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sarasa-cat · 2 years

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The youngest adult generation and the most online generation is frustrated with being surveilled and embarrassed by attention-seeking behaviors. This has instigated a retreat into smaller internet spaces and secret-sharing apps, as well as a mini-renaissance for Tumblr, where users rarely use their full names. (The majority of new users are Gen Z, according to Chenda Ngak, a spokesperson for Tumblr’s parent company.) The voice- and text-chat app Discord, known for a culture of anonymous and pseudonymous discussion, now has 150 million users; anonymously run hyper-niche meme accounts are suddenly the coolest, most exciting follows on Instagram. The group-therapy app Chill Pill offers a “world of future friends and better days” but does not permit the sharing of any personally identifying information. (I downloaded the app but can’t make a real account—I’m over the age limit, which is 24.)

Something has shifted online: We’ve arrived at a new era of anonymity, in which it feels natural to be inscrutable and confusing—forget the burden of crafting a coherent, persistent personal brand. There just isn’t any good reason to use your real name anymore. “In the mid 2010s, ambiguity died online—not of natural causes, it was hunted and killed,” the writer and podcast host Biz Sherbert observed recently. Now young people are trying to bring it back. I find this sort of exciting, but also unnerving. What are they going to do with their newfound freedom?

In part, the trend is a response to security concerns. During the Black Lives Matter protests in the summer of 2020, young people downloaded the encrypted messaging app Signal by the millions to avoid the surveillance they considered possible or probable on other platforms. The anonymous hacker group Anonymous made a buzzy return and was embraced by K-pop fans, many of them anonymous, while engaging in pranks that doubled as acts of civil disobedience. Other activists disseminated tools for blurring protesters’ faces in Instagram Stories, and tried to steer one another off mainstream apps and onto smaller, decentralized ones where users have more control of the data they create and share.

Anonymity can also be ideological. Crypto culture, now known as Web3 culture, was founded on the idea that transactions can be made online without the exchange of personally identifying information. It also has a newer norm of replacing one’s human face with a cartoon. In crypto circles, mentioning a very rich and successful person’s real name can amount to “doxxing,” and even those who aren’t well known are cautious about sharing the barest personal details. At a recent party sponsored by a new Web3 platform, a guest with about 5,000 Twitter followers explained to me that people online do know what he looks like—he “shows face,” as he put it—but that he has never shared a single photo of his girlfriend. Too dangerous.

But in the end, a return to anonymity is just a return to form. Hiding your identity has always been important for getting through the horror of being a person under the age of 24 on the internet. The gradual reveal of personal information, even building up to a “face reveal,” was once a give-and-take among people who shared the same online space for a long time, fostering trust. When Instagram and TikTok arrived and made it possible to make a lot of money from your face, personality, thoughts, beliefs, and personal trauma, young people forgot how good it felt to be no one in particular, or to try on various identities. In the past few years, they have been coming back around.

“It seems like Gen Z is getting really tired of presentation culture, as you might call it,” Zeke, a 21-year-old biologist and frequent Discord chatter, told me. “The idea that everything you do has to be a representation of your personal identity.” Obviously, he did not want me to publish his full name—he’s applying to lab-tech jobs right now, he said, and though nothing he was going to say to me would be scandalous or might put off a potential employer, he did not want to “risk it.”

Zeke does not have any active social-media accounts with his full name attached to them, but he is in many Discord servers pertaining to his interests, including art, writing, and science. He spends a lot of time there sharing interesting or funny photos of animals, and he met his longtime boyfriend while Discord-chatting under a pseudonym that is a play on Kermit the Frog. The site is “chill,” he told me. The servers that he likes best have 100 to 200 users, so the conversation is always lively, but it doesn’t get out of control or competitive. Sometimes people anonymously say disgusting things—the worst things he has ever read! (That well-established tendency has contributed to the collapse of anonymous social platforms in the past.) But mostly they just drop cool pictures and funny memes, and discuss or riff on them. “There’s an understanding that, like, you’re not going to kick each other, you’re not going to judge each other,” he said. “You’re not here to represent your identity; you’re just here to chill.”

The surprising recent popularity of Discord suggests a nostalgia among members of Gen Z for IRC and forum cultures that existed mostly before they were born. The return to Tumblr reflects a longing for the more recent past—just before the age of the influencer. “I’ve been on Tumblr for about 11 years because I was 11 when I got it,” Maya, an aspiring artist and photographer, told me. She asked to go by her first name only, as she does on Instagram. On Tumblr, where she feels most comfortable, she goes by the username coldstonedreamery—a reference to an episode of This American Life that she heard long ago in her mom’s car. She remains anonymous partly for artistic reasons: Being an enigma is good for world building and creating a mystique around her work, she said. She wants to be known for her point of view, not for her face or even her personality. “I mean, there are embarrassing YouTube videos of me playing guitar when I was 12 under my real name,” she added.

Being an enigma can produce strange results: Teenage girls on Instagram sometimes borrow selfies of Maya that don’t have her face in them and present them as their own. Most of the time, though, Maya sees her anonymity as being cozy. “I probably get 20 anonymous messages and questions a day, and I feel fine answering them and exposing all these intimate details of my life,” she said. “The people asking the questions probably don’t know what I look like, probably don’t know where I am or how old I am. I feel safer. There’s like a cloak over me.”

Even on Instagram, classic influencer culture is falling out of style. Among the well-known, generally beautiful faces who go by their real names, there are now thousands of niche meme accounts run by anonymous proprietors. Members of this latter group sometimes reveal their true identities when it becomes financially appealing to do so—if they’re offered a book deal, for example, they have to reveal themselves to someone. If they land a profile in The New York Times’ Style section, then everyone is in on the secret. But many more of them just post away from behind a curtain. (The more niche the content gets, the less likely it is that financial incentives will be in play, and the more likely the anonymity will last.)

The 24-year-old meme-maker behind an Instagram account called @neoliberalheaven makes pop-culture-inflected collages overlaid with parodies of online political discourse. (His profile picture is of the meme-literate musician Phoebe Bridgers.) He asked to remain anonymous for this story because he doesn’t want to limit future job opportunities and because being anonymous is part of his whole deal. The people who come across his feed can appreciate his work for its own sake, he told me, and they don’t care who he is. He also observed that anonymous accounts, by foreclosing on the possibility of becoming a personal brand, come off to some viewers as more “authentic,” or as “a new source of genuineness” online because they aren’t selling anything or trying to become stars. The internet’s prizing of authenticity has gone through the looking glass.

As a person who loves the internet, this all makes sense to me. Why should everyone have to live and write and think publicly at all times? Why should they be limited in that way? As a journalist who reports about the internet, I’ve found it frustrating too. In the past few years, more and more sources have been asking for anonymity on principle—not because they are afraid of specific or likely consequences, but because being named just doesn’t seem worth it. I can’t help but see this as unwillingness to say something and really mean it—and the portent of a sort of sad, slightly paranoid near future, in which everyone is cool, very cool, and impossible to pin down.

#technology #yet another way #that gen z is mirroring gen x #as a gen x #I remember being HORRIFIED #when millennials were not only encouraged #(by zuckbook)#to share all their RL deets online #but they actually -- gasp -- did #and then there was an attack of people in the 00s who remained pseudonymous #as SCARE QUOTES HiDinG SomEThinG #which is also why i retreated into fandom #and #refused to participate in #online professional expectations of broadcasting myself #(but- also- my employers were happy to have us NOT be brands online #for reasons of safety and other nonsense #because they didn't want news coverage #etc etc #)#...and I mean-- duh-- obvious there are people of all ages and generations #who were very pseudonymous online vs very PUBLIC online #there are always #TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE #but I have been welcoming this swing back #to my original comfort zone

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kentucky-daisey · 6 months

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Hello! I'm feeling really burnt out! Thankyousomuch!!!

#our team has been down a person for three months #so I've been doing two people's jobs #and they've finally hired someone #so now i'm doing two jobs AND training someone #because even though we have a new team member #he's only been in his role for three days and doesn't know how to do anything #so everything is taking two or three times as long because i have to show him and let him practice #and both of bosses with be on paternity leave in the new year #and no one's told me what the game plan is when that happens #AND ALL I WANT IS TO SLEEP FOR A FUCKING YEAR #in my fifth meeting about my overtime #50+ hours #my boss asked how i was feeling about him and my other boss leaving #because he was worried i'd take on too much again #so i told him honestly that at least they're working on a plan for coverage this time around #whereas the last time their plan was for me to just do everything #he looked uncomfortable #my other boss got angry and told me i need to learn to ask for help #and i didn't say anything #but all i wanted was to point out the last time i told her how overwhelmed i was and suggested ways for her to help me #her response was that we've all taken on an increased workload and to dismiss my request to reduce the amount of shit on my plate #if your employee asks you for help and your response is to effectively say you're busy #you're a bad manager #GODFUCKINGDAMNIT

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mxgyver · 1 year

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y'all I am just so... fucking tired

#work is about to get even crazier than it already is #it was one coworkers last day today #another's last day is tomorrow #we have two providers leaving june 1st & 2nd (one new job & the other retiring)#my best friend is getting married in may & my dress is currently being altered #i haven't heard back yet about the different facility request for my breast reduction #i!! want!! to leave my job so bad!!#but i can't yet until after my reduction because i need to keep my insurance :-)#also I'm pretty sure I almost had a panic attack in the fucking parking lot of the habit today #thankfully it didn't turn into one but i could feel something... off #anyways... that's just a long winded way of saying i'm so fucking exhausted and i want to sleep for 500000 years #on the bright side... our triage nurse brought her dog in today and that was nice #sierra speaks #OH AND I HAVE TO RESCHEDULE MY DENTIST APPOINTMENT #because we literally have ALL of the providers in and like... no coverage for me to come in late #do not fucking love that!!#so yeah... if you see me on here less... it's life babey

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copperbadge · 1 month

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Let's Talk About Missing Persons

So, I've seen this post circulating last week, and a few others like it in the past year. I think this probably needs to be discussed every few years, and it feels like time.

First, a few caveats: there are reports on the post that Abby has been located and is fine, so no need to reblog and also that's great news, I'm very happy she is safe. Second, I did not especially doubt the veracity of the post, so I'm not impugning the people who made and posted it, but I also declined to reblog it for reasons I'll get into. Third, I know that especially in marginalized communities it can be dangerous to involve the police, and that Missing White Woman Syndrome means it can be difficult to get media coverage. I understand why Abby's community may have chosen to search for her in the way they did.

However, for everyone's safety, I do not link any missing persons post that requires you to contact an individual to report the missing person's whereabouts. If the poster doesn't ask you to contact the police or a known missing persons organization, I won't do it.

This is for the safety of the missing person.

When you see a post with someone's photo, name, and last known whereabouts, and you are asked to contact an individual -- a family member, partner, friend, etc -- what you are being asked to do is report on the whereabouts of one person you don't know to another person you don't know. You don't know that the person you're talking to isn't an abusive partner or parent, a stalker, or a person who means them material harm. One of the Insta accounts in the missing image doesn't appear to exist, and another has no bio and very little captioning on their images. I couldn't verify that Abby even knew these people.

Again: when I looked at the image, it looked sincere to me. I didn't doubt those people were earnestly searching for a friend they were worried about. But also, an abuser doesn't look like an abuser until they do. So I don't make exceptions, because a missing person is missing but a victim outed to their abuser has strong odds of being murdered. The most dangerous time in the life of an abused person is when they are leaving their abuser. Even if a victim simply logs on to say "Hey, I'm fine, these people mean me harm" the abuser has now flushed them out of hiding, and manipulated them into making a public statement.

If you can't verify positively that the person searching does not mean the missing person harm, you should not be circulating a post, full stop. At the very least, if the community doesn't wish for the help of the police (understandable) or can't get the help of an organization or community (frequent), the missing persons poster should advise you to speak to the missing person, not the searcher, and notify them they're being sought, as long as it's safe for both you and them to do so.

This isn't intuitive. We want to help, and search posters like that tug on the heartstrings. We know that when the police get involved even in something this innocuous, it can be perilous for everyone. But in situations where someone is so vulnerable, we have to concern ourselves first with harm reduction, which in this case means not spreading someone's photo with a stranger's contact information on it.

I'm glad Abby was found and is fine and that her searchers were in earnest. But that will not always be the case, and it's important to remember that.

#missing persons #abuse #trauma #stalking

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queers-gambit · 9 months

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Mother Knows No Bounds

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.7k+

note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote

warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?

please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.

you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!

The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.

Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.

The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.

The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.

It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.

For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.

Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.

You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.

21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.

Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.

However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.

The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.

The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.

Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.

Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.

Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.

Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.

You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.

"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."

"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.

"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"

"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.

He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"I've asked you why."

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.

"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."

Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."

"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."

Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."

"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.

"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.

"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.

"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."

You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."

You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.

When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"

"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."

"Mother, it's too hot for - "

"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.

"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."

"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "

"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."

Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."

So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.

Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.

You were all of the above and then some!

The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.

Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.

Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.

Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.

This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."

"What 'bout the li'l one?"

"Pardon?" Otto blinked.

"The Queen's last son?"

"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.

Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...

"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."

"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.

"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."

"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.

"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."

Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.

The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.

"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."

"We're almost done - "

"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."

You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.

The hall was too hot.

Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.

Overwhelmingly hot.

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!

Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!

So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!

However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.

"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"

But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.

"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"

"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.

"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"

"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.

"What happened?" Otto demanded.

"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."

"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."

"You saw the Grand Maester?"

"We did."

"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.

"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.

When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.

When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"

"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"

"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.

"Mother didn't demand you stay?"

"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."

"He was?"

"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.

When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.

The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.

He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.

You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.

Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.

"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.

"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."

"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.

"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."

Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."

With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."

"I-It was a girl?"

"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."

"But my body - "

"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."

"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"

Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."

"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."

"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."

When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."

"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"

"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"

"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"

"How was I to know - "

"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"

"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."

"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."

"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"

"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.

"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."

It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.

Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."

Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."

"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."

"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."

"Just lay with me," you requested.

He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."

"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"

"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."

Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."

"I do not deserve a woman like you."

"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"

His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."

A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.

You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.

You didn't move, staring into the flames.

Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.

King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.

For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen angst

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gootarts · 10 months

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as of 8/3, the most recently updated version of this post is here (it's a reblog of this exact post with more info added)

as a lot of you know, limbus company recently fired its CG illustrator for being a feminist, at 11 pm, via phone call, after a bunch of misogynists walked into the office earlier that day and demanded she be fired. on top of this, as per korean fans, her firing went against labor laws---in korea, you must have your dismissal in writing.

the korean fandom on twitter is, understandably, going scorched earth on project moon due to this. there's a lot currently going on to protest the decision, so i'm posting a list here of what's going on for those who want to limit their time on elon musk's $44 billion midlife crisis impulse purchase website (if you are on twitter, domuk is a good person to follow, as they translate important updates to english). a lot of the links are in korean, but generally they play nicely with machine translators. this should be current as of 8/2.

Statements condemning the decision have been issued by The Gyeonggi Youth Union and IT Union.

A press conference at the Gyeonggido Assembly will occur on 8/3, with lawmakers of the Gyeonggi province (where Project Moon is based) in attendance. This appears driven by the leader of the Gyeonggi Youth Union.

The vice chairman of the IT union--who has a good amount of experience with labor negotiations like these--has expressed strong support for the artist and is working to get media coverage due to the ongoing feminist witch hunts in the gaming industry. Project Moon isn't union to my knowledge, but he's noted that he's taken on nonunion companies such as Netmarble (largest mobile game dev in South Korea) by getting the issue in front of the National Assembly (Korea's congress).

Articles on the incident published in The Daily Labor News, Korean Daily, multiple articles on Hankyoreh (one of which made it to the print edition), and other news outlets.

Segments about the termination on the MBN 7 o' clock news and MBC's morning news

Comments by Youth Union leaders about looking into a loan made to Project Moon via Devsisters Ventures, a venture capital firm. Tax money from Gyeonggi province was invested in Devsisters in 2017, and in 2021, Devsisters gave money to Project Moon. The Gyeonggi Youth Union is asking why hard-earned tax money was indirectly given to a company who violates ESG (environmental, social and governance) principles.

Almost nonstop signage truck protests outside Project Moon's physical office during business hours until 8/22 or the company makes a statement. This occurs alongside a coordinated hashtag campaign to get the issue trending on Twitter in Korea. The signage campaign was crowd-funded in about 3 hours.

A full boycott of the Limbus Company app, on both mobile and PC (steam) platforms. Overseas fans are highly encouraged to participate, regardless if whether they're F2P or not. Not opening the app at all is arguably the biggest thing any one person can do to protest the decision, as the app logs the number of accounts that log on daily. For a new gacha such as Limbus, a high number of F2P daily active users, but a small number of paying users is often preferable to having a smaller userbase but more paying users. If the company sees the number of daily users remain stable, they will likely decide to wait out any backlash rather than apologize.

Digging up verified reviews from previous employees regarding the company's poor management practices

Due to the firing, the Leviathan artist has posted about poor working conditions when making the story. As per a bilingual speaker, they were working on a storyboard revision, and thought 'if I ran into the street right now and got hit by a car and died, I wouldn't have to keep working.' They contacted Project Moon because they didn't want their work to be like that, and proposed changes to serialization/reduction in amount of work per picture/to build up a buffer of finished images (they did not have any buffer while working on Leviathan to my knowledge). They were shut out, and had to suck it up and accept the situation.

Hamhampangpang has a 'shrine' section of the restaurant for fans to leave fan-created merch and other items. They also allow the fans to take this merch back if they can prove it's theirs. Fans are now doing just that.

To boost all of the above, a large number of Korean fanartists with thousands of followers have deleted their works and/or converted their accounts from fanart accounts to accounts supporting the protests. Many of them are bilingual, and they're where I got the majority of this information.

[note 1: there's a targeted english-language disinformation campaign by the website that started the hate mob. i have read the artist's tweets with machine translation, and they're talked about in the second hankyoreh article linked above: nowhere does she express any transphobic or similarly awful beliefs. likewise, be wary of any claims that she supported anything whose description makes you raise eyebrows--those claims are likely in reference to megalia, a korean feminist movement. for information on that, i'd recommend the NPR/BBC articles below and this google drive link of english-language scholarly papers on them. for the love of god don't get your information about a feminist movement from guys going on witch hunts for feminists.]

[note 2: i've seen a couple people argue that the firing was for the physical safety of the employees, citing the kyoani incident in japan. as per this korean fan, most fans there strongly do not believe this was the case. we have english-translated transcripts of the meeting between the mob and project moon; the threats the mob was making were to......brand project moon as a feminist company online. yes, really. male korean gamers aren't normal about feminism, and there's been an ongoing witch hunt for feminists in the industry since about 2016, something you see noted in both the labor union statements. both NPR and the BBC this phenomenon to gamergate, and i'd say it's a pretty apt comparison.]

let me know if anything needs correction or if anything should be added.

#project moon #limbus company #obligatory text post tag #that's all i've got for now. highly encourage y'all to not open limbus until they make a statement

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 6 months

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Project R au except Danny is not the clone.

Instead Danny gets Ras Al Ghuls attention after overhearing that the baby in the tube was made from a bunch of "Robins/detectives" and a little of Phantom himself and looks the guy in the eye before using his intangibility to grab the baby-still not breaking eye contact- and saying, "Mine now." before disappearing.

Danny comes home and explains the situation to his sister and parents and they welcome the new baby into the family with open arms. When asked why they took dna from Danny, Jack immediately jumped in with, "Because we're Fentons!" As if that was all the reason needed.

Elsewhere Ras tells the bats about the clonenapping, conveniently leaving out the part about Phantom also being one of the babys dads. The bats go a little crazy trying to find out where thier baby is and why some no name villian (cause thats what they believe he is due to what little media coverage Amity Park has on him) wants with thier baby.

Then they learn about the ghost thing and then the research. At first they didn't believe it because they had dealt with ghosts before and they were nothing like that. But the more they looked the more they realized these weren't the kind of ghosts they were used to...

#dpxdc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #ras al ghul #is suffering #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #dannys parents dont know yet #maddie is overjoyed to have another baby in the house #so is jack but hes having trouble keeping quiet during nap times #dannys just glad he doesnt have to raise the baby alone or something #the Batfam vs the Fentons and thier wierd nightmare house

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harunovella · 3 months

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ safety net; t.f.

synopsis: when toji decided to be a good man and rescue two puppies for his son... content: canon divergence (I want a happy story for the fushiguro's!), fem!reader, reader is mamaguro, in this world your last name is fushiguro and toji took it bc f*ck the zenin, megumi is ur son (he's just a baby!), domestic bliss, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: seeing how successful my gojo anthology series is going (only two parts but going strong), I wanted to do one for toji bc I've always wanted to write his story with mamaguro (aka you!) and do a bunch of one shots that can be read as stand alones or together! pls lmk if you want more and if u wanna be tagged in the future <3 p.s. the divine dogs are actual dogs that inspired megumi's later manifestation of his shikigami in this au

It was one of those late nights for Toji. A summer evening with a heavy downpour to blur his path before him. The windshields were moving as fast as they could, swiftly clearing his vision with every wipe across the glass. He was quite used to this, running around town in the wee hours of the night, nothing new to him. It just annoyed him how difficult it could be driving in the rain when his windows fogged up and the headlights could only do so much.

He wasn't too far from home, running a quick errand before returning to his abode, wanting nothing more than the warmth of his bed.

A bed... A home...

Toji couldn't help but sigh and lean his head back against the car's headrest. Had this all been a dream? Was it real? Him, Zenin Toji, living a normal life? It had been quite some time now where he left it all behind to be domesticated—as if he were a wild animal. He didn't mind, though, a part of him was begging for a simple kind of life.

Sat at a red light as his pointer finger tapped away against the leather steering wheel, his eyes wandered the environment around him—well, as much as he could see during an evening shower. From building to building, the empty sidewalks and dim storefronts, his eyes suddenly bounced back to a bus stop. Squinting, he leaned in before turning on his blinkers.

This was very unlike him, his curiosity getting the best of him... Maybe it was because he was a changed man. Maybe it was because he had someone to go home to. Someone who made his deflated heart triple in size; someond who made him care about little things that he never did before.

Pulling over and parking his car next to the bus stop, Toji pulled up his hoodie and reached for the small umbrella that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. Rushing out and popping open the coverage, he stood before a small, cardboard box.

It was falling apart, the rain tearing at the flimsy material as the little towel beneath was completely drenched. Hearing the faint whimpers and cries of the tiny creatures that stared up at him, Toji took in a sharp breath and shook his head. He was a good man now. Better than he ever was before. He had a heart. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. These little bodies did not.

Lifting the box, he quickly maneuvered it underneath the umbrella before carefully placing it in the backseat of his car. "I hope she won't mind..." he said before making his way to the front, closing the umbrella and shutting the door after, resuming his route.

The drive home was quicker this time around, zooming to gather the bags and box he had within the car, shutting the doors and locking them behind him before he made his way towards the front door. Taking the steps and fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and slipped inside before kicking off his shoes and making his way towards the living room.

Settling the box down before moving towards the kitchen with the bag, he washed his hands and emptied the contents within it. Pulling out the small device, Toji made his way upstairs, ruffling his dark hair as he pressed a few buttons on the gadget. "Babe, this one should be fine," he spoke as he approached one of the two bedrooms.

"Oh, good," the voice responded as he entered the room. You were sitting on your son's rocking chair, holding him close to your chest as you caressed his little back. He was about six months old and the constant change in weather was getting to him, causing a slight cold to disrupt his immunity. It pained both of you to see your boy anything but happy and healthy... but, he was such a little trooper. Both of you weren't sure where he got his calmness from, seeing as you nor Toji were such a way, but you thanked the heavens for blessing you with a child like him.

"How's Megs doin'?" Toji asked as he handed you the new thermometer, squatting and gently caressing his son's head. His hand practically engulfed it, always entertaining him how tiny his boy was. It brought a small smile to his face. "Doesn't seem so fussy."

"A bit better, I got him to fall asleep. You weren't gone for too long, thankfully," you sweetly smiled, settling the small device down before caressing Toji's face. "Raining hard, huh?"

"Yeah," he nodded, only to widen his eyes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

Scratching the back of his head, Toji stood up. "Got a surprise along the way... hope you don't mind."

"What do you mean?" You tilted your head.

"Let's go downstairs," he nudged his own, waving you to follow him.

Standing up carefully as to not wake your baby boy, you followed your man down the hall and staircase, towards your living room. You were confused at first, unsure as to what surprise he could've gotten you. But then you heard it. The faint cries and rustling coming from a box. The box in front of you. "Toji..."

"You've changed me, y'know?" He said. "I wouldn't have cared back then, would've left them suffer... but, guess it's because I'm a father now and I have you... I couldn't let them die out there..." rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by the box, you curiously peeked over before gasping. "Thought it would be nice to keep 'em... give Megs something to grow with."

"Toji... there's two," you nearly whispered, eyeing the puppies. One in pure white and one in all black, both equally precious. Tiny, scared, cold... you couldn't deny them either, even if you were currently raising your own baby.

"Yeah..." Toji sighed. "I was thinkin' about giving them a quick bath now and take them to the vet early tomorrow. Don't have much to feed them but we can make it work, right?" He said, keeping his eyes on them, a bit afraid of your reaction.

As upset as you should've been, seeing as it was two more mouths to feed, instead, you felt... elated? You weren't sure why, maybe it was because you were seeing more and more sides of Toji you didn't think would exist. Or maybe you loved the idea of giving your son two furry best friends to grow with. It could've also been that you were just happy that your son was okay and getting through his cold that you couldn't be as bothered.

It also didn't help that you may or may not have mentioned a few times (while taking your strolls during your pregnancy) that your little blessing should have some furry friends around. You just didn't think it would happen... this way.

"So?" Toji asked, looking at you with timid eyes. "Can we keep 'em?"

"Toji," you chuckled. "I'm not going to abandon these poor babies. You brought them here, you're gonna have to do a lot of raising. You're now a father of three," you teased as he nodded.

"I'm well aware."

"I'm surprised you're okay with this, let alone, brought them," you pointed out.

Shrugging, he looked back down. "Like I said, it's cause you changed me and I'm a father now. As scary as that is... I dunno... guess I want that normal life and normal people have dogs, right?" Seeing you nod with a small smile, Toji couldn't help but reflect your facial expression. "I wanna give him everything I've never had," he nudged his head in Megumi's direction.

"Such a good dad," you softly spoke, caressing your sons back before stepping closer and kissing Toji's arm. "Then I guess we have two puppies now. What should we name them?"

Eyeing the two, Toji hummed. "Kuro and Shiro."

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kaibutsushidousha · 2 months

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Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024

Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.

My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?

Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.

Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.

Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.

Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.

Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.

Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.

Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.

Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.

No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.

#kokichi ouma #kaede akamatsu #kirumi toujou #himiko yumeno #maki harukawa #tenko chabashira #tsumugi shirogane #angie yonaga #miu iruma

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inkskinned · 1 year

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so one time i got bit by a brown recluse which is one of the only types of spider in my area that's actually dangerous and at first i didn't know what had happened to me, only that it was nasty. the swelling wasn't going down and the wound started to get ugly. i don't want to like get into the details because that's gross but it got to the point 2 weeks later that i was worried enough to go to the doctor, which i hate doing.

i am not afraid of spiders but other people are so i'd been covering it with this big ole square bandage (i needed more landscape coverage than a simple bandaid) and sat in the university medical waiting room, kicking my heels and playing BOTW. the nurse who admitted me was like, oh, we have got to get Tom to cover this one. she wrote spider bite under my ticket.

i waited in the near-empty building for like an hour and then nurse tom shows up in spiderman scrubs, out of breath. "sorry," he says, "i saw - your slip - and I had," he heaves in a breath, "to run home and. get. these scrubs. i literally. ran. felt like a job. for. spiderman."

i laugh. he puts his hands on his knees, thumbs-ups at me. fishes a pamphlet out from under his clipboard that basically says spiders can be scary but you don't need to be scared, there's very few dangerous spiders in new england. "honestly," he wheezes, "we probably don't need to get you into an exam room. just..." he waves his hand at the pamphlet, "read that."

i look down at my arm. then back at him in his scrubs. and then down at my arm. i like that he made an effort to make a joke, but now it does not feel like a good joke, because they are mistaking my calm for a lack of injury. "can i. like. at least show you the bite?"

he gives me kind of a weird look, which is fair, but then says. "if. i mean, if you have to."

i peel the bandage off. his face goes green.

"oh," he says.

"yeah, man."

"a... spider bit you?" his voice is high and tight and trembling. he backs up a few steps.

"i think a brown recluse," i offer. "i know it's nasty, sorry."

"excuse me for a moment." he looks over to the administering nurse on the other side of the small room. "i need to find someone else to take care of you."

the administering nurse smiles over to us with a degree of pleasure that is almost salivating. for a moment, like a window opening, i am briefly aware of what must be a psychic message floating amongst the in-between. her jaguar teeth all say this is like a party for me and i know exactly what i'm doing.

"oh no, tom," she says, grinning. "i gave her to you specifically."

#this is a real thing that happened #i then waited in an exam room for another hour until a doctor was similarly dismissive until he saw it #and then just gave me antibacterial cream which didn't help the swelling lol #it went away on its own like 4 weeks later #but that's like not the fun part of this story #i was just like. suddenly in the middle of someone else's work drama and GIRL #btw found this extremely funny #edit in the tags: oh ! i thought they were native to NE !!! ???? omg #i mean a real doctor really saw the wound and said ''brown recluse'' so i assumed he was right i never googled it #i lived on a mattress on the floor in a house of people who were always travelling #so like i guess it could have been ANY spider???#omg.....#the way this rocked my whole world

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killuintense · 7 months

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❝ two fools in love ❞

rookie!leon kennedy x fem!reader.

summary: just you going to look for Leon at the police academy.

content: 1.3k words, pure fluff, a little little bit of angst (reader miss leon), comfort, subby and cute Leon ofc.

note: the calm before the storm (I plan to do a longer one shot of angst :p)

It was Friday afternoon and the weather was colder than you expected, especially when you left the warmth of your home. You were walking through the crunchy autumn leaves that intruded on your way to the police academy, where an anxious Leon was waiting for you.

You hadn't seen him since Monday. He had kissed you goodbye with a lazy, clingy kiss —just like him— at the door of your apartment, promising to see you again at the end of the week. And finally that moment had arrived, giving you a feeling of excitement that ran through your whole body with enthusiasm. It had been difficult for both of you at that new stage in your lives, where the blond would have to go to an academy every month and only leave to see you on weekends, where both would spend from Friday to Sunday glued to each other without being able to separate for a second. But then everything would end and they would have to say goodbye. Sometimes you would accompany him, and sometimes he would leave alone, but not before sinking into your arms and filling your face with kisses, making sure you could not forget him for the remaining week.

You wondered if he thought of you as much as you thought of him, because it was suffocating to walk into the apartment and smell his scent even when he wasn't there, to walk by the refrigerator and look at the pictures of the two of you on that last vacation you had. Leon would circle your waist with his lips pressed to your neck and yet you were still able to see his smile and his little eyes slightly narrowed as you held the camera turning that selfie into a beautiful memory that you needed to see often to be strong and keep holding on to his arrival, reminding you that he loved you more than he could surely show. Although sometimes he was very messy, and you ended up finding in the least expected place some of his notebooks with reminders about some element that he should take into account for the physical exams they took at the academy every so often; his handwriting was as strange as he was, cursive leaning to the side as if his mind was faster than his hands. And as the days went by you refused to put in the washing machine the last T-shirt he had worn before he left, which held his cologne and his warmth. His smell of roses, so particular but masculine, and you could only remember the desire to devour him every time you saw him again, standing like a pathetic child who only expected your approval for everything, who blushed even with your slightest pampering or compliment. He emanated that warmth in which you wanted to sink and die, to die in the happiest way of all, where you never let go of him and only remained in love with him and his love.

You thought the nights were the worst, and sometimes you struggled to choose which was harder, the coldness of the bed or the coldness of your body, without his arms around you, without his silly jokes with that sleepy and tired but mellow voice, with his lips leaving wet kisses on your face and neck. You stroked his hair, that soft clump of golden hair, somewhat dull at times as he whispered that he loved you, and down your spine ran a shiver that made you giggle like a fool, asking him to stop even though deep down you knew he wouldn't because you really didn't want him to.

He was so naughty, always doing what he wanted and getting away with it, behind that silly and pathetically shy attitude, always letting his hands travel a little more than the coverage of your nightgown, squeezing and biting the way you loved it. It was too much to see how delicious you were in his eyes, the way you managed to elucidate in her eyes that there was never enough of your body to satisfy his hunger. That's why the nights were empty without his company, but so full of warmth when he was there, so full of that hungry love he gave you.

Now, in the distance you could see him, saying goodbye to his companions who were also greeted at the entrance by their families or partners, some of them leaving alone as well. But he was lucky enough to know that you would arrive at any moment, stealing a smile as he looked around like a puppy anxious to meet his owner. He was too cute for your heart to bear it a second longer, so you decided to cut his waiting short, jumping behind him while hugging him by his shoulders, having to slightly tiptoe because of the height difference "Waiting, big boy?" you murmured with your voice choked in his neck giving him a soft kiss, making him not hesitate a second longer to turn around and wrap his strong and chubby arms around you, which always knew how to hold you with determination.

"My love" he said happily, hugging you, feeling that that torture was finally over. And, no lie, Leon was an exaggerated person by nature, dramatic as shit; he looked at the little picture he had taken of you every time he felt that his stay at the academy was like being in a war, and your picture smiling at him was the only light in his path (that day the major Krausser made him wake up at 4 a.m. and he felt he was really dying). "I missed you so much..." he said after a sigh of relief, squeezing your waist before seeking your mouth desperately, giving you a kiss loaded with pleasure and welcome, those kisses that felt more meaningful than any other because they had the genuine desperation of needing you in order to feel alive. He pressed you against his body as his tongue caressed yours, dominating the kiss by his eagerness to have his way with you, leaving you the opportunity to suck on his lower lip with mellowness before pulling away.

"Wow, did you miss me?" you resist, stroking his face and squeezing his cheeks. You always made sure he was well fed, you hated the idea that in his training they weren't attentive enough with the food and made him go hungry, but his cheeks were always fluffy, his arms strong and his legs and chest... you found yourself more than you'd like looking at him morbidly, wanting to squeeze him so badly. And well, why deny that more than once he scolded you for biting him too much in those places where a simple kiss didn't do his figure justice.

"I'd say the same about you" he murmured against your cheek while in his tone you could feel his playful chuckle. Both of you glued to each other with decorum and that was one of the things you liked most about Leon, he wasn't ashamed to show you your love in front of anyone, not his academy mates or strangers, he was proud to have such a fucking beautiful girlfriend and denying it would make him an idiot. And he could be a dramatist, but never an idiot. "I feel like my stomach is going to explode if I don't give her some of those delicious hot chocolate pancakes you always make" you resist as you look into her bambi eyes, big and blue. Your legs were working too hard not to bow down to him because of the tenderness he caused you, but you really couldn't help but be weak in front of that blond.

"Leon you look like a giant baby asking me to make you a snack" you laughed, biting his cheek with desperation before hanging on his shoulders to stare at him, your gaze surely reflected that overflowing love you had for him "But you're my baby so let's go get those pancakes" you feel his happiness hit your face at the moment a smile of complacency feeds your ears.

Disentangle themselves from that smothering embrace but soon it doesn't take long for him to take your hand and entwine it with his, gently caressing your knuckles. You start walking towards the apartment amidst banter and fleeting kisses, you sometimes gently tap his shoulder when he tries to kiss you but you run your face to spite him, and Leon swings his hands together, sighing like a fool in love. They were both fools in love.

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golden1u5t · 19 days

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honeymoon | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: angst + fluff + smut(more so the beginning)

ꨄ summary: sex has always been a bad subject growing up, it was shunned upon to give into your bodies desires without being married or wanting kids. the abuse that came with this topic has caused you to hide away from it, you've never told spencer but when you do, he makes sure to make you as comfortable as he can.

spencer stopped in his tracks as he noticed you standing in the middle of the room with your head turned away from him, he let go of his shirt so that it dropped back down over his body. when he reached out and touched your arm you jumped, looking back at him with wide eyes.

"sweetheart? are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his hand around your wrist and guiding you to sit on the bed. you leaned onto his shoulder and sighed, intertwining your fingers with his.

"it's our honeymoon- people have sex on their honeymoon!" you sat up and looked down at the ring on your finger, not yet used to the feeling of it weighing on your finger yet but you knew that you would eventually get used to it just like you would get used to the new last name.

"sex isn't a requirement to have a honeymoon, its just something people do to feel good and connect with their partners. there are some people in the world that are completely uninterested in sex. don't feel obligated, honey."

spencer honestly wouldn't mind if you didn't ever want to have sex, he went majority of his life without it, he was just grateful you're in his life and he's able to call you his wife. he wants you for the rest of his life, with or without the sex.

"no, that's not it." you huffed, sitting up from his shoulder and averting your gaze to the big window in the hotel room you were both staying at. your room was a suite, a wedding gift from rossi, so you could see over the busy city below.

"do you remember when i told you that i grew up in a very toxic household?" spencer nodded his head, you let out a small laugh because he remembers everything, it was a question you didn't even have to ask. "well, sex was a very touchy subject. i was always told that women were just to have children, that we couldn't do it unless we were married and ready for kids. but i'm not- i don't want any children right now and i don't want you to think badly about me because of it."

you brought a hand up to try and stop the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. it was no use though, the second spencer reached up and cupped your face with gentle hands, the floodgates opened. he didn't try to force you to look at him, he knew that you would when you were ready, you were putting yourself in a vulnerable position.

"i would never think any less of you because of that. you know that, angel." spencer's voice was soft, as if he was talking to a scared child. he ran his thumb over the skin under your eye, wiping away those salty tears that escaped.

you leaned into him and buried your head into his chest, hands grasping at his shirt. spencer's hand fell onto your back and started to rub soothing circles while you caught your breathe and calmed down.

while he held you like that you started to imagine how he would hold you in bed, how his hands would gently caress your skin, how he would make you feel safe and comfortable with him. you knew he would do all those things for you, you knew he would do anything you wanted. all you had to do was ask him and he would move in a heartbeat to make sure you got it, no matter what it was.

though, you were still having a lot of doubts and you needed to gain more confidence in yourself before you were willing to shed layers of coverage from your body, bring your guard down and let him into the last blocked off part of you.

so, for now you laid there in his arms, listening to the busy streets of the city and feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. spencer dropped his head down and rested his head on top of yours, his hand moving up your back and running his fingers through your hair.

everything in that moment was perfect, it was like when he wrapped his arms around you he somehow made a bubble of security. that's when you decided you wanted him, you wanted to bring those walls down and share yourself with him because you knew he would take care of you, he would be gentle with you.

"i want to try it." you spoke, though your voice was muffled from the way you were pressed against his chest. spencer let out a hum of confusion, pulling back and looking down at you. so you sat up and repeated yourself.

"are you sure? this is something you need to make sure you really want." his eyes scanned your face for any sign that would contradict your words but he couldn't find any.

"i'm sure, spence." you place your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, leaning forward and placing your lips on his. spencer let go of your hand and placed them on your waist instead.

spencer pulled away from your lips and instructed you to get higher on the bed. as soon as you laid back on the bed, he was crawling on top of you. you quickly discarded your shirt and started to push your pants down but spencer caught your wrist in his hands.

"patience, angel. i'll get there."

#golden1u5t #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #soft dom spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader angst #spencer reid x fem!reader fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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puckarchives · 4 months

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personally, i found it very attractive: l. hughes

blurb: in which an interview with the devils' upcoming rookie takes the intern by suprise. / word count: 1.5k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

To be fair, all that I wanted to do was leave the Prudential Center, go home, and take a long bath. The game between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers had gone into overtime, and as much as I loved my job, it truly had been a long day.

Flashing my lanyard at the security guard standing outside of the Devils' locker room, I was ushered into the room, joining the growing cohort of other journalists; writers who had made their entire career off of reporting on the comings-and-goings in the sports world. Now that the team had been solidified with major additions, and taken players off of their Injury Report roster, the Devils had put up a good fight against their Hudson River rivals.

Grabbing my phone and opening voice notes, I made a beeline for the one player that I needed to cover— Luke Hughes, one of the newest additions to the Devils, and a hell of a defenseman that I needed to talk to on his play earlier on the ice. And, thanks to the work I had put in weeks before trying to get this same interview, I had the opportunity to actually talk to him, instead of having to wait around in a circle while other journalists droned on (and asked) practically the same questions over and over again.

I had fallen in love with sports journalism because of this— because of the opportunity to speak with the players who have it their all on that ice, and who had a true passion for the game they played.

I once again flashed my I.D. to one of the team's publicists, Sharyl, and she smiled over at me— shaking my hand and calling over Luke.

"Hi Y/N! How are you holding up over this season?" she asked as we stood in our corner, both angled to see the player coming towards us.

"Hi Sharyl, I'm doing well! Just finished up my third-year, and I just need this last interview to finish up the project I've been working on these past few weeks," I told her. It was true— I had been working on this player profile for the past few weeks, and currently, this single nineteen-year-old rookie was the only person left on my list before I could publish the article that I was hoping would help my career.

"Oh that sounds so good, sweetheart! I know just how many hours you've been putting in here, and I'm so excited to read!" the older lady said.

"Here's Luke now!" she said, saying hello to the defenseman, and then turning back to me.

"Luke, this is Y/N, the reporter I mentioned from ESPN's journalism internship cohort. She's just going to go over a few things with you, and finish up her profile," she told the curly-haired boy.

"Hi, Luke, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you!" I spoke up, putting my hand out for him to shake.

It seemed to take him a few moments to catch up with me; and, to be fair, that was to be expected. I was his age, and from the way Sharyl was speaking about me, you'd expect me to be much older, or even a man. When I had begun working for ESPN's College Internship program, I had started with baseball as my main coverage sport— slowly growing from that to hockey as the seasons changed, and then, finally, landing on the Devils as my main beat at the beginning of the season. With all that, however, I knew the way people looked at me— questioning as to why an eighteen year old college student was interviewing men in sports that others thought I didn't even know existed, or even know how they worked. So, his reaction was expected.

The six-two boy in front of me seemed to be struck out of whatever stupor he was in, however, and shook my hand back.

"Hi, Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Sharyl said you'd be stopping by," he said. He was quiet, and I could tell how much of a toll the game had on him— despite being freshly showered, he sported his signature smirk— looking down at me as the cheers and celebrations kept it up behind him.

"Yeah! I just have a few questions to ask, but do you want to follow me out to the media office? It shouldn't take too long, especially since I'm sure you want to go celebrate your win tonight," I told him.

Not really looking for a response, I looked over the boy— he was, admittedly, cute. His eyes were full of life— and he filled out his after-game clothing well. That, and the coupling of beauty marks over his face just enhanced how handsome he was. God, get it together, I told myself. You're on the job!

Finding ourselves in one of the various media offices hosted in the Prudential Center's basement, I sat down across from the rookie, and waited until we were both situated to start the interview.

“So, thank you for sitting down with me! It was a long game out there, but you’re really pushing through,” I laughed, trying to ease the tension I could feel on my end. I really didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of this very cute boy, and even less knowing that he was a professional player in the sport I covered heavily.

“No— no it’s all okay, no worries,” he said, “I’d rather be here than listening to Shmido trying to recap the entirety of the second-half,” he laughed.

“Well, you’re the first to say that,” I smiled back. “So, now that you’re on your second official NHL game, I kind of have to point out— you went from playing for Michigan, and then skating for the league in just a few weeks, and you admittedly have had a huge transformation—” I started.

“Yeah I got faster,” he laughed, his cheeks tinging a shade of pink, and I couldn’t really lie to myself and blame it on his earlier celebrations. “Don’t worry, you can say it— Jacky has.”

“Well, I’ll be honest, it’s really been great to watch. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire game,” I said, and then admittedly felt my own cheeks flush, because truly, what was I thinking? Was I openly flirting with a guy I was supposed to be interviewing? Before I could feel myself blush even further, or even make the situation even more awkward, the silence was broken with Luke’s laugh— a stark and loud chuckle that made me look up automatically. His blush had now traveled from his cheeks to the tip of his hair, peeking out of his wet curls.

He ran his hand through his hair, “Well I mean, that’s definitely great to hear— are you serious?” he said, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if he was joking— if he was making fun of my obvious lack of flirting ability, or egging me on.

“Very,” I said. “It was a great game, and the goal you made in OT was just so smooth! Personally, I found it very attractive” I said; I had spent the entirety of the game looking at Luke skating— the smooth and strategic moves he made on the ice, passing the puck back and forth as if he was moving in water. He was beautiful on the ice— weaving between the opposing team’s players quicker and way more efficiently to the point where they couldn’t even keep up with him.

“And I have to point out the pass you made to Jack in the second-half and the assist you sent to Nico! I haven’t seen a lot of puck work that really resembled that in such a while, and—” I cut myself off, trying not to let myself ramble any farther in front of the boy I could feel myself crushing on.

“I mean that’s really a high compliment, thank you,” he said. “I mean, I know this might not be entirely appropriate for the interview, but I’m free after this, if you are two?” he asked. This had to be some kind of cliche, I thought, not really thinking that he had just asked me out.

I did, however, hope he wasn’t egging me on— and, besides, after this profile came out, I wouldn't be covering the NJ Devils until next season, so why not? Why not spend an afternoon with a hot hockey player who I had already called cute? “You know what? I am also free, and I was going to get dinner, if you wanted to join me,” I responded, hoping the youngest Hughes would take me up on the offer too. “I also don’t have class tomorrow, so yes, I am very free after this,” I laughed.

The boy in front of me smiled up, pushing the curls falling in his face back, and saying a quick “Well, then let’s get this thing started.”

#luke hughes #new jersey devils #nj devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine

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beaft · 2 months

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maybe it's just the news about the ban on puberty blockers, or the renewed coverage of brianna ghey's murder, but i can't help feeling like transphobia in the uk is gaining traction every day. it feels genuinely unsafe to be trans here and while i'm not in fear for my life, i cannot escape the sense that i am living in a world that is fundamentally hostile towards me and people like me. and it's not getting better. it's getting worse.

for months i worked at one of london's biggest bookstores, where i was told to display authors like kathleen stock and helen joyce and abigail shrier as face-outs because they were so popular. i had to smile and make small talk while ringing up these books. i didn't complain about this. what would be the point? people want those books, so we sell them. that's what bookshops are for. you can't just not sell books because you don't agree with what's in them. so i didn't complain about it.

the number of trans hate crimes has hit a record high. the tavistock's young adult department has shut down. the wait to be seen at a gender clinic is now ten years and counting. and yet i still have to read articles in mainstream leftist newspapers that talk about how there should be more restrictions placed upon us, or how the mere fact of our existence is endangering children. of course you can't complain about this either. last week i had an appointment with a cis doctor who used the correct pronouns for me and expressed sympathy for my struggles with the NHS, and even that was enough to almost bring me to tears, because i'm so used to doctors treating me with suspicion or discomfort that even the bare minimum feels like a gift.

you can't complain about it. other trans people already know how it is, so there's no point in telling them, and cis people don't care. what good do words do if nobody's listening?

#whenever i see a uk article online about a trans-related issue i have to force myself not to read the comments #because i know the vast majority will be hateful vitriol #it's just exhausting #transphobia #be shh now #vent post

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phoward89 · 18 days

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Based on this ask

Academy! Coryo x Academy!Reader,

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus is a warning in and of itself. Smut, p in v, tittie sucking, tittie fucking, cum licking, groping, cussing, first time, just the tip is NEVER just the tip, Obsessed!Coryo, Big Breasted!Reader, Pervy!Coryo, Virgin!Coriolanus, Virgin!Reader, Shy!Reader

When you hit puberty you begin developing breasts faster than your peers. When the other girls are in training bras you're wearing an underwire. And then when everyone hit high school at the Academy, well they're in cute little demi-bras and Lacey bralettes while you're in full coverage/support bras. You have a drawer full of underwires, front closures, etc. Yes, your bras are cute too, but unlike the other girls at the Academy you have to go to a special bra/lingerie shop that specializes in products for large breasted women.

Your mother was shocked that you're so busty since she's on the smaller side. Your older brother, Rein, was so afraid that you'd be taken advantage of or find yourself in trouble with boys because of having big boobs at such a young age. He more of less big boob shamed you (which you learned after dating your boyfriend wasn't cool) and convinced you to wear larger/baggy shirts to hide the size of your boobs.

So for years you listened to your brother and wore larger shirts. Underneath your shirts you always had a strappy tank or a cami on over your bra, to work as an undershirt/barrier between your skin and the larger, baggy shirts you always wore.

One day, when you're in your senior year literature class, you feel like you're being watched. As if somebody's breathing down your neck. You look over your shoulder, trying to catch whoever’s staring you down in the act, only to see your classmate with his head buried in his book.

Coriolanus Snow.

You've known him since kindergarten. He's best friends with Sejanus Plinth. You're friends with both of them, but it's not like you hang out with them alot. Or actually it's not like you hang out with Coriolanus a lot. You hang out with Sej. In fact your mother encourages it. But you think that's cause his family's filthy rich.

You just brush off your feelings as silly, as being paranoid. The boy with a halo of light golden curls wasn't leering at you, he had his prominent nose in his copy of The Crucible. He was the top of your class; very serious and studious.

Of course he's engrossed in his book. The same book you and the rest of the class are reading.

It's about the Salem Witch Trials thousands of years ago in a New England colony of North America during the Pre-Panem times. The book's actually a screen play by a famous writer- Arthur Miller. Your teacher says that there's a film too; that once the class has finished reading the book, testing on it, and writing the thesis on it, then the class will watch the movie.

Oh, you can't wait for that.

You go back to reading your book, causing Coriolanus to let out a tiny breath he didn't even know he was holding. The top student was, in fact, staring at you like you hung the moon and stars. Truth be told, he stares at you in the few classes you share.

Coriolanus always sits behind you, looking at you longingly. He's known you for at least 12 years now, but it wasn't until this year that he realized he needs you.

Biblically!

Coriolanus is enthralled by you. There's just something about you, he can't quite put his finger on it, that makes his cock twitch and his balls tingle. His palms go sweaty and his mouth waters. He can't look at you without getting hard.

Hell, he's thankful for the godforsaken kilt that's apart of the Academy uniform otherwise he'd have visible wet spots (cum stains) on the crotch of his pants. Yes, he cums just by staring at you and fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with you.

God, how he wants to fuck your pussy for bad. You're such a smart, sweet girl and he's got a dark desire to fuck you dumb. He also wants to fuck your throat until your vocal chords are shit to hell. Damn, he wouldn't mind tearing up your ass either.

And of course, he wants to eat your cunt. He also wants to suck on your titties. Coriolanus will never admit it, but he's a boob guy. Bigger the boobiea the better.

But that's the only thing about you that puzzles him. Your boobs. He can't get a good estimate on their size by looking at you because you always wear baggy and loose shirts.

Coriolanus often imagined what your tits look like underneath your light blue uniform shirt. He hopes that one day he gets the chance to find out.

Almost being caught staring at you was what Coriolanus needed to give him the courage to approach you. He's been staring at you like a creep since Fall and it's now late Spring, so it's time to make his intentions known.

Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes look at you from over his book as he hatches a plan to get you to go out with him. He knows that you're friends with Sejanus and that the big bear of a boy has a crush on you, so he needs to make his move fast.

Maybe after class?

Yes, Coriolanus decides he'll approach you after class.

You're packing your stuff up in your Academy issued leather satchel whenever a shadow falls over you. You look at, curious to see who's casting a shadow over you, only to see Coriolanus’ tall form towering over you.

“Hi, Coriolanus.” You smile, closing your satchel.

“Please, Y/N, call me Coryo.” The handsome blonde boy insists with a smile.

“Okay, Coryo.” You agree to use the nickname while slinging the satchel over your shoulder. “So?...”

“I was wondering, my darling, if you, perhaps, would like to eat lunch with me?”

“Are you asking me out on a date to the mess hall for lunch?”

“Yes?” Coryo smiled, sounding nervous.

You thought it was so cute how Coriolanus Snow, who's usually so composed and confident, was a bundle of nerves asking you on a lunch date. His cheeks were flushed and the tips of his ears were pink.

“Okay, let's go.” You tell him, smiling happily.

And that's the moment that Coryo snagged you up as his girl.

You've been with Coryo for a couple of months now and the boy's eager to get into your panties. So eager that if he doesn't fuck you soon then he's going to explode and die. Well, not really just metaphorically, but still…If he doesn't get to stick his desperate over horny, pervy big cock into your tight virgin cunt he's going to lose his mind.

And it's not like his sanity's that stable to begin with. He's already a bit obsessive with you.

The 10th Hunger Games is fastly approaching and nobody really gives a shit. There's commercials for it on CapitolTV, but people’s grown bored of it. It'll be airing in about 3 weeks, starting with the reaping on July 4th.

And of course in your social studies class you're learning about the reason for the games- again. The Academy teaches it every year. It's overkill really. Of course, your teacher assigned a group project about the good of the games, blah blah blah. You could care less, but of course your boyfriend volunteers to be your partner for the project.

And he cares.

Not about the games, but the grade that the project on the good of the games can grant the two of you.

So, that's how you find yourself in your bedroom on your bed books scattered around and a poster board on the floor one afternoon after school. Your mother's staying the week with her boyfriend, trying to fuck and marry her way out of living paycheck to paycheck, so you're home alone with Coryo.

Which is why your project supplies are scattered all over and Coryo's got you in his lap, tongue shoved down your throat as he kisses you like a starving man that's just been given his first meal in years.

You've kissed Coryo before a few times since you've been dating, but nothing like this. Nothing were you're all alone with no one to interrupt you, where you have the freedom to maul each other's faces off while breathlessly melding your lips together and rocking your lower bodies together.

Coryo hasn't been able to cop a feel of your boobs yet, since you've never been alone for too long or always had the fear of somebody walking into the room on you. But now, since you've got your apartment all to yourselves for a few days, your boyfriend with the light golden blonde curls is finally able to fondle your tits. Unknown to him, you're very busty.

And unknown to you, Coryo's a simple man with simple tastes when it comes to a woman's body. He's a classic T&A man.

He loves himself some good old tits and ass. And the bigger the titties the better.

Coryo's mouth pulls away from yours, leaving a messy trail of spit hanging between your kiss swollen lips. As you pant, trying to catch your breath, your boyfriend's leaving sloppy open mouth kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You feel warmth pooling between your legs and let out a little mewl, but then your eyes go wide as you feel Coriolanus' large hands each grab at one of your large breasts.

Coryo smiled into the crook of your neck as he realizes that you're hiding some big ole boobies underneath your loose fitting uniform shirt. Fuck, he squeezes your big boobs again while lifting his head up. A wide, manic grin spreads over Coryo's face. “You're hiding some big titties under this baggy shirt, huh, baby?”

“Coryo…” You sigh, feeling a bit embarrassed, while trying to squirm away from him.

“What's wrong, Y/N?” Coryo asks, feeling a bit rejected as you try to push him away. “I thought we were having a good time fucking around?”

“We were but then…” You trail off, only to wave a hand in front of your big boobs.

Coriolanus’ brow knitted and his nose twitched slightly in disbelief. “What? You mean you're embarrassed that I grabbed your perfect, squeezable tits?”

“It's embarrassing to be 18 and have boobs bigger then some grown women, Coryo. It's-” You began to explain why you're self conscious about your big breath only for him to, oh so eloquently (not) interrupt you with, “That's bullshit, Y/N.”

You blinked at him, unsure of how to react to his sudden outburst.

“I like titties; ass too, and believe me the bigger the better.” Your boyfriend, who’s usually so prim and proper, bluntly tells you.

“Yea?” You ask a bit thickly, feeling all of your nerves fluttering in your stomach like butterflies.

“Yea.” Coryo nods, a lopsided grin on his lush lips. “How ‘bout you show me what's underneath your shirt? Hmm?” He suggests, waggling his brows.

“Okay.” You nod, causing your boyfriend to quickly unbutton your shirt.

But as soon as he pushes your open shirt over your shoulders he's signing in frustration. Tilting his head and giving you a sideways look, he dryly asks, “Why're you wearing another shirt for?”

“I always wear a cami over my bra. It's a barrier between my skin and the loose fitting shirt; it also slims down the bulk of my boobs.” Was the explanation You gave your stumped boyfriend.

“Well, I don't think that you need to do that anymore, Y/N. And, darling, I also think that you need to wear shirts that actually fit you.” Coryo tells you his honest opinion while grabbing the hem of your strappy camisole, he pulls it up. You raised your arms, letting him pull it up over your head. Tossing it over his shoulder, he licked his lips as he saw your big boobs threatening to spill out of your bra. “Let's free these puppies, shall we, baby?” He rhetorically asked, icy eyes gleaming with joy.

You nod and unhook your bra for him. As soon as you finish taking off your simple, but supportive bra, your boyfriend's on you like a magnet. His hands are grabbing and jiggling your large breasts while he burries his face in your cleavage.

Coryo feels like he died and went to Elysium as he sucks and nips the the sides of your boobs, where your cleavage is. Oh gods, how he loves your big ol’ boobies. Being face first in them turns him on, makes him harder than he's ever been in his entire life.

Coryo pays your big breasts lots and lots of attention. He sucks, kisses, and nips them all over before alternating sucking and pinching your nipples. He massages, gropes, jiggles, and fondles your big tits. He even takes his shirt off and makes you ride his thigh while your chests are pressed together.

Fuck, he just loves the feel of your perfectly big titties.

You're laying on your bed, legs spread wide open as Coryo fucks you with just the tip of his cock. Because just the tip doesn't count. It's not real sex if it doesn't go all the way in.

At first the two of you agreed to mutual.masterbation sitting across from each other on your bed. But then with how horny and pervy your boyfriend is, that turned into you two practically inches away from each other with him saying that the tip of his cock would feel so good in your cunt. That you could rub your clit and get off while he could jack off and get off.

At first you were iffy about it, saying that you've never done anything like that before. But he assured you that if you didn't like it then he'd stop.

Well, as it turns out you really liked it and he didn't stop.

“Coryo, your tip feels so good.” You mewl, rubbing your clit as you were trying to satisfy that itch you needed to scratch, that tingling feeling twitching deep inside of your wet cunt.

“Fuck, baby.” Coryo half groaned, pumping his shaft while lightly thrusting the tip of his cock in and out of your juicy wet cunt. His large cock’s red and angry with arousal. If he doesn't fuck you, really fuck you balls deep, then he's going to go completely insane.

Not like he isn't already halfway to looney tunes town already, but still…

“Baby, please, just let me slide my cock all the way in. Let me fuck you; make us both feel so good.”

“But I don't have the birth control implant; were too young for an accident.”

“How bout after you cum I pull out and tittie fuck you; cum all over ‘em big ol’ titties I love.” Coryo suggested while bucking his hips a tiny bit harder; making his tip slide a little bit deeper into your slippery wet cunt. A cunt that wants to greedily suck his cock inside of her warm, wet depths.

“Okay.” You nod. “But you have to promise to pull out and cum my tits, Coryo.”

“I will, baby. I promise, I will “ Coryo quickly swears before slamming his hips into yours and sliding his cock past your barrier and into the tight, hot, wet canal of your virgin cunt.

Or should he say no longer virginal cunt. Just like his 8 inch cock's no longer a virgin cock. Oh, how he loves the fact that he's finally fucking you after so long.

Coryo, having never fucked anyone before (just his fist and he's desperately humped his pillow a few times while fantasizing about you too, but he'll never admit) was a bit jumpy and all over the place with his movements. His thrusts were uneven and all too buckled. You were feeling desperate for some kind of relief so you start canting your hips up, chasing your high. A high that you desperately need.

Your hips rising up to meet his grounded your boyfriend's thrusts, gave him a guide on how to pace himself. Well, how to pace himself as best as he could cause he still wasn't really slowing down or something out of his motions.

It's only his first time (yours too) so it's going to take a couple more times of exploring each other to get more comfortable with fucking. He's a horny teenager after all.

Seeing your big tits bouncing around as he fucking you desperately into the mattress had Coryo in a trance. Goddamn, how he loves watching your big boobies jiggling around. The sounds of them smacking against your skin was like music to his ears.

The platinum blonde with a halo of curls dipped his head down and began sucking on one of your nipples while squeezing and smacking your other boob with his large hand. His free forearm was bracing the mattress, keeping him balanced and upright as he frantically fucked you like a bitch in heat.

Oh god how your tight pussy felt so good around his cock. And playing with your big titties as he rutted against you was.the icing on the cake.

The feeling of his large cock sliding in and out of your cunt, slamming into your special spongy spot, paired with the feeling your his mouth and his hands on your boobs had you nearing your peek. One on your hands was on his shoulder, nails digging into the skin; sure to leave marke, while the other was between your legs rubbing your clit.

“I'm so close, Coryo.” You whine, causing him to pull his mouth off of your boob with a loud pop.

‘Let me play with your pussy, baby.” He tells you, batting your hand away from your pussy only to replace it with his own. As his thumb quickly rubs fast circles against your clit, he fucks you fast while ordering, “Fondle your titties for me, baby.”

So, as he continues to pound you fast and desperately, you play with your nipples and grab at your big boobs- just like Coryo told you too.

Suddenly, the feeling of everything’s too much and the dam breaks. White hot pleasure shoots thru you as you let out a mix of curses and Coryo's name.

Coriolanus groans as he feels you soak his dick. The feeling is heaven. It feels so good. He continues to fuck into you until your panting and coming down from your high, then he's quickly pulling out of you and scrambling to straddle your chest.

“Y/N, hold your tits together so I can fuck the space between them.” Your boyfriend instructs you, causing you to quickly do as you're told. He quickly positions his dick in your cleavage only to start bucking his hips back and forth.

A throaty moan fell from his throat as he held onto your headboard, looking down at the sight of his cock slipping between your big breasts. “Oh, fuck…that's so hot…” Coryo chokes out in a deep moan. He watched his cock slip in and out, in and out of the tight space you made for him between your perfect breasts by holding them together.

And suddenly, with a final thrust,.his balls are twitching and he's emptying out rope after rope of hot, thick, cum on your boobs.

You stop holding your boobs as Coryo carefully stops straddling your chest and takes his place next to you on the bed. You thought that he was going to reach over to grab some tissues from your bedside table, but he didn't. Instead, Coryo used his tongue to clean the thick, pearly cum off of your boobs.

Yes!

Your boyfriend's so obsessed with your big titties that he licked them clean.

That shocked you.

And then after your big boobies are clean, Coryo kisses you passionately. You can taste the slight saltiness of his cum on his tongue as he slips it into your mouth. It's a very erotic kiss, to say the least.

When you break apart for air, Coryo gives you a satisfied smirk. Pulling you into his chest as he lays back in your bed, he tells you, “That was perfect, baby.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tells you, “We need to get you some shirts that show off my beloved big boobies better. How can I go back to not seeing them on display after what we've just done?”

“I’ll talk to the Academy’s uniform department, get a couple of new shirts in my right size.” You tell Coryo, causing him to smile like a kid in a candy store.

Your project for your social studies class was half-assed and you had to skip your lunch period to work on it in the library since you spent the entire week meant to work on it fucking Coryo. But it all worked out. You and Coryo ended up getting an A+ on the project. You and Coryo also had lots of fun fucking each other and learning each other's bodies.

But one thing that never changed is how obsessed Coryo is about your large breasts. He's so obsessed with them that he'll just cuddle with you and rest his head on them. Something that freaks out your mutual friend, Sejanus Plinth, when he witnesses it at school during lunch and break periods.

But what can you can say? Coryo’s obsessed with your big boobs, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Especially when the mentoring project comes around…

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