#and i'm tired of folks still hating on it

[xiki-pupper]

I can understand how Shuro may be a frustrating character to some folks - in fact that is kinda what he is there for, narratively speaking. But it really gives me ick when people just wanna shit on him for "being awful/the worst/an asshole"

The way I see it, the dude is his own different flavor of Autism- repressed, conditioned, awkward, and forced to participate in high society, not to mention the culture clash - and he sees laios just being his own weirdo self and he hates it --- no, thats not it. I honestly don't think he hates laios; i truly believe he hates that Laios gets to be TRUE to himself, and he (shuro) Doesn't get to be.

And it's a feeling I can understand and sympathize and empathize with, as I have been on my own personal journey to try and un-mask and deconstruct and heal myself in a world that has made me feel broken my entire life

People scream "hypocrisy" as shuro sees the same traits between the touden siblings, and is attracted to one whilst hating the other - and yes, I can agree that it's a bit hypocritical, but yall are taking it at face value and not understanding where his feelings are coming from. Shuro doesn't hate laios because he has a special interest, shuro hates that his whole life, he has had to squash himself into a form-fitting box, behave as his family commands, and now he sees laios being free of expectation, just out here being a weirdo, and shuro is possibly feeling that frustrated grief that comes with the late diagnosed autistic situation of "I could have been happy, too, but no, *I* had to be the responsible one"

... at least, that's how I view it. Coz I myself have had those thoughts. And I know, it's NOT a good look for me to be out here admitting that I have felt this way, like for example, maybe I see someone else's struggle with anxiety, whether it's online or in real life, and I have this bitter thought to myself of "yeah, I have anxiety too, but *I* was still forced to be a responsible adult anyway" which makes me momentarily frustrated.

And before anyone jumps my ass about it, NO, I definitely DO NOT think that "if I had to suffer thru it, so should everyone else" that's NOT what I'm saying. But I AM saying that, there is a bitterness, when u see someone who is able to avoid a struggle that you had to endure - that bitterness is NOT thinking that everyone should suffer as I did, but me being bitter that *I had to* at all.

Does that make sense? Coz I really feel like Shuro just gets shit on because people think he's there to interrupt the Yuri and be mean to Laois, and I really feel that he's a whole ass person. And a somewhat melancholic one, at that. He makes me think of how I had to grow up Christian whilst being queer and undiagnosed Audhd my entire life, and I would be very very surprised to hear that a large chunk of dunmeshi fans didn't ALSO grow up this way, feeling broken and stupid and tired, forced to do things the "normal people" way, and then NOT understand how Shuro feels when he sees someone who is in a position to be mostly free of that...

#dummeshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #toshiro nakamoto #danmeshi

[xray-vex]

"Like stuff. Don't be someone that doesn't like stuff, and if you don't like stuff, don't be a dick about it."

- David Jenkins

#our flag means death #our flag means death season 2 was fucking legitimately great #like it's been about a month now #and i'm tired of folks still hating on it #if it doesn't make you happy anymore then just go do something else #instead of trying to convince other people to hate it just because you do #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd fan art #i don't like thing #ofmd meme #david jenkins #stede bonnet #mermaid stede

[loumauve]

.

#sometimes I wish there was like a guide or sth to dealing with intimacy when you're ace #not just in relationships but also in relationships #bc sometimes I think back to conversations I've had with non-ace folks in the past #and usually they would come down to sth like 'when you know you know' #or 'there's gonna be this look and you'll know it's the right moment' #which all seems fake af and untrue and entirely un-applicable if you've agreed to sth else #like.. if you've agreed to not worry abt that and that you'll pick up the topic if anything ever changes #but how do you know if things have changed. how do you know what you want vs what you're wanting only in the moment #and how do you not make it awkward if you bring it up only to later realise maybe you were just having a weird moment #(like. I go through phases every month and I know it's coming. but I also know it'll go away again eventually) #(and like.. I guess I'm still terrified of setting expectations for things I can later not fulfill) #(and sure that's prob due to fucked up shit that happened in past relationships and this is not the same) #((..the difference a partner you can trust to keep their word on respecting your boundaries can make...)) #anyway. scared shitless of starting sth I can't finish. also unsure if I want to start anything in the first place #and just so tired of not knowing where to even fucking start. gonna blame my migraine weirdness for posting this in the first place #a day in the life of.. #(((how to know if maybe you'd like something now when you haven't in the past but now all parameters are different.. #..and maybe it would be nice but maybe it would still suck and you'd end up hating it and feeling regretful.. #..and maybe you'll never be able to get out of your head enough to just have a moment and go with it and be happy)))

[terpia]

Inside you there are two wolves

#there is going to be some extemely emo venting in the tags apologies in advance #personal #whining #folks i am struggling #i have been extemely overworked this month and i. i just can't #i am so tired #i had almost a week off towards the end of august and still this past week and a bit have just once again depleted my reserves completely #i KNOW logically that that's because i simply have too many tasks to do #i spent this past month and a half doing as much as i possibly can each day but i'm still barely keeping up with my workload #i can't do (nor can i be reasonably expected to do) more than my best #but i still find it difficult not to blame myself #maybe if i was better at time management. maybe if i was a faster worker. maybe if i was someone who was actually good at things #i can see myself making more mistakes and forgetting more things lately #and i hate it #i know it's because of being overworked #but i hate feeling like i'm unable to follow through on my responsibilities #or knowing that anything i drop will have to be picked up by my equally busy boss #unfortunately things have gotten to the point where i have to ask for some things to be taken off my plate because i can't sustain this #(great timing on my part btw to be pushing more tasks on my boss just as he's dealing with difficult things in his own personal life) #i just hate this entire situation so much #uuuuuuuugh #anyway sorry for rambling #just needed to get this off my chest

[apollo-cackling]

🔥 GR Reviews (no idea what those are, but now I'm curious)

oh I was referring to Goodreads reviews lol which is why I was holding myself back from complaining. that dead horse is pretty thoroughly beaten to disintegration fjajdj

but hm... okay like, yeah the top reviews of any book on GR are all unreliable and bad taken on face value but they're so consistently unreliable in specific ways that it kinda loops back to being reliable? the site is like. fine if you can find folks with similar tastes to yours and whose judgment you trust. ends up kinda being like how tumblr works except searching any topic always returns the most mundanely bad takes you've ever seen.

(so basically it sucks at a pre big proportion of what it's supposed to do but it's. decent. at the rest which.... yeah)

also aside from all the other problems w/ the posts lamenting the state of GR, I feel like a lot of them are missing that a pretty big reason why (the most visible) reviews on GR are bad is just bc in the ranking of things a review needs to reach the top, being. good. is near the bottom. so in my experience the distribution of bad opinions are like most other sites, it's just that it's always the bad ones that are the most visible. like goodreads reviews are also an endless source of frustration to me and I will absolutely complain about them in private, but I don't see the point in (publically) complaining about them?

(I could elaborate on how I've seen GR select for bad reviews but if you've seen any of the talk about youtube's algorithm and how it selects for mid stuff it's nothing all that new lol)

that's probably not all that much of an unpopular opinion uhh. I respect what Storygraph is trying to do, but it's fighting a losing battle I think. as much as GR being owned by amazon makes it suck (gods the website/app is godawful), that also gives GR several advantages that other sites are hard-pressed to contest (the kindle's goodreads integration is a pretty major reason why I'm still using both goodreads and kindle for example).

#thanks for the ask! #shrug I don't much have much new to say about goodreads lol sorry #+ apologies if this doesn't make sense I'm pretty tired rn dsajkgh #if you want something to *really* complain about I can dm you this review of baru1 that's my mortal enemy #I usually just ignore the guy bc his tastes are really different from mine but like this is. really bad even for him #unfortunately he's like one of the top reviewers for epic fantasy if you read epic fantasy at all he's pretty inescapable #my rambles #ask #ask game #goodreads to me is how folks describe tumblr lol yk #place suuucks on so many different levels but I'm so used to it that I just stick with it #GR integration is annoyingly useful for me lol if I'm using say an excel spreadsheet I'd probably keep forgetting to put books on there #main reason I don't see myself switching to storygraph yk #idk how kobo ereaders work maybe it'd be possible to jailbreak it and install some plugin that gives it storygraph integration #but on the kindle front I'm pretty sure there's still no way to jailbreak the current firmware #+ keeping a kindle jailbroken requires keeping it offline so yk #'GR to me is how folks describe tumblr' or maybe not bc GR to me is 'I don't hate it enough to try the alternatives' #and I'm pretty sure the general attitude to tumblr is a lot more positive than that lol #I have spent. way too much time on GR

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Another PSA about this because I hate myself but with the return of Hazbin Hotel, I feel like it needs to be said again:

Alastor is not a w-ndigo.

No, I do not care if he is ever referred to that way in canon. He is not a w-ndigo.

W-ndigoag are sacred Anishinaabe spirits representing greed, cruelty, and desperation. They are often associated with cannibalism, but that's because they're the embodiments of the hunger and desperation that comes with a deep northern winter. Many modern Anishinaabe artists associate them with things like pollution and environmental destruction instead. Reducing them down to cannibalism ignores everything else about them.

Since they're winter spirits (again, DEEP NORTHERN WINTERS), it makes no sense for Alastor, who is still from Louisiana as far as I'm aware, to be one.

Also he's not Anishinaabe. Please leave our cultures alone, thanks. If you want to headcanon him as Anishinaabe, have fun, but leave our sacred spirits out of it.

W-ndigoag are not deer.

W-NDIGOAG ARE NOT DEER.

Repeat it with me, folks: W-ndigoag. Are. Not. Deer.

The deer association was completely made up by people turning our cultures into their profits; it has absolutely no basis in either traditional or modern Anishinaabe stories. W-ndigoag, in cultural stories, are either emaciated humans or massive ice humanoids with the person frozen inside of them. They're not deer.

Alastor can just be a cannibalistic deer demon. That's okay. Hell, real deer have been recorded eating meat and even scavenging on human remains. You don't have to appropriate from Native cultures to make him a freaky deer.

Please don't try to argue with me about this, I am so tired and I will start crying.

#ndn tag #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #thank you all for coming to my tedtalk

[kedikatzen]

Remember, folks, if you point out to a SpindleHorse crew member where their boss needs to apologize for condoning and defending another crew-member sexually harassing a minor, you'll get blocked and told that it was the minor's fault.

These people seriously think that is a 16 year old sneaks into a club and get SH'd/SA'd while in there, "it's their fault for being in an 18+ place." They'll ignore the fact that the abuser SH'd them in any way they can. Next, they'll be asked "Well what was she wearing??"

If y'all don't keep up with my Twitter, let me get you up to date, because I'm tired of these people pushing a narrative that victims are at fault for the situations they're put in.

A storyboard artist for Spindle, R2, sexually harassed a minor on Twitter. The minor, now a year older but still a minor, then reached out to Viv over threads about getting an apology, and Viv victim blamed with with "I'm sorry if you were uncomfortable, but it was your fault for engaging and it was a joke so get over it" in so many words. I went and reached out to R2 about the incident, about getting an apology for the victim, because this has affected them for the last year and they're still living with the negative consequences of what R2 put them through. R2 doesn't deny the SH, claims he apologized only for "mistaking their age" before immediately deleting his account, and then followed up with a post captioned "Stay mad about it" when asked for an upfront apology. R2 never apologized for the SH, he claims to have apologized for the mistake about their age - but again, neither denies the SH nor apologizes for it, and when prompted to, posts a "Stay mad about it" post immediately. SH is wrong against anyone, especially minors but it's not limited to only being wrong when it's against them. Viv's "apology" is "Sorry you got uncomfortable BUT it's your fault and it was a joke and get over yourself", that's not an apology especially for something as serious as SH. "I don't know what else you want them to do," I just want a genuine apology, that's all the minor wants, what's so hard to wrap your minds around about a genuine apology??

I'm getting really tired of SpindleHorse employees not only avoiding culpability and common decency, but outright defending heinous things and trying to hide the evidence of it. I was specifically asked by this employee, "do you have proof of that??" and when I posted proof they panicked and tried to cover it up immediately by hiding my replies. You guys cannot claim to stand up for victims, against victimization, or even stand beside victims when you actively go out of your way to hide the evidence of the victims of your boss and peers.

Regarding the Brock thing, you can see here that Viv's stance on whether or not to bring him back depends entirely on how his response "plays out". This was after she already took his role away, so she had already decided that there was enough flak or evidence or warrant kicking him off in the first place, but she was still open to inviting him back despite what she calls "his misconduct".

I wasn't going to make a bigger post about this because I hate cluttering up my feed with it, but I'm getting really tired of these people excusing the worst sort of behaviour and having the audacity to sit on a high horse about it. All I've ever asked for his accountability, I want to see Viv apologize to her victims, but I don't know how feasible that is with the list of victims growing constantly. An apology is up to the victim themself to accept, and while I might be willing to accept one and the minor R2 victimized might be willing to accept one, I can't speak for every single person and I don't know how feasible that even is with the list constantly growing.

#personal #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #spindlehorse #spindlehorse critical #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #this is exactly why i don't want this media anywhere near me #it leaves such a nasty trail behind for all of this being associated with it #jigokuhana

[camellia-thea]

i know we talk a lot about the isolation of chronic illness and disability, but i really don't think ablebodied folk get it.

i have made one new friend in person since graduating highschool in 2020. she is my housemate's girlfriend. she stays over frequently, and the only reason we are friends is because she stays over and we have shared university papers. i would not have had the opportunity to befriend her otherwise. that is in the space of three years.

i don't go out much. i cannot guarantee that i will leave my house within any given week. technically i have class i need to go to twice a week for an hour, but those moments aren't time for friends, they're time for classwork and i don't interact with people in a social capacity there.

i simply do not get the opportunity to meet people.

i cannot go out with friends and meet new people that way, because my social circle is already so small, and i don't have the energy to go out half the time anyway. when i do, i suffer for it later.

i don't meet people on campus because i'm immuno-compromised, and ableds seem to have forgotten that we are still in a pandemic.

i don't go to clubs or go out for the sake of going out because i can't. i've grown agoraphobic, because i am so worried that something health related will happen and i'll get stuck somewhere alone. i hate leaving the house because of the guarantee of an anxiety attack which leaves my body more likely to flare. it's a vicious cycle of isolation.

i am not the only one who has experienced this -- i can still leave the house, i can still go and visit friends with assistance. i struggle, but at the end of the day, it's still an option. there are others who are completely isolated.

the worst of it is that people leave. people get tired of the 'i can't come, i'm sorry', of the 'hey, i'm sick, can we postpone?'. even people who you love and hold dearly will stop trying. and it's awful. you have to sit and watch these people who you love walk away because they can't deal with your disability. i don't have words to describe how much that hurts.

it really is impossible for ablebodied people to understand, because for the majority of us, this isn't temporary. this is just how we have to live. and your social circle can only really get smaller.

#feather speaks #actually disabled #actually chronically ill #chronic illness #cripplepunk #physically disabled #cripple punk #i don't really know where i was going with this but the isolation is different from the kind that ablebodied people experience #and i think people got a taste of it with lockdown but it's definitely not the same? #i mean with lockdown it was universal but with us we have to watch other people live their lives and move on #and it's almost like we stay frozen #that's not to say that we don't have fulfilling lives or anything #but i dunno. it feels different #anyway i'm rambling to the void at this point #i just had thoughts and i wanted to put them somewhere

[wandagcre]

I need something with sam, specifically scream 5 sam because she's cute 😔 maybe her picking us up from college to hang out or go on a date? It would be cute 🥺

scream 5 sam aka her golden retriever era 🥺

sam is absolutely the cutest! you happily informed her that she can come by your uni only if her shift allows her to because you didn't want it to add more stress as the woman hustled for her living.

sam is super ecstatic about it! you see how the gleaming is etched on her face that few of her dimples actually appear. (you can't resist but press a kiss on them) for her, it shows your comfort and pride of having her as a girlfriend.

when sam actually gets there, she has this denim jacket on and a 'no nonsense' vibe radiating off her aura. the cheery sam you know momentarily disappears when you aren't around. she can't help it! these college folks are either the most tired or entitled students ever, based on conversations and people that sam has interacted with as someone working on customer service.

imagine her sitting all badass and poker face on a bench, maybe leaning on a tall post, and popping some mint on her mouth. (all bc she knows you hate the smell and taste of cigarette) she's also carrying an extra tumbler with her, worrying that you have already finished your own and doesn't want you walking around in a dehydrated state further 🥺

she welcomes you with a crooked smile and arms somewhat awkwardly posed yet they're wide for you to come closer into. (sam is still working on pda! 🥺) sam lives for these moments, happy to know that her presence helps you a lot; visibly seeing your exhausted state vanish instantly upon seeing her wait for you!!

as you walk with her she also surprises you.

"sammy, this isn't the way home?"

"i know silly. i figured you deserve a treat after having an eventful day." she pokes you playfully on your arm. "then, I'm up for some cuddles when we get back to your dorm..."

sam is just that cutesy girlfriend ever!! 🥺🫶🏼

#requested #drabble #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #i tend to write a lot SORRY i have many thoughts when it comes to sam

[clownfessionsofficial]

Saw a post claiming that trans men who don't pass still benefit from the patriarchy because male names are more likely to have favorable responses on job applications. Do they not realize a large amount of trans men have non-traditional names, many of which are neutral or even traditionally feminine leaning (Exhibit A: myself. My name is Fable) Or the fact that a large amount of trans people literally don't have their name legally changed?

But yeah, my fem-neutral preferred name (not even my legal name) is definitely gonna give me a leg up on things, guys /s

I'm so tired if this validity contest pitting the trauma of transmasc and transfemme people against each other when in reality, your experiences will far more hinge on the area you live in and how well you pass rather than if you're ftM or mtF. They hate all of us. They want to kill all of us. Stop making it easy for them by annoying tf out of fellow trans folk by basically telling them they have it easy.

#transandrophobia #transphobia #discourse

[orqheuss]

💚 Sebastian Sallow headcanons 💚

Sebastian has a habit of rambling. Asking him any personal question about his feelings is a surefire way to get him to ramble about whatever he is researching at that current moment with nervous energy instead of answering. It's not only when he's nervous, to be fair, he just has a tendency to ramble in general. The boy is a Nerd. You will always find him around the castle with his nose in a book, so any opportunity to talk about the thing he is currently interested in, he's taking it.

High key ADHD. Boy cannot be still to save his life. He's always moving in some way, be it tapping his foot, twirling his wand, playing with your fingers-- he's moving some body part. It can definitely be annoying at times, but you can't help but let him continue, especially when he has that cute consentrated face.

He's a lightweight. It doesn't take much for him to get absolutely plastered, and when he's that sloshed he has endless amounts of energy. It's like taking his normal golden retriever-ness and ramping it up to 100. I'm talking climbing on tables and singing Scottish Gaelic folk songs (he's fluent in the language) with a full conjured folk band (fiddle and all) until Ominis drags him to his bedroom. He always gets invited to parties.

Can speak, read, and write many languages, but his favorite is latin. Again, he's a huge nerd, so he learns as many languages as he can so he can read any book he encounters. He teaches his friends latin and sometimes likes to leave them little notes that no one else can read. You can bet he made up a secret language that only he and Anne knows; not even Ominis can crack it. 100% tried to learn Parseltongue out of spite because Ominis said it was impossible to master if you weren't born with it. Sebastian knows a few words after making his friend repeat phrases tediously over and over until he got at least some of it, and it drives him insane that Ominis was technically right (Ominis is very smug about this).

Sebastian is super affectionate with his friends. He grew up in a house that valued physical touch and comfort, so random hugs and little touches are second nature. He'll guide your hand when learning new spells because he used to do the same to Ominis in first and second year, ruffle yours and Ominis' hair when he's feeling playful, bump his shoulder against yours in the hallway when he's feeling mischievous, and sometimes fully lay across the both of you, feet in one persons lap and head in the other, and make you play with his hair when he's tired, sad, or stressed.

A big softy around animals. He's not much of a cat person and won't really go out of his way to pet them or play with them (unless they initiate first) but he will never turn down playing with a dog. He has always wanted one of his own, but his parents died before they could get one and Solomon hated house pets. He likes to hang out with the nifflers the most in beasts class-- he finds them adorable and their energy hilarious. Sebastian sometimes carries little shiny things he finds around the highlands for them.

The Mom Friend™️. Always has what you need in his pockets. Have to sneeze? Here's a tissue. Need a vial for some potion ingredient? Say no more. Have a headache? He has a potion just for that. He has everything. Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he put an extension charm on his robe pocket for that exact purpose. The boy always has to be prepared for anything, even the absolute worst case scenario.

So clumsy. He'd trip over air if he wasn't careful. When he's dueling he's perfectly fine, but just walking around or talking with his friends? He's accidentally running into walls or knocking things over. It's never on purpose or because he's incompetent, it's just that he gets so wrapped up in what he's talking about that he doesn't notice his hand gestures getting too close to the potion he's brewing or see the turn just up ahead. Ominis makes a lot of jokes that Seb needs his echolocation charm more than he does, but it's all in good fun.

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian hogwarts legacy #sebastian hl #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #i just love him very much #he's so cute #he's canonically a nerd and i think ppl forget that sometimes #what a perfect guy #what murder i don't see any murder

[megamindsecretlair]

Foolish

*Heed warnings*

Pairing: Jatemme Manning x Bratty!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, Filth, cursing, PIV, size kink, mentions of violence, gun use, drug use, brat reader. Reader does get turned on by violence, if this disturbs you click away. All consensual. Established relationship. Heavy use of n-word.

Summary: You are tired of being Jatemme's arm candy. Forever guarded and without 100% of his attention. As the race for Alderman heats up, you're at a fundraising event when you grow bored and decide to test Jatemme's devotion.

Word Count: 3,494k

A/N: I was a little unhinged writing this, so it was written in a bit of a daze. Please let me know what ya'll think about this one. I can't find the ask where people expressed interest so don't be mad at me if I didn't tag you! I'm sorry! I'm also not married to the moodboard, so it might change. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @browngirldominion @sageispunk @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @blackerthings

You were bored. Just because you told your man to leave you alone, didn’t mean you actually wanted him to do it. Why couldn’t niggas ever listen? What’s so hard to understand? “Leave you alone” obviously meant to give you attention?

You were at a fancy event for Jatemme’s brother, Jamal, who was running for Alderman. Snooze fest. Jatemme promised that you weren’t going to be here long. That you’d only have to sit like a doll for an hour tops, before he took you shopping and out to eat.

One hour turned to three and you were still sitting at Jamal’s table, surrounded by Jatemme’s crew while Jamal and Jatemme did business. You scanned the room for your man but didn’t find him. 

You did see Jamal who was hard to miss. He was the type to walk into the room like he owned it and as if everyone owed him money for it. Jatemme was quieter, but deadlier. He instantly drew you in with his sleepy eyes, soft umber skin, and intense presence. His darkness called to something within you and never let go. 

The relationship wasn’t without its up and downs. You liked to keep him on his toes. Get him to have a little fun. He always followed in Jamal’s shadow when it was Jatemme that did most of the work. Most of the planning. Most of the ideas. 

You sighed, loudly once more, and turned briefly to your table to sip your nasty ass champagne. Fucking politicians. Pretending like they weren’t all into something dirty, getting over on the little guy. Namely Black folk. 

Jatemme’s crew gave you funny looks. They knew better than to touch you or stare too hard. But you often caught them looking at your body and your too short dresses. They also hated your attitude. Jatemme made you swear to stop messing with them. It was hard to find good help when you were constantly flirting with them and he was constantly killing them over it.

Maybe that was Jatemme’s problem. Now that Jamal was running for Alderman, there was a public scrutiny on the family business. Jatemme doesn’t have free rein to do as he pleased now. Go wherever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted. 

You sighed once more and checked your phone. You texted your best friends in your group chat, that you were bored and in desperate need of fun.  Misty immediately texted you back and told you to meet them at a club not too far from there. That was exactly what you needed. 

You looked over at the crew of four burly men and stood up. One of the them, Martin, stood up as well prepared to follow you. “No need, Marty, I’m just going to the little girl’s room,” you said and smiled sweetly. 

Martin gave you a blank stare. He adjusted the suit jacket over his thick arms and put his hands in his pockets. “You know the rules,” he said. 

You kept your sweet smile, knowing that your lips were glossed just so to catch the light overhead. That your champagne colored dress hugged your figure just right. The night was young and you were wasting it by being arm candy. 

“You gonna follow me into the bathroom and hold my purse too? I don’t think Jay would like that,” you sang. 

Martin looked towards the other men who looked everywhere but at him. They did not want that particular smoke. Decisions, decisions. Martin cleared his throat. “Come right back,” he said. 

You smiled. “Of course. You all act like I’m not an angel,” you said. The men wisely didn’t comment. You turned and sashayed out of the room, already done with the entire night. You didn’t see your man and you didn’t care at the moment. 

You waited until you left the hotel ballroom before pulling out your phone. You ordered an Uber on your way out to the front. People from the reception had spilled out into the hallway, discussing things that they didn’t want others overhearing, even by accident. 

You passed by stick figure women in dark red, blue, or black dresses, pointy shoes, and stiff upper lips. You passed by men in their penguin suits, pretending to give a shit. The total wealth combined in the room could help everyone in the Ward but they held onto it like gremlins. 

It made you sick.

You went outside, shivering slightly from the bite of cold. When your Uber arrived, you didn’t even look back towards the hotel. It was almost criminal how easy it was to slip your chains. Further proof that this shit was getting stale and you might be headed towards another break from Jatemme. Let him sit and stew over what he would miss before he came crawling back with gifts, kisses, and that big dick of his. 

You grinned as you texted Misty that you were on your way. She texted back with plenty of emojis, some of them skulls, because she already knew that Jatemme was going to blow his lid. Let him.

It didn’t take long to reach the rougher areas of Chicago. Almost literally down the street from the glitterati, the houses weren’t as nice. The grass not so green. Fences and bars on the windows. Corner boys selling dope in baggy jeans and oversized T-shirts. 

The club was set back from the street to allow for a little more parking. You got out and Misty met you outside. She hugged you with many squeals and jumping up and down. “Slipped the doom patrol?” She asked. 

Misty was gorgeous, with deep, dark skin and microbraids twisted into two buns atop her head. She was a thick, curvy girl who was always quick with a laugh. She immediately ushered you inside. You turned off your phone. Make Jay sweat a little bit. 

You spent the entire night dancing with your girls and getting drunk on your favorite drink. All of the songs were hitting, back to back. A mix of 2000s and 2010s music. The good shit that demanded you dance right this instant. 

Plenty of dusty ass niggas tried to pull you into a dance and you pushed them all away. It cost to put hands on you. It cost to be in your presence. Ain’t nobody getting shit for free. 

By the time the club called for last drinks, you were tapped out. You were not wearing the proper shoes for dancing in the club. You were shocked that you lasted as long as you did. And yeah, you missed your man. You were a little drink, a lot horny, and you just wanted to be fucked at this point and put to sleep. 

You walked out, hanging onto your friends. One of them, Kiki, was the lightweight. She was dragged between two friends while she muttered something. You giggled and walked with them to their car. 

Rounding the corner, there were a group of guys passing a joint between them. They wolf-whistled as you passed by. One of them sure was fine. Tall, bald, with a thick luscious beard that covered the lower half of his face. You wondered what he’d look like with your juices dripping from it. 

You didn’t condone cheating. But if you were on a break…

You smiled at him as you passed, tossing your hair over your shoulders. “Gahh damn, lil mama, where you headed?” He asked.

You giggled and kept walking with your girls. It was nice to be wanted. You turned your phone on while your friends tried to get Kiki into the car and not entertaining the men by the building. 

As it turned on, messages flew in with loud dings and flashes across your screen. You had…quite a lot of missed calls from Jatemme. Angry texts too. You appreciated that he never called you out of your name when he was angry, but he had plenty of other colorful ways to show his displeasure. Like calling you by your real name. Ew. 

He was good and pissed that you left. That your phone was off. He promised hell, fire, and damnation when he finally caught up to you. You pictured him driving around fuming. His sleepy eyes narrowed even further. The cute way his nostrils would flare and the vein that pulsed in his neck. 

You were getting wet just thinking about it. The sex would be immaculate tonight. You sighed dreamily as you went through his unhinged text messages. 

“Bitch! Help? Hello?” Misty called out. You giggled and moved towards the car, pushing at Kiki’s big ass head to get into the car. Misty slammed the door in her face and sighed as if she’d been wrestling a bear. 

She faced you with a small grin before her eyes darted behind you. The sexy bald headed man approached you, licking his lips and looking you up and down. He held out his hand when he was near enough. 

“I had to come introduce myself,” he said.

“I appreciate that. But I’m too high-maintenance for you, boo,” you said. You flirted with the idea of being responsible for another man’s death, but he was too cute to sacrifice for your own dastardly enjoyment. There were so few, gorgeous Black men these days. The 90s had all the fine men. They were long gone now. God just wasn’t building them like that no more. 

“I like a little high-maintenance,” he said. 

You laughed. Said no man ever. “I’m the type to empty accounts,” you said and smiled. 

“I got several. Pick one,” he said. He looked you in the eye as he said it and made you reevaluate him as a whole. He was dressed nice in dark plaid slacks, black polo, with a big watch on his wrist. Nothing too flashy, but enough that it convinced you he wasn’t another broke nigga. 

You were considering his offer, wondering how you could prove that he was for real and not just trying to get into your panties. Squealing tires tore your gaze away from the man as you saw Jatemme’s truck flip a bitch into oncoming traffic and speed into the parking lot. 

“Shit. You better run before my man catch you talking to me,” you said, though he probably already saw you. 

“I ain’t scared,” the man said. Bless his little heart. 

“Nigga, I’m trynna protect you. Leave, now,” you said, shooing him away from you and your girls. Maybe you could convince Jatemme that the man was trying to flirt with Misty. You turned behind you, but Misty held her hands up.

“I ain’t trynna die for your Black ass,” she said. 

“Bitch!” You screamed, but you couldn’t stay serious for long. You grinned and shook your head. Before the truck had a chance to come to a full stop, Jatemme and crew hopped out, grabbing guns from their waistbands. 

“They got guns!” Someone called out. The parking lot emptied with a speed only achieved in the hood. Too many people who knew the consequences of a stray bullet and weren’t trying to lose their lives over it. Some brave souls remained, peeking behind cars and around the building into the additional parking in the alleyway.

You couldn’t help it. Your thighs tingled. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Jatemme climb out of the driver’s seat with that slow, menacing gait of his. His eyes were glued on you as he walked towards you.

The cutie remained, like he would really stand in front of a bullet for you. You couldn’t give him any more warnings. You couldn’t save him from his own stupidity. Jatemme stopped a few feet in front of you.

His face was deceptively calm. He crossed his arms in front of him, Glock on display. His crew formed a formidable wall behind him. Martin sported a darkening bruise on his cheek and you only felt slightly bad for getting him into trouble. At least he was still alive. That was something. 

You bit your lip and giggled nervously. “Hi, baby,” you said. 

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked. His voice. God, you could listen to that voice recite the dictionary and you’d listen to every word. 

You shifted your footing. “Nope. Never seen this man before,” you said.

“Aye, if you’re in trouble…” The man said. Martin, being the closest, lifted his gun into the man’s face. The gun was pressed to his temple and the man audibly gulped. 

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked once more.

You looked him in the eye. “No.” 

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jatemme said to the man. The man looked at you, but you knew better than to acknowledge his presence. You heard his friends calling for him, telling him not to be a hero, not to lose his life over some bitch. 

The man backed away, keeping his eye on Martin and the shiny gun in his face. Jatemme jerked his head and you sighed, following behind him. If he was going to take you away, he was beyond angry. Maybe you actually worried him this time. That wasn’t your intention. You wanted to scare him a little, not worry him. 

You waved goodbye to your friends. They shot you alarmed glances, but you told them that Jatemme never raised a hand to you. Never. He liked getting his revenge in other ways.

He opened the door for you and you climbed into the front seat. He got into the driver’s seat, peeling away from the club so fast, he probably sprayed everyone with rocks and gravel. He didn’t speak. He drove through the quiet streets, heading back towards the hotel you escaped from.

“Baby–”

Jatemme held up a hand like he didn’t want to hear it. You bit your lip. You really stepped in it now. Was it bad that you were turned on? Punishment shouldn’t be this exciting and yet, your mind raced through what he had planned. How he was going to show that he cared for you. 

He pulled to the front of the hotel and tossed the valet his keys. The gun was tucked away into his jeans. Fancy events didn’t mean he had to be the one who dressed up. He did have a clean, sky blue shirt buttoned to the very top. He opened the door and let you out. 

He didn’t speak while he pushed you inside, the event well and truly over by now. He didn’t speak as you rode the elevator in crushing silence and velvet flooring muffling your heels. He didn’t speak as he got out onto the twelfth floor, leading you to a suite you didn’t know he got for the night. 

Once inside, you gasped. There was a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Low lighting made the room glow like looking through a piece of glass at twilight. “You did all this for me?” You asked.

“If you would have behaved yourself,” he said.

The suite was big enough to have a full living room with couches and armchairs, shiny mahogany coffee table, and a wide screen TV. Behind a set of double doors, there was a bed already turned down, waiting for you to climb in. 

You pouted. Your man was so sweet sometimes, it made your heart ache. He didn’t always show this softer side. The side that liked snuggling up to trashy movies late at night, snacking in bed, and enjoying each other’s company. 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” He asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. Enough to get his point across. You truly had worried him. 

You turned to him with an apology on your lips but he was already invading your space. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a rough kiss, slanting his lips across yours as if he meant to stake a claim. Prove a point. You belonged to him. There was no way of getting out of it. No way of running. 

You gripped onto him tightly. “I hate when you worry me like that,” he said. 

“You promised,” you whined. 

His lips returned to kissing you, looking for the zipper on your side to unzip you from the dress. When he couldn’t find it, he began to rip it with his bare hands. “Hey!”

“I’ll buy you more,” he said. His lips returned to kissing you. More like possessing you. He kissed you like he wanted to meld your bodies together to keep you by his side. This was what you needed. What you had been craving all night. 

Your bra and panties went next, baring you completely to him. He wasn’t in it to admire your body right now though. You knew him. He had been worrying about you all night and needed to see you. Feel you. Make sure that you really were in front of him and not a figment of his imagination. 

He turned you around and slapped your ass. You screamed out, jumping away from the sharp sting. He pushed you towards the deep gray couch and bent you over the back of it. It dug into your tummy but you were too turned on to notice the pain. 

He unzipped his zipper and freed himself with a low groan, spreading your ass cheeks and rubbing his dick through your wet folds. Your hands feebly gripped onto the couch cushings, fingers digging into the linen. 

Once his tip was good and wet, he stuffed you and you cried out from the burn of his girthy dick pushing into you. Your eyes crossed. He felt too good to contain to a single moan. You yelled out without abandon, not caring who heard you. If the neighbors complained, Jatemme would handle that too. 

His strokes were bruising, punishing, near cruel as he slammed into you over and over. “You and this fucking attitude gon’ kill me,” he groaned. His fingers grabbed hold of your hips and slammed you back onto his dick. Like his strokes weren’t enough. Like you weren’t moving fast enough for him.

“Oh baby, oh fuck–I’m sorry!” You cried out.

“No, you not,” he said. No, you were not. You’d do everything all over again if he meant that his attention was back on you. That his hands were back on you. That his dick was inside you, spearing you, driving you to new pleasures each and every time. 

Your feet were scrambling for purchase. He didn’t care. He fucked you like you were no more than a toy to stick his dick in. One hand reached behind you to push against his chest. His shirt slipped between you so he lifted it and brought his flesh flush with yours. Then, he grabbed your outstretched hand and pulled it behind you, resting on your back while he used the new position as a new anchor. His strokes grew deeper, more desperate. 

“I catch you talking to another nigga and I’ma kill him,” Jatemme whispered harshly.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned. You’d seen him kill niggas for far less. For daring to turn their neck in your direction. He once told you that if he could blind the male population of Chicago, he would. 

“Oh fuck!” You screamed out, crying through your punishing orgasm. 

Jatemme grunted in satisfaction. “That’s your first one for the night. I hope you’re keeping count,” he said. 

“Baby, wait…” You grunted between his deep thrusts. 

“Like you made me wait tonight?” He asked. He yanked on your hair, forcing you to look back at him. You stared into his eyes while he filled you up with his cum. He came with a low, grumbling moan that shook your inner walls. 

Your mouth dropped open as his dick pulsed and twitched. Your legs were jelly, kept standing by pure force by him. His will to keep you spread open for him ensured that you were a vessel for his dick. His own personal fucktoy. 

He made you cum two more times while your neck was craned, looking back into his soulful eyes. You ran out of curse words to shout to the heavens. Your eyes ached from the way they rolled. Your essence mixed with his spend dripped down your legs in a slow river that tickled your legs.  

He finally slipped out, giving you a bit of a break. You huffed, legs shaking, arms weak. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, spreading your legs open once more. He fisted his dick, jerking the length of it while he looked at your destroyed pussy leaking with his cum.

“Hope you didn’t plan on sleeping tonight,” he said with a small grin. 

You panted with a nervous giggle. He proved throughout the rest of the night just how much he missed you and made you promise not to do it again. Well, at least not anytime soon.

The end.

There will be more! The Secret Jatemme Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Jatemme Files #Jatemme x Black!reader #Jatemme x Black reader #x Black reader #Jatemme x Fem!reader #Jatemme x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Jatemme x plus size reader #Jatemme fanfic #Jatemme fan fic #Jatemme fanfiction #Jatemme fan fiction #Widows fanfic #Widows fan fic #Widows fanfiction #Widows fan fiction #Daniel Kaluuya fanfic #Daniel Kaluuya fan fiction #Daniel Kaluuya fan fic #Daniel Kaluuya fanfiction #Daniel Kaluuya

[dotster001]

You know what a mean entitled girl is ? Like Idia, Vil, malleus, rook, crewel and Crowley standing up for the reader who is being harassed by a mean girl?

Maybe for Crowley and crewel the reader can be a teacher and the mean girl can be a rsa teacher?

Fluff plz

(thank you for the request and for brainstorming with me! I hope they came out how you hoped 🥺 this is a long one so buckle up folks)

Cw:mean girl stuff, use of slut in rooks part, fat shaming in Crewel's, fem!reader

A/N: I've said this in my pin post, but I age up characters to actual college age, because I am in college, and didn't realize until a few months in the characters were not. Everyone here is. 18+

Moments like these were why he hated to leave his room.

But he had promised to meet you in the library so he could help you understand magic and technology. You wanted to learn all about this world you'd been thrown into, and had been told Idia was the best person to ask about this type of magic.

It's not like he could tell you no! You were his player 2, his Persephone  (not that he'd told you that yet, but still)!

He had arrived just in time to see a richly clad preppy looking girl walk over to your table. Upon a second glance, he realized it was the daughter of one of the higher ups at Olympos INC.

He hid behind a bookshelf and waited. "You're that magicless nobody at NRC, right?"

You gave a tired laugh and gave an affirmative.

"Then you're the one Idia Shroud has been spending all his time with." He watched as she took her perfectly manicured hand and grabbed a lock of your hair, dragging you closer. He felt like he was going to be sick, and you looked like it.

The smile never left her face as she said, "Listen, dearie, Idia Shroud deserves to be with someone of his caliber, not some stupid girl who can't even perform magic." 

Idia felt something snap in him. How dare she talk to you that way! He left his hiding spot and demanded to know why she thought she could treat you like that.

The girl let go of your hair and began stuttering out an explanation but Idia wouldn't have it.

"Y/N is perfect for me! She understands me, and cares about me, and is such a bad ass. I'd like to see you defeat an overblotting mage when you have no magic!"

She continued stuttering but he interrupted. "Y/N is an SSR character, and you're just a normie. So stop wasting my time and get out of here."

She turned pale and ran. After Idia's rage had cleared he got embarrassed and realized everything he'd said.

Please give him hugs! And don't mention his pink hair! He can defend you, but actually talking to you is different, so please be patient with him!

Vil knew he wanted to date you, but he also knew that given his position, he would have to get both you and his fans used to each other. He was doing this by hanging out with you more in public, and posting photos of the two of you on friend outings.

It was ironic that his more aggressive fans would catch up to you on the day he had planned to ask you to be his girlfriend.

You were at a cafe, and he had had you pick out a table while he grabbed your drinks. When he turned around, he saw a crowd led by  a flawlessly styled girl.

The crowd was yelling at you until the girl held up her hand for silence. "What makes you think you can date Vil Schoenheit?" "Oh, we're not…" you tried to deny it but she interrupted you. 

"I've done some research on you. And from what I can see, nothing about you is worthy of him." You looked down at the table, and he heard you faintly whisper, "you're right."

The girl grinned. "I'm glad we have an understanding. Now get out of here before you embarrass yourself further."

You stood up to leave as Vil elegantly strode over to you. He gently took your chin in his hand and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. When he pulled back, he said, "I've got our drinks, my sweet potato, but I don't think we should stay here. The people here seem much too uncouth for my preferences." You gave a shocked nod, and the two of you left, the girl's mouth gaping in shock. 

Once you reached a secondary location, Vil apologized for kissing you without permission then asked if you were alright. Once you gave him an affirmative, he gently pushed your hair out of your face and with a coy smile said, "you know, I wouldn't mind the opportunity to kiss you again. After all, you owe me for the coffee, and for saving you from that crowd."

The next day, a photo of the two of you was posted on his magicam, officially announcing your relationship, and the caption stating that he had fallen for the fairest one of all.

Malleus and you had been dating for quite some time, but had agreed to keep it quiet until his graduation and coronation.

Unfortunately, this meant that he was still receiving unwanted attention from both men and women who wanted a political marriage.

Today, a fae woman from a well off family was spending the day with him. He knew that her family had wanted a political marriage with him, but I stead of ruining all ties, he humored her request to visit him for the day.

It was needlessly bothersome. She was truly a skin deep woman, who spent most of the day flattering him, and batting her lashes at him.

The only good part of his day was when he got to see you for a couple of minutes at lunch time. You had sought him out with some extra sweets you had bought for him, introduced yourself to the fae woman and gone on your way. 

There was no reason for his guest to think anything of your relationship, but being the only girl in an all boy's school had her immediately deem you a threat.

Now, in the midst of her flattery, she was throwing in subtle insults at you, your standing, your character, anything she thought she could glean from your brief meeting.

"I can't even imagine what it is like for you to have to attend classes with a useless human." That did it. Diplomacy be damned. He whirled in on the woman, and the sky outside grew dark and stormy.

"Useless? Where were you when I was lonely? Where were you when I needed anything? Y/N is my child of man, your future queen, and you will treat them with the respect that a human of their intelligence, kindness, and beauty deserves." The woman cowered Infront of him, thoroughly chastised. He turned on his heels, and said, "This visit is over" without looking back at her.

As he was walking away he was surprised to find you running down the hallway. When you spotted him, your face relaxed in relief and you made your way to him.

"Mal Mal! I saw the storm, are you alright?" If he hadn't already fallen for you, he would have fallen deeper in love right then with your sweet eyes looking up at him full of concern, only for him.

"Yes my child of man," he cupped your face gently. "All is well."  The storm cleared, and all was well. He would protect you no matter who he had to upset. You were worth it.

Rook was out hunting. For you. So he wasn't really hunting, He was just watching you from the top of a tree and basking in your presence.

You probably knew he was there. You were so incisive like that. It's why you were his favorite prey. 

As he watched, he saw a girl make her way over to you. He could sense only bad intentions from her, but what kind of hunter would he be if he intervened while you defended yourself!

The girl stood in front of you and gave a sugary artificial smile. "You're Y/N, right?" Once you gave a nod, she sat down with you.

She began to talk non stop while you just sat there listening. After a while he heard her say, "You know, most of the guys here have a crush on you." Rook held back a growl. He knew that, but said men who had a crush on you had an unspoken agreement not to say anything about it.

"Oh." That was all you said in response. Rook wondered if this was the first time you'd thought about it. It seemed to be. 

"Yeah," the girl continued. "And you're the only girl at an all boy's school." You looked like you were about to ask what she was doing here then, when she said, "I'm just here visiting my brother. But from what I hear, it seems as though you enjoy the attention." She gave a withering glare. "My brother says you'll spend time with any boy who asks. One guy isn't enough for you, huh?" Rook knew it was coming, but he was still filled with rage when he heard it. "Slut."

He jumped down from the tree immediately. The girl was startled, but you were not. He was right, you'd known he was there. But the pride he'd felt from that was overshadowed by the urge to protect his lapin.

"Mademoiselle, it would be better for you not to listen to baseless rumors, and then spread them around. It is not a beautiful look for you."

She tried to swallow her shock, and retort, "It's not baseless. I heard from my brother, and she clearly relishes the attention."

Rook tilted his head to the side. "Yes, I'm sure madame trickster enjoys the men who leer at her like a piece of meat. I'm sure she enjoys having to triple check that her doors are locked at night. And I'm sure she adores having to worry about the men who she turned down, of which I'm sure your brother is one." He gave her a withering glare. "Even if she did enjoy the attention, it would be no concern of yours."

She looked frightened, but still managed to storm off. He then turned his attention to you. "Are you alright mon ange?" You nodded, and thanked him for defending you. "Non, non, to see your beautiful face married with worry would be a burden I could not bear." He playfully placed his hat on your head down over your eyes, and relished in your giggles.

He knew today wouldn't be a good time to confess, but when he did, he would definitely want to hear more of that laugh.

After you'd graduated, and still hadn't found a way to return home, he had offered you a job at the college as his full time assistant. After a couple years, and actually getting paid for your efforts, the two of you had become closer.

Trein was preparing to retire. You were at a meeting with a prospective new teacher who was applying for his position. You were taking notes while Crowley asked her questions. It was moments like these that he couldn't see himself without you. You were just the dynamic duo!

When the interview was over, he had you show her out. He was planning on asking you to dinner after this, so he was hastily trying to finish any remaining paperwork while he waited for you to return. 

It had been quite a while, and now he was starting to worry. You had handled numerous dangerous situations by yourself, so he knew you could handle yourself. But he still felt like he should check on you.

When he found you, you looked shaken as the teacher he  was interviewing was talking down to you. "That's what I thought. All that education was wasted on you. You'll never be better than an arm candy assistant."

He waited for you to fight back, but you just looked tired. How long had she been going at you like this? You'd never give up easily, so it must have been for just slightly too long.

"Y/N, there you are, I was beginning to worry." He strode over to you, "You know I can't possibly run this school without you right? You'd been taking so long, I'd almost accidentally sold the Savannahclaw dorm!"

"Again?" You said with a roll of your eyes. There he'd gotten your mind off her insults. Now to deal with her.

"You see, I'm mostly headmage in name only at this point. Y/N here is in charge of everything, the financials, admissions, student therapy, hiring. If we lost her, the school would surely go up in flames. My graciousness can only go so far!"

At the word "hiring" he saw the teacher blanch. She made a hasty excuse and apology, and dashed out of there.

"Thanks for your kind words, headmage, but I don't really deserve…" "It's Crowley, my dear," he interrupted. "And before you start telling yourself you don't deserve praise, you should know that even though I am endlessly kind, I don't throw words around lightly. I meant every bit of it." He gently took your hand. "I would be lost without you." 

You're smile was all the thanks he needed, and the two of you stood in comfortable silence for a moment before he interrupted it. "We should probably go buy back the Savannaclaw dorm though…." "Crowley!!!!!"

Crewel had called you and Vil into his office after the fairy gala. Crewel had offered you a part time position modeling at his side company. You'd never considered yourself conventionally attractive, but they assured you that wasn't a problem. You had a great dignity, could hold up under pressure, and looked good in Crewel's designs. That's all that mattered.

At the time you had accepted because you figured it would be a great way to make some spare change to support yourself and Grim on until you went home, but as time went on you never went home, and now you had a rather large following, a diploma from NRC, and a full time job at his modeling company.

Crewel would rather spend his time with you, but he still worked at NRC, so he had left you for the day, and hoped he would get to see you work with the designer your manager had suggested for you when he came back.

He came back to see a woman in very heavy, very real looking firs, staring at you like you were dirt.

He walked in as she was circling you, and he recognized her immediately. He made a note to himself to fire your manager, because this designer was on his do not work with list, and he walked into what was surely a blood bath.

"Ah, Divus." She said coldly. "Would you care to tell me why this is your best model? She's quite plain, and much too fat for my work, that I had assumed it was a joke when I walked in here. And! She has something against real furs, and 'non sustainably sourced material's C'mon Divus. Has your company sunk so low?"

You were not fat. You just weren't skinny enough that you could count your ribs. There were two things that Crewel would not stand for; cruelty to animals, and cruelty to humans. Without fail, this designer always did both.  Normally he would have shown her out by now, but she had clearly gotten under your skin.

"Y/N is my best model. She isn't, she's just not starved, which I know is not your preference. She's got a good head on her shoulders, and understands the long term consequences a designer like you can have on our world. It's not even her world, but she still cares more than you. That should tell you something."

She was about to interrupt, but he smacked his whip into his palm. "Bad puppies do not get to speak. You would be lucky to work with a model as wonderful as my Y/N. Unfortunately, your luck has run out, and I will need you to leave the premises immediately.

The designer left with a huff. Crewel walked over to you. "Are you alright?" You gave him a smile and an assuring nod. He placed his hand on your head and missed your hair a little. "Good pup."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst idia #idia x reader #vil shoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #divus crewel #divus crewel x reader #twst crowley #twst crowley x reader

[eeldritchblast]

Y’all will literally bend over backwards to defend Larian replacing Karlach’s Black-coded character model, and I’m so tired of it. This is my final goddamn statement on the Karlach debate. Stop sending me messages about it.

I played all of Early Access, and this was the Karlach I got used to:

Yes she is a tiefling, not a human, but she has clear afrocentric features, coding her as Black.

Behind the scenes, Larian had created a custom head for her, and through datamining we can see this custom head still held at least some of those afrocentric features.

But at some point, Larian decided to scrap this entirely and make a brand new head for her, and this is the one they ended up using for the final release:

Some fans have pointed out that she is Asian-coded now, as if that makes it okay. But the stance I am firmly standing with is that I do not see it as okay to replace a Black character with an Asian character. POC are not interchangeable, and for Larian to treat Black Karlach as a disposable placeholder was wrong.

So, I made a mod to change that, out of respect for Black fans especially. All I fucking did was replace her face with the original EA model, kept her new body and ears, and added her datamined scarring. And ironically, some folks are now mad at me instead of Larian. Maybe people just don't know about Karlach originally being Black, or maybe it's the anti-Black racism that perpetuates every fandom. With the specific kind of backlash I've seen, I'm leaning towards assuming the later, because holy fucking shit, the comments I received on NexusMods were so rancid with racism that I had to turn them off; it got so out of control. Everything from calling her too manly to literally comparing her to a monkey. So yeah, I am suspicious when (especially white people) conveniently found a new reason to hate her being Black. It feels like y'all were just dying for a justification to pretend Larian wasn't racist for all this.

If Wyll was Black the whole of Early Access, but suddenly made a different race for the Full Release, would y'all say the same about him? Because if not, then quit lying to yourself that this isn't misogynoir.

#karlach #racism #fandom racism

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour four!!!!! this one is angsty, folks! strap in! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 remus has chronic pain 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠ 𖦹 again, thank you so, so much for the love on this series!!!!

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 1k

prologue / hour 3 << pt. 5 -- hour 4 >> hour 5

For a moment, he swears he's back there. Back when everything was simple for you two.

༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟒 ·:*¨༺

"Right," Remus squeezes out, "I do remember that." 

"Yeah. It was a good night."

He laughs humorlessly, "I got so wasted that night. Don't remember half of it. Shit, all I remember is you and then throwing up for about an hour the morning after."

Part of you glows. He remembered you.

"Yeah, you were... fucked up that night."

'You looked so pretty that night,' He wants to say—he can't. In the back of his mind, he's intrigued by you. He wants to know you—know you the way Sirius does. Sirius knew so much about you. He knew about your dreams and your biggest accomplishments, knew of your fears and your failures. And Remus Lupin, in some twisted way, was jealous of Sirius Black.

"You were in the flat that morning, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I stayed with you guys 'cos my flatmate was being a raging bitch."

He nods, "Right."

He remembers seeing you—your hair was a mess as you ate your cereal, and you waved at him with your spoon, wearing a bright smile.

"I was so happy to see you were still alive," Your face wrinkles with a smile, and you shine brighter than the sun.

'What a cute smile,' His brain taunts him.

"I was happy I was alive. Though, after hurling that much, I felt like death." He laughs.

You join him, "I bet. You looked deathly."

He smirks, "More than usual?"

You break into laughter as you remember one of your many insults thrown at him.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"You look like death, as per usual," You drunkenly slurred at him. Then you squint, eyes meeting his neck, "Are those fucking hickeys?" You'd messily pulled at his collar, "They are! Wow! Remus Lupin, everybody!" You hollered in the crowded bar, "Absolute man whore!"

He stared at you vindictively, "Oh, shut up!" He had yelled.

The rest of the night was a blur. You remember arguing with him more, and Sirius had intervened at one point. You were yelling profanities at Remus as Sirius dragged you away.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You sigh, "That was a horrible night."

"Your makeup was all smudged."

You snort, "I was making out with some douche."

"And I was the man whore."

You fall into fits of laughter; he soon joins you, "That was a horrid night. I went home with this guy and..." He rubs his hands over his face, "Ugh. He was just a shitbag."

You frown, "Sorry. That sucks."

"Eh," he shrugs, "It's whatever."

You're both silent for a moment, basking in the feeling of... not hating one another.

Remus leans against the wall and sinks into a seated position, "I'm really fucking tired."

He sounds exhausted, and you would say you're not sure where it's coming from, but the reality is, you've been stuck in this elevator with him for four hours, and it's tiring. You collapse next to him. Your knees touch, and it sends sparks up your thigh and through your ribcage, settling in your heart.

"And my joints hurt," He adds.

You gawp for a second, and then you nod, "Right. I forgot."

His movement is sharp as he jerks his head in your direction, "What?" He snaps.

"Hm? Are we back to hating each other?"

"You forgot about what?"

You cock your head, confused, "You have chronic pain. No?"

"I—" Remus is torn. Should he tell you? There's the chance you'll make fun of him for it, but then it hits him that you already know. You know he's chronically ill, and you haven't said anything about it, "Yeah. I have to use a cane sometimes."

"Mhm," You nod, "You've got that one with all the stickers on it."

"I've had that one for years—got it in our fifth year as a present from... everyone," He smiles, and it's so warm that you feel yourself melting into him.

You're both quiet for what feels like hours. It was about two minutes.

"You know, after that night, I always wondered what was wrong with me." You say quietly.

"What?"

"I mean..." Your tone is soft and laced with hurt, "Why don't you like me, Remus? Tell me, full stop."

He shakes his head, "I don't think you want to know."

"I do!" You insist, "I really want to know."

He throws his arms up, "Why the fuck do you care?!"

You're taken aback. It's not the first time Remus has yelled at you, but it somehow hurts the same as it did the first time. This damn lift was making you go crazy.

"Because!" You scream back, "Because I want you to like me!"

"But why?" He groans.

"Because— because I don't think you're all that bad. I see the way you interact with our friends. You're so kind with them. Why am I the exception? What is so wrong with me?"

Remus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, "You're full of yourself. That's why."

"Bullshit!" You yell, "That's complete and utter bullshit, Remus. And we both know it." 

He rolls his eyes, "See? It's this kind of shit. You wanted to know, so I told you. Now you're complaining like a baby. Honestly, I'm not even sure why my friends put up with you."

Insecurity floods your body, filling up every crack and crevice of your being. 

'My friends.' His—not yours, not ours, his.

It hits you hard, and you go silent. You always felt like an outsider in their group—they'd all known each other since they were kids, and you suddenly appear with Sirius, and they all think you're his latest feat. But you keep coming around, and you've convinced yourself they hate you—that they hate you, and Remus is the only one to actually say something.

"Honestly," he continues, "I'm pretty sure they only put up with you because of Sirius. He'd raved about you. Saying you're talented, intelligent, funny. What a fucking shame that none of it was true."

He's not thinking straight, and he doesn't even realize he's said something so insulting and hurtful until your chest sinks in, and your face contorts into an expression of pain. He's cut you open and, not even a second later, has rubbed salt into the wound.

"Shit— That's not—" He struggles out.

GUYS IM SORRY (lying)

lmk if u wanna b tagged!

@queerpumpkinnn @ay0nha @knaveism @whennyxfallsinlove @freezing-my-brain @starlit-epiphany @inkluvs @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @starsval @little-snow @bubybubsters @zvdvdlvr @venzami-burst @rosalyn-s @ttulipwritezz @fate-posts @sparky--bunny @severegiantjudgefriend @secretdazeobservation @violetteshoneybee

#༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺ #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin x reader enemies to lovers #remus lupin enemies to lovers #remus lupin forced proximity #remus lupin x reader forced proximity #moony #moony x reader

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 7

A/N: PHEW this is a tough series to write, folks. But I promise if you hang on to the end, you won't be disappointed. This is another chapter in my time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader. I hope you all like this chapter. Please don't give up on us. It's gonna get so gooooood.

Need to catch up? Here's my masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, angsttttttt

Word count: ~2.5k

Will he ever see you again?

******

You sit in your bed staring at your left hand and the diamond ring nestled there on your finger. Jeff is asleep next to you snoring quietly. You knew the proposal was coming, since you've been together for almost a year and a half, but now that the ring is on your finger there's only one thought in your head: you have to tell Elvis.

Even though you ended on difficult terms, you feel like you owe it to him to let him know that you're okay and that you can live the rest of your life without him. You know he can and will live the rest of his without you. You're not sure why, but a single tear escapes and slides down your cheek. You haven't seen him in 2 years and pushing him through the portal was the hardest thing you'd ever done. Would he even want to see you? How on earth would you make a portal to get back if he hates you?

Still, you have to risk it. Something is telling you that you need to let him know. Whatever the thing is that binds you together is screaming at you to try to find him. You pull your phone out and start doing research to figure out where he is in the spring of '62. He's filming Girls Girls Girls.

"You okay, baby?" Jeff rolls over and notices that you're awake.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just... I need to go to Hawaii."

"Hawaii?!"

"Yeah. Just trust me. I'll be back in a couple days."

"Whatever you say, babe." He rolls over and goes back to sleep.

There's a distinct squeezing feeling in your chest and you hate to admit it, but you miss Elvis.

******

Elvis gets back to his hotel room at the Hawaiian Village in Oahu after a long day of filming and lays on his bed fully clothed. Out of nowhere, you enter his mind. He's tried so hard not to think about you over the past two years, but when he's especially tired, he just can't help it. The same old wondering about whether he'll ever see you again hits him and he wants to cry. After the way you literally shoved him away last time, though, he's pretty sure you won't come looking for him again. Still, he says a quick prayer that you're okay, wherever you are, and squeezes his eyes shut so that the tears that have gathered there slide down the side of his face into his hair. For the first time in a while, he lets himself miss you.

******

On the plane, you nervously fidget with the new ring on your finger. You think about the last two years, about graduation, starting to date Jeff, getting your job, and everything else that's happened. The six months after you forced Elvis to leave were a dark time for you. And then there was Jeff. You'd met him that same night, but you didn't expect him to come crashing back into your life like he did. He dragged you out of your depression and made you go to counseling. He helped you cut back on your drinking and really actually saved your life. You don't feel about him the way you felt, or feel, about Elvis, but you love him. He's a good man and he'll be a good husband.

But he's not Elvis. And your stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him again.

******

Another day of shooting is over and Elvis falls back onto his bed again. For some reason, he's thinking about you again and he's starting to get annoyed with himself for not being able to focus on what he's actually doing. Why are you back in his mind? He shakes his head and goes to take a shower.

When he steps out, towel around his waist, his jaw damn near hits the floor. The old familiar buzzing sound is there, complete with the wavy air.

******

You step through the portal and it closes behind you with a pop.

"Hi Elvis." He stands there unable to speak. A lump has formed in his throat and he's not sure whether he should kiss you or yell at you.

"What are you doing here?" He finally gets out.

"I-I... it's a long story." The tension in the room is so thick you'd need a hell of a knife to cut through it. He walks past you to the bed and sits down on the edge of it in an effort to keep himself from passing out.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"I know. Do you hate me?" You ask tentatively, not sure you're ready for the answer. He's dying to run to you and wrap his arms around you, to feel your skin against his and press his lips to you finally after all this time. But he doesn't.

"I wouldn't say hate."

"But you're not happy to see me."

"How many times am I supposed to let you hurt me before I can stop being happy to see you?" His words cut through you like a laser and you feel the tears well up in your eyes. He's not wrong. You have hurt him pretty badly twice now. You look down at your feet to hide the tears that are now sliding down your cheeks. All you can do is whisper.

"I'm sorry."

He can tell you're crying and it breaks his heart. He knows it wasn't easy to push him away like you did, especially with the state you were in without him. After a few more minutes, he can't stand it anymore.

He stands up and takes three steps to you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly. You cry into his chest and he strokes your hair soothingly.

But you're not just crying because you've hurt him in the past. You're crying because you know you're about to do it again. For a wild second you consider just staying with him in 1962. To hell with not changing the past and with your own future. You want him. But you can't. He matters too much. You can't take that away from him or from the world.

"Now, honey, why don't you tell me why you're here?" He backs up and takes both of your hands in his. That's when he notices your ring. "What the hell is this?"

You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a second before you answer him.

"It's the reason I'm here, Elvis."

"Y/n, did you get married?"

"Not yet. But I'm going to." He stumbles backwards away from you and sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Who is he?" You sit down next to him and he gets up and walks away. He goes to the closet and pulls out a pair of pants, putting them on a little more aggressively than necessary.

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't. I need to know who's taking my woman."

"Elvis. Seriously? Do you think I don't know about Anita? And Sandy? And Priscilla?" He stops and it's like someone has dumped ice water down his spine.

"Y-y-you know about them?"

"I know about all of them. And I know who you will marry and it's not me. Did you think I was gonna sit around in my time pining over you while you lived your life?" He pulls a shirt over his head and sits down next to you on the bed. He turns and looks at you with a sad look in his eyes.

"No. I don't know what I thought. I guess I just hoped... but no, you're right. You should be happy in your time. Do you love him?" You manage a weak half-smile.

"He's good to me."

"That doesn't answer my question. Because I couldn't let you go to anyone that you don't-"

"I love him." You want to tell him that you don't love Jeff the way you love him, but what purpose would that serve?

"So I guess this is it, then?" You look into his eyes and try to keep yourself from crying again.

"I guess it is. Will you kiss me one more time. Like you mean it?"

"Honey, I do mean it." He leans in and kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing against yours tenderly.

"Make love to me like you mean it."

His hands roam over your body and he kisses down your neck.

"I mean it more than anything. Honey, if this is really the last time, I'm gonna make it count."

He lays you down on the bed and kisses the skin he can reach on your chest. Then he runs his hand under your shirt and lifts it over your head. He undoes your bra in one try and throws it to the side.

"You're so beautiful. I love your body. I just need to say that." He kisses down your chest and licks and sucks each of your nipples. He kisses back up to your mouth and groans into your mouth. His hand makes it way down to your center underneath your pants. But he stops before his fingers slide inside you.

"Would he... can I?"

"I want you to. Please." He nods and pushes his fingers into you. You moan and throw your head back in pleasure. No one will ever be able to bring you such pleasure with just his hand. He kisses your mouth deeply.

"We need to send you home. We need a portal."

"And I want you one last time."

"One last time."

You choke back tears as he moves his mouth from your neck down to your center. He pulls your pants down and off and kisses the inside of your thighs. His tongue moves up to your core and he licks over and around your clit skillfully.

"God, yes, I need it one more time."

"One more time, baby." He whispers into you as he continues to lick your clit. You feel the coil of your orgasm tighten in your lower stomach as he works between your legs.

"Yes, baby, please." You moan, running your fingers through his hair. Nothing Jeff does turns you on like Elvis does.

"Come for me honey. One last time." It doesn't take much more for you to slide over the edge into oblivion with his tongue moving on you as the electricity runs through you from your core to the tips of your fingers.

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly as he moves up your body, unbuttoning his pants to line himself up with your entrance.

"Hey. Is this what you want?" He kisses your cheek and waits for your answer before moving.

"Yes. Yes, god, I want it more than anything."

"Then look at me." You open your eyes and meet his deep blue ones in anticipation. He puts a hand on your cheek. "I will always love you. But I understand. I know we can only have this moment and nothing more. I don't love you any less because of it."

"Oh, Elvis." He presses his forehead to yours and then pushes into you slowly.

"Tell me you love me."

"God, you know I do."

"Say it anyway, so I have something to remember forever."

"I love you with all of me. Always and forever." He moves inside you, picking up speed with each thrust.

"That's my girl." He moves faster and faster, moving closer and closer to the end. Neither of you wants it to be over, but you both know you have lives waiting for you on the other side.

You wrap your legs around him in the hope that you can keep him closer for even just a moment longer. He grunts with the change in sensation and lays his head on your shoulder as he fucks you.

"I don't want you to leave me."

"I don't want to leave you." He captures your lips in a deep kiss and continues pushing toward the end. His cock slides in and out of you rhythmically and you want to cry with the intensity of your passion. Finally, he shudders and you feel his warmth fill you. His shoulders shake with the depth of his affection for you and you hold him close as you both weep. It's not long before you hear the buzzing sound and you have the insane urge to stay again.

You push his head up off of your shoulder and run your fingers through his hair.

"What if I stayed?" He pops his head up and looks at you.

"You know you can't. He's waiting for you." You sob openly. He's right. Your fiancé is waiting for you and his life is waiting for him. He holds you tightly as you cry for another couple of minutes. Then he kisses your forehead.

"You have to go, honey." You nod and slide out of the bed. You slowly gather your clothing and dress enough to get back through the portal. He stands up and pulls you to him one last time. "I will always love you. I hope he makes you as happy as you deserve to be."

"I love you, Elvis."

"I know, honey. I know." You grab his hand and kiss his fingers one last time. Then, you walk through the portal away from him toward your future. He watches you walk through and decides it's time to move Priscilla to Graceland and move on with his life.

******

It's 1966 and Elvis is knee deep in filming another stupid movie that the Colonel signed him to. He's ready to walk off the set and never come back to Hollywood. His whole career is a farce and his life feels like a joke. He finds a bathroom and is just about to seek some quiet time inside when he hears it.

The buzzing sound.

He looks to his left and sees the wavy air. It's been 4 long years and so much has changed. Why would a portal appear now? He was pretty sure that when he saw you in '62 it was the last time he'd ever see you. Still, the portal is undeniable. It tempts him with the possibility of seeing you and getting a break from his tedious and impossibly irritating schedule of filming. Even if it is a mistake, who cares at this point? Anything is better than the mind-numbing movies and soul-crushing reality of his current life.

He walks through the portal cautiously. When he does, he's shocked to find you on the floor. You have your knees folded and your whole body is shaking as you sob.

What the hell has happened to you in the 4 years since he's seen you?

******

Until chapter 8!

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