#YOU did so much FUCKED UP SHIT to me and you NEVER ACCEPTED ANY REALITY BUT ME HURTING YOU ON PURPOSE

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

#sdmi #scooby doo: mystery incorporated #pericky #ricky owens #professor pericles #anyway fucking end me actually. lay me down to die #i said i was gonna write more pericky and by fucking god i did #the 'why did you do this to me' to 'oh thank god you didn't actually do this to me' pipeline of abuse folks 🥲 #which like. their last conversation is yet another devastating example of ricky finally standing up to pericles' bullshit Too Late #ricky denounces him in the strongest terms he knows; based on his own feelings and opinions and the way he sees the world #(which: even then he can't bring himself to say 'i don't love you anymore') #(the closest he can get is 'i chose you and i can't take it back; the only way i can imagine not loving you is if i never had at all') #and pericles tries to go 'nyeh nyeh whatever i don't care' (and does a real bad job of pretending he is not obviously hurt lmao) #and ricky doesn't try to understand his logic; he doesn't try to reconcile a world where pericles didn't *really* mean to do anything wrong #his response is MAYBE YOU *SHOULD* CARE. #pericles' view of the world and what's right and acceptable are warped and *wrong* and he's the one who needs to get his shit together #'you shouldn't have abused me you shouldn't have killed cassidy you shouldn't have murdered a child in cold blood' #that is MASSIVE and i think it is really telling that pericles' response is to shut him down with force instead of trying to argue any more #and that in the end is the real true fucking tragedy of it all #ricky is making huge strides one after the other to take back his freedom from pericles emotionally #....and materially it makes no difference to improve his situation in the moment; because pericles doesn't have any less power to abuse him #he never has a triumphant moment where he Overcomes His Abuser and Breaks Out of His Control #there's nothing he can do to fight back until pericles is too Literally Dead to control him anymore #it is one of the rawest depictions of the reality of abuse i've ever seen and just. God. i love it so much #(at the same time i REALLY want to explore a version of events where he got the chance to expand further on that growth) #(the 'all witches are selfish; make all things yours; i have a duty' speech from the wee free men comes to mind) #whosebaby makes things #whosebaby writes #SDMItag #dyn: when i die i want you to die too

[isildheir]

Honestly, my abuser saying Louis was just as bad as Lestat or basically implying they hate how people write Lestat off as more abusive than he is or that Louis was just as abusive was a red flag I should've put a lot more stock into.

#The guy was Empathizing with a capital E. #God hold me back cuz I LAUGH at them. Abuser all weh u..abused me..cuz...u called me stupid and annoying when I wouldn't let u leave me #after ur 30239929292th attempt #Youre abusive cuz...u made me feel so unloved when you kept trying to leave me! :'((( #LMAOAOOA yeah if thats abuse then slap my ass and call me sally cuz ill always try to leave you #You fuckin insane psychopath. constantly putting damn words in my mouth and telling ME what i ACTUALLY mean #you dont care about anything i have to say. you need to be the one slighted to justify why you feel so offended 24/7. #dude u wanna be a fucking victim so bad then fuckin be my guest u fuckin miserable sick sad sack of absolute dog shit #always calling me a liar and putting me on the podium to state my case infinite times till you hammered me into gaslighting myself #to support your interpretation. go to hell. #you are chronically miserable for a reason. and you will NEVER find reprieve in that. EVER. just as you deserve. #YOU made me start therapy because of the CONSTANT confusion and emotional trauma i endured with you. #YOU made me cry all the time at work. #YOU gave me chest pains and difficulty breathing. just seeing YOUR DAMN NAME on my phone gave me panic attacks #YOU did so much FUCKED UP SHIT to me and you NEVER ACCEPTED ANY REALITY BUT ME HURTING YOU ON PURPOSE #you literally tell me 24/7 i dont care about you and i would drop THOUSANDS of dollars on you #AND FUCKIN WATCH UR SHOWS 3 TIMES IN A ROW #AND CALL AND TEXT U EVERY NIGHT. SIT AND HELP YOU PREP FOR JOB INTERVIEWS. #I DREW UR DAMN OC SO OFTEN HE PRACTICALLY BECAME MY MOST DRAWN CHARACTER #I DID SO MUCH TO SHOW U I CARED. BE IT GIFTS. MONEY. BE IT TIME. BE IT HELPING IN #UR VTUBING CAREER U WANTED TO START. #BE IT SPENDING NIGHTS SOMETIMES TILL 6AM JUST MAKING SURE YOU'RE OKAY. #I JUST. DID. SO. FUCKING. MUCH. IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU. I HOPE YOU DIE. SUFFER. BURN IN HELL. #I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. I WILL NEVER STOP HATING YOU. #I GAVE YOU SO MUCH. I WAS HAPPY TO TOO. WHAT A FOOL I WAS. NOTHING I DID WAS EVER ENOUGH. YOU ALWAYS HAD TO FUCKIN COMPARE #OR GET JEALOUS WHEN I SPENT ONE SECOND WITH ANYONE ELSE #U NEEDED TO GRILL ME FOR EVERYTHING #ASK WHO I WAS WITH #NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING JUST IN CASE IT WAS SOMEONE YOU DIDNT LIKE #UR FUCKIN ABSURD. UR INSANE. ROT IN HELL. FUCKIN GET TORN APART DOWN THERE. I HOPE YOU SUFFER. I WANT TO WATCH. I WILL LAUGH.

[coriolantha]

‧˚₊•୨ Patience ୧•‧₊˚⊹

mike schmidt x GN! reader

summary: mike comforts you after you've had a long day₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆୨୧˚

tags: fluff, mike being a sweetheart (as always), anxiety, reader has bad self image, insecurities, reader is overwhelmed and needs a break (so real), hugging, cuddling, comfort

wc: 1.1k

notes: hii this is my first fic i've posted on here. ngl i'm... scared. im not proud of this but i can't scrap it this time otherwise i'm never gonna get anything posted LMAO. please leave any criticism in the comments if you'd like, feel free to share any opinions, i want to improve the quality of my writing! thank you sm for reading! 🫶

today has been punishing.

rain trickled down the foggy window, making soft tapping sounds as they hit and fell, reluctantly racing down to gather in the weep holes. the rough, scratchy carpet beneath you beginning to burn as you shuffled around your desolate home.

exhausted, you gave up trying to distract yourself from your main task; your bedroom.

your eyes darted around your cluttered room, glossing over as you noticed every individual piece of clothing that wasn't hung up, organized, and neatly put away. you began to have a headache thinking about where to even begin. you felt like a filthy slob, your surroundings perfectly reflecting how you've felt all day.

you flicked the lights off, the warmly lit room now becoming pitch black, except for the small gleam of light that came through the open door. you sat on your bed, absentmindedly kicking your various pants and t-shirts away from you to give yourself some room to lay down.

mike wouldn't be back home for a while now. it was only 12:45am, which gave you 5 hours and 25 minutes to attempt to sleep before having to get ready for your office job... which would leave little to no time to spend with mike.

fuck mondays.

turning over to your side, you hugged your knees, shivering. no amount of blankets could fix how cold you felt. the truth was, you missed your boyfriend; longing for his cozy hugs and soft, gentle kisses he'd press against your cheek as he consoled you.

you missed him more than anything in the world.

with a blink, the tears that have been collecting in your eyes came down your flushed face at once. laying there, you accepted your pitiful reality, slowly drifting off into unwanted slumber, in solitude.

the time was around 2am when you felt a dip into the bed. panicking, you quickly awoke, shuffling to sit up as fast as possible. although you didn't know of the time, something felt off. mike wasn't supposed to be home yet, that's for sure.

panic turned into confusion as you heard mike, obviously feeling guilty for having jumpscaring you so badly.

"oh, shit- baby, it's me," he whispered apologetically, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. turning on the dim lamp, he quickly turned back to face you. his eyes bore into yours, scanning to make sure you were going to be alright.

all day he was desperate to see your face, even after his shorter-than-usual-shift. mike couldn't get enough of your perfection, although you always brushed him off whenever he ever mentioned this to you.

he noticed your terrified expression which started to wear off, beginning to blend into relief.

"it's just me... you don't need to worry about anything, okay? i'm right here, no one's gonna hurt you," he muttered, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on your lips, lingering longer than usual.

weight lifted off your shoulders as you began to put pieces together. now, all you needed was an answer to your burning question.

"mike, why did you come home so early? did something happen?" you asked anxiously, looking right back at your boyfriends affectionate, adoring eyes.

"oh, sweetheart..." he soothed, "i got let out early today. nothing worth worrying about. i guess they didn't need me as much as i thought they did," he let out a quick, dry laugh, shaking his head dismissively.

"fuck, i've missed you all day, i'm so damn glad i could leave that job early. anything to see you, my love," he cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, delicately tucking it behind your ear

you were in awe; it was a miracle he came home early, especially today. you were fighting to hold your tears back, mouth quivering as you bit your bottom lip. mike noticed your change in emotion immediately.

"hey hey hey," he whispered urgently, quickly grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze, "what's wrong?" his voice drowned in concern.

"i did nothing all day. the only thing i've done is just stand around and... thought of doing something, but i couldn't. i was so tired, but of what? like, why didn't i clean our room? and the worst part is, you have to come home, tired as hell, ready to go to sleep, only to see your messy room and your partner who still hasn't done anything about it," you quavered, sniffling softly as warm tears fell from your eyes.

mike said nothing, but you could sense how hurt he felt after you talked so badly about yourself. he sighed, laying down on the plush mattress. he patted his chest, inviting you to rest your head there. you did so immediately, closing your eyes as you listened closely to his heart beat.

"you know i love you, right?" he asked gently. you stayed quiet, knowing he wasn't expecting an answer.

"i love everything about about you. but the only thing i don't love is how badly you talk of yourself. i hate it. it doesn't make any sense to me," he stressed, stroking your hair soothingly.

"so what if our room is messy? i don't think about that when i come home. all i think about is how i can finally be with you. i'm not going to let some clothes on the floor get in the way of us, ever. or anything, in fact."

you nodded in agreement silently, your tears dry on your cheeks.

"we can tackle this room together. we can do this however you want- i can pick up your clothes while you organize them into whichever area they go to, and i'll pick up my clothes too, but you won't have to organize that, i'll take care of it. how does that sound?" he asked delicately.

you instantly felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

"thank you so much, mike. you don't know how much i needed you today," you exhaled, "really."

he looked down lovingly at you, curled up beside him. he kissed your head tenderly, rubbing up and down your back.

goosebumps spread across your arms. you felt so loved and safe.

"the real question is," you suddenly asked, "how are you so perfect? were you made in a factory or something?"

"says you," he laughed, holding you tighter.

the two of you basked in the love you had for one another for a while. no words were exchanged, only him occasionally rubbing his thumb against your arm, while you began to doze off, which caught his attention.

"want me to turn the light off?"

you nodded, wrapping your arm around his stomach.

he turned over once more, pulling the cord of the lamp light, the room now pitch black.

"i love you," he whispered, turning to his side a little more so he could be pressed closer against you.

"i love you too, mike. always," you mumbled back, the two of you drifting off to sleep.

₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊୨୧₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊

dividers by @f-loqweres 🫶

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader fluff #fluff #mike schmidt x gn!reader fluff #comfort fanfic #comfort fluff #comfort #lovers #self love #jhutch #fanfiction #fanfic

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Three

Summary: You feel guilty about having a night out and hope to cover up your tracks as best you can Pairing: f!reader x Jeon Jungkook Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: Yändere, smut, explicit language pretty much it lol a/n: I hope you guys like it! I'm literally horrible at writing smut but I wanted to show another side to how things can be with him sometimes (I'm saying him because I'm not gonna spoil it when you can just read it lol) regardless hope this doesn't disappoint 🫢 Requested by @kkusadmirer 💜

"Girl who was that?" Rae asks, when she walk over to my side of the bar after Jungkook left. 

"His name is Jungkook and honestly I don't really know much about him. He caught me off guard and was asking me a bunch of questions that I didn't really think to ask him any" I say, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "You think he's cute don't you?" she asks taking note of my shyer demeanor while thinking about him. 

"He is attractive and dreamy but I'm married" I say flashing the ring at her in a similar fashion as I had done with Jungkook. "Dreamy? Really?" she teases, snorting at my description. "I'm sorry okay he's the first nice guy I've actually talked to in a while since my husband and I got married" I say, resting my elbows on the bar and throwing my face in my hands. 

"From what I heard, doesn't really sound like he's all that good of a husband" she says, not bothering to spare my feelings. "He's not that bad" I mumble, scarcely believing my words with every effort I put in to defend him.

"If you've gotta say it like that after only two people have said otherwise I don't really think you've got much going for you" she says setting a glass of water in front of me, already seeing signs of a need to stop drinking for the night.

"I mean, he's all I've ever known. He was my first serious boyfriend, my first everything if I'm being honest. We met in college and really hit it off and everything just felt right. After we graduated he asked me to marry him and it felt like a fairy tale ending you know?" I say, swirling around the ice in my cup in an effort to avoid her gaze.

"Sounds like it didn't turn out the way you thought it was going to though" she says, clearly feeling sorry for me. 

"Things between us are fine" I say sitting back up and clearing my throat before taking a drink of water to hopefully help me swallow down this lump in my throat. Getting a reality check from two perfect strangers with them only knowing the tip of the iceberg of my marriage has been hard to accept to say the least. 

"What's his name anyways? I might've seen him before if he likes to go out sometimes" she asks, coming back over with a pitcher to fill up my water, encouraging me to drink more. 

"Taehyung, well Tae for short" I say, hoping and praying that the name won't ring a bell. "Got a picture of him?" she asks, leaning in closer when I pull out my phone. "Shit" she says under her breath as soon as she sees him. 

"What?" I ask pulling it back as though her words had stung me. "He's come here a few times with some friends of his. They're one of the rowdier groups that comes by so we've had to kick them out on occasion" she says clearing her throat at the end, almost as if she's trying to hold something back. 

"If you know anything else about him please tell me" I implore, refusing to be in the dark about this if she knows. "He's gone 'home' with a few girls here" she says putting home in quotes since he's obviously never brought them back to our place. "Do you know how many?" I ask, knowing that I really don't want to know the answer. 

"I've lost track..." she answers, hating that she had to be the one to reveal this to me. "Did you know?" she asks with her brows pinched together. "That he's been sleeping around? Yeah, I know" I say taking a big gulp of my water as if it were the solution to this fucked up life I'm living. 

"Why haven't you left?" she asks, genuinely concerned. "He's my husband" I say with glossy eyes but then clear my throat again to hopefully curb these emotions. "And? He's a dick" she says, continuing with her efforts to never pull punches. "You don't know him like I do" I say, standing up and grabbing my purse to go. 

"Just, be careful okay?" she implores, placing her hand on top of mine before I get too far. "I will" I say and give her a sad smile before walking out and waiting for the cab I called a few moments ago. 

~~~~~~

Walking into the house I'm relieved to see that Taehyung is no where to be found, the lights still having been turned off from when I had locked up. 

Taking off my shoes, I quickly put them in the closet in an effort to quickly cover my tracks and I run into the bedroom soon after that. I take off my clothes and throw them into the washer to again avoid any suspicions because I don't want him even remotely knowing that I managed to leave the house on my own again.

Walking into the bathroom to take a shower as well I see that somehow some of the makeup I had applied rubbed off and I was unknowingly sporting one of the hickeys Taehyung had left. I look at it in the mirror a bit closer, starting to wonder how long it's been showing. 'Did Jungkook see it?' I question,  really hoping the answer is no even though he knows I'm married, it's not something I want to show off.

It could've been worse though, he could've seen the other bruises I have that clearly show evidence of much more than just rough sex. 'How would he have reacted? Would he have said something?' I continue, asking myself question after question, soon starting to regret my decisions of going out tonight. 

Did I have a good time? Sure. But it doesn't make up for the amount of fear and guilt I'm going to feel if Taehyung finds out. Will he do something? Will he get angry? Will he leave? Knowing him he would accuse me of cheating on him even though I'm the one who confirmed my suspicions. 

He, like Rae is someone that doesn't pull punches literally and figuratively. It's something that I've leaned to live with, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Hey" I hear him say softly while opening the bathroom door, scaring me and not even realizing how lost in thought I had been. To the point of not even realizing that he had gotten home. 

"Hi" I say timidly, not knowing what his next move might be. 

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he questions in a mischievous tone, already taking his shirt off. I open the glass door as a way to invite him in and I hold out my hand waiting for him, knowing I really have no choice in the matter. 

"Hi beautiful" he says after getting in, placing his hands on my hips and leaning down to kiss me softly on the lips. I sigh into the kiss, thankful he's back home again and showing his softer side to me again, clearly trying to make up for how we had left things the last time we saw each other. 

"I missed you" he says in a husky voice leaning down further to place a few open mouthed kisses on my neck marking me again, no doubt to make up for the ones that had started to fade. "Missed you" I say through a breathy tone then my breath hitches moments later when he bites down on my shoulder.

"You smell so sweet baby" he says running his nose along the length of my neck before making his way back up to kissing me. "It's my" *kiss* "new" *kiss* "body wash" I say, trying my best to answer but he purposefully works against me, loving the struggle I put up.

"I like it. Buy it again for me when you run out okay? I want my pretty wife smelling like this all the time" he says before flipping me around and pressing my chest agains the wall.

"You gonna be good and let me take you in here?" he asks grinding his dick against my ass making my breath pick up, not expecting this drastic change in behavior. I nod my head with my cheek against the tiles. He presses his chest flush up against my back, pushing me up against the wall even harder, making my chest feel sore as my nipples rub up against the cool surface, making me whine from the sensation.

"Aw look at you, so needy and ready to be full" he say, leaning back a bit and running his finger along my slit, feeling how I'm already clenching around nothing and dripping with arousal as the water falls on my back in a steady stream. "Fuck you look so hot right now" he says looking at my face and dragging his eyes down my figure before spreading my legs a bit and making moves to put it in. 

"Wait" I whimper. "Don't worry, you can take it" he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder before sliding the tip in and making me take in a sharp breath at the intrusion, him continuing to push himself further and further inside until he's bottomed out. 

He enjoys the feeling of my walls spasming around him as I feel the burn from trying to get used to him again. It isn't like this often, he usually loves to take his time prepping and teasing me until I'm begging for more but he had an almost urgency to be inside me this time. 

"Fuck" he says as he starts to move in and out of me, watching the way my ass moves with every thrust and is addicted to the moans that come from me naturally, being caught off guard by all of this and not expecting this to happen tonight. 

"Feels s-so good" I say, clawing at the walls for something to hold onto, knowing there's nothing there for me. He takes notice and he places his hands on top of mine, thrusting in and out with only his own hips supporting mine as he growls in my ear. 

"Been dying to fuck this pretty little cunt all day. Then I come home and you're in the shower making it so easy for me to just slip it in, practically begging for my cock" he says as he slows down his thrust but puts more force behind each one. 

"Isn't that right? You just want to be good for me and take it, let me have my way with you" he says pulling out and flipping me around, enjoying the dick drunk look on my face. He lifts one of my legs up and wraps it around his waist, pounding into me harder making me grab onto his neck and pull him in for a kiss, silencing my moans, making him swallow them as he coaxes more and more out of me. 

"S-shit" he stutters and tells me to jump, wrapping my other leg around his waist as well so he can thrust into me harder. I clench around him when he wraps his mouth around one of my sensitive buds, hard and begging for stimulating. 

"Fuck, more" I whine, desperately needing release. "You wanna cum?" he taunts, letting go of my throbbing bud with a pop. "Tae please" I moan digging my nails into his shoulders. He groans at the feeling and grips onto my waist digging his fingers into them, no doubt leaving bruises.

Giving me a few more thrusts he has my eyes rolling back and my toes curling as my orgasm hits me like a ton of bricks with him still fucking into me, helping me ride it out before he cums a couple minutes later. 

Slipping out and sliding me down the wall and back on my feet he leans up against me while our breathing mixes with the sound of the water still falling all around us. He places a few soft kisses on my shoulder before pushing off the wall and placing both of his hands on my cheek, kissing me softly, helping me slowly come back down and leaving my my mind foggy and drunk on him. 

"I love you" he says when he breaks apart from my lips. "I love you too" I smile, humming in contentment and feeling so good, loving that despite everything he loves me no matter what. 

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[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.

For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.

However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.

We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.

There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.

Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.

At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.

Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.

A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.

A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.

Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.

TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.

EDIT:

Actually wait I think I have more to say-

Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.

There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!

However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.

I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.

And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.

You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.

Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.

Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.

Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #jeff the killer #rant #I’m not a professional in anything don’t @ me #I’ve just been here for years #so I at the very least partially know what I’m talking about #I personally think this purist mindset and behavior is bs if you go and attack other creators #just be nice to people Ohmygod #update #eyeless Jack #slenderman

[dawnagustd]

the misfit toymaker || myg

The queen has made her list and checked it twice. She’s visiting those who have been naughty, and punishing them in ways that are oh so nice.

- Part of the Unholy Night Series.     

➻ title: the misfit toymaker  ➻ pairing: toymaker!yoongi x f!reader  ➻ genre: fantasy | holiday | magic | smut  ➻ word count: 1.8k  ➻ rating: 18+   ➻ warnings: unprotected sex | infidelity | soft dom!yoongi | sub!reader | Sir kink | controlled orgasms | big dick!yoongi but wbk | slight edging | spitting/spit play | belly bulging | sex toys(swings, vibrators, suctions) | creampie | cum play | rough sex | light impact play | dirty talk | degradation | dungeons | bdsm | pet names | fingering | multiple orgasms | crying (the sexy kind) | rejection(i’m sorry) | impreg kink | suspension play | clit stimulation | oral sex(female receiving) | begging | overstimulation      ➻ author’s note: Part 3 has arrived. No lie this is one of my favs!! Once again, I won’t hold you. Thanks @taechwitaaah for beta reading and screaming with me. I hope y’all enjoy this as much as we did lol.

It wasn’t hard to locate your next stop. A toy store on Christmas Eve is like a flashing billboard sign. Especially when the only toymaker loves to burn the midnight oil.

Yoongi searches for any excuse not to go home to his estranged wife. The only reason they’re together is because of his kid, who just so happens to be one of Mr. Park’s pupils. 

He loves bringing smiles to all the youth’s faces, but Yoongi’s no saint. Mrs. Min wants nothing to do with her lowdown cheating spouse, and Yoongi couldn’t give a bigger shit.

He’s never been a monogamous man; whenever he finds a new playmate, the old one is no longer interesting. 

But you, however. You just might be his favorite. He couldn’t wait to drag you down to his dungeon of misfit toys and show you all of his erotic creations.

“Are you comfortable, doll?” he asks. “Your restraints aren’t too tight, are they?” 

You don’t hear him because your attention is set on the image of the toymaker’s veiny hand wrapped around his cock. He pleases himself while drinking in the sight of you, his delicate pink lips parted slightly as small, labored breaths slip past them. Each time his palm slides over his similarly textured shaft, arousal oozes from the tip. Suddenly, your mouth is dry, and the urge to fill it with–

“Hey. Eyes on me when I’m talking to you, beautiful.” 

He uses the other hand to lift your chin, gently demanding your undivided attention. The authority in his voice places you back in reality.

Your eyes wander up his figure, admiring his skin while getting drunk off of his touch. 

“Sorry about that, Sir.” You tug on the straps lightly to ensure they’re secure. “Yes. This feels nice.” 

Yoongi insisted on putting you in one of his many “swing sets” hanging from the ceiling. 

It’s thrilling being suspended feet in the air, your legs spread wide with your weight only supported by rope. Your wrists are bound also, leaving you entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. 

But mercy, is not a term the toymaker is familiar with.

“I promise you, doll. You’ll feel even better once I stuff my cock inside of you.” 

Yoongi spreads your folds and reveals your wetness. The cold dungeon air hits your center, intensifying your sensitivity.  

“Damn, you’re wet,” Yoongi comments.

“Make it wetter, Sir.” 

You respond with so much need that he can’t resist the temptation. He’d rather drag this out and keep you down here for as long as possible, but the growing urge to fuck you senseless is too demanding.

Yoongi leans forward and allows his spit to drip into your opening. He watches in awe as your cunt accepts it graciously. Using two of his lengthy digits, he enters your pussy and prepares you for his throbbing cock. 

“Fuck, Sir!”

Yoongi’s thumb rubs your clit while he fingers you slowly, relaxing you so he can continue to stuff your dripping crevice.

“Take one more for me, doll?”

On your command, he adds another finger. 

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers.

The room begins to fill with the lewd sounds of your squelching juices, gushing out of you and covering Yoongi’s hand and wrist. He twists and curls his digits inside of you, searching for the spot that’ll have you falling apart. You cry out for him once he finds it, and he responds with a cocky smirk, knowing he’s about to ruin you before he even fucks you.

“Sir.”

“Come if you need to, doll,” he says. “I won’t get mad at you.” 

His voice is so gentle and sweet, a contrast to the dark lust-drunk eyes staring at you.

You can feel your core tightening with each passing second. Moans leave your lips, but the pleasure is so intense you cannot hear how loud you are. Eventually, you have no other choice but to let go.

His fingers guide you through your orgasm while he praises you with the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. He bends down to suck your pulsing clit between his lips, and your mouth falls open. Nothing comes out; you’re just reacting on nerves. Your brain has yet to catch up with the moment.

You slump over once you’ve finally calmed down, but you’re only given a few seconds to recharge before Yoongi’s cock is teasing your entrance.

“You ready to tap out, doll?”

You shake your head.

“Please,” you beg. “Continue. This is light work for me, Sir. Do your worst.” 

The toymaker wipes the smirk off of your face with his thumb; you know you’re fucked but you still play along.

“I sure hope you know what you’re asking for, baby doll.”.

His cock enters you slowly, not stopping until he’s filled you with every inch. Your pussy constricts and he’s unable to move. You both struggle to adjust to the tight fit.

“How are you so fucking big?” 

“Maybe you just can’t take dick like you think you can, doll.” His tone is condescending, making your face heat up. “I prepped you and you’re still having a hard time. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Bullshit.”

You speak out of turn and earn yourself a slap on the thigh.

“Now, don’t get disrespectful, doll.”

You bite your tongue and settle into your position. When Yoongi starts moving, the fullness becomes more bearable. The sensitivity ebbs away, and pleasure replaces it. The chill in the room fades as your body begins to heat up, and your sweat does little to keep the feverish desire at bay.

“You’re still so tight,” he points out. “Let’s loosen you up, doll. This won’t do.” 

Yoongi surprises you when he grabs one of his little toys. He flips the little switch, making the object buzz in his hand. “This one’s going to fuck both of us up.”

He places the vibrator directly onto your clit, and instantly, you see stars.

“Fuck! Sir, I can’t!...” 

You beg him to turn the settings down, but Yoongi only chuckles.

“Baby doll, I really haven’t turned it on yet.” 

A press of a button, and it reveals another feature that has your mind scrambled within seconds. The suction pulses around your sensitive bundle of nerves, stimulating you in ways you’ve never even dreamed of.

Your babbling gets you mocked and teased by the toymaker. All while he’s still stuffing you with his cock.

“Look at my sweet little doll,” he tsks. “So confident in thinking she could handle my cock but can barely keep it together. The nerve; what were you trying to achieve, baby?”

As if you weren’t already a mess, he turns up the settings. If the entire town didn’t hear your scream, then the room has to be soundproof.

“I’m going to come!” 

You sob and tremble as your body dangles in the air. Yoongi’s thrusts send you flying, but the hold on your waist never allows you to slip through his fingers.

“Oh, yeah? And what are you gonna do for me if I let you?” he grunts.

He intentionally touches your cervix, making your eyes roll back. You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he notices the outline of his dick each time he enters your guts.

“Anything, Sir,” you promise. “Please. Just let me come!” 

You aren’t sure what sound is filthier, the noises your cunt makes as your juices gush onto the floor, or Yoongi’s wet sticky sac slapping your ass with every impact.

“Well, when I fill this cunt… You better not spill a drop. Understand?”

“Okay, I won’t. Now, please.”

“I hear you, doll. I hear you.” 

But relief doesn’t come as quickly as you thought it would. He turns the toy to the highest setting, making you lose your mind in seconds. Yoongi doesn’t hold back. When your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, he keeps fucking you like you’re a rag doll, bouncing you up and down on his hard shaft.

“You feel so good, doll,” he growls, slowing his pace. “I should keep you all to myself and pump my cum into you every night.”

“Sir, fuck!”

You try to calm down but hearing his deep voice filled with lust makes you hotter.

“Ahh… You like that. You wanna get knocked up, huh?” 

His cock starts twitching inside of you at the thought.

“Please.” At this point, you can’t even recognize your voice, but you continue to fill his ears with everything he wants to hear. “Sir, fill my pussy. I promise I won’t spill any.”

This is probably the closest Yoongi has ever been to finding true love because the look he gives you tells it all. He’s never met anyone so perfect, so willing to accept him. His orgasm snatches him out of his reverie, reminding him of a reality he’ll have to face very soon.

A moment later, ropes of his warm cum paint your womb, drawing pleasant sighs from your lips.

“Goddamn it, doll,” he whispers while his cock slips out of you. “You’re a fucking slice of heaven, you know that?”

Yoongi uses his finger to stop the seeping cum from dripping to the floor. He pushes it back inside of you repeatedly until he’s satisfied. He lowers you and then carefully helps you out of the swing, so you don’t fall.

“You’re quiet, doll. Are you okay?” 

You don’t respond but Yoongi still takes your hand and guides you up the stairs. Your palm feels so warm wrapped in his, and he can’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.

He takes one look at you and realizes he’s in deep shit.

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

Doll. 

He thinks that name is perfect for you. You may be a goddess, but you’re so delicate and cute. He wants you. He wants to keep you to himself despite knowing that he can’t.

“I’m hungry.” He wasn’t expecting that reply, but he doesn’t mind treating you to dinner after the things you just allowed him to do to you. “I want something… Sweet.”

“Well, there is a bakery across the street. He’s closed, but I know him so he’ll—”

You’re already heading to the door before he can finish his sentence. Yoongi quickly grabs his coat so he can cover your body. However, you turn around and place a hand on his chest to stop him.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“You said you wanted to get something to eat.” 

Yoongi is slightly confused, but he laughs it off.

Those beautiful eyes stare into his soul, and he has no choice but to accept the fact that he’s whipped.

“Yeah… but not with you, hun.”

Your words leave him in shock, and he can only stand there frozen, watching you walk through the door and head over to his best friend’s store. The toymaker is heartbroken, and sad. But what can he say when this is how he carries on? You’ve got him, and you’ve gotten him good.

He laughs to himself, basking in the sweet smell of you that still lingers in the air.

“Damn, that was one wild sleigh ride.”

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #suga x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bangtanbathhouse #btsdreamcourt #bangtansorciere #kvanity #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #bts fanfics #fic: unholy night #sugakookitty

[suzukiblu]

more black zero please!

“I hope you all know I’ll be holding that against you,” Black Zero informs the Justice League, eyeing them darkly. Assholes. Assholes willing to strap a two year-old clone to an atomic bomb to investigate a threat they didn’t know jack shit about without backup. 

He could use a stronger descriptor than “assholes”, actually. 

“This isn’t the situation where you get to threaten people,” Superman says, narrowing his eyes at him. Black Zero genuinely debates taking a page from his teenage selves’ books and flipping him off. If Superman wants to talk to him like he’s somehow under the impression that he’s the strongest person in the room, he should, perhaps, remember that Wonder Woman is three feet away from him, and also that Black Zero himself is, again, an upgrade. “This is the part where you give us a reason not to send you to the Phantom Zone.” 

Black Zero really should just punch him. 

“Well, if you’re going to try me on hearsay, technically I am a minor,” he drawls, raising an eyebrow at Superman. He really did expect someone more impressive. “I’m the exact same age as your ‘Kon-El’, in fact.”

“I mean, give or take a reality,” Superboy says, gesturing awkwardly. “But, uh–yeah. I mean, Black Zero didn’t time-travel or anything, Cadmus just grew him to full-size and then kinda, uh . . . tossed him at Metropolis and told him to just . . . go be Superman. Which did not go well, for the record, so like–I mean, I get the Phantom Zone concerns, but he didn’t start out bad, and, well . . .” 

“It did not go well, no,” Black Zero agrees, his lip curling in disdain at the memories. Superman looks unsettled for a moment, then narrows his eyes at him in obvious judgment, like he thinks he has the right. 

“You’re a psychological adult,” he says. “You knew better than to do what you’ve done.” 

“You stayed dead in my reality,” Black Zero says, wondering what the inside of this idiot’s head must be like. Sunshine and puppies and bullshit, apparently. “Left it all to me. And you don’t know a thing about what I had to do.” 

He knows much better, in fact. Better than Superman, who was accepted even as an alien stranger who lied about his name to everyone he met. Everyone in Black Zero’s home reality had known exactly who he was and where he’d come from and what he’d been made for from day one, but they’d never trusted him half as much as their precious original Superman, even before things had started going bad. 

Black Zero still finds that ironic, considering. He has human DNA. He had humans he cared about. Specific and visible ones who weren’t just allied superheroes or people who could conveniently spin his existence for the press. 

No one could say the same about Superman. Not as far as they knew. 

“And you clearly made your choices,” Superman says. Black Zero gives him a flat look, then decides he’s not worth acknowledging any more than he already has and looks back to Superboy. 

“I’ve never actually met a Superman before,” he says. “Are they all this fucking sanctimonious?” 

“I mean, I’ve gotten some very weird lectures from the guy,” Superboy admits, making a bit of a face. “But he’s not–what the fuck does ‘sanctimonious’ even mean, asshole?” 

“It means he thinks he’s morally superior to the rest of the conversation,” Black Zero says. “And that he’s making a point of shoving that ‘fact’ in our faces.” 

“He is morally superior to us,” Superboy says in exasperation, scowling up at him again. “He’s Superman! That’s his whole thing!” 

“And I’m sure you came to that conclusion completely on your own, and through no outside influence whatsoever,” Black Zero says dryly. “Definitely no ‘very weird lectures’ were involved in the process.” 

“Don’t twist my fucking words around!” Superboy snaps indignantly. 

“Kon . . .” Superman says, his jaw tightening. Black Zero continues to ignore the spare parts, for obvious reasons.

#anonymous #wip: den mom black zero #long post

[vasito-de-leche]

would it be ok to request a fmn x reader type thing that goes into realizing he’s actually fallen for said reader ? (They can either be human or arcanist whichever interests u more!!),asking cause I saw that post u brought up and now im really curious is all I know your Getting a lot of asks for fmn so I apologize ehhf

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "fallen"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 600~ words. angst

all good, nonnie! I don't mind if someone decides to send 10 asks in a row with prompts for the same character lmfao, more power to you lolol

you didn't specify if you wanted headcanons or a fic, so I ended up writing a lil ficlet of the EXACT moment Forget Me Not realizes, which also doubles as the moment he confesses because this man is. a mess.

I also wanted to recapture the vibe from this other FMN fic tofocus on that FMN POV and how hes just. so fucking delusional and how none of the shit he thinks matches the things he does. his body and mind live entirely different realities and i think thats awesome of him

Forget Me Not realizes he's fallen for you the moment he's about to lose you.

Your fist collides against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away - even now, you don't hurt him as much as you should've. In this situation, you have every right to tear him to shreds. To rip him out of your life and throw him far, far away, left to rot.

But you could never do that to him. And that's what hurts him the most.

Because he's done so much worse to you.

This is the last argument you two will ever have, this is the one time he went too far - he's sure of it. Forget Me Not knows this, he's been preparing for this outcome for so long, he knows exactly how it will happen.

At some point, you're going to walk out of that door and never come back. This current expression of yours, the one that makes the knot in his throat tighten and tighten until he wishes he could swallow his own tongue and die on the spot, is the last image he will have of your face. Forget Me Not will think of you each and every night, every single hour of the day, until his memories of you become a poor, deluded simulacrum of what you two could've had or until he drinks himself into oblivion.

He will resent you for leaving and he will hate himself tenfold for allowing this to happen. He will be glad that you're gone, off to greener pastures, and then beg to any God out there for you to come back to him. All of this while he carries on about his day, unyielding and unmoving in his grief. An esteemed member of Manus Vindictae.

This is the day all of his paranoia is justified, but the one thing that throws him off is the suddenness of it all - Forget Me Not, despite constantly dreaming about the day you finally leave him, never expected this to happen so soon. Not on the day his heart finally allows him to admit he's fond of you.

The irony isn't lost on him, he finds it quite hilarious, truth be told.

You yell something he cannot register at him, your open palm pushing him further and further away. Limp and weak, Forget Me Not allows this, his back now resting against the window of his office. Through foggy glasses, he keeps his gaze on the floor hoping that you'll finally run out of things to say - but then, your face comes into view.

It's hard to see you in such a dazed state, and yet Forget Me Not recognizes this mess of blurry colors and shapes as the former love of his life. The sunlight coming from outside surrounds you in an angelical glow, you remain holy even when your fingers dig into his shoulders.

It doesn't hurt, though. He wishes it did. Forget Me Not does not deserve your love, but he will gladly accept your anger and hatred. Why is it so difficult for you to give him that? Why is it so hard for him to let go of you?

"Do you really have nothing to say?! Nothing at all? After all of that?"

Forget Me Not doesn't reply. He can't even remember the words that came out of his mouth to make you react like this. He's forgotten how to talk and just the thought of missing his lines is enough to humiliate him - you play your role so well, and here he is, fumbling the part. To match the crying saint in front of him, Forget Me Not needs to deliver the best performance of his life, a monster worthy of your divinity.

The Snake of The Walden stands tall and proud, looming over you (Forget Me Not stumbles and falls to his knees, unable to steady himself).

It coils itself around your hand, cold scales scratching against your skin (with shaking hands, he clings onto anything he can reach - your hands, your clothes)

Piercing eyes stare down at you, mocking and condescending in their superiority (everything is so blurry, so wet. why is he crying?)

Finally, the Snake speaks. The words that spill from its mouth are vile, rattling the foundation of the earth.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #r1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 forget me not #forget me not #i love putting FMN thru the blender. hes the universe's punching bag #every other character gets a nice 'oh im in love' moment but FMN gets. the worst day of his fucking LIFE #if you saw me post this ficlet with the placeholder title. NO YOU DIDNT

[megu-meow]

Whose fault is that?! - Gojo Satoru

Inspired by this post from @vagabond-umlaut. Thank you for allowing me to use your post as inspiration!

gojo x fem. reader

Arguing with Gojo is terrible. Your arguments last for days, because he can never take them seriously and makes you laugh, making you forget about why you were mad at him in the first place only to remind you a few days later by doing the same stupid shit.

The only instance that he took one of your fights seriously was when Geto started going berserk and Satoru didn't know how to deal with the situation at hand. He started drifting away from you unintentionally, slowly pushing you away. You confronted him about it after a while, asking him to change his behaviour, otherwise you would have no choice but to break up with him. He observed silently as tears were rolling down your cheeks, realising how much trouble he was in, how much you were hurting from his idiocy. That day, you saw a side of him you never knew existed, his cerulean eyes were glossing with tears, begging you to give him another chance to prove you how important you were for him, how much he loved and cherished you. He was more serious than ever, he never showed that level of earnestness in his entire life, not for the elders of his clan, not for the jujutsu higher-ups. You learned that day that he was right: there was no use in taking fights and arguments too seriously, at the end of the day you were partners for life and as long as your relationship was alright no issues mattered enough to be sour about them.

But this one's a big one.

"Satoru, I understand that you have to work a lot. I understand, when you don't come home for days, because you have paperwork to do. I asked you once to fucking show up, to have dinner with my parents. But no, you had to go watch Boss Baby 2 with Yuji Itadori for the 5th time this week, bailing on me and my parents. Do you have any idea how furious my dad was, Baka?"

In reality, Gojo did not go to the cinema to watch that stupid animated movie, he had to go to Kyoto to pick up the ring he ordered a while ago, he wanted to show it to your dad so that he could ask for his permission to marry you. He ran into some trouble on his way back to Tokyo, a special grade humanoid curse wreaking havoc in the train station in Roppongi, close to your favorite flower shop, one he visited to get a blatantly oversized bouquet of peonies. If the curse didn't show up, he would have made it to dinner in time, giving you the flowers he had irritably lost while fighting, with a kiss to your lips. He would have waited for you to excuse yourself from the table to go to the bathroom, he would have gotten the velvet box out of the pockets of his fancy slacks, showing the diamond that mimicked the color of his unique eyes to your father, asking for his approval. However, by the time he got to the restaurant you were already done with dinner and were on your way home. He did catch your parents though, they were waiting for their car, he did explain the situation to your dad, your mom's eyes were full of tears as they both hugged him, gladly accepting him into your family.

"We had to go watch it again baby 'cause Sukuna kept showing up, making Yuji miss some of the best parts." he said nonchalantly, trying to make you smile.

"I don't care, Gojo!" you said furiously, flabbergasted by the audacity of the man in front of you "I'm done. You know what?! I want a fucking divorce!"

By the time you finished your sentence you voice was laced with laughter, not taking the fight too seriously always helped, you knew he was planning to atone for his wrongdoing with your parents, making a reservation at the world's best restaurant's convenient Tokyo pop-up. However, you still wanted to make him understand how annoying it was, being ignored for 5 night in a row for the same dumb movie.

"BABY, WE'RE NOT EVEN MARRIED!" he shouted back, smiling widely. He knew the argument was over, you were joyous, your smile intoxicating. He enjoyed how lighthearted these moments were, nothing seemed to be complicated or exhausting when it came to you, one of the main reasons why he wanted to marry you.

"AND WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THAT, 'TORU?!"

"Oh, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into, my mochi." he says, trowing finger guns at you with a mischievous wink. He sprints out of the living room, taking long strides with his chicken legs. You observe him with confusion and you are urged to follow after him. "Stay exactly where you are!" he shouts from what you assume your bedroom and you can hear shuffling, the sound of his sock drawer opening with a screech, you can also hear glass breaking, he probably knocked over the vase sitting on top of his dresser. You look down the hallway leading to your shared bedroom and he appears at the end of it, his smile reaches his pretty eyes as he sprints back to you, but the floor is slippery and he falls, landing in front of you with one of his arms lifted towards the sky, a velvet box sitting on top of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight of the white gold band with the blatantly oversized diamond attached to it. He was groaning under his nose, whining about hitting his elbow, but he shows no effort of getting up.

"YES, SATORU, YES!" You shout in excitement, he didn't pop the question, but you knew your answer without hesitation. He smiles widely, looking up to meet your eyes, but you land on top of him with a huff, linking your arms around his neck, leaving a million kisses on his face. The whole situation is comical, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He takes pride in how excited you are, how you're laughing and giggling in eagerness. You're his everything, the diamond ring is the reminder that you will be his everything forever.

"I love you." he says quietly, getting up from the floor with you hanging around his body like a koala.

"I love you too, Satoru!" you whisper back gently, leaving a soft kiss on the spot behind his ear, which causes a shiver going through his body.

"Do you love me enough to marry me, mochi?" he asks timidly, afraid from rejection. It doesn't make a lot of sense, he knows you would say yes, you basically did already, but he feels the need to ask and with the question comes the possibility for rejection.

"Of course, silly! I would marry you today if I could." you answer, shuffling his soft hair gently. "But you will have to ask for my dad's permission and I'm not sure he would grant it to you after the shit you pulled, baby."

"I'm way ahead of you, pretty. I asked him yesterday after dinner. He even said he was excited fro me to become part of your family."

"But you weren't at dinner yesterday, 'toru..." you look at him questioningly, remembering your fight from earlier. "You didn't actually go to the movies, did you?"

"No, I didn't." he smiles widely.

"Then where were you?"

"Picking up a diamond ring in Kyoto so that I could propose mid-fight to my crazy little girlfriend." he says nonchalantly.

You want to be mad at him for lying to you. You want to scold him, for being secretive and always doing this dumb stuff. But you love him for his idiotic behaviour. You love him for his shenanigans. You are reminded about all the silly shit he pulls as he carefully slips the ring on your finger, the glimmering diamond matching the glint of his pretty eyes. You forget about your argument, you forget about all the other fights, because with Satoru around everything seems to be a bit silly and crazy.

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #jjk imagines #satoru gojo imagine #satoru imagine #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo imagines

[streamsofstardust]

i debated saying anything about this bc i wanted the focus to be on how incredible josh is and how much we all love him, but since other people have made posts (and bc the subject of them has continued to be a problem) i figured i might as well.

long ass post below the cut bc i don't wanna clog people's feed

hannah has spent the better part of 6 months trying to salvage her reputation after tweetgate. she's been posting bogus, empty apologies and trying to prove that she's a good person, a person who has changed over the years and isn't close to being the same as the one who made those horrendous tweets.

yet every time someone calls her out, she continues to show everyone she hasn't changed at all.

hannah's career is not josh's. her personal life is not josh's. their connection is simply the fact that she's with sam. she's benefitted from the relationship since it started, regardless of how little her status as a "well known" musician has increased. she's gotten plenty of opportunities that she likely wouldn't have, had it not been for her relationship with sam. this isn't me saying she's using him, none of us could ever know that for certain, but it's certainly an interesting pairing and she definitely doesn't do herself any favors to get us to think otherwise.

i understand there is no obligation on hannah's part to join the masses in public support of josh coming out. I'm not going to say she needed to like the post, comment on it, put it in her story, etc. what i will say is that her initial silence about it on social media is extremely telling.

she tweeted about legislation when it came to gun control. granted she talked about how she wanted her music to make a change (it's not going to sweetheart), and made most of the conversation about her, but she brought up the importance of standing up for what you believe is right in the state you live in. and for anyone not aware (though i assume pretty much everyone knows) she lives in tennessee.

because of that, and given her adamance that she's not a bigot, one would think she'd take josh's post as a chance to also talk about the importance of fighting for LGBTQ+ rights in the state she lives in. even if she didn't live there, you'd think she'd do it to support her boyfriend's older brother. and for as much as she talks about how much she loves them all, it sure doesn't seem like she gives as shit about any of them other than sam, and yeah that's likely because he's the one directly helping her career.

she didn't though.

she didn't do anything to show her support for josh.

and it's not that she wasn't active on social media because she spent the day posting on everything about her new music. she follows josh, she would've seen the post. I'm sure there were plenty of conversations over text or call or facetime or whatever that she could've been part of. I'm fully aware that anything could've happened in private. but when you spend so much time trying to publicly convince people that you're a good, caring, thoughtful, loving, and accepting person, how could you not show public support when it comes to this?

of course she has to go and make it even worse though, because that's literally the only thing she knows how to do.

i don't necessarily agree with people commenting on her posts about josh (though i agree, yesterday was josh's day. idc argue with your mother) but the issue was her response to those comments.

you want to talk about your music? go ahead, lord knows you're never gonna shut up about your subpar shit. but this:

was fucking disgusting.

that's your boyfriend's fucking brother who, after spending nearly a decade hiding a massive part of himself and his relationship, decided to come out publicly where millions of people would see it all at once. where he could've been met with judgment from fans, non-fans, peers, fellow musicians, etc. I'm not saying he assumed the worst, there's no way any of us would know if he did, it's just the reality of the political climate. he did something that is fucking terrifying for anyone on a considerably smaller scale. even when you know you'll have support, coming out can be scary. hell i was drunk when i accidentally came out to my dad and even though i knew he'd still love me, i was fucking scared.

josh risked so much by making that post, regardless of the love and support he was guaranteed to have from his family, his friends, and presumably most of his fans. i can't imagine it was the easiest decision for him to make, but the fact that he did it is incredible and praiseworthy.

anyone with a brain and a lick of common sense knows this. anyone in the LGBTQ+ community is more than aware of this. anyone who cares about those around them and understands how awful the political climate is when it comes to the LGBTQ+ community, is fully aware of this.

hannah should be fully aware, and though it often seems otherwise, she has a brain, so i know she knows this.

it's the bare fucking minimum to publicly support josh. the bare. fucking. minimum.

but once again, she had to make sure she was getting the attention she so badly craves. and of course, her responses to gvf fans were just as gross and immature as they always are.

as i've said several times before, hannah wicklund is not a good person. she clearly never has been and never will be. she has this delusion that she's changed and grown and matured but every single time she makes a post, she proves that none of that is true.

she's single-handedly digging her own grave and i look forward to the day where she's no longer connected to the band and our community.

#hannah wicklund

[brumeraven]

🍂: Interview with a Boundless Candidate || dolls, boundless, creativity, transformations, saints, cute?, sorry to the confused

"Please state your name for the record."

"..."

"Nothing?"

"names are...well, they can't be self-assigned."

"Good catch. Sorry about the trick question, but you understand why we have to make you jump through all these hoops."

"it's fine."

"How long have you lived as a doll?"

"my whole life. or, well, maybe that's just how i've been treated."

"How you've been treated?"

"sorry, how this one has been treated."

"So the whole world treats you like a doll?"

"more or less, this one supposes."

"But how long has it been since you decided to just accept it? To stop fighting back and just give up your personhood?"

"it did not make the decision; this is...it's just the way it is. the way it's always been."

"Mm, fair. Dolls don't choose."

"dolls don't choose."

"And you believe that you'll be happier as a doll?"

"i...it has never really...understood the concept of happiness."

"You're unhappy being treated this way?"

"this one has never seen happiness as attainable."

"But you need this to feel comfortable?"

"no, not really."

"Then what exactly do you expect to get out of this?"

"congruence. alignment of expectations and reality."

"My point is, what do YOU want out of this? You, not the people around you."

"...this one does not want anything."

"Rather not say?"

"no."

"Well, let me take a stab at it. You just want to feel wanted. Want to be given worth, want to be a valued pet, a cherished possession, because you can't find any self-worth, so you need extrinsic reassurance your life has purpose and meaning."

"..."

"You're afraid of responsibility. Afraid of agency. Afraid of fucking up your own life any more than you already have. You'd rather a Witch, or even a human, fuck it up for you. At least it wouldn't be your fault, then; at least you could pretend you're worth shit."

"..."

"Well let me tell you something, kiddo; those are bad fucking reasons to throw away your humanity. Because, hate to break it to you, but you aren't worth shit just because someone likes you."

"it's not like that. not for this one."

"No? Then why don't you tell me what it is, hm?"

"it's just...well, efficient."

"Efficient?"

"i can't stand it. this one cannot stand it. it wastes so much time worrying about what to do, what not to do, prioritizing and tracking and deciding."

"You're looking for...what exactly?"

"this one has value; it is certain of it. it is capable of great things and has several useful skills. time management is not one of them. it's greatest fear is that it will waste its entire existence shaving yaks."

"Shaving...yaks?"

"it simply wishes to be able to work without the cruft of life getting in the way. without wasting its time worrying about what it should be doing at any given time."

"...So you want a manager, not a master."

"this one wants a scrum master."

"..."

Interviewer Comments: NOT THE WORST REASON I'VE HEARD

Verdict: ACCEPTED

~🍂

#empty spaces #microfiction #fiction #dollposting #dolls #boundless #creativity #transformations #saints #cute? #sorry to the confused

[thr-333]

In other news- because tbh this other au holds more meaning in my heart (just cuz of how I relate to Donnie the most out of all of the aus), I genuinely am craving for angst with hurt/comfort for Leo Jr au.

sooo time for THOUGHTS I really am longing for moments with Leo Jr and Donnie, because...hnk- Donnie actually receiving comfort, care, patient understanding and acceptance instead of being told to suck it up or being ridiculed/treated like a ticking time bomb???? Means the world to me????? Idk- I guess my soul just aches for this version of Donnie who didn't get that safe space Leonardo's Donnie did. (i get the au is mainly Leo-centric, but for some reason this version of Don-tron ya created has somehow wormed his way into my heart and he is truly my favorite iteration in terms of aus???)

When I tell you that I felt my heart break over the silly comic where Leonardo says that Leo Jr and Casey Jr are twins, solely due to what that implies to the overall story. In a sense, Leo Jr gets to have variations of the life he would have if he hadn't been kidnapped (by all technicalities Leo Jr IS a victim of kidnapping no matter how wholesome it turned out to be). He gets to know the joys of having a twin, of being able to goof around and laugh, being understood/accepted, being able to make friends and be a kid! Meanwhile...Donnie (the one who was MEANT to have Leo as his twin) didn't get any of that. It hit hard that, even if it wasn't intentional by any means, Don was "easily replaced." (which idk if it's intentional or not, but that seems to be a reoccurring theme for the spiny softshell in this au). He'll never really have that close knit bond, not know what it's like, even if Leo Jr and him do grow close during their teenage years. Because in this reality, the "Disaster Twins" exist, Donnie's just not apart of it. Which is just another way that shows how much of a stranger the kid is to everyone who is supposed to be his family; his father, two brothers, and even the one who was at one point meant to be his twin.

That thought is sorta what led me down the rabbit hole of Leo Jr AU! Don brainrot. The kid's reality is one of neglect, extreme isolation, fear and...probably a deep well of self-hatred, loneliness, non existent self-worth, etc. (we saw how he struggled with in Rise Canon, so i can only imagine it is so much worse in this au). I can only imagine that this also impacts his ninpo and mystics later on, which probably is going to make his self-esteem take a nosedive.

Ngl if Leonardo's twin (who I'm gonna call Tello) is actually watching over his past self, it makes me wonder what he's thinking. His pov would be intriguing consider he'd be witnessing how much pain his twin's actions caused. Idk- I just- when I look at everything from this particular au, it makes me hope that Donnie is allowed to feel his big feelings without people trying to rush him. He should be allowed to be terrified, hurt, angry, etc towards Splinter and Leonardo. Neither of them deserve his forgiveness, because shit- both of them fucked up big time. They both caused complex trauma...and like- really need to face consequences. (apart of me sorta hopes Donnie DOESN'T forgive them) dakjsfsadfas sorry for rambling, not sure if any of that made sense, but I just- I have so many feelings about Donnie in the Leo Jr au, and really want to see more of him!

The sewers were a gross place to live if you asked Junior but Splinter refused to move to the hidden city. Luckily he had his portals meaning he could step into the already cleaned portion they called a home.

“Leo!” Mikey was the first to notice him. Dropping the plates on the table he was setting them vaulting over it, “You came!”

“It’s still Junior,” He reminded for the umpteenth time, “And yeah I said I would,”

Mikey collided into him for a hug. Junior gave a small wave to Raph- or Red, probably Red as the snapper wasn’t meeting his eyes while trying to hide his scowl. Splinter was setting the table in Mikeys stead, making wayyy too much eye contact as he kept staring at Junior. He was placing the plates down carelessly. The one in front of Donnie was placed down with a crack, only Junior caught his flinch.

“Great, he’s here, I saw him,” Donnie pushed away from the table in a frenzied movement, “Can I please leave now,”

“Purple your brother is here, that is more important than some computer,” Splinter snapped. No one took note of the way both Donnie and Junior cringed. 

“Nah he’s just tryna get out of showing me his lab since he promised last time,” Junior stepped forward and away from Mikey.

“I did no such thing,” Donnie scowled at him as Junior came around to his side,

“No use backing out now Dee,” Junior grinned, shuffling towards Donnie so the softshell backed away. Kind of like herding a very liable to bite sheep, “I’m expecting the grand tour, don't wait up everyone! “

But dinner…” Junior pretended he didn’t hear Mikey as he walked Donnie towards his room office lab space.

It was empty, with sections obviously organized out to put things there but with not enough actual stuff to do it. Donnie held himself like a tightly drawn string as they walked in. Not looking at Junior as the red slider circled around to the other's bed.

“What did you want to see?” Donnie asked tiredly as Junior came up behind him, “Most of my stuff is at the old place, or the other old place, or-”

Donnie was cut off by the blanket being draped over his head like a tablecloth.

“Nothing much,” Junior shrugged stepping away as Donnie went very still under the blanket, “Just had to get out of there, think I might sit quietly against a wall for the next half hour, not say anything, not do anything, you know how it is,”

Junior slid down the wall. He would have to go back eventually, or the others would break down the door and pull them both back to dinner. He estimated he had about thirty six minutes before that happened and that he could convince them to leave Donnie be. He’d say he asked if the softshell could make something for him. Something big so Donnie would have an excuse to disappear for the next week or so. They tended not to bother the other turtle as much if they thought he was doing stuff for the yokai.

The blanket shuffled, bunching up on the ground as Donnie sat near him. Only just within arms reach. He was covered head to toe, curled up and completely silent. Junior occupied himself trying to come up with a believable project. Maybe a new mask? That way he could wear his old one and the others would never know, it’s not like Splinter ever let them follow Junior to the battle nexus.

The blanket shifted but Donnie didn’t emerge. A hand poked out the bottom, listing up the cloth and bunching it up while still keeping the soft shell hidden. Junior reached his hand out halfway. Donnie couldn't see it but paused when his searching hand brushed up against it. Junior kept still, waiting, not minding one way or the other.

Donnie held his fingers, squeezing lightly. Junior squeezed back, not taking Donnie’s whole hand but meeting him where he was. It was pleasant, it was quiet. The noise from the others blocked off. A little bubble away from everything where they could just be. 

Junior thought growing up in the sewers may have not been all bad… if he got to do it with Donnie.

#I've been thinking about this ask all week! #but I had work and helping my roomate put on a show so litrally no time! #I wanted to make a full comic but a ficlet and one drawing will have to do #totally not having feelings bout you connecting with a character heavily based off my own experiences #no sir'ree #(I appreciate the other ask too but I need to post another part before we can get to that) #leo junior au #disaster twins #rottmnt

[barry-j-blupjeans]

key to the storage unit/ oh but I gotta know? thank you!!!

object + emotion prompt list here! still accepting!!

19. Key to a storage unit.

20. OH BUT I GOTTA KNOW??? I GOTTA

--

Kravitz could have sworn that being sneaky used to be a lot easier. Maybe people— necromancers, in particular, because that's those are the only people Kravitz had been around for a good while— had just been stupider in the past? It was possible, considering the amount of necromantic knowledge that just got fuckin' blasted into everyone's heads thanks to Story and Song. People had definitely been more dumb when he was alive at least.

But maybe he was coming at this from a weird point of view, considering that he was still getting adjusted to having two people with him on every single mission. The two people who, in particular, had done most of the necromantic research that got blasted out to everyone. And the two people who had multi-classed in so much shit that Kravitz wasn't even sure what their main class was.

Kravitz missed when he only had to worry about Lup and Barry in abstract. Like, "wow, these folks have died way too many times, that's fucked up!" and not "if I say one wrong thing, they will immediately swarm me like over-eager dogs and demand to know where I'm going and if they can go with me".

Unfortunately, Kravitz was bad at saying the right things. So here he was, swarmed, just trying to get his work done.

"We have a storage unit???" Lup said, stepping out of the portal behind him. He heard Barry trip, but he didn't turn to help, because one: Barry should know better by now, and two: Kravitz had to mentally prepare for what was coming next.

"Yep," Kravitz said, walking up to the building. "Well, it's more of a warehouse, if we're being honest, but same difference." It was bleak and cold outside, but it always was in the astral plane. He'd given up asking for a heater long, long ago. Lup and Barry followed behind me.

"And you never told us because…??"

Kravitz stopped at the door, sighing. He turned to face them. Barry's glasses had begun to fog up due to the temperature.

"I need you to promise," Kravitz said, very seriously, very professionally, "that you will not take anything that is in there back with you. Okay? Just like, a little promise—"

"A prommy," Barry said. Lup nodded in agreement.

"A prommy, sure," Kravitz said. "You gotta prommy you won't take any of this shit home, okay?"

"What happens if we do, though," Lup said. She paused. "By accident."

"The Raven Queen will be very, very mad at you," Kravitz said. "Also, depending on what you take, it could fracture the connections between planes, or like, your mind, or your body, or someone else's mind or body, or— a lot of bad shit, is what I'm trying to say. Do you promise?"

Lup and Barry shared a look. That was never a good thing.

"Cross my heart," Barry said, drawing an X across his chest and holding his hand up, like a boy scout.

"Hope to die," Lup said sweetly.

That's… as good as he's going to get, probably. Kravitz turned back to the door, using his pinky to slice another portal through realities and reach his hand into it. He really needed to clean out this pocket dimension, because the minute and a half he spent rooting around in it did not help his cool factor, even like a little bit. He found like, fourteen pens before he found the key.

"What's even in there?" Lup asked as he dug around the pocket dimension. "I gotta know. For science reasons."

"Mostly pens," Kravitz said, embarrassed.

"No, the storage unit, babe," Lup said. "I couldn't care less about your fucked up pocket dimension. Taako's got a whole ass spa in his pocket, it can get worse than that."

It can, but Kravitz wasn't going to say that.

"Oh," Kravitz said. "I knew that."

"Sure you did, bud," Barry said.

"Well, uhm, it's a lot of different stuff?" Was that the key? Aw, fuck, nope, that's a fifteenth pen. "Mostly confiscated necromantic stuff— which you promised not to take!" He could practically hear their disappointment. "Mostly books, but there's some huge ass bones and a few like, cursed objects? It's hard to— You'll— you'll see what I mean."

At long last, he pulled the key out. The key itself was black and sapphire blue, with a raven skull as the bow. Behind him, Barry snapped in appreciation. He slid the key into the door, unlocking it, and then placed the key back in the pocket dimension, so future Kravitz could deal with it. (Future Kravitz would not.)

The room was large and, much like he said, mostly filled with books. There was a loft up near the rafters and rickety stairs that led up to it. Most of what was in here was dust, if he was being honest. Dust and spooky, illegal stuff.

"Alright," Kravitz said. "Much like the Eternal Stockade, this room is mainly a waiting chamber. We're trying to outlast the magical energy these objects have, basically. You should just be able to like, feel if the curses or enchantments have worn off already. If they have, we can start a pile right ov— and you're not listening anymore. Great. Stellar."

Barry and Lup had immediately split off behind him. Lup was headed towards the big bones, Barry was poking around at some of the books already.

Kravitz sighed again. It was going to be a very long day.

#kravitz #lup #barry bluejeans #taz #taz balance #mine #ise cube writing #asks #ceilingfan5 #thank u for the ask larissa!! and for the prompt list lskdfsdf

[sehtoast]

The Blanket (Homelander x OC)

800 words | depowered homelander, memories of trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, nightmare mentions, crying bed snuggles | Fic Directory

“What the fuck is that?” 

He stands there, stock still and shocked, staring at the bagged bundle of fabric being held out to him. Homelander knows exactly what it is. But he can't… he can't believe it. 

“Where the fuck did you get that?” He grits. Why would Ben do this? Why? Why remind him? 

“It was in the prop archives. I thought you might want it…” Benjamin's excited demeanor fades and he pulls the bag a little closer to himself. This isn't the first time he's smuggled pieces of Homelander-y memorabilia home, but he's never gotten a reaction like this before. “I can put it ba–” 

Homelander all but swipes it out of his hands. “D'you have any idea– do you even know where this came from?” He hisses. Touching it barehanded was so much worse. 

It made it real. It always makes it real. 

He doesn't bother looking up at Benjamin shaking his head. Of course he wouldn't know. John grips the blue blanket in his hands as hard as he can. So familiar and so fucking painful… 

“Was mine in the lab,” he mumbles unwillingly. Didn't even want to say it, but he knew he should.. He can practically hear Ben's regret settle in. 

“Shit, Johnny, I–” Ben begins, but Homelander cuts him off. 

“It was supposed to have been thrown out years ago… Those fuckwits kept it!” He shakes it in his hand with a fury. He drags the other through his shaggy dark hair to self-soothe, but it does nothing for him. Homelander chucks the blanket onto the couch bitterly and storms back to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him to leave Benjamin, regretful and saddened, to think about what he did. 

The bug gives him time before daring to follow. The door creaks a bit, but the lump under the mountain of blankets barely moves. 

This is how he runs away these days. Once upon a time, he'd simply propel himself into the sky and fly anywhere else. He can't do that anymore, though, so he hides. Goes to the place he feels safest. 

The muffled sniffle doesn't escape Ben's notice as he crawls in beside him, slipping under the blankets and pulling them over his own head, too. 

He slings an arm under John's and rests his hand on the opposite shoulder, pulling him flush against his chest. Homelander clings to his arm, anchoring himself as he suppresses his cries. 

“I'm so, so sorry, pumpkin…” Ben coos. He plants a kiss to the nape of Homelander's neck. 

“All that bullshit– all that fucking bullshit, and what was it even for?” John whispers tightly. “Least when I was me, it was worth something…”

Ben doesn't know what to say. Maybe, though, that was best. Maybe the only thing Benjamin needed to do was hold him close and be there. 

He hugs him tight. Lets him sniffle and cry and let it all out. So many times now, John has told him that he’s reconciled with his childhood. So many times, Homelander has sworn up and down that he's accepted it and it doesn't bother him anymore. The cruel reality, though, was that there would always be times when it bites him anyway. Flashes of memories, itches on his skin that remind him of shattered scalpels and diamond-tipped syringes. Tight spaces that reawakened the little boy locked in a box. 

That trauma would always be part of him. He's grown around it, but it catches up every so often. 

Eventually, he turns and hides his face against Ben's chest. He pushes the blankets down from over their faces and breathes a deep breath of cool air. He feels tired. 

He always feels tired after times like these. His body exhausts so easily now. Ben's fingers dance through his hair and his eyelids feel so heavy. 

He's afraid to fall asleep. Scared he'll dream of the bad room again. He touched a part of it today; he's bound to end up back in there. If not now, then later. If not later, then tomorrow. 

“I've got you.” Ben promises. 

Was it that obvious? Would it always be?

He threads a leg between Ben's and pulls one closer to squeeze. Another point of contact. Another anchor. 

“Stay..?” He asks softly. He knows the answer– he knows Ben– but he's been denied so many times in his life that he still feels the need to ask anyway. 

“Of course, pumpkin.” Ben murmurs sweetly. “I'll wake you up if you get fussy, okay?” 

Relief.

Even if he ends up in there, even if it gets bad, Ben will be there.

His little spider will be there. 

#homelander #homelander fanfiction #homelander x oc #the boys #antony starr #depowered homelander #the boys fanfiction

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 13. fantasy vs reality

chapter tags/warnings: misogynistic! naoya. family drama. political corruption. oh, and financial corruption too. infidelity/adultery. strong language. humiliation. classism.

word count: 3.3k

notes: in this chapter, i tried something i haven't done before in this fic, which is to offer a perspective outside of our own. through this, I hope to provide a more fulfilling experience in the overall plot and show that, despite their differences, perhaps y/n and naoya are just two sides of the same unfortunate coin. enjoy! as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢 • 【 house of cards 】

Naoya Zenin knew he was in deep trouble for two reasons.

First, the time in Japan was currently well past three in the morning. Second, his father—rather than his trusted secretary—dialed Naoya’s personal mobile number.

And Naobito, as the old-fashioned man he was, never phoned Naoya personally. Ever.

In fact, Naoya had not even realized his phone’s incessant buzzing until the sixth call, during which the young CEO tossed over in bed, still snug in plush covers when he finally reached for the device on the nightstand.

“Who the hell?” he grumbled to no one in particular as he sat up. When the chilled air that circulated in the suite pricked at his skin, he grabbed the nearby bath towel to cover his otherwise naked torso. He stared down, the screen’s glare blinding him momentarily and forcing him to squint past the brightness.

“Fuck,” Naoya mumbled when he finally made out his father’s name on the Caller ID. He strolled from his bedroom and out into the similarly dimmed hallway in groggy motions, all the while keeping his eyes peeled on his screen.

His thumb hovered over the green ‘Accept Call’ button, but he hesitated when he noticed his pulse pick up pace. Was he…afraid?

Remain calm, he assured himself.

There should be no reason for him to be nervous—he had been under more high-stakes situations as the Zenin Corporation’s top-dog, circumstances where billions were on the table. Compared to those scenarios, one simple call with his very own father should be like a walk in the park.

With one deep breath, Naoya finally pressed at his screen and brought his phone to his ear.

“Hel—”

“You fucking piece of shit!” Naobito Zenin spat through the line. Vicious was the venom in his voice. Although Naoya was accustomed to his father’s insults, the shouts remained so loud that he had to dial the volume down. “Care to explain where in hell you’ve been ever since disappearing during the family reunion last week?”

“I’m in Beijing,” Naoya explained, keeping his voice level so as to not lose his temper as well. “Haven’t you heard from my assistants? I’m here for the Investor Conference and will be back in the office next Monday.”

Normally, the Zenin Corporation’s Chairman would relent at that. Despite his advanced age, a businessman as experienced as Naobito would understand the importance of foreign investment into the family-led conglomerate, particularly if the cash was flowing in from the world’s second-largest economy.

This time, however, was different.

“No, you’re coming back to Tokyo now.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Naobito to simply bark orders and for Naoya to just as simply obey. The older man had raised his only son with an iron fist, exerting near-absolute control over every action.

‘It’s because you don’t have the brains to do things better,’ Naobito had once explained. While the words had stung, Naoya was completely powerless in front of the Zenin patriarch, a man that held enough influence that any wrong move would cost the young CEO far too much in return.

Noticing the sudden lump in his throat, Naoya swallowed heavily. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Are you…Are you fucking kidding me?!” The chairman roared. Internally, Naoya was grateful that he was not in the immediate presence of his father, whose glare would most certainly feel like a thousand knives grazing at his neck. “Why don’t you tell me, huh? Why don’t you tell me why your fucking pictures are on fucking Japan Times with another fucking woman?”

“What—"

Immediately, Naoya brought the phone down from his ear and placed his father on speaker. No way. His heartbeat quickened exponentially as he tapped into his search engine, where googling his name revealed a low-resolution photo at the top of the search results.

Alarmed, Naoya tapped into one such source, pinching on the screen to zoom into the picture. As was typical of tabloid journalism, the photographs were hardly anywhere near good quality—pixelated with an obscure view of the main subjects.

But Naoya immediately recognized the Off-White bomber jacket that draped over his shoulders, the Ray-Ban sunglasses and the AMI Paris baseball cap that attempted to shield his face from onlookers. Most certainly, he also recognized the similarly well-dressed woman captured next to him, frozen in the pictures where the two walked up the steps to his private Gulfstream G650ER jet.

Those fucking paparazzi stalkers always had to be on his tail, didn’t they?

The more important question, however, was...how would he explain himself?

“That’s…” Was his voice actually shaking? “That’s not me, though.”

“Well, it better fucking not,” his father snarled, “because you’d have to be crazy if you think that Daisuke would keep his now-pregnant daughter married to a cheating bastard like that. You’re lucky that these photos only came out twenty minutes ago and it’s too early in the morning for anyone important to have seen them. Have you even checked on your wife?”

Right, his wife. Naoya had nearly forgotten about you since leaving the country. “She’s doing well.”

“Good.” The older man sounded reassured by the news, and Naoya was similarly relieved by his father’s gullibility until Naobito added, “But I’d wish you’d stop lying to my face.”

At the comment, Naoya felt his eyes grow wide and nearly dropped his device. “I wasn’t—"

“Listen here.” Although Naobito’s volume had lowered considerably, his voice teetered between a warning and a growl. “I wasn’t born last night. I don’t know specifically where you are or who that new woman is or what crap you’re up to, but don’t fuck more shit up. To cover up for all the antics you had done in America, I had to pull all possible strings just so Daisuke would let his beloved daughter marry you. Do you understand how difficult that was for me?”

“Yes,” Naoya replied curtly.

That was really the last straw. Just hearing his father—for the millionth time—bring up his past, his marriage, and his apparent lack of gratitude was such an earsore, and Naoya quickly felt his panic transform into aggravation.

Truthfully, Naoya resented this. He hated how he was nothing but a pawn for the family name, hated how he was rushed to marry some random girl just to improve his public image, hated how his goddamn wife was the real trump card in the distinguished family that he—not you!—was the heir to.

Yet, at the same time, Naoya relished his power. In fact, he loved it. Oftentimes, he would tell himself that he was merely making a short-term sacrifice of his sanity for long-term security in his money and prestige.

The Zenin heir had an elaborate plan, actually, for the moment Naobito Zenin would kick the bucket. How amazing that day would be. Just fantasizing about the financial and political prowess he would inherit could leave Naoya lightheaded—the turquoise waters he would sail, the litany of riches he would indulge in, the family members that would then bow to his every demand.

However, until that fateful day came to fruition, he had to bear with the old oaf that was his paternal parent.

“It doesn’t matter that you are my only son,” Naobito continued to fume, which scattered his son’s reverie. “If you botch this marriage with Daisuke’s daughter, you won’t ever step into this household again. Besides, you should know full well how easily I can oust those who tarnish the Zenin name.”

Naoya internally scoffed. Was his father really trying to threaten him? “Yes, I under—.”

“Although, with every passing day, I am realizing that I should’ve allowed your cousin to take his rightful place in the company. At least he’s infinitely more capable than you could ever be.”

Well, this was new. Out of everything his father said today, Naoya surely found this last bit the most outrageous.

The comment was almost uncharacteristic when coming from a stringent man like the patriarch. Since when did his father ever look back on his decisions? Was Naobito Zenin seriously thinking about the nephew that he himself banished from the Zenin household, claiming that…that outcast had more brains to be in the C-Suite than his only son?

He’s got to be kidding me.

Naoya clenched his jaw, blood rushing to his brain from unadulterated anger despite his silence. Even if he wanted to argue that he had every right and competence to lead the family conglomerate, he didn’t want to threaten his position by squabbling with his father any further.

“Call these newspaper publishers and tell them to take those damned articles down. This better be done before dawn. Bribe those brats with hush money if you must. I know I can trust you with this.” Naobito then laughed sardonically. “Besides, you’d proven in your history to be an expert in that field.”

Naoya’s lips pressed into a thin, wavering line. “I will.”

“Wonderful. We will talk more later then.” For the first time during the call, his father seemed pleased. “I will see you at the office in the morning then.” And at that, the Zenin leader promptly hung up.

Arms dropping to his sides, Naoya huffed as a thousand thoughts whizzed in his mind.

“In the morning, huh?” he pondered to himself.

Normally, the trip was no tall order. The Gulfstream aircraft, at full speed, could easily take the young CEO from Beijing to Tokyo in about four hours. If Naoya pressed his pilot to go a tad faster, he could make it back in three.

Except Naoya was actually eleven thousand kilometers away from the Chinese capital, which meant that a flight home would cost him half a day at least.

He should have foreseen such a situation before he made the impulsive decision to travel from the Eastern Hemisphere to the West, from the Land of the Rising Sun to the coastline of Baja California.

Now here he was in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. This was the perfect destination for luxurious resorts, spectacular beaches, fresh cuisine, and tropical weather. There was a reason he planned a much-needed getaway here, after all. Yet, this had to be the worst place for Naoya to be if he ever hoped to reach home anytime soon.

Sighing, he peeked past the nearby curtains. Outside, the midday sun in Cabo hung hot and high, a sharp contrast to the current darkness in Tokyo. The next thing he took in was the stunning view of the Pacific, sparkling water that stretched for miles out into the horizon. He spotted some empty Bali beds at the beach, and oh—how he longed to lay there with not a care in the world.

“Baby?”

Immediately, the soft voice from the bedroom broke Naoya’s thoughts loose, the nervousness that once ran hot in his blood giving way to a flood of serotonin.

“Sorry,” he whispered apologetically. “Did I wake you up?”

Rising from the mattress was someone who must be the goddess of beauty herself, rubbing at her dewy eyes as she rose gracefully from her slumber. With her caramel-colored hair and peachy skin, she was nothing short of a literal angel, stealing Naoya’s breath when he spotted her past the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Between sentences, she stretched her arms but remained as ethereal as ever. “I heard that old man’s voice over the speaker. He isn’t the type to call.”

As much as Naoya longed to leap into the woman’s embrace, to tell her about all his familial troubles, to release all his pent-up anguish, Naoya—knowing that his paparazzi predicament involved her as well—kept his reply vague to not worry her.

“Something had come up. I’m going to have to head home in a bit.”

“You mean right now?” she asked with an irresistible pout. “But you booked this suite for the rest of the week, Naoya. We were supposed to go sailing at Santa Maria Bay tomorrow and head to the spa on Saturday, too.”

“I know.” The sincere disappointment was evident in his voice. Naoya stepped back into the bedroom, tossing aside the towel at his waist in exchange for a fresh button-up and trousers.

“When my father tells me to deal with personal matters at home, I must do as he says,” he elaborated while tying his dress shoes. Once he finished, he walked over to his lover’s bedside and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “But you should stay here in Cabo and have fun for me, Mari.”

“But…” The woman—Mari—glanced up at him with the largest brown eyes. “But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Despite his forlorn smile, Naoya reached into the nearby nightstand’s drawer and pressed the retrieved Amex Black Card into the woman’s hands. “I’m taking the PJ but if you call my assistant later today, he’ll help you book a first-class flight back to Tokyo. Tell him to charge this card. Don’t forget to buy something nice for your daughter while my credit card’s with you.”

Mari chuckled quietly at the suggestion. “She will get suspicious, babe.”

He knew about the…let's just say, interesting dynamic that existed between her daughter and the rest of her so-called family, but he chose to feign his surprise instead. "Really?" he asked with a raised brow. “You think so?”

“Yes. Tsumiki is very close with her stepbrother and stepfather, you know.” With a pause, she then added, “Or shall I say, ex-stepbrother and stepfather.”

Gentle laughter then bubbled in the room.

That was what Naoya loved about Mari. She was honest, sensible, witty, and incredibly, incredibly charming. This was the woman whose body he could never get enough of, a woman who deserved the world—deserved his world. And to Naoya, there was nothing like a gorgeous MILF that could flatter him and make him feel like the center of her universe.

Of course, there was a selfish intent in his relationship with her as well. Amazingly naïve, she had a tendency to run her mouth, often spilling more information than necessary (such that Naoya sometimes had to worry about how much she might accidentally leak about himself). But she was well-informed about just the right people, and after his conversation with his father, Mari’s intel might just prove valuable very soon. 

At the thought, the Zenin heir smiled, amber eyes crinkling at the corners. “At least treat yourself while you’re here in Mexico.”

“Aw, you are too sweet. This is why I love you.” Warmly, Mari wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace and planted a firm kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Truthfully, there was no need to thank him. The thousands (or even tens of thousands) that she would end up spending would barely make a dent in his fortune. Furthermore, there were also selfish reasons to make sure Mari was on his good side as well, for her to feel indebted to his kindness. However, given her plain background, Mari was easily impressed and appreciated the littlest things. Her refreshing reactions made her just too easy and amusing for Naoya to delight.

“I’ll text you,” Naoya promised as he gave Mari one last peck and trailed toward the exit.

“See you soon,” she called behind him.

Soon. In their world, there was no guarantee regarding when ‘soon’ would be. It could be tomorrow; it could be a month from now. Once they stepped back in Japan, his busy schedule, his stupid trophy wife, and the many prying eyes and ears—all hungry for upper-class gossip—always made their secret meetups difficult, as proven by the mess he was in right now.

Oh, which reminded him…

Just before he dashed out the door, Naoya scrolled through his contacts in haste. He stopped at one entry, calling the number and exhaling with relief when the other line picked up the phone within two rings. Before the recipient even had the chance to greet him, Naoya already jumped in.

“It’s me,” he said sternly. “It’s about my pictures in your newspaper.”

Denial, as you may know, is the first stage of grief.

‘Naoya Zenin is cheating on you.’

No, that couldn’t possibly be.

You don’t even remember much after Toji said that. Nothing but you rushing out of that meeting room and calling the nearest taxi home, thoughts all blurred from the influx of information. You had barely processed the full conversation in your head because news kept coming one after another, leaving you in a befuddled state.

But perhaps you had believed Toji, given that you googled your husband’s name upon your arrival at home in the wee hours of the Tokyo morning. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you had scrolled through the result’s ‘Images’ and ‘News’ sections, eyes rapidly scanning row after row only to see praises for Naoya and his extraordinary business skills.

Hours later, you had discovered nothing to support Toji’s preposterous supposition, and suddenly, you were riddled with guilt for ever doubting your husband’s faith in the first place.

This was why you found yourself with your face pressed against your kitchen bar’s marble countertop, the white surface colder than what you had remembered. How long have you been here? Faintly, you remember phasing in and out of sleep at your seat, as well as the memory of your housekeeper patting your shoulder earlier in the day and wondering if you were okay.

What made the situation perhaps even more ironic were the texts you received from your father in the afternoon, all links to various Harvard Medical School publications regarding what to do and not to do in your supposed first trimester of pregnancy. He was trying his best to guide you through an important time in your health, given that you didn’t have your mother long enough for her to be your advisor. Yet, with his every reminder for you to take folic acid supplements or avoid undercooked foods, your heart only broke further at the thought that your father only saw your life as a fantasy far from reality.

The aching, loveless, tortuous reality.

‘Naoya’s too preoccupied thinking about someone else when he’s with you.’

In the midst of your gloom, Toji’s words re-emerged in your thoughts. From the amusement in his tone, you wondered if he had known something back then during your appointments with him. If Naoya truly had a mistress, was that why Toji was so willing to offer his help? And why now? Did Toji finally realize that you could never be happy in your hopeless marriage and suddenly decide to take pity on your love life?

Your sad eyes flickered from the nearby glass of merlot to the penthouse’s windows, which offered a wonderous view of the orange-pink views from the sunset outside. You weren’t sure how long you were staring at the warm skies, floating between daydreams when the entrance beeped and your eyes widened at the unexpected noise.

Sitting up, you immediately whipped your head in the direction of the sound.

It was Naoya Zenin who emerged from the doorway, and you were thoroughly surprised. You only called his secretary yesterday morning about his whereabouts, but he informed you that your husband wouldn't return to Tokyo until next week.

While you didn’t expect his sudden and unannounced return, you hated to admit how your heart stuttered at how fantastic he looked, how immaculate he was in his Giorgio Armani suit, how sharp he appeared with his blonde hair combed to one side.

“Hey, I’m back,” he said with a small smile with he spotted you at the bar. When Naoya didn't start slipping his shoes off as per usual, you curiously observed him as he stood in the foyer and dangled his Ferrari keys in front of him. “So...you wanna go on a date?”

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[mdhwrites]

I don't know if you've watched Gravity Falls or been deep in the fandom but I just realized how similar Luz and Mabel kinda are. They're both young quirky girls whose selfish actions helped the main villain achieve their goal (supposedly, in Luz's case) and learn the lesson of facing reality instead of being stuck in a fantasy world where they get everything they want (although Luz doesn't really learn this even though it was kinda set-up for her in s1) (they also have a girl rival with shit parents that the fandom ships them with but anyway-)

I'm not saying this to shit on Luz though, I like Luz. But it mind boggles me how Mabel gets shitted on way more than her does despite being younger, actually learning her lesson, and apologizing for it. It might because they're different shows but I know a lot of TOH fans were/are GF fans because of the creators' relationship so the fandoms aren't that different from one another. It MIGHT be because Mabel trusted Blendin so easily despite the situation being shady as hell (while Luz just thought Philip was a normal human in the demon realm) but to be fair, Mabel was cornered in a moment of vulnerability and she literally didn't even know what she was giving him. Abandoning her friends and family for her own fantasy land while an apocalypse going on was really horrible, I won't deny that, but Luz also pretty much did the same when she chose the demon realm (place she doesn't know anything about with STRANGERS) over her own world in the first episode. Sure there wasn't anything horrific going on in the human realm so her ignorance of it wasn't as bad as Mabel's– BUT THEN in TTT she thinks of leaving everyone behind by staying in the human realm while the Collector was doing who knows what???

I don't know, this might be kinda petty, I haven't rewatched GF in ages, but I just think it's unfair Mabel gets more hate than Luz. I feel she's had more character progression compared to the latter and at least she always got called out when she did something wrong and learned from it.

So take all of this with a grain of salt because while I've heard a little of this discourse, I haven't watched a lot of Gravity Falls (recently tried again and found myself not loving the first episode if I'm honest) and have never been a part of its fandom. However, this is a chance to talk about why Luz is so liked and 'relatable' to so many because it is not hard to figure out why people like Luz. Why? Well... A lot of it comes down to framing and how the two shows see the two girls.

Gravity Falls sees Mabel as a tweenage girl.

The Owl House sees Luz as the embodiment of what a teenage nerd wishes they were/could be.

Those are VERY different goals and framing.

One, Mabel, is going to be INCREDIBLY fallible. Neither her or Dipper are anywhere close to perfect people because... Well, they're teenagers. They get way too into certain things. They're awkward when it comes to those obsessions. They're awkward about how to deal with change, consequences, etc. like that because that's just the age they are. They're figuring out the world and are going to run face first into it and that will be awkward, clumsy and often destructive without any sort of excuse besides they didn't think the consequences through. That's kids for you.

The other is... More idealistic. Luz doesn't face real consequences for testing her boundaries and is always bailed out. When she fucks up, she always does it with the best intentions and/or no one actually gets hurt. People coddle her and always make concessions to her desires with minimal push back and always end up on her side unless they're just a REALLY big meanie head. She always makes peoples' lives better, she never gets real criticism or ridicule for her interests and is always accepted by the right people for those interests. Always given more and more for being her quirky self!

A lot of this for Luz is because she's an audience surrogate and TOH wants the audience to feel good about themselves. It knows that a lot of nerds will be the ones watching it and leans in. This is actually contrasted by the fact that, well, Mabel isn't the audience surrogate or the absolute primary character of Gravity Falls. Her role is more complicated versus Dipper who IS the nerdy one who's closer to being the audience surrogate.

Just to really drive this home: People on my Discord have talked about this and one of the biggest 'crimes' as seen by a lot of the fandom is that Mabel causes Dipper to lose out on his dream of researching with Ford and staying in Gravity Falls. I could even see some arguments of things like "He's planning a future!" or "He's making the world better!"

But... Let's shift the framing for a moment from "Mabel caused Dipper to give up on his dream" to "Mabel made sure Dipper chose reality over fantasy." After all, his desire was to throw away his friends, his family, EVERYTHING to just continue hanging out with this one old dude and studying the weird phenomenon of the world, an inherently isolating job. He gets to go on this big adventure and follow his intellectual drive... At the cost of reality and everything he has known.

So why don't people get upset at Dipper for trying to do this? Well, there's a lot of potential reasons that I can't really narrow down without watching the show. It may have just been framed as a positive while Mabel's is framed as negative. It could be that while Mabel's is just a generic, girly fantasy that not much of the core audience actually wants, Dipper's is the cool, smart fantasy that is totally not just a fantasy, but a CAREER. Or it could go back to the root problem: Because Dipper is closer to the audience surrogate, closer to the main character, there is a bias to inherently see his actions as good. We could literally watch two characters do the same thing and we will root for the main character simply because that is who we are trained to root for.

A great example of this from TOH is how Luz is allowed to get mad at people for lying to her but not the other way around. She literally attacks Eda and gets the two captured in Titan, Where Art Thou? because Eda lied to her and she is supposed to feel justified in this anger to make the tragedy angle work. Meanwhile, there is ONE time when anyone gets mad at Luz for lying and honestly, the framing and reactions cause it to end up feeling much more like it was just for a prettier scene change during Reaching Out. After all, Amity still wants to fix Luz's pain before Luz even apologizes for breaking her word by lying. So why doesn't anyone call out the hypocrisy here? Why is NO ONE allowed to get upset with Luz about this?

Because she's the main character. Because we are trained to root for her and, well, Luz also is the one we are told to want to be. She is the every nerd. She is meant to connect to a very wide net of outcasts who feel like they don't belong and wish things were different. Wishes people weren't mean to them or didn't get mad at them when they made mistakes. That just let them be the hero of their own story.

So of course, they don't want Luz to be yelled at, even when that is the actually human and reasonable thing for someone to do. They don't want to question what she does so when the show gives them an excuse, or they have to go to reality if the show itself doesn't give an excuse (This is why people emphasize Luz's age and nuerodivergence to excuse her while bluntly ignoring Mabel's age when it comes to her actions), so that they don't have to recognize that Luz does some REALLY shitty things, especially in the back half of the show. It is simply more convenient for the narrative they want out of the show for Luz to be this way.

And that is okay from a casual standpoint. A lot of fiction is escapist. There's nothing wrong with wanting to jump into a world where you're never actually wrong and never in trouble. Where your angst is always met with hugs and understanding rather than actual human emotion. That's how media works. Most mass appeal products are escapist. It's part of why the Isekai genre is SO prevalent right now because it is one of the purest forms of escapist fiction out there, especially due to modern isekai tropes.

But if you're going to talk critically about something, escapism is very rarely a good jumping off point for it. It will make you ignore a LOT about the work because it's uncomfortable for you to ask questions about it. I'm not talking about "Why does this world have magic" sort of things mind you. I'm talking about, say, "Why does this character get so many power ups, so easily, and with little effort in earning them?" When you want escapism, the pacing won't bother you. If you're actually looking at themes and payoffs, it will bother you a LOT. And yes, this does tie into TOH because if you want to be Luz, getting the glyphs feels great! If you actually interrogate the story, you go "Wait, they hadn't actually done like... ANYTHING with her not having magic in a magical world and she already gets a spell? And two of these spells she does literally nothing for. Arguably three since she is put into timeout as a punishment and gets the glyph I guess for being a bad person." That TOTALLY is good storytelling and makes sense with positive themes and proper explorations of its own ideas.

*sigh*

It's a rough push and pull and it can make it so people, even if they like the show, who disagree with the popular opinion, the one that usually lifts up the audience flattering elements the most, are just in a rough position where they hear the same opinions over and over again. All while knowing that if they speak up, they'll be stomped on.

Just like Mabel was while Dipper was raised into the spotlight. At least by the fandom.

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I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #gravity falls