards but the others didn’t get it on camera. 

(2) Will has ‘Karen says something that would’ve gotten Steve’s neighbor burned at the stake’ on his card. He posts a TikTok of Karen referring to Steve and Eddie’s salt and pepper shakers as ‘kitschy.’ Steve smiles and says, “I know! Eddie picked them out.”

(3) ‘Eddie stands on a table’ was banned from being on the card because it has happened at every single event ever. ‘Eddie falling off a table and being caught by Steve’ however? Very specific. Weird it happened. Lucas gets points, but also a little side eye.

(4)It’s not going to win Erica any points, but she posts a video of her mom talking to Robin about finding her a good man. Now, don’t get her wrong. Sue Sinclair’s LGBT+ ally-ship is only rivaled by Joyce Byers, but she never remembers that Robin is a lesbian and Robin is always too awkward to correct her. It’s like watching two robots have a conversation because Sue mentions that Dustin is single and Robin is just like, “And…short?”

Eddie is not in the video but you can hear his wheezy laugh next to her. Erica’s just like, “Would you use your inhaler or die somewhere else?”

(5)Dustin posts a video of Steve standing by the window, clearly lost in thought as he stares out at the road. You can see Eddie sneaking up from a distance but instead of scaring Steve, he takes him by the hand and spins him around so they’re facing one another. Dustin isn’t close enough to hear what they’re saying but you can hear him mutter ‘gross’ when Eddie presses Steve up against the window to kiss him.

Steve’s the one to pull Eddie towards the stairs going to the studio, but they don’t actually make it down them because Hopper pulls Steve away to talk to him. There’s an argument between the party in the comments of the video of if this counts as ‘Steve and Eddie sneak off to make out like teenagers in the studio’ because they don’t actually succeed in sneaking away.

(6) Every single person playing gets a video of Hopper looking at Eddie and asking if he’s on drugs. Eddie says, “I don’t doOoOo drugs, Dad. It’s just marijuana.”

Dustin gets an extra point for catching Steve’s eye roll. Eddie has repeated that phrase at least a hundred times since Dustin told him about the Russian elevator.

(7) Max and Dustin both score a point with ‘Steve and El pull a “prank” on Eddie’ and it’s just Steve very confidently claiming that he can roll a nat 20 easy-peasy just by rolling the dice in a special way. Eddie obviously calls bullshit and then Steve rolls a 20 three times in a row.

After the fourth time, Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve and then spins around until he spots El on the other side of the room and points at her like “YOU!!!” No one watching understands this video. There are fights in the comments about what the hell is even happening here.

(8) Max is the only one with ‘Eddie says ACAB’ on her card. She posts a video of her handwritten card and then pans the camera up to Eddie. They’re all sitting around a bonfire later in the evening. Steve’s practically in Eddie’s lap as Eddie says, “-exactly what I mean, ACAB! All cops are bastards!”

Steve: Not Hopper

Eddie: Especially Hopper! Are you kidding me? Do you know how much weed he stole from me?

(9) Mike catches Steve and Eddie sharing a cigarette on the front porch later that night. It’s only after someone edits the video to remove the sound of the wind that you can kinda hear Steve say ‘It’s just that this is kinda it, right? I opened the door and she slammed it in my face.’

Most of the conversation is inaudible, but Joyce catching them and taking the cigarette from them is not. Neither is her shooing them back inside and finishing the cigarette herself.

(10) The party members all end up staying the night and everybody sleeps in the living room since Hopper and Joyce have Steve and Eddie’s bedroom and Wayne has the guest room. Steve and Eddie sleep on the couch because Eddie’s back can’t handle the floor. Max and Lucas get an air mattress, and Dustin claims the other side of the couch with El since they’re the only single people there. Everybody else is on the floor

Max wins bingo with a one-two punch the following morning with Mike complaining that Steve stepped on him with his big ass sleepwalking feet and Dustin posting a picture to his Instagram of him, Claudia, and Steve with the caption “best moms a guy could have.”

[ironunderstands]

My reaction (or rather rebuttal) to this amazing theory by Lalody’s lore; and how I think it exposes a problem with theory making in general

Now disclaimer, I would like to start off by saying that this is not an attack on the creator of this video in the slightest. This is a very well researched and thought out theory and I 100% understand why she came to the conclusions she did, even if admittedly I believe they are a bit of a stretch. I also am not here to debunk anything, lore is not my speciality or something I really care about in general, and admittedly I’m not very well versed in it even if I know the basics.

Rather, this post is going to be discussing this theory from a thematic/charaterization perspective, and why I think it’s wrong because of that- as well as how it exposes problems with theory making in general.

This is going to be mostly a stream of consciousness-style rant, and although I recommend you watch that video before reading this (both because it’s a) very good, and b) obviously relevant to the conversation), I’m going to be speaking very generally about the content in it, so you don’t necessarily have to watch it.

Alright, on with my major problem with this theory: ie, never in a million goddamn years would it make THEMATICALLY make for our dear Veritas Ratio to willingly become an aeon

His whole character is about being human and humanity man

Ratio, in essence, is the most human character in Honkai Star Rail, and I don’t mean that literally, as there’s reason to believe he isn’t.

Rather, him (as well as Aventurine and Acheron) are characters that embody the human spirit/what it means to be human.

I could talk about them at length later, but in Ratio’s case, the story makes a point that despite how remarkable his life and achievements are, he is still at his core, human, mundane, and not unique in the face of the universe- that is what makes him INTERESTING.

He objectively has amazing accomplishments- ones which by far qualify him to be a member of the Genius Society- Lalody mentions it herself (and thank god for that).

However, every step Ratio takes, he reaffirms his humanity and mundanity- LITERALLY

He calls himself a Mundanite constantly- hell he made a whole secret society of them, he believes that any person, fool or genius is capable of living their life to the fullest, and he dedicates his time trying to help them rather than chasing the stars himself. Ratio is very self aware, admitting he’s not good with people and can be rather abrasive, admitting he knows how he comes off to others, but refusing to change despite that because that’s who he is. His opening a chest voiceline has him saying that he accepts the material offer it values- like any man would. Never in Ratio’s life has he distanced himself or put himself above others, and the quest introducing him is called the MUNDANE and the Divine for a reason.

At his core, Ratio is no different from any other person and that’s what makes his objective exceptionality meaningful. He’s a character that smacks you in the face with how even the average person can achieve great things in live- that creativity and intelligence aren’t limited to Geniuses- aren’t limited to those acknowledged by Nous, by the divine.

Hell, that’s something I ripped straight out of his first character story because at his core this is who Ratio IS

He is a rejection of the divine- not an embrace of it

To make Ratio an Aeon would take everything he stands for away, and be a direct spit in the face to how inspiring he is both in universe and for the players.

Making a character whose whole thing is saying “you do not need to be extraordinary to do great things,” and then going “hah psych he’s a god actually and this is unachiveable for normal people, just like every other genius- you know, the people he stands against!” would just suck. It would suck. I don’t have more intelligent words for this other than saying that doing THAT would suck ass.

It’s not that Ratio couldn’t become an Aeon, it’s that he would never WANT to be one. It would be the most tragic thing ever to do to him, and would hurt him in every way possible to do so. Tearing him away from the thing he cares about the most, from what defines him as a person would be worse than killing him off in my opinion, and in universe he would hate that more too.

There’s several reasons why he doesn’t like the Genius Society, and their disconnect from humanity is one of them. Hell, when Screwllum invited him to work together, Ratio instead of centering the project in aeons, chooses to focus on people instead. Screwllum likens them to both ends of the spectrum- with himself and the rest of the Genius’s exploring Divinity, and Ratio Humanity- or rather Mediocrity.

That’s also why me and my Screwllum loving friend believe that in “The Mundane and the Divine,” Ratio is the Mundane and Screwllum the Divine, so to make both of them divine would ruin that dichotomy, and the whole opposites thing he currently has going on with Screwllum, Ruan Mei, and the Genius Society in general.

If he’s an aeon- if he’s divine too, then who is left to be the mundane?

2) Why is he stealing Ruan Mei’s and Acheron’s nachos

If any of our playable characters are going to become an Aeon, it’s her for obvious reasons. From a meta perspective, pulling that same shit twice or robbing Ruan Mei of the plot line she deserves and slapping it onto Ratio is cheap and stupid, especially considering he’s her narrative foil which only again goes to prove that it wouldn’t make sense for him.

As for Acheron, the reason I mention her is because the only Aeon I can actually see Ratio becoming is the Existence- who a) probably already exists b) finding them is her storyline anyways, and if anyone is going to become them, it will be her c) although I absolutely believe Ratio’s personal philosophy is incredibly similar to Acherons, they’d actually have to interact on screen once before it would make sense for that to happen.

Either way, the theory itself is an interesting premise, but there are far better characters to ascribe it to, which leads into my final point.

3) Why the hell would the writers do this?

Just because they can doesn’t mean they should, and from a thematic and character perspective, I have already gone over why if they care to actually do his character justice, they would never ever consider making Ratio an aeon, unless it’s against his will or something.

Which is why I think this video is actually an exemplar of the problem with theory making in all fandoms now a days- ie; people don’t actually stop to consider whether their theories make sense in the story.

And I don’t mean logically. Honestly I’m going to call this the Game Theory Effect because they do it better than anyone- just because something can happen in a story doesn’t mean it should.

The writers could make Ratio an Aeon, they could go “oops it was all a dream” again in Penacony and local astrophysicists could theorize on how I managed to throw a brick at my computer at light speed. They could do literally anything and justify it in the process because HSR is a work of fiction, but that does not mean the story itself would be good.

This is more of a criticism of how people approach storytelling in general, seeing media only for their plots and not for their themes, which is frustrating beyond words, because at least in my opinion, the most interesting parts of stories are their themes. Also, I feel that when debunking theories, people should focus less about the logic behind them, and more about whether they would actually make sense or not to be involved.

Moreover, Lalody’s video raises some very interesting ideas, and it’s caused me to think of a storyline involving similar elements- but in an opposite direction.

What if Ratio was initially Divine- but willingly became Mundane. Maybe it wasn’t willing and he was forced to be this way, but either way, it would make far more sense- and be far more interesting- if we see him reject divinity rather than embracing it.

It’s no secret Ratio’s lore is sort of a black hole at the moment, which is half the reason why so many crazy theories about him exist- we barely know anything about the guy personally. However, I’d liked to see it filled in a way that doesn’t completely demolish his current character, or who he literally is currently, as I rather like Ratio in his present form, and a bait and switch might actually drive me a bit nuts, just saying.

There’s plenty of speculation to be had, especially considering that one Cosmodyssey occurrence that haunts my every waking hour game please explain, but I’d like the hsr community to move away from the “Ratio is super special and extraordinary” direction, because what makes him interesting is the fact that he ISN’T

[burningfairytales]

On Bokuto being Fukurodani’s captain

I promised myself I wouldn’t make another Bokuto defence post, but I’ve been reliably informed the Fukurodani tag is lacking posts and I’m here to contribute.

We’ve probably all seen it - the post that is like, “every captain acts like a father figure to their team, and then there’s Fukurodani”

And I mean, it’s funny. It got a good chuckle out of me, too, because that is how jokes work. Jokes have to be funny, they don’t necessarily have to be true.

Because yes. For Karasuno, whose line-up consists of three first-years, and the dynamic duo Tanaka-and-Noya, sure, Daichi is more of a father figure. So is Kuroo, I suppose, for Nekoma (though where Daichi is the tough-love kind of dad, I see Kuroo as the “hey x, i’m dad” kind of person.)

And it works for them, because that’s what those teams need.

They’re young. They’re chaotic. They need a voice of reason (Karasuno) or, failing that, at least someone who’s capable of mediating in a fight. Who’s willing to tell the children to suck it up and make up, even if they weren’t in the wrong (Nekoma).

A captain should be what the team needs, after all.

But that is not how Fukurodani works.

Fukurodani has a completely different dynamic than Nekoma and Karasuno. Sure, they bicker. They probably fight, too. But listen. Save Akaashi and Onaga, the entire team is made up of third years - and we all know that in terms of maturity, Akaashi is on their level if not higher.

(Sorry Onaga. I’m afraid I don’t know enough about him yet to include him in that statement. Doesn’t come across as particularly childish either, for what it’s worth!)

So you’ve got an elite team. A team of more-or-less adults. The millennial kind of of adults, maybe - the “i need an adultier adult” kind. But a team of people who know when it’s okay to fool around and when it’s time to call it quits.

In a team like that, what use is a father figure?

And then there’s Bokuto.

Bokuto who is very much not mature at all. Bokuto who doesn’t know when to stop, when to call it quits. Bokuto who goes out to play not for the sake of winning, but to enjoy playing. To have fun. Winning is just the result of that.

Bokuto who looks at his teammates and gives them permission to just fool around and have fun, just for the sake of it. Want to try a cool spike? Great! It worked? That’s awesome, teach me how to do it.

Didn’t work? Too bad, try again.

Bokuto who gently and sometimes not-so-gently pushes his team. Try harder. Do better. Not because it’s disappointing if they don’t, but because it’s more fun if they do - because Bokuto firmly believes that they can.

Fukurodani is a great team. An elite team. They know they’re good. Maybe sometimes, just “good” feels like enough to them - but never to Bokuto. If you run three laps today, you might make it to four tomorrow. Maybe five laps the day after.

Bokuto is the kind of person who reaches, who moves forward, who doesn’t want to stop improving.

He’s also the kind of person who motivates his teammates to try harder simply because that’s what he does. They don’t want to fall behind. If Bokuto can do it, then so can we.

I think it’s such in important scene, at the end of the match against Mujinazaka, when Bokuto shakes hands with Kiryuu - not just because, despite their loss, Kiryuu can honestly say that he’s glad he played his last match against Bokuto, though I’d say that says a lot about Bokuto in general. It’s not a bad thing, losing to him. It’s sad - of course it’s sad, but it’s not frustrating. They played a good game. Hell, they had fun. It’s an acceptable loss.

But the really important part, to me, is when Bokuto holds onto his hand and tells him, “you should tell your team to give you better tosses. Even if it’s asking too much. You should still do it.”

Because not only does that show that Bokuto isn’t an idiot - he’s very much aware of what goes on on the field. He noticed that most of those tosses sucked. Kiryuu is amazing for managing to hit those, and Bokuto isn’t afraid of telling him that.

And it’s not even that he’s telling his opponent, hey, you’re already pretty incredibly and you could spike better if the set-up worked in your favour. (Because contrary to what seems a popular opinion, Bokuto’s “I’m the best!” Doesn’t mean “everyone else sucks.” I don’t understand why people tend to make him egoistical. Bokuto stops at nothing to tell others when they’re doing well and compliment them.)

No, the really important part of that exchange is that Bokuto is also saying, you aren’t letting your team improve if you keep letting them keep get away with this.

And it’s true, isn’t it. You can help your classmate cheat or do your coworker’s work for them - it saved them in that moment, maybe, but they will not learn. You’re taking away their opportunity for improvement.

Kiryuu can tell his team, it’s okay if your tosses are shit, I will hit them anyway. But at the end of the day, those tosses are still going to be shit. It doesn’t make them better players, and if any of them want to keep playing after high school they’re going to be in a lot of trouble, because not everyone will be able to hit them - or be even willing to try.

So no, Bokuto is about the farthest thing from a father figure. But he pushed his team to do better. Forces them to pick up the pace one way of another, sometimes maybe through his bad moods, but also by motivating them to stop accepting “good” as “good enough.”

And look, I’m not completey oblivious. I’m fairly certain Bokuto is probably not great at handling the official side of being captain - club applications and funding requests and whatever needs handling. But he’s not doing it alone, is he?

And of course Akaashi is impressive, making vice-captain as a second year. And I’m willing to bet Bokuto was the first to insist he’d have to do it.

So you’ve got the captain who pushes and the vice-captain who keeps things level. I’d say that’s the kind of team Fukurodani needs as their captains, don’t you?