#while none of it is illegal it's just nasty and not at all how a cc with that much experience and age should ever act with fans

[sheepwasfound]

yeah not happy with that response whatsoever

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 185 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: cutting the jasmine in my garden.

"So when she turned and saw them standing there, so official in their vests and helmets, what else was she to think? Ah, thank goodness, it flitted through her mind as Tina felt herself relax, whatever it is, someone is taking care of it. Because that’s what they were for, to take care of these problems, to shuffle people away for their own protection, and keep the world working as it should be." There is an episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, when Will and Carlton drive the car of a friend of the Banks' family somewhere to meet up, and being two black young men in a nice car, they of course get pulled over. Will already knows what this means, but Carlton (while being black has still lived a rather privileged life because of his dad's wealth, private school, country club, a butler etc.) was super oblivious about the officer's suspicions and intentions. I always have to think of this episode when I think about MAG 185.

"This did not happen to people like her." I mean, I do think MAG 185 isn't about the typical racial profiling per se, more about it happening to people who think of themselves to be so privileged and safe from police brutality, that they never would have guessed it could also happen to them?

"It had all been there, all of it. Her life, her loves, her choices, her mistakes. No details spared, no nasty inference ignored." That's one of the domains, that can't be sorted that easily. This is clearly Eye, and even before Tina was arrested she felt like being watched. Then the identical looking police men who arrested her sound like the Stranger. That thing with the world just carrying on without her and even if there are people noticing, they antagonize her like the girl hurling a stone at her and the father quickly shooing her away in terror could be Lonely?

"'None of these things are illegal,' she had said." And Spiral?

Hmm, I mean yeah, that statement had rather few fantastical things happening which makes it seem more realistic and not like a supernatural, impossible twisting of reality.

MARTIN: "No it’s just… Is that how these creatures see us now? As one of them?" JON: [Amused] "I forgot that’s a new experience for you." MARTIN: "Excuse me?" JON: "You have to remember I’ve had this for years. Right from the start, it’s always been ‘Archivist’ this and ‘Archivist’ that. All these weird, awful creatures assuming I’m ‘in’ on all the secrets. Even when they were trying to kill me, they treated me like I was a… a peer." Hm yeah, we know it because we're seen primarily Jon's story, but there are big chunks of information missing for Martin (especially S3 and 4). Even though he was there when he was been addressed as "Archivist" for the first time. Or for the first two times? Elias singing "dear Archivist" at Jon's birthday, and then when Prentiss texted him (lol, that sounds funny...)

JON: "Not all of them. And now? Sure the power’s shifted, it’s all politeness and respect, but it still feels just like more of the same. I guess I just stopped caring at some point. Besides they are technically right, I am one of them. To a degree." Yeah, in the beginning they were like "Ohhhh, did I hurt the poor young Archivist? What'cha gonna do? You're gonna cry? Gonna run to Elias?". Then after the coma it's suddenly "What are you doing... Stop it!" and now they're full on Schrödinger's douchbag with "Pls don't kill me, I didn't mean it! It was just a joke!"

MARTIN: "It’s not the same. I’m still just your ‘plus one’." JON: [Amusedly] "Don’t put yourself down. It’s not your fault you’re a bit overshadowed. I am such a very big deal after all." MARTIN: "Oh, very big arse, more like it." Lol

JON: "Either way, even if I wasn’t here, I don’t think you’d be in any danger. Not anymore. I wasn’t sure when we first started out, I hadn’t properly, er… looked into it, as it were. But now I’m certain." Still, I think Jon actually did mean the "I won't let it [harm you]" in MAG 161. He would have fought tooth and nail if he had to in order to protect Martin.

MARTIN: "I’m one of them." JON: "One of… us." MARTIN: "That’s not as comforting as you think it is." JON: "Doesn’t mean it’s not true though." Still a bit in denial^^

MARTIN: "Even though I didn’t ask for it? Did nothing to deserve it?" JON: "‘Deserve’. Huh. Now there’s a word that always causes trouble." MARTIN: "Don’t be patronising." JON: "I just mean that nobody here deserves the position they’ve found themselves in, not really. I suppose a few may have asked for it, sought it out even, but far more didn’t. They just made the wrong choices for the right reasons. Or even the right choices. But ones that still led them here in the end." NOT REALLY! Also, yes, more philosophizing about morals, I love that shit!

INSPECTOR: "Argh! Look, you can’t know if they’re all guilty, alright? It’s just about evidence…" Right, so if that one's here in this domain, then was Tina in the statement really that innocent? "None of these things are illegal" can mean a lot of things.

INSPECTOR: "Hey, fuck you, you scrawny little tit! What the hell do you know?" Luckily, there are a lot of awful people out there who, sooner or later, will show their true face in public (And then this becomes a whole new problem when the majority of society can’t understand why that was wrong...). Also, we got a bit of physical description of Jon there! I never really gave anything to Nikola's "little Archivist" in MAG 97, I thought she meant it in a belittling way. But Jon get's called "little" again, so I guess there's something to it xD Also, we knew he's not the fittest since he gets tired from carrying a metal pipe around, but another confirmation here, boy's scrawny!

MARTIN: "No, you were right to. That’s… that’s a lot of power to have to deal with. Lot of responsibility." JON: "Yes, thank you, Uncle Ben." MARTIN: [Chuckle] "Pop culture? Really?" JON: "I’m allowed to know what Spiderman is." Even if Jon embodies this old fashioned dark academia look, I don't think that's him at all and people just misjudge him. He's been a bookworm in his childhood after all!

MARTIN: "Not helping people is still a decision, isn’t it?" JON: "Well, you saw Jordan, I’m not sure ‘helping’ is –" MARTIN: "I know, I know, not the right word. Ignoring them then." JON: "Yes. It’s a choice I’ve been making a lot recently." MARTIN: "I guess we should get used to it. Knowing that all these awful things are happening for our benefit." JON: "Maybe it’s better if it never gets comfortable." MARTIN: "Maybe." Huh, that's a thought you can convert to rl. The luxury we live in first world countries is sustained at poorer country's cost. And it's so hard to fight this, to try and get resources, which were traded fairly or get them locally. And if you can find something like that, then you need to be able to afford it because these things are of course a lot more expensive than the exploited thing.

Heh, how that familiar Lonely squealing already starts and Martin immediately noticing^^

That is a really cool cliffhanger. Not only teasing Martin's domain, but Martin and Jon being separated in a Lonely domain, again!  

@a-mag-a-day

[that-one-scorpia-kinnie]

The Former Horde Soldiers Discovering New Things part 2: Real food

So as we know, nice things and basic necessities were basically illegal in the Horde, so the Former Horde soldiers grew up only eating ration bars. So the concept of real food is completely strange to all of them at first.

I headcanon that after the war when the Horde disbanded, it took a while for them to get used to real food, and for the first few months, most of them (except for Adora who tried real food almost immediately after meeting Bow and Glimmer) ate bar shaped foods or foods that resembled ration bars as they were pretty nervous of trying new foods (even though ration bars probably taste like utter shit and they can't even be that good for you). But I think the first bit of real food they tried were those dumplings some of the characters ate in one of the season 5 episodes, and slowly the former Horde soldiers begin to get used to real foods.

Although none of them can handle food with the SLIGHTEST bit of spice. They all think salt is spicy. Seeing people put salt or pepper on their food baffles all of the former Horde soldiers. For the first few months at least. I think over time they become more tolerant to spices and herbs.

However, none of them know how to cook. Scorpia tries to, but she mostly ends up burning everything. But she tries and that's all that matters.

They also all eat really quickly, as in the Horde they most likely had to eat their rations quickly before getting back to training or some shit, so for like the first month they're just inhaling the food they get in like a minute flat, and everyone else is like "Oh my ra, please slow down guys, ya food isn't gonna go anywhere-" and once they begin slowing down, they begin enjoying the food, albeit still getting used to food not tasting like nasty stuff.

As for favourite foods they've tried (feel free to give your own headcanons too):

Adora really likes ice cream and her favourite flavour is probably cookies n cream. No specific reason but she just strikes me as a cookies n cream girl.

Scorpia's fave is either stew or mac and cheese. But she HATES leafy greens (which is canon) and is a picky eater overall, as she gets nervous when trying new things. But when she discovers sweets/candy, she is BEDAZZLED. She especially likes cotton candy and the feeling of it melting in her mouth, so Perfuma always buys her lil buckets of cotton candy, but Scorpia has to be very careful when picking out the cotton candy with her big claws, and she needs to have it little by little, as her tastebuds aren't used to sweet things in large quantities. (I thank my friend @spam-t0n for this headcanon.)

Catra for some reason really likes cheese. Just cheese on its own, like she'll just eat from a bag of shredded/grated cheese like it's nobody's business. But she REFUSES to touch a carrot, let alone eat one.

"But Catra they're good for you-"

"Does it look like I give a shit? I survived a fucking WAR, I think I can live without those orange death sticks."

Kyle likes pineapple on pizza, the poor fuck. (No hate to pineapple on pizza or people who like it, I myself am pretty neutral on the debate on whether it should be a thing)

I feel like Lonnie would like tacos. I dunno I can just imagine her enjoying tacos but getting mildly annoyed when they fall apart.

Rogelio, being a lizard, would probably be okay with eating bugs, but I read a fanfic where he liked chocolate-covered crickets. Whatever floats your boat Rogelio.

Huntara (cause she used to be a Horde soldier too) has probably been living off of bugs and survival food due to living in the Crimson Waste, but I can imagine she likes the taste of honey cause I read a fanfic about it once.

.

Side note, because my OC Teddy is good at cooking and baking, I can imagine, when they eventually become comfortable around them, (as Teddy is a very shy person and it usually takes them a while to come around) Teddy begins making breakfast for the former Horde soldiers sometimes. Most likely homemade waffles and fresh fruit, and it becomes sort of a weekly thing.

[nando161mando]

"While many will dismiss this story as "local politics turned nasty," I think it's worth taking a second look here because the situation being described in this piece, sits at the intersection of two important forces that aren't really being covered in for-profit media very well, but can and will continue to impact your life. Specifically the police being the biggest fascist gang around, and the authoritarian turn in our society being directed by politicians and court officials who feel beholden to nobody, and fear no consequences for doing fascist nonsense whatsoever:

The short story here is, a confidential source contacts a local paper in Kansas with incriminating documents about a powerful local restaurant owner who had kicked the paper's reporters out of a public forum with Jake LaTurner, GOP fascist congressman. The paper verifies the info as true, but smells something off, and CONTACTS the police, without running the story. The restaurant owner then complains publicly at a city council meeting that the newspaper had "illegally obtained and disseminated sensitive documents" - which they objectively did NOT do; they never ran the story. Naturally, this then forces the paper to do exactly what the local big-wheel just accused them of doing in the public sphere; print everything.

The *very* next day, every cop in town (no really) shows up at the paper with a bogus, blatantly fucking illegal warrant provided by yet another crony, this time a judge, and proceeds to take literally everything the paper needs to do their jobs - computers, cellphones, records, the whole shebang. The paper has vowed to continue publishing, but as the owner of the outlet notes - this is very clearly authoritarian meddling with the press of the kind that rubes don't believe happens in America. Some of you are going to say things like "I don't understand why they think they'd get away with it," but the whole point is that they already have - the message "don't you dare fuck with us" has already been sent, and their critics are already on the backfoot just trying to publish. The GOP/official fascists in this town are not going to win down the line in court, but they don't care - and because they will suffer no consequences for these actions at all, not the cops, not the politically powerful restaurant owner, not the GOP fascist, or the pig judge, it does not matter to them that none of this will hold up in court, long term. Maybe someone sues the state, who gives a crap? They certainly don't and they won't pay the settlement themselves at all.

That I think, is the key takeaway here if I'm being honest. You can cling to the standards and norms, to rights-based discourse, to a legal system that might somewhere down the line get the answer right. But you don't get to call that justice, and you don't get to pretend that this is doing anything to stop official fascists in power all across the country, from just trying it, and progressing their venomous ideology and ongoing power grab, because they can. The cops went along with this because they're fascists, and they have no accountability. The judge too. They don't care. They're not afraid of your systems because your systems are not built to punish official fascists and affluent people with political connections. You can't "kinda, sorta, but not really" make this right, down the line, and pretend the fash aren't still winning; no matter how often they eventually lose in court."

#Fascism #Kansas #Media #GOPfascists

[diabolocracy]

Absofuckinglutely hate how I can't freely experiment with drugs and my own fucking body because some asshats who don't even know me thinks drugs are bad and made it into a law. Instead I have to learn how to produce my own, grow my own, or find my own, all which hinges upon luck and whether or not I can find the things I need to do so.

Technically legal alternatives are there ('high spice') but they're even worse than, say, magic mushies. Nutmeg (myristicin), something I used for a year, was great... Until I ended up fainting one day from, I guess, using it too much, in spite of practicing harm reduction (no coffee while intoxicated, spacing use ~2 weeks between). I didn't even take as much as some do (kept to 1.5tbs per use).

Benadryl, if you take enough at one time, is a nightmarish hallucinogen. It can also increase the risk of dementia even if you use it how it's supposed to be used.

To my knowledge, none of the illegal hallucinogens (dmt, lsd, shrooms) are as nasty. Shrooms can help depression, there's fucking research for it. There are people who report a longterm positive effect after a trip that increased the quality of their life. I read an anecdote about some programmer who took shrooms and saw a menu wherein he literally turned off his fear of heights, an effect which persisted.

Why is this illegal? Because some people go into it and have a bad trip that might negatively effect them for just as long?

OTC and other legal medications can cause negative things too. Ibuprofen can cause an FDE, I had a friend whose kidneys gave out after they took Tylenol (which is indeed linked to kidney impairment with overuse). Recreationally--well, we all know the dangers of alcohol and cigarettes (but did you know the smoke that clings to your clothing is a carcinogen that effects the people around you?). Caffeine is an addictive stimulant that can result in dependency. Here's an antibiotic that can just kill you. Here's some more. Even the covid vaccination can cause, say, VITT. Sorry, not even that one's entirely safe! If your genetics are just the right way, even that can straight-up fucking kill you!

But so can pretty much every other chemical, drug, vaccine, or whatever else you can put into your body. Allergies can develop so suddenly that one day it's safe to eat shrimp and the next day you're on the floor unable to breathe and you don't know why.

Which is why it annoys the absolute shit out of me that I can choose to gamble with blistering rashes, kidney impairment, sudden death and bloodclots, but not the possibility of improving my mental health by shoving some shrooms in my mouth or dropping a tab of acid while being assured about the quality and safety of the product all because some uptight old man made a law criminalizing my poison of choice.

[chanelfunnell]

Mail

A) anon, Kaner's son Max Domi and so Seth Jones are playful and keen to join any activity with Tazer or Blackhawks. Kaner is home body now. I was surprised that S Jones kicks by his left foot.

B) anon, a lot of dogs are cute and I like a lot of dogs of a lot of nhlers across the franchises. On the photos lol

C) anon,

Auston Matthews with a beard, looking weird with his p..rn stache.. Play offs facial hair is the worst look.

D) anon, there is just a pyckbunny history for Markle and an anon weirdo writing me about nonsense mixing flat caps, Harry, his warmonger friend Langdon and something about Hossa's whirlpool.., Marketa. Id steer away from any bs and dangerous people such as a arm smuggler Mann. Any bs outside ice hockey and unelected ruling class with lazy mean women such as Markle, Middleton or Camilla. Markle should pay for her all wedding costs, dresses and idiotic Mount battens should not allow her to have a big scale wedding in the church.. Old fartvking is smuggling more than 10.000 euros in the bags compared to self made Snoopy Dog with own cash and Marketa as a royal is denied and as self made biz girl bulkier and mocked by lazy gold diggas with it a buck such as Camilla or bulimic Kate. Read her mother's response in the suit how Kate hired as a simple idiot with just interest in clothes and media a media lawyer woman called Prince lol for a nominee trust.

These idiots have no clue that it is not in estate registrar but shluld f.. Ck offg ASAP from her estates like ugky Wisteria sister Pippa no own bucks pushes people for stepping on the lawn just for an inch. Stupid, vapid, no work, no dowry, no class. Not just a puppet Harry as Montecito laughs from him. Market's long term bf lawyer's family reside here, Markle is a stalker gold digga but she keeps quiet. So should drug junkie Harry Goldsmith who was sent to speak by his nasty abuser sister Carol to rant in the tabs. So like old bag Camilla's posing in tabs but none work done.

Check Princess Anne and her typical work as normal, Marketa waiting in the wings and app somd idiots mesee her surname Windsor and denied her election and mocked for self made status. What I know Kate wrote to Christian Ronaldo on Myspace after Marketa's presence at Red carpet of Pirates of Carribeans. All ugky, lazy, mean posing mean girls without money, class, typical with barking druggie uncle. Arm dealer loon like Mann as Harry Hewitt's company is dangerous so the Mountvaten and their gold digging mean chavs's toxicity, greed and unelected status or non royal origin and nothing on their own merit than shagging deluded royal farts.

OK athletes are trashy, posing and in chains but money made by them and with common sense than any common mugger like these women from Markle to Middleton women or Vamilka. Read the Middleton response in suit, to self accomplished workhorse who is a princess. Worse than climbing caste obsessed pushy mother with two Cinderella's ugky sisters camping illegally at the princess kand. We know Markle is a psycho but both of the d just mean, trashing other girls, heading rich men using the bed than own work, actually no dowry or manners, lazy, spiteful, stupid fir b assic PR. Not just Harry who is definitely a cavalry officer's son not a Prince. His father published similar book, all crybabies but trolled M or others keep quiet. These mean women just add them more like cross Che King a super player in NHL while they are a pond hickey hoikers. They ask a brother druggie like Hunter if friends or trashy star to pitch their appraisal to press how perfect and Saint they are. So Markle. Do you think Marketa's ex bf of 8 years lawyer from wealthy US family has no clue what these nasty women in law, a king and Harry are about? Markle present in Russian House yet borrowing other houses for her personality PR. So these crazy useless Mount battens and their penniless climbing gold diggas. Harry has attached dangerous people to his hip, the rest is atrache with their puckbubnued and own stupidity. Do you think they would make if in profi sport and into the bed a wag? Lol not apable or just plain or just ugly looking and too desperate chasers. King Charles was app kicked from Birkhall that is a part of Marketa's Balmoral estate. Well done, they are just greedy liars croks parasites joining forces with similar tuned charlatans and gold diggas. Their ancestor was stupid Alix Tsarina meddling into anything but lacking basic skill like never working media posers Camilla, Catherine.. Also her blind obsession with charlatan Rasputin reminds us old history. No surprise two bimbos Markle and Middleton are fighting about clothes, both looking either unkempt or frumpy after acts of flash, crotch shots or naked selfies luring their idiots into the bed, their only claim to anything such as money, house, standing in society, claim to fame lol. Spare me, so spare tyres... If not less paid, the land lady abused so kicked out. It is the same with no results, no t playing. If you are paid 5 mils bucks you need to deliver on the ice as well as juicy bits in the book and PR. That idiot has anything to sell and run buz bcs hardly able to run a ware tap and so their bimbos

[renatedagmarmilada]

a rocket for a satelite

This tale is about guilt and evil!

Anna of Human Research St Barths would have got a rocket if their deeds of past and present had been discovered then they even put me on a satellite to the Big Apple a little housewife caring for her family setting off the alarms at Santa Monika!

Aggressive, intrusive and all the other evil ‘ives

Interruptions into lives, over tv, music and the rest Interventions into lives, over tv, music and the rest Intervening into lives, over tv, music and the rest Interjections into lives, over tv, music and the rest even causing deaths! and not even intermittently Internationally now called globally, into lives, over tv, music and the rest Interpolating lies into lives, over tv, music and the rest Interposing reality with their crazed virtual reality Interpreting with their nasty, evil minds all things pure and impure allowing no interventions by the good and helpful Interweaving their rubbish with our solid good

destroying the fabric of so many lives destroying so many lives!

caught red handed beaming looped all over the place everyone viewed so the blacking began none of us knew with Royal Prerogative to boot sadistic as never before war by the most powerful against a tiny family living quiet lives and the population at large.

“Give me all you’ve got,” said Steven from Kaspar and Kissinger lying even to them! Anna is sadistic enough the quacks corrupt enough our girls sadistic enough our health workers evil enough for the ‘phase-out’ to work to turn life into a living hell for this one tiny family (called British style pressure we didn’t know) who aren’t even aware can’t even imagine such crap from a professional body, supposedly and only just grasping how evil Brits can be after two decades (an Arab business man escaped to Dublin they did some of this to him too and others)

Use this little family for all illegal physical experiments totally outlawed in the States.

Ring round the worst practitioners ask them to come and practice using our whole system globally using the family totally everyone use them!

cripple,  maime, manslaughter, raise havoc isolate, alienate, rob, cheat and all the rest all at once, gang bang, go!

Involving Ministries the lovers of Anna will destroy life’s fabric and their careful little savings leaving them nothing after we’ve done. (the family still don’t know while she tries to think what have we done wrong?)

Using their professional status every company on the isle to cheat, syphon and allow robbery by all the students and lab workers closing all loopholes some old codger at the Lords allowed cheating on the little family give prison sentences and massive fines low and no marks for academic work then give the work to one of ours and they wonder why the country runs wild nothing ever returned or sorted not even nostalgia and paintings robbed by protected pilfering or the post not allowed!

Just a mum, kids, and scared grandparents stateless refugees of before kids born over here, british father don’t know where to flee in this closed off bordered world The liberation wasn’t worse allow no recompense

All for compensation which the jewish Health Minister feared would be a job of millions the family knew nothing about!

Now you understand Burnt ground and guilt effects and that old saying lie once lie thrice… That evil crew got away with it all made themselves rich with it and trained semi literates to cruelty with the States blessings. any one who helped them has been sent on the ladder up by them regardless of talent or suitability even copying all academic and creative works for all the lab, (jews copying our jewish memories from little Slovakia as their own! ugh…) quacks families and friends new artists they have created none with any talent all at the top and a few famous they’ve used these Stars for safety told them odd tales about me and mine (‘I wish you to rob my work, I am a retarded person who has gone to University’ eh?) now have to silence me and shun so their shame should never be known!

Thank God for American poetry sites which still allow free speech.

[mypoisonedvine]

The Wrong Idea | Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: you weren’t exactly a rebel in the eyes of the law, but that didn’t mean you cared for the corrupt, alcoholic town sheriff.  and that certainly didn’t mean you would care at all for him marrying your mother.  if only you’d known how much worse it could get...

word count: 4.5k

warnings: smut!! (heavy dubcon/noncon), age gap (reader is 19), stepcest, loss of virginity, pain kink, creampie kink, infidelity, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, choking, slapping, daddy kink, authority kink, subtle ddlg themes?, reader’s mom being toxic af

You’d never cared for the Sheriff.  Even you, being generally a well-behaved young woman, thought he was a little too intense and a little too corrupt.  Up until now, you’d assumed your mother agreed with you on that, because she never protested to your complaints about Sheriff Bodecker and his ‘fascist reign of terror’ as you called it.  Apparently that was a poor assumption, though.

“You… what?!”

“I never told you we were seein’ each other because I knew you had your childish rebellion against him and his police force,” your mother explained with a demeaning eyeroll.  “But now that we’re engaged, I can’t hide it anymore.”

“How long has this been going on?” you asked quietly, still in shock at what you were hearing— and unable to take your eyes off of the sparkling diamond wrapped around her finger.

“Oh, I’d say… about two months now,” she decided.

“Two—” you stopped and started over, so bewildered that you couldn’t finish your original sentence.  “You’re engaged after two months?”

“Don’t make that face at me, you look so ugly when you scowl like that,” she frowned.  Of course, she could never miss an opportunity to nag you.  “He’s a respectable man, and he treats me well.  The wedding is in three weeks— and he’s generous enough to let you live with us after that.  Says there’s a spare bedroom for you in his house.”

“His… his house…” you slurred, suddenly feeling light-headed.  “I’m… we’re moving…?”

“Yes, honey, and with your work ethic it’ll take you the whole three weeks to pack up, so you should start now,” she informed you with that cruel, fake smile of hers.

She walked away as you sat down on the couch, staring off into space, trying to comprehend what you just heard.  It’s not like you thought your mother was flawless or anything, or that you and her had a perfect relationship, but you thought she would’ve been a little more… gentle about all this.  She could do better than him anyways!  But she didn’t care about that, only money and status.  You could almost laugh at her small-mindedness to think the Sheriff of a nothing-town like Knockemstiff was actually plentiful in either of those things, but right now you couldn’t laugh.  You couldn’t even cry as you packed your things and said goodbye to the home you’d known your whole life.  You were just numb.

//

You couldn’t look him in the eye when you arrived at his house, duffel bags in hand and shoes stained with the dry red dirt of summer.  It was nicer than your old place, and if it were anyone else’s you’d say it had charm, but everything was tainted because you knew it was his.  You could sort of tell that this had been his bachelor pad for a while, but it had a half-assed attempt at hominess with the rug in the living room and a centerpiece on the kitchen table.  He even had a TV, presumably funded by bribes and all his other nefarious dealings— meaning you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to watch it.

“Nice to meet ya, properly,” Lee greeted, though his monotone didn’t come across as particularly impassioned.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” you mumbled quickly, hoping to get this conversation over with.

“You don’t have to call me Sheriff anymore, you know.  Not in the house, at least.”

You nodded but said nothing, following him as he motioned for you and moved into the hallway.  You trailed behind him, noticing the eerie lack of any personal effects on the walls (no family photos, apparently, and not much of a family to photograph in the first place from what you’d heard), and stopped when he reached the door at the end.

“This is your room,” Lee informed you stiffly.  Opening the door, you were horrified by the assault on your eyes of pink.  Pink everything: pink wallpaper, a pink fuzzy quilt, pink bedframe.  There were even assorted stuffed animals on the bed, disturbingly enough.

“When my mother told you she had a daughter, did she not mention that I was grown?”

“You may be nineteen, honey, but you’re nowhere near grown,” he scowled.  “She didn’t tell me she had a daughter until two days before the weddin’.  This is what I managed to... improvise, since then.”

You almost had sympathy for him, just in that you two were both victims of your mother’s eccentricity.  Almost.  

“Must’ve inherited your expensive taste from your ma,” he frowned.  “Sorry, princess—” the nickname made his lips curl like the word itself tasted sour— “but this’ll have to do.”

“Oh, I’m nothing like her,” you sneered back, “cause I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

“What are you two chatting about?” your mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

Both of you answered at the same time: “Nothing!” 

With a grimace, you dragged your bag into the room and shut the door in his face.  It was those little acts of rebellion that had to tide you over.  You weren’t audacious enough to do anything actually cruel, or illegal, but you weren’t going to make this any easier for him.

At first it was just refusing to leave your room.  That worked for a week, until you realized you were going to starve to death.  So then the only times you saw him were at the dinner table, which you made into a protest by pretending he didn’t exist and refusing to answer his questions.  You occasionally relented when he asked you to pass something from your side of the table, but you never looked at him while you did it.  

He didn’t seem angry or sad about your determination to avoid him, if anything it seemed like he was happy to pretend you weren’t there either.  And that should’ve made it easier, but for some reason it bothered you even more.  You realized that maybe his attention did matter to you, even though it was negative attention that you were hoping to inspire, but you knew that was ridiculous and you tried to fight it.  Still, for all your plans to never see him, you sure did think about him a lot.  You thought about where he might be, so you could be somewhere else.  You thought about what he must be doing at work, and how he was probably continuing to be a nasty mean drunk as frequently as possible.  You wondered if he and your mother were making love just across the house, although you were lucky enough to never hear anything.  Just knowing that could be happening made you feel sick, even though you realized it was none of your business.  

You sometimes found yourself listening for it at night, just in case.

//

Your mother had decided to spend her new husband’s money on a trip, but the man himself couldn’t tag along— too much work to do, apparently.  The prospect of being left alone with him was nightmare fuel, but you didn’t even try to ask her to stay… you knew she wouldn’t listen.  She’d been totally absorbed in her own world since the wedding, seeming to be very fulfilled by the social role of ‘Sheriff’s wife’ to the point that she had lost all interest in her former position as ‘your mom’.  

There was a balance to the silence with her gone, though.  You avoided him, he avoided you; it was a tense truce, but a survivable one.  At least without her, nobody was going to try to make you two get along.  Friday night was different, though.  This time when he came home from work, you knew you were stuck with him until Monday morning.  That thought made you realize that you needed to get out and you didn’t care if you weren’t dressed for it.  It was hot, and it was just a walk so nobody was going to see you in this miniskirt anyway, right?

Too bad Lee was sitting on the couch, still in his uniform, not giving you any mind but likely to harass you before you could make it outside.  You figured if you just walked casually enough, he wouldn’t even notice, so you made your way towards the door.

“You’re not going out like that,” he announced suddenly, seemingly without even looking up from his newspaper.

“Says who?” you deflected quickly with a raised brow.  It wasn’t that you wanted to pick a fight, but you just couldn’t understand why he would even care what you were wearing.

“Says the guy who doesn’t want you to give all the neighborhood boys the wrong idea.”

“What idea?!” you asked, crossing your arms.  He shot you a look, quickly raking in your body and outfit which made you feel more observed than you cared for.

“The idea that you’re a slut,” he explained coldly.

You gulped at his words but tried to keep a poker face.  You didn’t let it get this far just to give up.  You were so sick of his shit; what made him think he could boss you around when he’d never even tried to get to know you?

“What makes you assume that’s the wrong idea?” you shot back, fighting the nervousness in your voice.

You hadn’t expected him to stand up instantly, the coffee table wobbling a bit when his knee bumped into it.

“The fuck did you say?” he hissed.

With his teeth bared at you he looked like a predator, and you felt like small, helpless prey.  You tried to muster some of your former confidence, but everything came out shaky and weak.  “I— I said that maybe it’s not the wrong ide—”

He pounced, crossing the room and slamming you back against the wall, a hand at each shoulder; you instantly cowered, shrinking back and turning your face away from him as far as you could.  You never thought he’d put his hands on you like this.  Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were surprised you could hear his hoarse whisper.

“Watch your tone with me.  I’m not kidding around.”

“I’m an adult,” you weakly fought back, “I can do what I want.”

“Not in my fuckin’ house you can’t!” he bellowed.

For some reason, it all hit you at once.  All the emotions you’d been suppressing since your mother had gotten engaged— all the anger and fear and betrayal and indignation, they came bubbling up before you could stop them.  

“I don’t even want to be in your ugly fucking house!” you cried in response.  “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you!  You’re a fascist and a tyrant and a pig!”

You expected him to get more aggressive but he suddenly stilled.  It was the scariest anger, that outwardly-calm type that made your blood go cold.

“Go to your room.”

You didn’t question it, turning to walk away (any excuse to get away from him, right?), but you didn’t expect him to follow you in and shut the door behind the both of you.

You were paralyzed with fear as he stepped past you and sat on your bed.  It was sort of strange as you realized you’d never seen him in your room before.  He stood out against the somewhat childish decorations, but you were in no mood to appreciate the humor of the situation as he patted his knee.

“Lay across my lap.  Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He couldn’t possibly be doing what I think he’s doing, could he? you wondered to yourself, but did as he asked.  You realized you’d never been so close to him before, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes.  He smelled like cologne and booze, although you didn’t think he’d actually had much to drink yet today— at least compared to his normal habits.  It was almost worse to think that he wasn’t acting on drunkenness now.

“It’s prob’ly too late for it, but you are in serious need of discipline, young lady.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, but your body reacted to it differently than you expected.

His fingers slipped between the top of your skirt and your skin, having to pull pretty hard to get it down due to how tight it was.  You bit your lip and hoped he wouldn’t notice your arousal, but as your pussy was exposed, you could feel the breeze from the ceiling fan and you knew you were undeniably wet.  You didn’t know why, but you were.

“Count them for me,” he instructed coldly and before you could ask what you were counting, he brought his hand down firmly.  You felt his wedding ring in the slap and it made you feel a little sick.

“O-one,” you stammered.

He delivered four more, alternating cheeks, and you tried not to react with visible pain.  But as the intensity increased, you realized that not reacting might’ve actually been making it worse.  Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when the eighth made your whole body lurch forward from the force.

“Eight!” you squealed, but both of you noticed the way you pushed your hips forward.  Unintentional as it may have been, you were trying to rub yourself on his thigh, desperate to be touched where it felt like all the energy of your body had focused.  You were sure you’d never been so horny before, and now your clit was nearly throbbing.  What the fuck is wrong with me?!

He quickly delivered the final two slaps before grabbing your neck, hoisting you up until you were on your knees before him.  He examined your face closely and you tried to keep your lip from shaking.

“You’re worse than I thought,” he hissed.  “You are in dire need of a punishment.  You should thank me for going so easy on you so far.”

You realized when his grip on your jaw tightened that he was being literal.  “Thank you, for going easy on me…”

“Where’d that fire go, huh?  Guess you’re all talk,” he laughed.  

He roughly shoved his fingers into your mouth, moaning lowly as your tongue rubbed against the pads of his fingers.  “This fuckin’ mouth.  You just don’t know when to keep it shut, do you?  Come on baby, open up.  I’ve got a better use for it than your fuckin’ disrespectful attitude.”

He used his free hand to work on his belt right in front of your face, and your eyes went wide.

“Don’t act so surprised sweetheart,” he said with a hint of irritation, “this is exactly what you’re asking for.”

You gasped a bit when his cock was freed from his trousers, springing up and already red at the tip.  You’d never seen one this close before and it was intimidating in every way.

“Like what you see?  You’re so wet for it,” he purred.  You tried to speak but words abandoned you. 

It was all a blur as he held your mouth open and shoved his cock inside— it tasted like skin and salt, and the size made your chapped lips crack until you worried they would bleed.  His moans were deep and gravelly, making your skin break out into goosebumps as he pumped smoothly into your pliant mouth.  He slapped your face a few times, not quite hard but plenty strong enough to make it sting.  You winced with each impact, the tears which had welled from your gagging finally falling down and dripping from your chin.

“Suck on it, princess, like a popsicle… fuck yeah, like that,” he groaned, and your mind resisted obeying him but your body was completely at his mercy.  “Aw baby, ya look so good chokin’ on my cock.  Is that what you were gonna go do in this slutty little outfit you’ve got on?”

You tried to shake your head but he was holding you down, not even giving you a chance to breathe.  His protruding stomach rubbed against your forehead when his cock was this deep in your throat, and the disgust and fear somehow made your arousal stronger.

He let you go, finally, and you pulled back with a gasp and a cough.  You weren’t given much reprieve, though, as he started to tug at your blouse as well.

“No, wait,” you whimpered, weakly trying to bat his hands away.

“Wait?  I think I’ve been waiting long enough,” he growled.  “Your ma’s a fuckin’ tease, hasn’t touched me since I got her that ugly fuckin’ ring.  Let’s hope you learn from her mistakes.”

Your blouse was torn open and tossed aside, leaving you only in the pulled-up skirt and your bra.  Reaching up to cover yourself, you were discouraged by the shockingly-gentle brush of his hands. 

“Don’t cover yourself, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured.  His gaze made you feel hot all over, and it wasn’t just because of the summer weather outside.  “Nobody ever looked at ya before?”

You shook your head, looking down at the floor.  A finger under your chin guided you to look up at him.  

“Nobody ever touched ya before?” he pressed, his stare boring into you.  You shook your head again.  “Fuck,” he whispered, but then he started to smile proudly.  “Knew you were a good girl, princess, you just didn’t wanna act like one for some reason.  You gonna be good for me now?” 

You nodded weakly, swallowing as you tried to comprehend what was happening.  

“Then I’ll be good to you, too,” he promised darkly, a shimmer in his eyes that made you throb between your thighs.  “Come get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You almost resisted, but it was your need driving you now, not your mind.  You had been waiting too long to let a boy touch you, and now that a man had touched you, you felt all kinds of wrong and yet craved more.  Before you had even finished sitting down beside him, he was slipping off your bra and pushing you back onto the quilt.

“Sheriff!” you yelped instinctively, a little disoriented as he started to climb on top of you.

He chuckled, clearly amused by your unexpected appeal to authority.  “Wanna know a secret, sweetheart?  Wanna know the real reason I said you didn’t have to call me that anymore?”  He leaned down, his breath hot and moist against your neck when he spoke: “Because it made me so fuckin’ hard when you said it.”

He pressed his cock, still wet with your spit, against your thigh; maybe just for emphasis, a reminder that he was still hard and wasn’t anywhere near done with you.

“What are you gonna do to me…?” you asked weakly, your voice so wavering and broken that you cringed just hearing it.  

“Just gonna make you feel good, princess,” he smiled, and before you could ask what that would entail, he was groping your tits in his large, calloused hands.  A low groan echoed in his chest, and you tried not to squirm as he teased your nipples between his fingers.  They were already hardening from the moment he’d touched you, but somehow it was getting even worse when he played with them, watching your face and surely seeing the shame you wore there.

His hands trailed lower, rubbing your waist, your thighs… you found yourself anticipating that he’d remove your panties, so much so that when he did, you quickly lifted your hips to help him slide them off.  You couldn’t believe how easily you were letting him do this to you.

“I can tell how much you want it,” he taunted lowly as the fabric slid down your legs and was tossed to the floor.  “I can smell how much you want it.”  He growled a little before diving in, licking a thick stripe through your folds and taking a moment right at the end to tickle your clit with his tongue.  “So fuckin’ sweet, princess; I knew you would be,” he praised.  You were forced to wonder how long he’d been thinking about this.

The noises were beyond obscene and you felt your face burning— but there was a burning in your gut, too, and shooting down your legs.  You’d never felt like this before (being a very good girl who never even touched herself), but you knew that if he didn’t stop, you would come.  And you really, really wanted to come.

Everytime he put pressure on your clit, your leg quivered involuntarily.  It was nearly too much, the sensation so powerful it almost hurt, but he pushed you right to the edge without knocking you off.

“Please,” you found yourself begging before you could stop it, “please, Sheriff—”

“I’m not your Sheriff anymore, sweetheart,” he informed you gruffly, popping up from between your legs with the entire bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, “I’m your daddy now.  Go on and beg your daddy to fuck you.”

Eyes shot wide open, you stared back at him in bewilderment.  Rage flashed in his eyes, and he snarled as his hand suddenly wrapped around your neck, tightening and choking you. 

“You heard me,” he groaned through his teeth.  “Beg me.  To fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you stammered, hoarsely fighting to speak through the pressure on your throat, “fuck me, please.”

He slammed his cock into you and you nearly screamed.  It burned and you instinctively tried to crawl away but, of course, his weight on top of you made it impossible.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  He laid down on top of you entirely then, slipping his arms under your torso and holding you tightly.

Each thrust made you feel like you had reached your limits, as if you couldn’t be stretched further which was probably true.  And yet, in spite of it (or worse, because of it), you found yourself moaning and writhing under him, even arching your back to make his movements smoother.  He laughed a little as he bit at the shell of your ear.

“You love it, baby,” he moaned, “you love my cock.”

You couldn’t respond, just sob as you clutched at the shirt still on his back, your jaw tight as you tried to bear the pain.  

“It’s not always gonna hurt like this,” he promised between heavy breaths, “s’gonna feel good soon.  Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, pretty girl.”

Truthfully, you weren’t sure if that meant that this would happen again or not.  At the moment, you were incapable of thinking that far ahead, too focused on the way the sting of the stretch was melting away and morphing into such powerful pleasure that you couldn’t even see straight.

He kissed you, and only then did the weight of it hit you.  Who he was, what he was doing, what you were doing… it had been distant and vague before, but something about his tongue inside your mouth made you remember that the metal digging into your back was his ring; that the lips on yours were sworn to somebody else— and at that, the one exact person that made this so fundamentally wrong.

Tears welled in your eyes, gentle sobs shaking your chest.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, pulling back and kissing your tears away, “feels good, don’t it?  Feels good when daddy fucks you?”

You knew speaking would only make you cry more, so you only nodded your head shamefully.

“That’s my good girl,” he moaned as he fucked you deeper, harder, rougher.  Your fingers held onto the back of his neck, running through his hair and pulling him closer.  He kept mumbling praises but they fell on deaf ears, pleasure clouding your mind and making every hair on your body stand upright.  He didn’t stop as he reached down between your bodies and laid his hand over your stomach, growling with satisfaction at what he found there.

“I can feel me inside ya,” he grinned.  “Feel that, sweetheart?  Feel how deep I am in your wet little cunt?”

When you didn’t answer, you got a quick slap to the face.  “Yes,” you replied quickly, “yes, I— I feel it.”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting you there until you nearly screamed.  You couldn’t figure out why something so objectively painful only pushed you closer to your peak, making every spot inside you more sensitive, but somehow it did.

“Gonna come, pretty girl?  Want daddy to fill you up?” he groaned against your ear, pushing down on your stomach even harder.

“Yes, daddy!” you sobbed.  “Please!”

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me,” he hissed, “don’t fuckin’ stop.  Keep milkin’ my cock and m’gonna fill ya up so good, princess…”

You couldn’t stop even if you tried— your orgasm hit you in powerful waves, your head falling back as your walls clenched involuntarily (as did your fingers and toes, so hard that your nail tore the sheets a little bit, which you wouldn’t notice until the next day).  He grunted as he came, pumping into you with each thrust until you felt more full than you ever had before, in a way you could never describe.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, him catching his breath and you losing yours as his weight threatened to crush you.  “Fuck,” he groaned as he sat up and pulled out.  He grabbed your legs and held them up for you, staring at your abused pussy and making you feel uncomfortably observed.

“Push it out for me, wanna see my come leak outta ya,” he purred, moaning a little when you did as he asked.  It felt even hotter as it gushed out of you, and you mindlessly bit your lip.  He tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, rezipping them and buckling his belt.  “We’d better get ya cleaned up, huh princess?” 

The bathroom wasn’t far, so he carried you, setting you down to stand on your own as he started to draw a bath.  You watched him, although you weren’t really watching him so much as staring into the void of space that happened to be in his general direction.  You were so out of it that you didn’t even register when he turned around and smiled at you with an air of pride.

“You look so good like this.”  

It pulled you out of your trance, though you had to ask him to repeat himself with a mumbled “huh?”

“I said you look good like this,” he explained, stepping closer.  “Fucked out, braindead, just my empty-headed fucktoy.”

“I… I don’t…” you began to disagree.

He used your jaw to turn your face to the mirror, and you gasped when you saw yourself: your hair was a mess; your whole face was red, especially your eyes and nose from crying, but plenty on your cheeks where he’d slapped you; your lips were swollen and slick; bruises were already forming on your arms where he’d grabbed you, and along your neck and shoulders where he had bitten you.

His form dwarfed yours as he stood behind you, looking at your reflection with a smile.

“Look at us,” he announced wistfully, “one big happy family, huh?”

[barbiegirldream]

I've read the thread and as a Black person-

Holy shit, what the fuck is this thread even for? If people are spewing out slurs and harassing POC, call them the fuck out. None of the people who harass are like, some protected group who protects our Dreamie or our precious CCs, they're assholes through and fucking through. If people want this space to be antiblack free so bad, they're doing such a shit job by focusing on literally everything but the actual people causing the problem, holy shit- even with the users they screenshotted, they don't even call out those actual people- they call out the fucking collective-- the fandom. I wish there weren't people like the ones screenshotted in OP's thread, because they genuinely make this fandom a living hell sometimes with how they fucking act, even towards POC who are even slightly critical of CCs.

However. Every single fucking time I see people say "We're just trying to hold these CCs accountable! You can't keep speaking over POC voices!"

You're (not you, people like the OP) not holding anyone accountable for shit. You're cyberstalking bullshit does nothing to make this fandom feel any less "antiblack" than the people outside of the fandom who constantly harass POC in the fandom to change our mind and see the evil devil CCs on our shoulder. Do these people know how many I've seen other POC in this fandom get called "Race traitors" or COONS JUST for not blindly hating on someone (more often than not, Dream) for saying (insert racist/bigot shit here) from what, 2? 8 YEARS ago? And for people who so desperately want POC voices to stop being trampled over, they're so fucking ready to throw out slurs and unironic racism themselves to any other POC that doesn't agree in the exact same way they want them to, people need to understand that this shit is not as one way as they think.

Even if you're POC, surprise! You can also be capable of racism towards other POC!

It's even more fucked that some of the people they bring up as examples are ALSO POC who- guess what!

Have been known to be just as nasty to other POC as the people in those screenshots! Holy shit! Who'dve thought? /s

If there's one thing that I wish POC, especially the younger gen. coming up in the world, understood is that- racism isn't a concept that magically goes away when you aggressively beatdown everyone for every little thing that can be seen as a microaggression against POC. Yes, there are racists/bigots out there who will bury their feet so deep into the ground that they're practically buried in the hate they so desperately think is justified in every way, shape, or form. But not everyone is like that, and it's a bitter fucking pill to swallow, because sometimes- it feels so much easier to punch the person who calls you a slur, or give a verbal/physical beatdown to someone who tries to invalidate your existence, simply due to your skin. But racism isn't that point blank, it isn't just "Hey! You're (Insert race other than white here)! Therefore, you deserve no equal rights according to me! An actual human being (white)!".

Sometimes, it's in the little things, like when people see you wear an outfit and say it's ugly, only to see it on someone in a different skin color- just to say it's the most beautiful outfit in the world. Sometimes, it's when people look at all the things you own and say "Wow! You really made it for yourself here huh!" while giving off the subtext that they think you did something illegal just to get it.

Racism isn't just a point blank, cartoon-esque, mean girls style of hatred. It's shit that's embedded into us through the smallest actions, even if you think it's not as harmful as it sounds.

If people like Dream, or Phil, or Techno or Tommy-- or any CC in this fandom is going to "apologize" to us for shitty ass jokes, or for the Racism/Anti-Semitism/Islamophobia/Bigoted things said or done in the past, no matter how far back it goes- attacking and belittling every single thought/action/apology in order to show they've grown/change won't solve anything. If anything, it could sometimes lead people down the same road that they've tried to get off of from the past, and may cause them to completely shut themselves off from those same spaces that are actively trying to stir them away from that bigoted bullshit. Or sometimes, it could very well lead to the opposite happening, where we're coddled like newborns and treated with privilege that goes beyond just fighting for equality and acceptance in the world. I've seen both happen, and the matters of it are way too messy to just be given a simple "I'm sorry".

Acknowledgement of change or even past behaviors is the first step towards an actual apology. That doesn't mean these acts will just magically disappear and the world becomes a bright, sunny place where rainbows bloom everywhere-- if it were that easy, anything regarding hating race, religion, belief, etc. would just... Not exist, lol.

These things happened, we know they happened, we can be hurt that it happened, even if we don't agree that we should even after a few minutes of hard thinking, but nothing will change if we just keep looming these actions over their head and make them feel guilt for not having the knowledge of how this shit will affect us later on in life.

I hope this didn't lose the plot super hard on what I'm trying to say, but holy shit, I'm just sick and tired of seeing threads like this, knowing damn well that they won't change a thing, and will just make this worse all around.

Sorry for the wall of text in your inbox, this thread just got me heated 💀

you are so correct on just all of this.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

I know everyone likes the "secretly good villain whumpee..." but what about when the villain was a rat- bastard with very few redeeming qualities... just being injured and sick and oh so broken. Just begging for mercy, even though they were so arrogant and vicious before.

I melt at those scenarios.

I agree with that. If the villain is secretly good, you might as well call him or her a hero- or at least a vigilante.

Vicious and Bloody

Warnings: gorey(?) description of injuries, maggots, blood, vomit, mention of people dying, pus, field medicine, bathing, vomit, sleep deprivation, pills (tylenol and ibuprofen), attempted murder, implied past torture, hallucinations, fever, delirium

~

There was no rational answer for the scene in front of her. Not even the greastest minds in history could comprehend it- figuratively speaking. It was just so peculiar, odd and out of place, that it was like from a different dimension.

The said scene would be absolutely mortifying to the squeamish soul. Between the blood and the vomit and the maggots, the sight was more than revolting.

But still, ignoring her instincts to gag and run, Civilian crouched down next to the poor man- not touching, of course, it would only irritate his injuries further and be disgusting on many levels.

"Should I call an ambulance?" Civilian asked the man softly, brushing back the part of his grimey hair that wasn't intoxicated by maggots or too much blood.

But in doing that, she realized that the man wasn't even conscious. Which, was not surprising and brought a small relief to the nervous civilian.

But it also revealed his identity. Even without the foreboding mask, his features unmistakably were those of the most feared and vile human of the city.

Villain.

"If you ever see Villain, call the heroes. If he so happens to be incapacitated, kill him or injure him further to limit his ability of escape or to destroy."

That mandatory lesson rang through Civilian's ears nearly as loud as semi's horn. It was every civilian's responsibility- whether they were a certified hero or not- to hand it or dispose of any being against the government.

Especially Villain.

Especially without any doubt Villain.

Civilian sighed and observed the injured man's face. It was her responsibility to do this, the city would thank her, applaud her.

She brought her hands to Villain's neck and squeezed. His breaths hitched, but he didn't wake, not even to the sensation of suffocation. Civilian squeezed her eyes shut, but it did nothing to rid her mind of the horrendous sight of his already crimson stained face growing even redder... his lips paling then morphing into a grayish blue...

Civilian gasped, drawing her hands away from his neck. The villain's eyes shot open as he tried to fill his lungs, but as he heaved and wheezed, they kept rolling up and sliding closed.

"Hey!" Civilian exclaimed, tapping his shoulder. Villain's eyes shot open and he looked at Civilian with an expression filled with the unthinkable.

Fear.

Villain's lip trembled as he tried his hardest to scoot away. He whimpered something unintelligently and weakly held up a hand as if to protect himself from futher harm- as if the shaking limb could do anything other than wave aimlessly in the air.

Upon coming to the conclusion that escape was impossible, the villain resumed a position of pointless mewling.

"Don't hurt me," he whined, tears streaming down his cheeks, making the small cuts sting and itch. "D-don't hurt me. I've been bad, please don't remind me. P-please." He shifted his head into his elbow and sobbed.

Civilian didn't know what to do with the scenario, so she just allowed him to cry until he was too exhausted to do anything other than whimper pained pleas.

When his eyes started to droop, Civilian wrapped her arms around his upper body and heaved him into a sitting position- somewhat shocked of how limp and pliable he was.

Then she stopped. What was she doing? Villain was the most notoriously evil person in the city, if not the universe. He killed hundreds, thousands even including men, women, and children. He was undeserving of any level of comfort, whether that be love, care, or compassion.

Yet someone had to be worse than him to put him in such a nasty condition.

"Don't hurt me," Villain whispered, clinging to Civilian's shirt with all his might- as little as that was.

"I won't," Civilian promised, smiling down at the injured villain. The villain sighed and closed his eyes.

She had to help him now. It would be practically illegal to turn him in, or harm him even further. Well, metaphorically speaking.

Civilian dragged Villain into her house. Luckily, she owned a one-story, so bringing him to the bathroom was not too big of a deal- apart from the exertion on her slender arms, that was.

Immediately, Civilian stripped off the remains of his tattered clothing and sat him in the tub. Gingerly, she washed out the infection wounds, making sure all the maggots were gone.

After thirty minutes, she only finished the lower half of his body and his back and shoulders were much, much worse. It took another hour to get done with those.

Civilian took a second to catch her breath, she didn't realize how diligently she was working. The villain was completely clean, other than countless uneven holes that looked like someone grabbed his skin and pulled it out.

The next line of business was whether or not to give him stitches. Many of the remainding wounds were heavily infected and would benefit from being dried out.

Many of those infected wounds needed to be drained and removed.

Civilian sighed, thinking of her nursing classes. She had school tomorrow...

Someone was dying.

Someone with the name of Villain.

Civilian ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. She ran in through the sharpener a couple times before heating it on the stove to remove bacteria. Here goes...

Civilian cut into one of the infected abscesses and carefully drained the pus out. She sighed and wiped her hands on a papertowel. She should really be wearing gloves...

Villain jerked, suddenly awakening with a shriek. His eyes saw the knife and he froze, staring at it for a long time, before erupting into unstoppable sobs.

"Don't hurt me! P-p-please don't... knife," he wailed, trying to curl into himself.

"Stop it," Civilian tried to reason, clenching her teeth, as she pulled Villain away from himself. He started to rock, back and forth... back and forth... back and-

"Hurts," he whimpered.

"I know," Civilian whispered, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm trying to help."

"No. Pain."

"No pain?" Civilian repeated, trying to make sense of what Villain's intent of the statically said statement.

"No pain," he murmured, resting his head against the tub. "Take away."

"I don't have anything for the pain," Civilian told him softly. "Some nyquil, but I'd rather give you tylenol for the fever."

Villain looked up at her with pleading eyes. "Please," he begged..

"It's just gonna make you tired, not take away the full extent of the pain."

Villain let out a strained sob and kicked out with his feet. Pouting in the most pitiful way.

"Just," Civilian sighed. "Just. It's gonna hurt."

Civilian leveled the knife to another wound and drained it. Villain writhed in the beginning, but stopped when he realized his fate.

By the time each major abscess was drained, Villain was barely conscious, his head lolling groggily against the bath tub. Civilian gulped. She would have to disinfect the wounds now, but she didn't have anything for it...

Salt water, a saline solution.

Villain's screams did not leave Civilian's memory for a while, even when he was finally asleep on the couch. Civilian aimlessly rubbed his hand, whispering to him as he slept, but it all felt wrong. So, so wrong. All the people he hurt never got the same level of care that he was receiving- as if they had any at all.

But at the same time, it felt right. None of Villain's victim's injuries were as extreme as his- they either died or went to the hospital. Whoever tortured Villain wanted him to suffer, not that Villain wanted people to not suffer...

Crap, this was confusing herself.

Civilian cared for Villain throughout the night. The open textbook on her kitchen table did not even remind her of her class in the morning. Nothing could, especially when someone so sick seeked her hospitality.

Villain's fever raged and he was fed more and more tylenol. Eventually, she started to put ice packs around his neck and major arteries, but he was still so, so miserable.

He started to hallucinate. Sometimes whimpering about a bat flying around his head, or laughing giddily. But one of these episodes really stood out to Civilian.

"Curve, curve," he muttered as his cheek rested against the mattress- for some reason he kept flipping himself to his stomach. "Fall."

"Then cave." The delirious, but intense gaze the villain had made Civilian wonder if he was trying to tell her something in his fevered state.

"Man hurt."

Civilian shushed Villain and gave him a quick sip of water with an ibuprofen tablet. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Don't hurt me," Villain whispered, scratching at the sheets. "Please."

"I won't, sleep."

Villain slowly, oh so slowly nodded as he allowed his eyes to slip closed.

Civilian took care of Villain as best as she could. She really needed to get supplies, but it was dangerous to leave the villain unattended as sick and injured as he was. Infection set in agai, fever rose...

Civilian groaned and rubbed her head. She had a horrible headache from stress and lack of sleep.

Maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt...

When Civilian woke up, seven hours later, she found Villain shivering on the ground with vomit all over him.

"Dangit," Civilian groaned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

Just dangit.

[writer-panda]

Hit on the groom and what became of it - chapter 1/I will keep missing you (if you don’t stop running)

Disclaimer: I don’t own DC or Miraculous. I’m just playing with some crazy concept. 

Chapter 1 (here)  -|-  Next

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

Ladybug landed on top of the Eiffel tower with practiced grace. An agitated worry roiling in her chest about the message Chat Noir left her. The urgency was one thing, but he sounded… pained. Like the weight of the world dragged him down type pain. 

Marinette knew Chat’s home life wasn’t perfect. Skilled at hiding it, maybe, but details leaked through the cracks. An offhand comment here, a muttered accusation there, a sour face yet again here. He lived in pain and tried so hard to work through it. 

She tried to help him whenever she could, both as Ladybug and Marinette. She may not return his feelings, but she always listened. For months during their third year as heroes, she left food on the rooftop when Chat’s suit revealed too many ribs. She wasn’t sure the reason and didn’t dare to ask, lest she learned too much, but she did try to help. There were times she thought she imagined the pained looks, and thin frame, and thinly veiled comments; maybe overexaggerating the situation in her mind, as she often did. After all, he always acted so cheerfully.

Then, Lila happened. 

The first strike landed swift, almost deadly, but she survived. It was what followed that made her reconsider. A prolonged fight, where Marinette chose to retain a cheerful mask to hide the pain. Along the line, she considered confiding in her parents. But what could they do?  Maybe take her from school, but that would mean Lila already won; the Liar would rule unopposed.

Which left Adrien, her last bastion of friendship. 

She still harbored a bit of a crush on him, but it was justified! Like a knight in shining armor, he stood, always ready to defend her. He always ensured her inclusion in class activities and saved her from several catastrophes. 

She still stumbled over her words with him, but when it’s minor stuttering or not talking to anyone, she forced herself to adapt. It was nowhere near as bad as it used to be. 

With the ability to spend more time with Adrien without acting like a spaz, Kagami also appeared more often, and proved to be a good friend. Marinette found a home with the two awkward rich kids ridiculously clueless and unaware of how the real world functioned. In the end, she even grew to accept Adrien might not be destined to be hers but chose to support him nonetheless. 

“My lady?” She was broken out of her musing by a familiar voice.

“Hello, Kitty-cat. I got your message… what’s wrong?” She turned to see Cat Noir slumped over the railing, with his ears tweaking nervously. She didn’t even know he could do it. 

“I… I’m sorry my Lady, but I can’t… I can’t continue to be your partner,” he declared.

“What?!” she squeaked. “What happened? What’s the matter?” 

“I’m… I’m getting married,” he announced, his ears drooping and tail tucked between his legs.  

Oh, that’s… not what she expected to hear. “Married? Congrat…” she drifted off, noticing his sour face. “Chat? What are you not telling me?”

“It’s… I… My…” He struggled to figure out how to say it, but ultimately remained silent for a moment. “There is nothing to be happy about. It’s a… business marriage,” he spat, his eyes narrowing.  

“But… those are illegal!” Ladybug protested.

“Not when you make it look like a love match. Especially if you insinuate at a scandal.” He sneered, jumping off the railing and pacing along the empty rooftop. “My father holds all the cards and I… I’m in no position to oppose him.”

“I’m sure we can…”

He sighed, walking over to her. “Please… M’lady. Don’t try to give me hope. I accepted what I must do.” With that, he reached for the ring, but she stopped him.

“Chat. We can try… You’re my friend. You can’t… We will figure it out. Together.” In all they’d endured, suffered, and triumphed - Marinette had never seen him this despondent… this broken. 

He sighed, his eyes flat and dull. “There is nothing to figure out,” he said, forcing the ring off his finger. 

The transformation fell, leaving Adrien Agreste materialized in place of her long-time partner. Plagg’s sharp cry cut off, as he’s sucked into the ring the second he popped out of it. She stood there, too stunned to notice the blond boy pushed the ring into her palm and closed it. 

Marinette wasn’t sure what thoughts decided to rampantly rage through her head, but the train of thoughts probably broke the collective speed limit everywhere in the world at the same time. 

“M’lady?” Adrien’s soft voice brought her to earth when she was one step from panic.

“A-Adrien?” She choked on the word.

“You heard about me?” He looked dumbfounded. Ladybug, too shocked to say a word, gestured over to the building line. Even from so high and far away, his most recent billboard advertisement stood visible. “Ah… right.”

“Who… who’s the lucky girl?” Inside her mind, she wondered if Kagami right now faced a  similar problem. It was the most logical…

“Lila Rossi,” Adrien admitted, his shoulders hunching. 

Marinette.exe stopped working. 

A moment passed.

Another.

“Um… M’Lady?” The boy tried to prod his ex-partner to respond by waving his hand in front of her face.

“That… that lying…” Ladybug saw red. This could not be happening.

Adrien nodded, the despondent look on his face growing worse every second.“My father deemed her a suitable heiress to the Gabriel brand… I tried to warn him she was a liar, but he… I think he actually admires her skill…” Tears built in his eyes, and Adrien covertly tried to wipe them away. 

“Maybe… maybe you could… I don’t know!” she screamed in frustration. Marinette had several ideas about what Adrien could do, but none of them would help. 

Running away would be a problem. Leaking the story to the press would lead to his home life growing even worse. After dealing with Gabriel Agreste’s parenting, she held no illusion Adrien could win a court battle. The rich too often got away with whatever they desired. She could try to sicc Uncle Jagged on the case… or maybe Clara Nightingale… Nadia Chamack would probably love the news-breaking story, but it would all put Adrien in danger. Who knows what would happen before they could obtain results or protection against Gabriel’s extensive reach. 

Adrien sighed as if knowing exactly where her thoughts took her. Chat was no dummy, he probably scoured over his options more times than he could count. His resignation, the last resort in a long line of failed plans.  “I appreciate you trying, but I already told you I accepted it. Just… take me down, please. I… I didn’t really plan the location well…” He let out a weak chuckle. 

“Fine… I’m sorry kitty...” She grabbed hold of him and swung to the ground. Despondently she watched her best friend, her partner, walk away into the night; resigned to a life of suffering and isolation. 

There must be something she could do, she thought. She closed a gloved fist around the ring. She was Ladybug, and if she put her mind to it, there was nothing she couldn't do.  

-----------

A week later the press learned about the upcoming wedding. Adrien and Lila both left school for home-school. The press and the general public ate up the news story about star-crossed lovers that met in school and became inseparable. It didn’t help that the class kept commenting about how good they were for each other. 

Marinette resisted an urge to gag whenever she caught the sound of the vicious lies and propaganda.  She was asked for comment only once but chose to refuse. It didn’t earn her any popularity in class. Luckily, she convinced Nadia to stop a nasty side-story about her jealousy from being published. 

No closer to a plan, she despondently continued to push through her life without her friend. She, unsurprisingly, hadn’t received a single text or call. Marinette didn’t blame Adrien; his position couldn’t be easy. A month after Adrien departed from her class, Marinette convinced her parents to also home-school her. Without a single friend, the school became a burden. Of course, her reasoning to her parents leaned into her focus on her fashion business. Which wasn’t untrue. It was starting to pick up. 

The only upside to this whole debacle was near-lack of akuma attacks. It seemed Hawkmoth found a hobby. Maybe he wrote poems? 

Nah. Not his style...

Two months after the announcement  Marinette woke to surprise guests: Adrien, his father, and Lila knocked on the bakery’s doors. The bride-to-be in an especially sour mood, as much as she tried to hide it. Gabriel appeared to be devoid of any emotions, as usual.

She seated them on the couch and asked if they would like a drink. She didn’t bother to offer food, not wanting to waste good cake on the likes of Lila and Gabriel. Although, Adrien’s thin cheeks and haunted eyes made her regret the decision. 

All of them declined the drink.

“Madame Marinette, I assume you have heard of the Wedding?” The capitalization clearly discernible in his voice. 

“Yes… Yes sir!” she corrected herself. Trying desperately to mask her disgust behind a layer of nervousness. She couldn’t risk a glance at Adrien, even if this was the first time she’d seen him since that night on the roof. Making it through the meeting would be hard enough without watching him suffer.  

“While initially, I planned to prepare the dress and suit myself, my son convinced me to give a chance to someone else to shine.” Clearly, whatever it was Adrien said, it didn’t include a polite request. “I have seen the dress you made for Rock Star Jagged Stone’s wedding, as well as the suit worn by Nadia Chamack.”

“They are designs I’m particularly proud of, sir.” 

Play the part. Play the part. Don’t send him to the hospital. Papa and Maman would be disappointed. Well, Maman would probably join me… 

Her homicidal train of thought ended as she forced a smile to appear on her face. Contrary to Lila’s stretched thin lips;  Marinette’s smile shines bright and could’ve been mistaken for genuine.

“Indeed… I’ve come to commission you to design and make the gown and the suit for the sweet couple.” He announced like it was the highest honor, but there was an amount of bile in his words Marinette used to think was reserved only for Nino.

“I… I’m… I’m honored, sir!” She beamed. The excitement only half-forced. Her moral compass told her even entertaining the proposal was wrong, but at the same time, her brain furiously flitted crafting possibilities. 

Gabriel nodded imperiously as if her acceptance merely added to a foregone conclusion. “Good. My assistant, Nathalie, will sort out the details. Lex Luthor agreed to pay for the pieces as his wedding gift, so do not be afraid to ask for full price.” He informed her t as if he believed she would give him a discount. 

For a moment, a singular reckless moment, Marinette entertained the temptation to voice her thoughts about Gabriel being cheap. 

She sighed, no, there would be another day for career suicide. The group rose to leave, and Marinette finally glanced at Adrien; his model-trained smile paper-thin. He caught her eyes, and if he radiated sadness two months ago, it didn’t hold a candle to the devastation swimming in his eyes. The exchange broke when Lila gripped a hand tight around his arm and dragged him to the door. 

Gabriel handed her a card, and the group departed. Marinette collapsed onto the couch, the makings of a headache building in her skull. 

This would be awful.  

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

A week later Marinette held a separate meeting, consisting of Nathalie, Lila, Lila’s mother, and Adrien’s aunt. And her, obviously. 

She first asked what kind of dress Lila wanted.

Lila’s eyes lit up in an unholy glee; and she started talking. 

And talking. 

And talking. 

And talking. 

After the long and painstakingly thorough description, Marinette felt faint. Several reasons contributed to that, although the most prominent were the materials, the design, and the way she spoke. Obviously Lila had feelings, the kind likely to trigger an oncoming Auma attack if Hawkmoth hadn’t pranced off to who knows where, about Marinette designing her dress. 

Marinette was happy Adrien’s aunt pointed out the request’s complete madness, but Lila’s mother waved it off, quick to declare only minor adjustments to the request would be needed. 

In the end, Marinette presented several dozen designs, both hers and foreign to have a basis on which she could work. Lila, of course, chose the one that would be hardest to make.

“I’m sorry none of your designs were good, Marinette…” The liar cooed with faked sorrow. She hid a smirk the designer could clearly see. 

The notion was born because it was a picture and not a sketch. 

Marinette smirked, and rose from the couch, ignoring Lila’s irritated scowl at her non-reaction.  

She liked it even less when the girl brought in the ready-made dress. 

“I made it as the first design for Penny Rolling’s wedding, based on Uncle Jagged’s suggestions. I should’ve known Penny didn’t approve of his idea, but…” she waved it off.

Lila, now actively glaring at her, sat back on the couch. All of which was mistaken for amazement by the adults.

Marinette ignored the girl’s dramatics, it was the only way she’d survive this meeting intact. “Of course, there still needs to be several adjustments and personalizations. I will also need to order the amber you requested. And the platinum thread. And the white gold. And probably an industrial-grade 3-D printer… Is that covered by the expenses?” She looked at Nathalie, who nodded. “Great! I will need just a moment.” 

The women watched as Marinette practically leaped at her notebook and added in adjustments to the sketch. Fifteen minutes later, when she presented a new design, impressing them all (sans Lila, obviously) with the flowing lines and intricate details. They praised her talent (even Natalie), and Marinette played the bashful young designer role to a tee. The liar kept glaring though. She couldn’t back away easily, since she already made a scene about wanting that specific dress. Marinette informed them beforehand she would need to know about her specific wishes before she made any adjustments. 

The final design looked pretty much exactly what Lila wanted though, but she didn’t want to give her nemesis the satisfaction. Her entourage did enough of this. 

Under the cover of being too emotional, they ended the meeting. Nathalie remained to finish the deal and sign the contract. 

After all of them left, Marinette collapsed onto her chair. An hour later a notification from her bank came. She received the first half of the payment. When finished, the dress would officially be the most expensive wedding dress to date. Blessed be Lex Luthor and his deep pocket. She chuckled, remembering how much the billionaire got kidnapped because of his money.

Then, an idea shined in her head.

Oh. 

Oh...

She took off her earrings and dismissed Tikki, promising she needed a quick chat with Plagg about a new potential holder. When Marinette put on the ring, the Kwami of destruction popped back into existence. 

“So… figured out how to help my chosen?” he asked. 

What Tikki didn’t know was when Marinette said she intended to discuss potential holders for Plagg, they really worked on a way to save Adrien. It was their secret since Tikki would most likely disapprove. They didn’t want to risk her disappointment in them. Not until they crafted a fleshed out full-proof plan. 

She nodded. “I have an idea. Let’s hire someone to kidnap him!” 

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Did they hit you on the head, pigtails?”

“No. But look, the problem is whatever we come up with, Adrien ends up blamed or we land ourselves in jail, right?” The Kwami nodded. “So… if we make sure it’s a very public kidnapping and he disappears, we can stash him away until the heat dies down. After we dye his hair and apply fast-tan, he will look different enough no one will connect the two. I’m pretty sure I could get my hands on fake documents if I tried hard enough…” she trailed off thinking of all the minutiae to coordinate to pull this off. 

It would be hard. 

But it would be worth it. 

Plagg slowly nods. “Okay… Somehow, that both makes no sense and seems perfectly legitimate. It’s also your most chaotic plan to date, Pigtails. Let’s do it!” The Kwami cheered, happy to be soon reunited with his chosen kitten. “But what about the costs!”

Marinette already had an answer in mind for that question. “Even after I subtract the costs of materials and other supplies, the payment for the dress, together with my savings, will be more than enough. Now… let’s go wake Tikki up.”

That… ended with the Kwami of Creation vomiting a pile of handcuffs and other police gear at Marinette. 

“Um… Why?”

The little red Kwammi placed her paws on her hips. “Because you should familiarize yourself with those if you plan on going to prison for that plan. It’s no longer just a phone theft, Marinette! You’re talking about breaking more laws than I can count!” She dropped to the pillow below, bemoaning about where she went wrong. 

Marinette scooped up her wayward friend and tried to reassure her. “I just need to be careful. I’m pretty sure I can do it without detection. Maman taught me how to not be seen on the internet. Or in general. Come on. I need to order a secure laptop.”

“I will help!” Plagg offered. “I can cataclysm the internet after you do your thing.”

“What?! No! Think of the cute cat pictures!” Marinette protested. “And video games.” 

“Relax! It’ll just remove any trace of you doing anything online in the several hours or so…” He calmed her.

Tikki trailed after them, a bundle of nerves and worry. “Plagg! It’s irresponsible! You can’t possibly…”

“Pigtails and I have it all under control. What’s the worst that could happen?”

---------

Turns out, a lot. 

Before Marinette put out the hit (kidnapping, she made sure that it was plain as day), she needed to set a price. That one was harder. It wasn’t like you could Google how much you needed to charge to kidnap a celebrity. At least, not without attracting a lot of unwanted attention. 

She asked her mother, under the guise of pure curiosity. It was a normal question any teenage girl asked her mother. How much does it cost to have someone killed, how much cheaper/more expensive a kidnapping is, how to acquire fake documents, that kind of stuff. Not suspicious at all. 

So absorbed in her rant, she missed a merry glint in Sabine’s eyes. She also didn’t question how her Maman knew those prices. 

Finally, she needed to fill the form. 

Assignment: Acquisition and Delivery

Asset(s): Adrien Athanase Agreste

Value: 

Here, Marinette paused. 

Her mom gave her a lengthy lecture about pricing and all. According to her, a professional would take up to fifty thousand dollars for kidnapping and bringing the target to her. Marinette decided, since Adrien was a celebrity, she should double the price. More risks involved, more reward, right? 

But, she also wanted to ensure she hired the best of the best. Compare her work to Gabriel Agreste’s, she came to the conclusion ten times the price was reasonable to ensure only the best in the field would take the job. 

Then, there was the matter of safety and so on and so on. By the end, she settled on two million dollars, as her asking price for one Adrien Agreste. Plagg sagely nodded, agreeing with her assessment. Tikki didn’t comment, as she wasn’t speaking to the two, but also seemed more accepting after spying on Adrien and Lila’s home life. Not that she revealed that tidbit to either of them, lest they drop the plan and directly go at Gabe and the Liar. 

After a few more details and boxes in the form Marinette filled until she came to the end. Only one more detail remained: 

Sponsor:

Marinette stared at the word for a moment. After a quick race of thoughts, she typed slowly. 

Sponsor: The Seamstress

Perfect. Nothing about this could go wrong.

Of course, how could she predict just how big of a mess she would make? 

----------

[enjeolmii]

10 questions - p.sh

synopsis: to ask questions isn't too bad. but to end up doing something you never expected from the intention behind every question? way better!

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

word count: 2.4k

warnings: make out sesh (not written in depth), lots of teasing but it’s all playful you nasty

"Next question! Did you like anyon-"

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing? I'm supposed to go next." Sunghoon blocks you with an audible tap on the soft mattress, tsk-ing at your smooth but not slick enough scheme to get more answers from him.

It's a Saturday - the day of the week when assignments, works, chores, and duties are temporarily thrown down the window. On these days, you and Sunghoon go on a carefree date. It's a routine you made once a week to maintain your relationship amidst the setback caused by lockdown, and it was going great.

At a time when real interactions between people became an inappropriate thing to do, and everyone turned to technology as a resolution, you made sure that everything is done by Friday, despite it being so dreading, just so that procrastinating wouldn't be a problem dragged over the next day. And when those pressuring times occur to you, you would send each other texts, exhorting to go easy on yourselves. That's why Saturdays are the only thing you wait for every week. You weigh it up as a chance to see the only light that keeps you going, the one that helps you see clearly the path you are taking in this obscure world.

So here you are with Sunghoon in your bedroom, sitting on the bed and leaning on the wall beside it, covered in your blanket as you cuddle under the warm, comfy covers. The day has been an uneventful one. If not for him reminding you of the conversation you had prior in the week, where you asked him to gather questions he had for you, you would have slept the whole day over without accomplishing anything.

"Fine, what's your eighth question?" You admit, frowning at his attentive remark, and he snickers.

He lifts his phone and scrolls through the questions he has saved in his notes. "Have you ever had a dream about me?"

Your eyes roll around with a finger on your chin, recalling the scenarios you had of him. There were many, some surrounding the time when he decided to confess to you, and most of them came from the fantasies you had of him. Those dreams scare you more than the stare of a fiery lion. It almost even feels illegal to think about it because you aren't well over twenty. Though they were just outlines of you and him kissing innocently, you always end up making out at the end of the story.

You weren't one of those twelve-year-olds who've had their first kisses already. Your mother kept a close eye on you in situations like this, so you would rather make out with your pillow than hear her nagging your ears off. Because of that, you grew up as a child unbothered by her love life, and the mere thought of kissing someone in real life makes your hair stand up. That's when you knew he brought out a lot of changes in you.

You swallow the lump of saliva in your throat. "Yeah, I have." You answer truthfully but still cautious of the words you put out.

"Really?" His head perks in your direction. "What did I do?"

You got a little nervous knowing he would undoubtedly interrogate you on this. But thankfully, you were prepared with a streamlined answer. "That's three questions, genius," You say, reaching for his head to give it a light smack, from which earns you a groan. "Save your chances for better questions."

"What do you mean? It's a good one. What did you dream about? I want to know."

"Okayy~ Next question. Where is that..." You switch the topic hastily, hands occupied with finding the question you were waiting to ask him through your notes. "Found it. Did you like anyone before me? If so, who are they?"

"That's two questions, though?"

"Nope. Not if you put them together." You smile at him cheekily, and he throws his head back in astonishment, mouth wide open, spewing out breathy wow's.

"You're playing it dirty, I see. Well, I had two other girlfriends before you." He brings his pinky finger out. "One was my sixth-grade classmate, and the other one was my best friend from the rink." He shoots his mouth off to chaff at you yet again.

A stiff frown crawls on your face as you nod at him sarcastically. "Oh, wow. Impressive." You hum in wonderment, silence unfurling in the suddenly insipid room.

Sunghoon knew you weren't easily irritated by these circumstances. If he were talking to a random girl on the street, more often than not, you would only think of them as one of his fans from the arena, nothing more. Even if he had to accomplish things with a girl in his class, you trusted him very much with your relationship to doubt him in his actions. And so, seeing you hush after a talk like this...

Of course, he would take it as a chance to play with you.

"Aww, is my precious little y/n jealous?" His voice sharpened one octave higher as he pats your head with a pout and mock sadness in his eyes. "What do I do? I kissed them, too."

You were okay with him having two other ones before you, but at the mention of a kiss, your figure skews his way. You weren't sure if he was hoaxing you or not, but to say so honestly, it troubled you. This wasn't the intention you had with your question. All you wanted to get out of it was something to tease him about when he says he has none, yet it was still you who got ragged of your own query.

However, that's beside the point. Was it necessary to point out those last words? It wasn't you to be agitated over something as dispensable as this, but of all things, why did he have to attack your weakness?

Sunghoon's sounds of laughter tear you away from your thoughts. "Got 'em~" He pulls a finger at you in another fit of laughter, seeing you in a state of total shock.

"What the heck? It was a lie?" You pull away firmly from his body, hitting him on the shoulder with force enough to make him wobble on the bed.

"You fell for it." He provokes you, head bouncing up and down in silent titters, and you smack his hand away, leaning back down on his shoulder.

"No, I didn't," You feel him nod abut your head, seeing mentally what teasing expression he has plastered on his face this time, but you only shrug it off. "Which part was the lie, though? You kissing them or being with them?"

"Can't answer that. Save your chances for better questions, cutie."

"Touché," You scoff. "What's the next question?"

"Well, since we came to the topic of kissing... When was your first kiss?" He converts his stare to a peer of glistening fervour. Though not as subtle as he would have probably wished it to be, you could sense the perceptive intent he was hiding behind his tone.

You render motionless. Never did you tell him anything about your dreams, nor would you ever have plans to tell him. It's a product of your wildest imaginations to feed your untold desires. It's what helps restrain the ungodly in you, but it also fuels you with the need to see what it actually is like. It's a continuous internal war going on in you, its purpose being to stop you from creating trouble for yourself. And now that you finally have him here, not going to lie, it's kind of embarrassing to acknowledge the profuse amount of dreams you had of him, moreover that he stole your first kiss... Except it was in your dreams, literally.

"I never had any," You answer, trying to stay as cool as possible. "I'm a good child who listens well to her mother, so don't think no one tried to hit on me once. I turned a lot of them down." A small smile trudges its way onto his face, but the way his eyes were fixated on you remained untypically the same.

"I don't know if I should be happy that you picked me out of all of them or be sad for those 'poor hearts' you broke." He draws an air quote along with his words, and you shake your head at him. "Don't worry. I won't tease you on this one. I just wanted to know." He mumbles quietly through a simper, moving to rest his head on yours.

Hearing that he'll cut you some slack relieved you, but one thing about his utterance caught you off guard. "Why do you want to know that?"

"That's the only way I'll get to know you deeper, Einstein," He retracts his head and nudges you on his shoulder, causing you to bump your head against its edge, a grunt following you. However, while you were still in the midst of justifying the whack he did on your head, he spins his vision to you in an adventitious celebration. "Oh- that's your tenth question, then!"

"Wait, hold on!" You haul over to straighten your posture, the creaking of the bed barely audible from the loudness of your opposition.

"It's my turn again." His eyes grow invisible from his cheeks, pushing it up into a smile. He just never gets tired of making fun of you. How you wish you could do the same to him. If only punching someone straight in the face denotes no wrongdoing, you would have done that ages ago.

"Bitch, why did you answer that?" You call him, blaming him with the irritation that you weren't able to control yourself.

"You ask, I answer. Isn't that how it goes?" He grins at you matter-of-factly, and you tousle your hair around in frustration.

"Ugh, you're crazy," You send glares up his way. "Whatever. Your last question, throw."

As if that was a signal he has been waiting for, Sunghoon shuts his phone and tucks it in his pocket. "How does it feel to kiss someone?"

You were confused. You just said you've never kissed anyone before.

A dry giggle leaves your mouth after much processing. You knew you shouldn't have trusted his words. No matter what you do, he'll find the cracks and holes to slip in his every jest. "I think you got the wrong person, kid. How do you think I'd know?"

"Hmm..." He drones, the ticking sound of the clock suddenly increasing in volume with every minute passing by. "Should we try it, then?" He suggests.

"What?" You were taken aback, a sudden chill sweeping through your body like a surge of cool air gashing through the enclosed room. What is he going on about?

Inch by inch, you feel him gravitate towards you, your torso backing up from his inclining frame until the warmth you caused on the cold wall completely presses against your back. Like the fire of a gun's bullet on a steady path, your heartbeat raced in a trice. His eyes stared at yours, tracing down to your parted lips as he led his other hand across your body, trailing up your arms to your shoulders, just until it reaches your jaw. Your breath hitched, lips shutting tightly as you gulp down at the presence of his queer boldness.

It's like the scenarios you formed in your head where he pins you against the wall, lips hovering yours with soft breaths that tickle your skin. Him studying your face with obstinacy to make you his, doing whatever it is that would make you happy. Nevertheless, he made sure to be cautious of things you wouldn't want him to do. He still respected you.

He's doing just the same thing, and it's getting you set on thinking whether this is all a dream taking too long to reach its climax or if your dreams are miraculously made into reality. But his next set of words were enough to tell you the clarification to your uncertainties.

"Please don't be mad." Without warning, his lips found their place on your light, pillowy ones. It felt like he was pouring out all emotions he's been holding in until now. He always controlled himself whenever you're around because he didn't want to disappoint your mother. But with this instance is a chance to do something he has long been dreaming of. He wasn't about to lose it.

The way his head tilts to the side to get a more comfortable position, eyes closing and immersed in the pleasure of your lips against his, got you clasping onto your blanket to ease the havoc he's causing in your guts. You froze at the contact. As if time had halted and the world stopped spinning, everything seemed to slow down at that moment. Maybe it was the sweet scent of his bergamot fragrance. Maybe it was the tightening of his grip on your jaw, or perhaps the longing you had for him that's enticing you in this position.

It's not every day that we get to see our dreams come true, and for one, it's a matchless feeling, especially when the dream is worthwhile. Slowly, you give in and close your eyes in the warmth of his touch. His lips parted to bite at your lower lip, and you overtly open your mouth to let him in.

"Do you think you could answer it now?" He questions you, but you couldn't comprehend what he was saying. You were too caught up in your own feelings during the whole session; you almost forgot what happened before it was done. Just when you thought he’d stop pulling out all the hidden quirks of yours, he caught you once again. And it didn't take long enough before you recollected yourself.

"Right. It's way better than I could have ever imagined." You smile at him, giving rise to the same smile as you.

"If this is how it will usually end, maybe I should start gathering more questions for you." He proposes, his head wheeling over to you with sheer excitement.

"Uh-huh... Just make sure you don't catch anything from the streets before you come over." You reply with a cackle, getting off his lap and sitting back down on the soft mattress.

It was supposed to be a dull and boring day. But with another chance that you two meet comes another something to remember forever. And you can't help but grin from ear to ear.

[thechangeling]

Ok so a conversation @littlx-songbxrd and I were having made me remember something I was ranting about to a friend of mine once.

Brace yourselves this is going to be long. I'm sorry.

The sexism, homophobia and racism of the shadoworld straight up doesn't make sense and here's why. So if we start chronologically with the infernal devices. There is sexism towards Charlotte right? People don't want her running the institute and they don't want her becoming the consul because she is a woman. But the Clave has no problem letting women train and fight. This doesn't really make sense in my opinion.

Now you could argue that it's because they believe woman can be string capable fighters just not rational thinkers. Which is weird because in my experience you don't meet a lot of people who are "partially sexist" in that way. Like if a man believes a woman can't do high profile, high paying jobs then they usually also don't want them in the military. Anyways moving on, there aren't any mentions of homophobia in TID, mostly because they're arent any queer characters except Magnus and Woolsey.

But something interesting to point out is that none of the characters who know about Magnus and Woolsey ever comment on it really. And following this point, none of the mains display any signs of misogyny either really. (Except for what Will says to Tessa at the end of CA but that was because of the "curse.") You could argue that this is because they're the protagonists so they are supposed to be better then that. But accidental microaggressions are pretty common especially during that time period. More on that later.

Moving onto racism, this is the interesting part. Jem says to Tessa that shadowhunters believe that you are a shadowhunter first and your nationality or eace second. Actually Jem doesnt mention race but he says this while talking about being half Chinese so it's kinda relevant. Shadowhunters rarely tall about race throughout the books in general except for a few instances. When Jessamine criticizes Jem to Tessa, she calls him a foreigner and says some other racist shit that I can't really remember. Something about the yin fin and calling him lazy. That directly contradicts Jem's statement about them all being shadowhunters first. Also Will and Jem actually constantly talk about being Welsh and Chinese in the books so that statement is kinda bogus in general.

And if CC didn't want her mains being sexist or homophobic to show them as good people then why was it ok for both Jesse and Gabriel to say questionable shit about Jem? Anyways moving on to TLH. Sexism is still running rampid with their cultural customs and people being shitty about Charlotte being consul. Bots have to ask the girls to dance, girls cannot have sex before marriage or else they will be ruined or whatever you know the drill. But again, they let the girls fight. Cordelia is allowed to carry around a giant ass sword but she can't get some????

IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE CASSANDRA!!!!!

Sorry I'm losing it. Anyways. Regarding racism. Alastair and Cordelia have experienced micro aggressions from the mains (Matthew and Anna) but it's never addressed. I'm pretty sure if memory serves, the inquisitor makes a nasty comment under his breath about persians when the Carstairs family sans Elias arrive. And then we have the whitewashing of Ariadne/Kamala by her parents.

But none of this stuff ever gets brought up really. Exceot for Kamala talking about her past and who she was before and sharing her original name, but she still doesn't talk about how it effects her potential coming out. Alastair doesnt mention race when he talks about the bullying he went through at the academy and none of the white characters ever stop to think about how Kamala and Alastsir's races play a part in their crappy situations.

There's probably more I could discuss with this but I'm moving on to homophobia. It's a thing in terms of the heteronormativity and people's judgement of Anna but it's not illegal like in mundane societies at this time. But all of the mains are totally cool with it which brings me to, I'm sorry but fucking bullshit! There is no way every single adult would be totally fine with it in this time period. Like I'm not saying outright homophobia but maybe some questionable comments you know? (CC is perpetuating this idea that good people never commit microaggressions which is untrue and harmful.)

I don't think there's any mention of whether or not gay marriage is allowed in the shadowhunter world at this point. Because the issues surrounding Magnus and Alec getting married were about Magnus being a warlock right? Because Helen and Aline got married before them in TFTSA because she was only half fae. So that brings me to when was gay marriage legalized in the shadow world?????

Is there any mention of this because I don't think there is? Anyways moving onto TMI. This is where everything goes to absolute shit in terms of world building with the standards for these things. Misogyny isn't really a problem in tmi anymore from what I remember. Nobody has issues with Jia as consul (from what I remember,) and that's that. But homophobia is still rambid throughout shadowhunter society so much so that Alec is terrified to come out because he believes that he can't be gay and be a shadowhunter in peoples eyes. Also there is pressure to "carry on the family name" which doesn't make sense because if the sexism has died out then women can have babies with whoever and not even be married and carry on their family line. And not everyone needs to have children, ergo there is less pressure on the sons to carry on the family name or whatever. This also doesn't make sense because homophobia literally cannot exist without sexism!!!!

This is because of colonial gender roles being forced on society. And men being with men and women being with woman totally smashes the whole gender roles, "woman do this and men do that" idea. There's more that I could say on that but this is already so freaking long so please just look it up. And speaking of gender roles it's literally mentioned that Maryse didn't teach Izzy to cook because she didn't want her to be forced into a housewife role like she was (although there's no evidence to suggest she was?) But then Maryse is lowkey homophobic?

It doesn't make sense Cassandra!!!!!

CC doesn't get that you literally don't have homophobia or transphobia without sexism. Indigenous societies pre-colonization didn't care about any of that stuff. Literally two spirit people were revered and respected and no one gave a fuck about gender until my ancestors literally came along and ruined everything. (I'm so sorry.)

But anyways there's no mentions of racism amongst the shadowhunters in tmi. Just Maia talking about her experiences with mundane society as a black girl. When Clary confronts Valentine and basically calls him a n*zi, he laughs at her and basically says that shadowhunters don't see race the way mundanes do which yikes @ CC. Granted this was 2007. This kind of sounds like what Jem said in TID. Only it clearly wasnt true.

Anyways I'm just super confused at this point. In TDA there was basically nothing in terms of all the isms and phobias. (Oh we arent even discussing ableism because my fucking head will explode!) But we do discuss transphobia a bit with Diana. But again it doesn't make fucking sense because transphobia exists because of sexism and clear gender roles (and homophobia.)

Society is still shown to be pretty heteronormative though which I guess makes sense but the Blackthorns have multiple queers in their family! You would think that they would be less so. When Livvy mentions all the reasons that Annabel could have a forbidden love she doesnt even think to mention that it could be a lesbian relationship. When Mark finds out that Jaime was in Dru's room he freaks out but I guarentee you, he wouldn't have if Jaime was a girl. I mean you could argue that it's an age thing and not a gender thing but idk. That scene always bothered the fuck out of me. Because Mark is literally half fae like why is he caught up on bullshit "boys and girls can't just be friends" hetero bullshit.

In QOAAD we see Dane Larksoear being sexist so randomly for no reason. Like it's so strange because CC literally created a caricature of a sexist villian with him. And it makes no sense because no one else seems to feel the way he does. Like Zara is basically the leader of the cohort right? And nobody gives a fuck. It makes no damn sense Cassandra!

And finally, why is the faerie world sexist with gender roles WHEN EVERYONE IS LITERALLY BISEXUAL AND THEY'RE FAERIES CASSANDRA!!!???? THEY'RE LITERALLY FAERIES WHY IS THERE A CONCEPT OF GENDER AT ALL CASSANDRA????!!!!

Ok lol now I'm done. Sorry this is so long. But yeah I'm so confused.

Tldr: CC's world building in regards to sexism, homophobia, racism and transphobia is very inconsistent and contradictory and it makes no damn sense.

[tf2-hellhole]

I wrote down my Hybrid AU Garbage

yeah I know it’s cringe lmao, I do what I want

you can request Hybrid AU content in the future if you want uwu

The Hybrid AU Universe:

Dog or cat hybrids are basically dogboys or catboys. Bird hybrids have wings and a tail, and sometimes feathers in their hair.

There are a couple work laws for hybrids, because sometimes they need additional training for jobs (just for stuff like keeping tails out of machinery and other safety precautions, how to use their animal senses to their advantage in the job, simple stuff like that).

Hybrid!Scout:

Mutt. He knows theres some Greyhound and a smidgen of Pitbull in him, but he doesn’t really know what else.

Light brown fur that matches his hair.

Raised very similarly to how normal Scout was raised, but was probably raised around lots of other hybrids (possibly a home for families) and rarely got enough to eat. He was caught several times stealing food all over Boston proper.

He claims he doesn’t give in to those instinct dog behaviors, but like four times a week he gets zoomies and runs all over the place like a maniac.

Hybrid!Soldier:

Pitbull mix, mostly American Bully.

Blondish/brownish fur that matches his hair.

Born and raised for illegal fighting. He, along with many other hybrids, were rescued when he was a young adult. He had lots of anxiety and fear-based aggression issues, but was taught to deal with them and began to recover once he was adopted.

He only really give in to instinctual behaviors when stressed or alone.

Hybrid!Pyro:

Breed unknown, but they are a dog and probably a Pomeranian.

Black fur.

Nobody knows exactly where Pyro came from, but they exhibit a lot of behaviors typical of hybrids that were abused or neglected while growing up. They refuse to talk to anyone about where they came from.

They honestly don’t give a shit about embarrassing themself and shamelessly give in to their dog instinct and do all sorts of stereotypical dog stuff.

Hybrid!Demo:

Purebred Smooth Collie; his bougie ass parents were pretty proud that the family’s purebred so he’s kinda proud of it too

Black fur, but tip of his tail is white, funnily enough

He grew up in a hybrid shelter and going to different families for a long time, but eventually his parents took him back. That’s all that really changes for Demo’s story.

He doesn’t really do much dog stuff other than crave pets and snuggles. From time to time he’ll boof on accident and gets embarrassed about it.

Hybrid!Heavy:

Siberian Mountain Cat

White and brown/grey fur

He and his family have always been independent and without owners after they left the gulag. Like canon Heavy, they spent most of their lives out in the wilderness alone.

He claims he doesn’t give in to his cat instincts, but he loves sitting or sleeping in the sun, and does use his senses in the field.

Hybrid!Engie:

Leaf-Cutter Bee

Only physical difference is wings. He can’t fly very well, though, since he doesn’t do it often/doesn’t need to fly.

Engie’s story is almost identical to that of canon Engie. The only difference is that he had trouble getting into university, as the only hybrid that had even been admitted to an American university at the time was his father.

Hybrid!Medic:

Domesticated Barbary Dove (Release Dove)

Pure white feathers, none in his hair.

His parents only partnered because purebred bird hybrids are kinda a status symbol. He found a fascination in hybrid anatomy and came to Mann Co. after studying it on his own for most of his life.

Indulges in a few bird instincts in private, if anyone found out he did he’d be so humiliated.

Hybrid!Sniper:

Doesn’t know what breed he is, he knows he’s a mutt though (he’s actually not, he’s a purebred Huntaway)

Brown ears that match his hair, black to brown tail.

His story is basically the same, except he knew he was adopted from the beginning, since the Mundies weren’t hybrids like him.

He doesn’t indulge in any dog instincts usually, but if he has an S/O, he has nasty separation anxiety and destroys stuff while they’re gone.

Hybrid!Spy:

He’s embarrassed to say it, but he’s a French Bulldog

Light brown fur that matches his hair, no tail (typical of nubtail breed hybrids).

Sold to and raised by a wealthy family, but eventually was kicked out. He was picked up by a crime group and turned into an assassin. He later left them and was an independent assassin, and later came to the US. There, he met a charming young hybrid, and the rest is history.

His only real dog trait is that he can be needy to an S/O. Also, he can do The Frenchie Scream.

[scarfacemarston]

Hello, just seen your post about the holidays season.

If it’s any consolation, im in a similar situation— it brings me so much anxiety and helplessness due to my mental illness and the environment is not safe for me but i have no choice. I just want to stay that i support you from the shadow, feeling what you feel about it, and loving you anonymously (im too shy to post with my acc)

I love your blog, you always do a great job, i hope you’ll continue to entertain us, lots of love, be well ❤️

First of all - thank you and everyone else for the lovely post. I feel guilty that I am just now getting to them. It isn't that I haven't wanted to! I've been feeling guilty that I ask for people to send me stuff and then I don't reply for a while. It's been exhausting here existing let alone putting up with the shit I do. I understand the environmental issue. So many people say "Well why don't you move?" not understanding how insensitive and privileged that is. I'm so sorry you're dealing with this. Stay strong. I know it's not easy. It's okay to be shy so no judgement here! TW Abelism and emotional abuse. Talking about my experience. Put under the keep reading section. For anyone - read at your risk.

I was talking about how humiliating it is as someone who is about to turn 27 that I can't drive. This is a safety and legal thing because I do not want to harm anyone while driving if I have a seizure. I could literally kill myself or someone else.

My family knows this very well but my mother throws it in my face. "Well, why don't you just drive? Oh, I think you're too scared to. You'll be fine. It's not that far" - um. No? This is after I was talking about how humiliating it is for me to ask my father to sometimes drive me because I DONT want to burden him because he has his own life. "You're father is getting old and is weak. I don't know about you, but I love him and I'm not going to let you do this." ---This is why I pay extreme amounts of money to get things delivered so I don't have to burden anyone. Second of all, asking to go to the store once every two to three weeks. (And asking very nicely never demanding -) is apparently me not caring about my father. She always says "It's your fault if you give him a heart attack".

My father was perfectly fine taking me and was bored as hell because mother has forbidden him to do most things outside of a few errands for himself. Getting into fights so nasty over the stupidest things like Christmas cookies. Legit fights. I'm the youngest in the house at 26. (Yes, I know, I need to move but it's very expensive to move out where I live.)

Giving me the silent treatment when I call her out for her behavior - that or cries when I dare try to set up boundaries. (As guided by a therapist) Then gives the silent treatment to my FATHER who literally didn't do a thing.

Another example of her shit: I accidentally got very sick while traveling over something stupid I did - it wasn't deadly and it was nothing illegal. Just something that didn't agree with my system and was outside of the "norm" for our household. She told me that I'm lucky she didn't tell the whole family.

When she fucks up, instead of apologizing - she buys things - none of which I ask for and all junk - gets angry when I'm not "grateful" enough.

My father is a very strong man. Very stoic and stubborn, but a genuinely sweet man. He is the one who had TB twice. HOWEVER, it was a DIFFERENT kind than what Arthur had. She has nearly made my father cry multiple times in the past few months and after I invited him to a therapy session - my therapist straight up told my father she's abusive. He was understandably in denial - but now he admits it. "She makes me feel like I'm a bad man". - my dad after cleaning something in a way she doesn't like. And yet doesn't understand why he's depressed.

Mother and I fight nonstop about every fucking thing because I try so damn hard to put up boundaries but she mocks me and insults me every time. It's hard enough the rest of the year, but the holidays are the worst because she wants a "Hallmark" Christmas and that isn't achievable because it's fake. It doesn't exist. These are just a few reasons why it's been so rough.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction | You’re An Idol and He Finds Sleeping Tablets [Request]

A/N: I am in no way saying that taking sleeping tablets is bad because I use them a lot, I have to or I just don’t sleep

Seokjin

You knew the life you signed up for was a hard one but you also knew you could manage it but lately things had been getting a lot harder with comeback season coming up and trying to keep your group of 17 members under control as well as have them all learning the choreography as well as keeping all of it on top of you as well. You were the leader so you took everything to you instead of letting your members deal with everything.

"Jin?" You called out when you woke up to him walking around your studio, you were taking a small nap on the sofa since your insomnia played up a lot and you tried to get as much sleep as you could whenever you could.

"Sorry, I was coming to bring you food and saw you sleeping." He held up a bag full of food and you sat up telling him to get you some chopsticks from the top drawer of your desk. You kept almost everything in your studio since you practically lived there, along the top shelf there were bathroom products and you had spare clothes stuffed away as well in case you ever had to stay the night.

"Have you been working on new songs again?" He questioned when he noticed the producing set up sitting on your desktop,

"Yeah, It was a ballad that Soona was working on with me." You'd told him about the second oldest member of the group before and he smiled at how fond you were of her you'd always expressed that you were scared that you wouldn't get along with them but everything seemed smooth enough.

"What drawer?" Jin questioned as he got to your desk,

"Top one, should be towards the back." You began laying the containers of food out onto the coffee table in front of you when you heard Jin gasp and you frowned turning to see him holding a bottle of unmarked pills,

"What are they?!" You heard the panic in his voice as he began to list off all possibilities that they could be but not coming close to what they actually were,

"They're just sleeping tablets." You whispered taking the small tub away from him and putting them onto the shelf,

"They're not prescribed to you, you shouldn't be taking them." You rolled your eyes at him and he sat down in front of you trying to make you see how serious this was,

"What if it wasn't me that had found them? What if someone told tabloids?" You knew he was right deep down but it was the only pill that would help you sleep,

"They help me-"

"We will find something else, I don't want you to take anything unless it's prescribed to you." He shifted so he was sitting beside you and he pulled your head down to rest on his shoulder,

"Jin-"

"I mean it y/n, I won't hear anything else." You nodded in agreement knowing he was right and you shouldn't take anything unless a doctor gave them to you.

Yoongi:

Your group was just as big everywhere as BTS was which meant you were under a lot of stress just like the guys but your group was significantly larger than BTS which made it a little harder and felt like you were constantly looking after 10 giant children but you knew others had it more stressful than you.

"You okay?" Yoongi asked when he noticed you looking around your bedroom for something,

"Yeah." You lied knowing you'd put your sleeping tablets somewhere but you couldn't find them now. You needed them to sleep or you couldn't fall to sleep, you would end up laying there awake and staring at the ceiling while worrying about everything going on with your group instead of getting some well-needed rest.

"You sure?" You looked over at him and he was holding the bottle of red and blue sleeping tablets that you normally kept in your bedside drawer but he'd clearly found them and was going to question you about them,

"Why do you need sleeping tablets?" You looked at the bottle and tried to snatch them out of his hand but he was too quick for you,

"Well?" You looked down at the floor biting down on your lip and tried to think of something, anything, you could say to make him give you those pills back.

"You know what it's like when you can't sleep-"

"I do but I don't take pills to help me." He shot back and you stared at him a little shocked that he would snap at you like that, it wasn't as if you were taken them illegally. They were given to you by a doctor and you were kept under regular observation to see if anything needed to be changed from them.

"Yoongi. My doctor gave them to me. My insomnia is kicking my ass lately." He instantly felt bad for snapping at you the way he did, he knew they were prescribed he could see that from the bottle but he didn't think you would ever need them,

"You usually tell me when you're struggling." He mumbled handing you the bottle back and watching as you took one out to take,

"I didn't want to come to you with this." You whispered staring at the pill in your hand, you wanted nothing more than to not have to rely on them but it was just something you had to deal with.

"Baby I didn't mean to yell..." He kissed your cheek and you took the tablet looking at him and nodding knowing he was sorry,

"I promise next time when I'm giving something to help me I will let you know about it." He brushed the hair from your forehead and kissed your lips softly.

"Let's get settled okay?" You nodded and got into the bed, laying in front of him as he spooned you from behind, kissing your shoulder softly.

Hoseok:

Being the leader wasn't all it was cracked up to be, you thought it was going to be fine when you were first assigned as the leader but it was hard and full of sleepless nights. You were always worried about your other members, and when you weren't worrying about them you were working on new songs, new dance routines or stressing over things that weren't yours to stress over but it fell onto you as the leader of your group.

"You deserve the break." Your maknae said as Hoseok was packing up clothes for you. Your boyfriend was taking you out on a week-long holiday since it was your month break and he had some time off too.

"I have so much to do though." You whispered as your member walked you into the bedroom and sat you down on your dorm bed,

"Make them relax." The maknae warned Hoseok who chuckled going into the bathroom and calling out asking what you wanted packing.

"I'll do it!" You said in a rush running into the bathroom to stop him from going through the cabinets but he was already searching through them.

"I've seen tampons and pads before it's not big-" He stopped himself from speaking when he found a bottle of pills with your full name and date of birth as well.

"Hobi-"

"What are they?" He asked reading the label and having no idea what they were,

"Temazepam, it's a sleeping tablet. A strong one." You whispered taking the bottle from him and sliding them into the bag that he was packing,

"Why-"

"Because it's stressful being the leader of 14 giant children and having the entire company down my neck about how I need to keep them in control." You whispered not wanting the group to hear you talking the way you were. None of them knew that the company was always breathing down the back of your neck about the way they acted and how you never got anything done on their time scale.

"I struggle sleeping so it's just a little helper...and it's only when I need to. I don't take them all the time." He sighed looking at you, you were almost in tears at the thought of leaving your members here while taking a break when you knew you should have been working.

"They gave you the month off for a reason, we're going to get you well rested." You nodded and he told you to start coming to him when things got too much for you to handle.

Namjoon:

Namjoon knew you struggled a lot with your group since you were the leader like him but you have 20 other members to look after, you were a huge group mixed with boys and girls and you were huge in the kpop scene. He knew you kept a lot of your struggles and stress to yourself but he was still surprised when he found the sleeping pills sitting on the bedside table, he'd gone to your dorms to surprise you but the only member home was the maknae who said you were running late.

"Namjoon's here?" He could hear your panicked tone through the dorm bedroom and he waited on the bed holding the bottle of pills, he'd been reading through the ingredients and then researching them online for you.

"Joonie?" You questioned staring at him as he held some of the tablets in his hand staring at them,

"They're not prescribed by a doctor." He mumbled staring at them and you snatched them out of his hand and put them onto the bedside table again.

"Because they're safe, they're herbal and I get them from a medicine shop." You told him not meaning to snap and be nasty to him but you'd had a long day and coming home to your boyfriend going through your things wasn't making things easier for you.

"They're not prescribed!" He yelled and you stared at him and then at the pills on the side,

"No, but they help!" You finally yelled back and he stared at you, you never yelled at him even when you had your fights you would never yell back at him so he knew he'd struck a nerve with it.

"It's not as if I'm doing lines of coke Joonie, or doing worse things. They're safe and my manager knows about them." You defended yourself and he could tell you were upset about it so he brought you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest rubbing the small of your back as you stayed silent not knowing what to say.

"It's so hard Namjoon." You whimpered and he hummed kissing the top of your head as you ranted about the stress that you were under by management to keep everyone under control as if they were only your responsibility and not the company, you had no help with looking after them and you had to make sure they were under control at all hours of the day.

"I just need to sleep that's all there for." He hummed and laid down on the bed so you were laying on his chest, he kissed your head as you continued to talk but your words were starting to slur since you were half asleep.

"Sleep." He whispered when you tried to stay awake, you didn't fight him on it you just nodded and drifted off to sleep without the help of the small tablets for once.

Jimin:

Jimin had flown out to surprise you while you were on tour with your group and you were beyond shocked.

"I can't believe you're actually here!" You yelled as you finally got back to your hotel room, you were so surprised when he'd started clapping from the side of the practice stage.

"I thought you could use a cheer up." He must have seen the photos of you and your members looking sad when you arrived in England, but it wasn't anything bad you had just gotten scolded by management on the plane because some of the members were being louder than usual and you were getting it the worst since you were the leader.

"I'm fine, but thank you, baby." You giggled as he kissed your lips and then backed you up towards the bed, you didn't get to see each other a lot so it was a nice surprise to have him with you.

"Do you have erm-" He nodded and reached into his bag to find some but he groaned not being able to find the condoms in there,

"I think I have some in my purse." He walked over to your bags and you told him to look through it for them, but instead of finding the condoms he found pills and frowned pulling them out and reading out the long name that was on the front. Your eyes widened as he found the strongest sleeping tablet the doctor had prescribed to you.

"What's it for?" He questioned not noticing or knowing the name of them,

"They're to help me sleep." You said bluntly taking the bottle and putting it down on the counter, you tried to kiss him but he pulled away shaking his head.

"You need help sleeping?" You nodded and he stared at you, only just now noticing how tired you looked. You weren't in the usual makeup your management made you wear and he could see the bags under your eyes and you looked like you hadn't slept all night.

"What?" You whispered trying to hide but he groaned pulling you into a hug and walking you to the bed, he laid down beside you and made you promise to take a nap with him now.

"I'm fine Jimin." You tried to tell him but he wasn't going to listen to you, he wanted you to be well-rested and he was going to take a long nap beside you.

Taehyung:

"You have to go again?" He asked when he noticed you packing up a bag for the second time that week, it was supposed to be your week off but your company kept calling to tell you to go back to the dorms. You were the leader of a group of 12 members and you were under a lot of stress to keep them under control as well as make sure you were taking care of yourself again.

"Yeah. Noise complaint." You grumbled not wanting to leave your boyfriend, Taehyung, at his apartment alone but you knew if you didn't go back and sort it now it would only be bad news.

"Can't they look after themselves?" You sighed looking in your bag to make sure you had everything,

"Evidently not." You mumbled looking up to see him, he was just as stressed as you were but he was stressed about not being able to see you and trying to take a break away from his famous lifestyle.

"Sorry baby, I'll be back tomorrow-"

"Don't bother. You're just making excuses to leave, why don't you just break up with me?" You stared at him, you knew he was insecure about your relationship since you had to hide it and were always busy so it made it seem as though you didn't want him when you did.

"Tae I love you more than I can ever find the words to say it, I wouldn't break up with you."

"Prove you love me. Stay here." You pulled your bag over your shoulder and shook your head,

"I can't Tae, I'll come back later when I've calmed them down." You tried to give him a kiss but he pulled away and held onto your bag trying to get you to stay but he ended up pulling the bag and knocking the contents onto the floor.

"Sleeping pills?" He asked when he noticed you reaching for the bottle of them, you nodded and slid them into your bag.

"You are sleeping?" You shook your head again and he frowned looking at you and then at the door.

"Are they looking out for you the way you look out for them?" You stayed silent and he grabbed his car keys telling you that he was going to go and talk to your members but you begged him not to, you didn't want to be the reason there was more stress in the group.

"I promise I'll come back tonight...I never need them when I'm with you Tae, it's just them." You whispered kissing his cheek and letting yourself out of the apartment. Taehyung was still going to talk to your managers about the stress they had you under.

Jungkook:

Jungkook knew that you struggled with your sleeping patterns but he had no idea it was at the point where you were taking pills to help you finally drift off. Your insomnia was a huge bitch to you which sometimes was a blessing since you were the leader of your group and you were the main producer of songs and would spend all of the time you should have been sleeping in making music but it was getting harder now. You were falling asleep during important meetings due to the lack of sleep and you had even fallen asleep in a fan meet which ended up in a scandal in the media.

"Shit." You hissed as you ankle came out from underneath you during practice and your members yelled as you tried to get up only falling back down, Jungkook came rushing over with your bag looking through it for some painkillers when he found the sleeping tablets he said nothing in front of the others and waited until he got you back to your dorms to question you about them.

"Are you not sleeping enough?" You looked down at the tablets and shook your head,

"I don't have enough hours in the day to sleep and my doctor told me I have to take them...but Jungkook I can't...I don't, can't sleep. I have so much to do and there aren't enough hours in the day." He sighed getting into the bed beside you and letting you rant about all of the things that were laid on your shoulders to do since you were the leader of your group.

"Why don't you talk to your manager about cutting you some slack?" You shook your head explaining that you'd tried all of that before,

"It's my responsibility." You whispered feeling tired from the practice and having Jungkook holding you was making you feel more relaxed by the second,

"I'll stay here all night if you want?" You nodded and he laid down on the bed so you were snuggled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you drifted off to sleep beside him. He made plans to ask Namjoon for tips for you on how you could make sure you get enough rest as well as get the things that needed doing done.

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