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#But these are my first.. initial... thoughts anyways...
hwaflms · 2 days
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wicked games! ★ [ l.jn ]
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{💭} jeno : let’s play a game. you like games, right?
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[☆] pairing. perv!jeno x f!reader, mentions of bf!chenle x gf!reader
[☆] genre. smut | dubcon + cheating au
[☆] wc. 4.1k
[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), heavy dubcon elements (don’t like it, don’t read.), infidelity, jeno is a perv, manhandling, voyeurism, dacryphilia, forced kissing, harddom!jeno, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, use of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, slapping, lots of spit, hair pulling, forced submission, implied sex, implied breeding, i think that’s it but pls lmk if i forgot smth!
[☆] notes. i don’t condone any of this, if you don’t like it, just don’t read it! a little darker than my usual work, but happy (late) jeno day!! not super proofread but this was meant to be a drabble and i got a little carried away…but i’m also thinking of a part 2? idk ‼️ anyways pls don’t interact with my work unless ur 18+ thank u!!!
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from the second your closed fist meets the door, you know this was a mistake.
this is not to say that you thought it was a fantastic idea before, spending over an hour just tossing and turning in bed in utter turmoil over the thoughts in your head. turning over to your left, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend chenle, sleeping soundlessly with slightly parted lips, arm wrapped around an extra pillow tightly. he wears a plain, white shirt along with a pair of checkered boxers, an outfit he slipped on after getting out of the shower and into bed.
you don't know where it went sour. you don't know when watching a show and cuddling you to sleep became him sleeping right after his shower with an arm wrapped around a pillow. you don’t know when the last time he touched you was. and you don’t remember when you started noticing jeno.
and you’ve noticed the looks, too. he’s not particularly shy about it either, so it’s some kinda of a miracle that chenle hasn’t seen him yet. when chenle first introduced you to his friends, you immediately liked every one of them except jeno. you couldn’t explain it at all, he hadn’t done anything outright bad but something about him just didn’t sit right with you. maybe it was the lingering glances, the way he shamelessly checked you out, the cleverly hidden but distinctly predatory look in his eyes when he surveyed you, even in front of other people.
jeno was chenle’s roommate, which meant you were around him a lot. you didn’t mind at all, initially, even seeking him out at home to strike up a conversation, or offer him a bit of something you had just baked for chenle. it was when you started becoming aware of the looks, of how his hand lingered on the small of your back when passing you by in the kitchen, of how his eyes scanned your legs when you wore shorts. you think the final straw was when you accidentally walked in on him watching some pretty rough porn in his room, which you only entered to return a pair of socks that got mixed up with yours and chenle’s laundry. in your defense, the door was ajar while he knew you were home, but what really got to you was the fact that he never even paused the video or tried to hide the tent in his pants when you walked in, just nonchalantly thanking you for giving his socks back. you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed the expanse of your body for a couple seconds before you left the room awkwardly, making sure to shut the door.
at first, you were uncomfortable. you debated telling chenle in your head numerous times, but your lack of concrete evidence made you think twice. was it fair to try and turn chenle against one of his best friend over a simple feeling you got? maybe not, you thought. but that feeling never went away. jeno made sure that it was persistent, made you feel like you needed to constantly look over your shoulder, until that uncomfortable feeling kind of morphed into a defeated one. you realised that at this stage, jeno wasn’t going to ever do anything. he had his chances too, so you figured that if he was ever planning to cross a line, he would have done it by now.
so you accepted that he was nothing more than a pervert and there was nothing you could do about it. that was up until a week or two ago, before you found yourself looking at jeno in a different light for the first time. it was no secret that your relationship with chenle was souring, diminishing before your eyes yet neither of you ever brought it up. instead you both sank into your miserable routine of tolerating each other, choosing to coexist peacefully instead of talking it out like you would have initially.
maybe you started hating chenle. maybe it was the empty space between your bodies, or how cold your hands felt nowadays that filled your heart with such bitterness, or maybe it was the fact that your body was throbbing, just aching and begging to be touched, that made you think all these thoughts that would have never crossed your mind before. like the animosity you felt towards chenle. and the curiosity you felt about jeno.
forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from chenle’s sleeping figure, you find yourself in front of jeno’s door, hand raised and closed in a fist like you had just knocked. your heart is pounding throughout your body, in disbelief over what you were doing. it takes him maybe ten seconds to open the door but it feels like an eternity, an undeniable feeling of dread pooling in your stomach over a situation you put yourself in. his eyebrow is raised when he opens it, one hand on his door handle and the other resting against its frame, towering over you in a way that already makes you feel small.
“can i help you?”
can he? you don’t answer, mouth opening in an attempt to speak but no sound leaves it. he inclines his head as if to urge you to say something, a bored expression on his face. jeno is attractive. you can’t even deny that. he wears a black tank top that stretches over his wide chest, a pair of loose sweatpants paired with it. the muscles of the arm holding on to the doorframe bulge, a gulp going down your throat as you look at it and look away.
he releases an annoyed sigh to snap you out of your thoughts, hand coming down to grip your forearm, all but yanking you into his room. you don’t even have time to react, already shoved near his bed when he turns around, arms crossed as he stands in front of the door in a way that could block your exit. you should have known he wasn’t going to pass up a moment with you alone.
but still, you try and explain the situation away. “t-the wi-fi password…”, you explain with a nervous chuckle, feigning indifference as you remain near his bed, a good amount of distance between your bodies. “i need the um, wi-fi password.”
you don’t even have your phone. the realisation hits the both of you at the same time, your mouth falling open a little while he looks incredulous, a disbelieving smirk on his lips. “the wi-fi password. you didn’t already have it?”, he counters, taking a step towards you. “from all the times you been in this house?”
you take a step back along with him, a blush coating your cheeks at how stupid he’s making you feel. “there must be something wrong with my p-phone”, you hate the way you stutter, wincing as you poorly argued back.
“you couldn’t ask chenle?”
“he’s asleep…”. it’s weak, but you have to try.
he finds this amusing apparently, because he repeats your statement after you, and your body freezes when she shuts his door. “he’s asleep…”
all you can offer him is a quick nod, but he sees right through you.
“you didn’t even bring your phone, doll”, he snickers, mockery just dripping from his tone and leaves you feeling vulnerable. “come on, cut the shit, what did you really want?”
at the present moment, you want nothing more than to leave, but your body is unmoving. “i…”, you start but you almost run out of breath when he takes a couple more firm steps in your direction. “what?”, he’s mocking you, and you feel that in order to be a comfortable distance away from him, you need to be sitting on his bed– a decision you immediately regret.
he’s in front of you in an instance, but makes no move to touch you. you’re face-to-face with his crotch from your position on the bed, and you have to look away to the side, heart pumping in your ears. “we both know why you’re really here, y/n.”
it’s a statement, but he looks like he’s expecting an answer, one that you can’t give him. you do look up at him though, and the look that crosses over his face makes your blood run cold. it’s all too intense for you, and you look back down, but what you see makes you blanch, not knowing which direction to look now. how is he so hard?
it should disgust you, the sight of his hand reaching down to grip his thick cock right in front of your face, but it doesn’t. your heart is still pounding as fast as ever, but your eyes flick back to his when he practically moans your name, leaning away from him a little. “at least pretend you’re not enjoying this”, he practically spits and it’s so demeaning, him looking at you like you’re the dirty one. you start to shake your head and he mockingly mimics you, scoffing when your eyes turn pleading.
much to your surprise, he takes a step, albeit small, away from you, arms folding across his chest again. your first instinct is to get up and just make a run for it, but your body is in no mood to comply. maybe it’s the fear, but a part of you think it’s from that funny feeling in your stomach, one that used to make you recoil but appears to not work now. you also don’t fully believe that he’ll just let you walk out now. it seems like he recognises this, speaking up when your eyes dart from the door to his body.
“stand up.”
your eyes glance between his like they’re searching for something behind the crazed look. your body follows that demand however, nervously picking yourself up from your safe spot on the bed. he motions with his finger for you to come closer, but when you hesitate, his hand closes around your neck faster than you can react. you’re now directly in front of his face, close enough to see every mole, every eyelash. when he reaches his arms out to you, you’re quick to move away but he’s even quicker, grabbing ahold of your waist tightly anyway, holding you in place.
noticing the tears pricking your eyes, jeno lips curve into a fake pout, leaning down to kiss at the corners of your eyes. “i bet you look so pretty when you cry.”
of course this is what was always going to happen, of course. but you knew that. why else did you come here? the countless number of nights you lay awake next to chenle, just wishing he would touch you like he used to instead of falling asleep silently. that unnerving feeling jeno always used to give you, like he was just waiting patiently for his chance to strike. this was an ugly situation that you had gotten yourself into knowingly, and jeno looked like he was getting bored of giving you chances.
with the knowledge that he was finally alone with you away from prying eyes, he smashes his lips on to yours, not stopping even when you cry out weakly against his lips, caging you in with his body as you try and fail to push him away.
you do this because it hits you that you are actively cheating on your boyfriend, even though you didn’t exactly initiate it. with the situation looking as compromising as it does, your mind gets cloudy as you try to think of how you could appear completely faultless. jeno is relentless still, using every gasp and whimper as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, knowing he’s won when he finally feels your arms relax a little against his chest.
when he pinches the skin of your ass tightly between his fingers as a kind of warning, you kiss him back somewhat reluctantly, but no one asks you to slip your tongue over his. he groans into your mouth when he feels your fingers digging into the bare skin of his arm, the hand that wasn’t holding you in place coming up to roughly grope one of your breasts. this makes you cry out feebly into the kiss, arching a little into his touch against your will when he slips the hand under your (technically, chenle’s) shirt to continue his ministrations.
the thought of chenle makes your eyes snap open immediately, freeing yourself of the heated kiss now that your head wasn’t being held in place. this is wrong. it’s like you have now come to your senses, but the look of determination in jeno’s eyes tells you that you’ve come to that realisation much too late. “jeno, we- i can’t, chenle-”
it’s clear that he doesn’t appreciate you breaking the kiss, pinching your nipple harshly before removing his hand from under your shirt to instead grip your jaw tightly. “oh, now you wanna think about chenle?”, he seethes, forcing your face in front of his, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip. “when you came in here this late at night, practically begging me to fuck you?”
he’s sick, he’s twisted, you think, because you were certainly not begging him to fuck you, but you can’t deny that you came here searching for some kind of trouble. and now you got it.
this feels like it’s some kind of dream, though nightmare would be more fitting, one of those paralysing dreams where it takes immense effort to control your body.
you shake your head ‘no’ and jeno tuts in faux sympathy, an action that you hate to admit causes some heat to pool in your stomach. “let’s play a game. you like games, right?”
you’re sure you don’t want to play whatever game he has in mind, but you understand that he’s specking rhetorically, your opinion on the matter has no place in this world. “if i put my hand in your panties, and they’re in perfect condition, you can leave and forget this even happened”, he quips like you’re ever going to be able to forget this, smiling at you with no light in his eyes. “but…”
you were expecting the ‘but’ yet it still gives you chills, standing frozen in place when he runs his hand up and down your front lightly.
“if i find that someone’s ruined her panties for me…”, he trails off, stopping his hand at the waistband of your shorts, smirking when he feels your body tense. the heat of your body is basically radiating off you, and you know there’s no stopping him now when he looks up at you with a knowing smile. “i think i know what i’m gonna find.”
the next thing you know, you’re crying out against his chest, his arms holding your slackening body up as his fingers slip in and out of you easily. you knew you had lost this battle from the moment you knocked on his door, and jeno basks in his victory when he feels you clench around his fingers, licking and biting his away around your neck. “no marks, jeno, please”, you plead with him, eyes widening in fear at the thought of chenle seeing the evidence of your pathetic behaviour. “shut up and take what i’m giving you”, is the clear answer you receive along with a sharp slap to your exposed ass, your pants and underwear long gone as jeno works his fingers in you.
he bunches your shirt up above your breasts, releasing a whistle when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra. “you were just waiting for me, weren’t you, you fucking whore”, jeno growls, and you think he’s truly deluded himself into believing everything he says, and it’s starting to seep on to you. your body jolts when he slaps your bare cunt three times in a row, like he’s punishing you for making him do this. “coming here with no bra on, just so fucking tight and ready to take me.”
he’s talking to himself at this point, because none of the sounds coming out of your mouth are coherent. jeno’s hand is forceful and quick, lips attached to your nipple and drilling two fingers into you at an angle that has you dropping your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sinful noises you’re releasing. he sucks harshly at your nipple, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive tip, and you’re in tears, the sensation proving to be too much.
he’s pulling his fingers out of you and forcing you to your knees in a flash, but you’re just happy to be relieved of the torture administered to you by his hands and mouth, that made you cry out into his shoulder out of pain and pleasure. your joy is short lived however, when your eyes shoot open at the sensation of something warm and hard tapping against your cheek. and there it is, jeno’s impossibly hard cock mere centimetres away from your lips. “just made for sucking cock”, he notes, slapping his leaking dick against your teary face in a degrading manner.
he’s smoothing a hand down your head of hair, the action so heavily contradictory to his otherwise rough manhandling. “you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you, baby?”. you think this scares you even more, because you have no idea what to expect, but he proves to be himself when he grips a handful of hair in each hand, using them like handlebars. when you let out a surprised yelp at the acute ache that results from him pulling on your hair with force, he enters your mouth fully, pulling back out when you gag. his eyes marvel at the string of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to your lips, rubbing the tears that slip from your eyes around your face with his leaking cock. “my dirty fucking cockslut, i knew you’d be like this.”
you’ve never felt dirtier, yet you can’t explain why you’re wet enough to feel the cold breeze that enters from jeno’s open window against your pussy, making you clench around nothing. gagging around his shaft for the third time because of how deep he sinks his cock down your throat, you bring a hand up to wrap around his base so as to try and control the pace of his motions. “there we go”, he hisses at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him and allows you to pump him a couple times, slipping only the tip of his dick in and out past your lips.
you keep up this pace, swirling your tongue around the tip and jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. though he lets you take charge for a short amount of time, he grows bored of your pace, opting to thrust his cock into your mouth, chuckling at your wide eyes. “i’m gonna fuck your mouth, and you’re gonna take it”, he chides, slapping your cheek once making you whine around his dick, tears mixing in with the spit and cum coating your face. “so, tell me baby, chenle doesn’t fuck you good enough?”
if he’s actually expecting an answer, you can’t give him one, mouth so full of cock that your jaw hurts, trying your best to breathe through your nose. feigning boredom, he slips out of your mouth with a sound of annoyance for a moment, and sighs in disbelief when you unknowingly chase after if with you mouth, leaning down to grip your cheeks and squeeze them together.
“i used to listen to you getting fucked by him at night. but i haven’t heard you moan in ages, pretty”, your cheeks are squished together and you feel stupid, jeno’s gaze piercing. “always knew i could make better use of you. isn’t that right?”
you sniffle, attempting to clear your throat and blink, vision blurred by tears. he thinks he’s funny when he uses his grip on your jaw to move your head up and down like you’re nodding, but your body feels so fucked out that your head keeps going when he lets go, a shocked kind of laugh escaping his lips. “fuck…you really are a slut. do you ever think about anything that isn’t cock?”
more tears leak from your watery eyes when his degrading words do nothing but send shivers straight to your core, mouth falling open when he presses his tip against your puffy lips again. he moans uncharacteristically at the feeling and sight of his cock in your mouth, fucking into your mouth and treating it like your pussy. your throat grows tired of swallowing around it but he looks drunk off the sensation, so you lay your tongue flat against the underside of his hard cock and let him rut against it.
he’s absolutely brutal and relentless with his tempo, but nothing shocks you nor makes your pussy throb as much than when he leans down and squishes your cheeks together again, letting spit dribble from his mouth and fall where his cock and your mouth meet. everything about the action is filthy, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, hollowing your cheeks as his thrusts become more erratic.
you know jeno’s close when he starts muttering profanities under his breath, the hands gripping your hair controlling your movements and forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. “dirty little bitch”, he starts off breathlessly, seeing the drool running off your chin bringing him so close to the edge. “sucking my cock while nothing but a wall separates your boyfriend from us.”
your knees hurt and his words sting, but he pulls out, quickly wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking it off right over your face. your mouth is still open and you’re sure you look insanely vulgar but it only encourages jeno, tapping his cock against your tongue repeatedly. “tell me”, he demands, spitting into his hand so he can spread the substance around your lips as you try and evade it. “tell me how much you love my cock.”
you’re repeating after him like a broken record, and broken you are, so fucked out and cock drunk that you need him to do your talking for you. “love your cock- need you-”, you’re babbling but he accepts it, groaning when he works his hand around himself while hovering over your mouth, finally thrusting it back between your lips. the way you readily go back to sucking him off makes his cock twitch, and within seconds, he’s spilling his seed down your throat.
as his dick softens, he slips it out of your mouth and for the umpteenth time, forces your lips open with his hand. he spits into your mouth, but you aren’t even surprised anymore, accepting it with hooded eyes. “swallow”, he orders you and you comply, sticking your tongue out to show him how well you’ve done. “that’s a good whore.”
you were maybe even about to reply when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of a toilet flushing, and your heart sinks– chenle is awake. you’re quick to attempt to scramble to your feet, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in that position for so long that they almost give out, not that it matters anyway; jeno has no intentions of letting you stand up. his hand is back in your hair again, making you hiss out of pain and doing a good job of holding you down, but you turn to look at him desperately, trying in vain to shake your head free. “please jeno- chenle can’t see, please-”
you’re a blubbering mess but jeno doesn’t care, simply wiping your tears from your face and cooing softly and before you know it, that unsettling feeling returns, your ears thudding with the sound of your heart. “chenle’s gonna see, baby”, he agrees in a sympathetic tone, thought nothing about him is soft or caring. “chenle’s gonna see his girlfriend getting stuffed full of his best friend’s cum, and he’s gonna see her enjoying it.”
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mobblespsycho100 · 15 hours
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which one’s toshiro and whys he autistic?
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[ID: full body colored illustration of toshiro from the dungeon meshi manga. /End ID]
THIS FREAKIN GUY!!!! anyway
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[ID: anonymous tumblr ask: "would def love to hear ur autistic shuro thoughts". /End ID]
awesome. rant under the cut because it will be long
So before we understand why Toshiro is the way he is we must first understand two things abt him:
1. his household situation is a very traditional clan of warriors type situation. his father is very strict and he left his homeland to go to the Island and explore the dungeon to train and become a warrior to be someone suited as the family head
2. Eastern and Western cultures of respect/propriety are different, and Ryoko Kui highlights it well even in her fantasy world.
With that in mind, heres some bullet point rapid fire thoughts that consume my current state of dunmeshi brain:
Toshiro has an avoidant personality. He fears upsetting others due to his upbringing, and rarely tells others how he feels not because he thinks they would simply understand him but because he doesn't want to seem rude and imposing / cause offense to others especially since he's not in his own homeland / hes a foreigner that should respect the land's customs, not his own wishes.
Setting boundaries is hard for everyone, but especially autistic (and some other ND, like those with Avoidant Personality Disorder) people. Those with ASD, at least in my experience, don't want to be isolated from others. So they mask.
They mask what? their desires. their true selves. their opinions. their discomfort. all for the sake of pleasing others (who are often neurotypical)
With that in mind, suddenly, what Maizuru said abt him as a child makes sense. Due to his strict upbringing, Toshiro had to more or less hide his preferences and force himself to adapt to the rigid constraints of his culture and the pressure to be the next family head, this responsibility is his burden to bear and he cannot be someone who expresses his selfish desires instead of focusing on being a strong warrior and leader
"Why did he say he hate Laios and that it should've been obvious that he disliked/found Laios' treatment of him uncomfortable??" BECAUSE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. I'm not going to write off Laios' autism/autistic coding, but its baffling (note: definitely racism and bias for white autistic ppl) to me that a lot of ppl don't see Toshiro's perspective and straight up ignores it. This is a lack of wanting to be rude by speaking up that is based on culture difference on Toshiro's part, and straight up ignorant of his microagressions/racism and lack of self awareness on Laios' end. They were both right, they were both wrong too. This is a complicated conflict that cannot be boiled down to simple ableist/the NT vs ND divide. There's something called . intersectionality. Which brings me to the next point
Toshiro never actually hated Laios. He found him uncomfortable, yes. But he didn't /hate/ him, he was speaking out because he's had enough!!! he's done tolerating Laios' racist bullshit, and he's done following the arbitrary Eastern rules of respecting others and not being rude!!! He. Wants. Laios. To Understand. What. He. Was. Feeling. Because he just had enough!!!!! alright!!! he's at his limit hes at his breaking point, the one he loves is now probably beyond saving, and this is a good time as any to break the news to Laios that he thinks that Laios is impulsive and doesn't fully understand how his actions have consequences!!! Hes right abt this. His feelings on this is valid, just as valid as Laios'
General autistic traits I find from Toshiro: his admiration of Falin's indifference towards insects ("woah shes so brave and gentle!! just like me, fr!!!"), His lack of regard for his own needs and wants (needing to sleep and eat and drink) because he was super focused on saving Falin, His lack of like drastic expression changes, his discomfort with physical touch when it's initiated without consent (see: Laios hugging ppl extra bonus art by Ryoko Kui), his manner of like speaking short and concise, people pleasing tendencies, his like quick way of combat, rule upholder/routine following enjoyer, he seems distant from others even those he consider family not cuz of like any terrible reason but hes just. someone who enjoys his own time alone like. yeah
aannnnndd. thats abt it? i think.
Big part of this is definitely me relating to Shiro as an Asian (specifically chinese indonesian) person who is probably Autistic lmao. I hope this brings more insight on why Toshiro is actually one of the silliest and epiccest dunmeshi characters ever I love him
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milling-around · 1 day
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The Bad Batch Finale and Joel Aron’s cryptic tweet
Okay so Joel Aron, Director of Cinematography Lighting & VFX at Lucasfilm, tweeted this:
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Initially, I thought that this was going to be the runtime of S3E15 The Cavalry Has Arrived. This episode being longer would make sense as it’s the finale of the show and it’s close in length to S1E1 Aftermath. However, I saw a screenshot floating around the other day that says the runtime of the final episode “spans 24 to 25 minutes”.
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If this episode is the typical length then this timestamp must be referring to a different piece of media. The question is, what media? In an effort to determine what could happen in the finale, I went to that point in the films to see what I would find. None of them strike as much fear in me as what’s happening in A New Hope.
The Phantom Menace - Anakin has just won the pod race and they are celebrating his victory.
Attack of the Clones - Jango Fett and Boba Fett have just attacked Obi-Wan with seismic charges.
Revenge of the Sith - Anakin is looking out over Coruscant from the Jedi Council room. He has just revealed to Mace Windu that Palpatine is a Sith.
A New Hope - Before leaving to disable the tractor beam on the Death Star, Obi-Wan delivers a line which may foreshadow what’s to come in The Bad Batch.
Empire Strikes Back - Luke is trying to lift the ship out of the swamp on Dagobah.
Return of the Jedi - Luke, Han, and Chewbacca, along with the droids, are captured by the Ewoks.
Star Wars: The Clone Wars - Anakin and Ahsoka are heading towards Tatooine to deliver Jabba’s son back to him.
At 01:09:56:01 in A New Hope, or as close to it as I could get (Disney+ sucks) this is what we see:
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Sorry it’s a photo of my computer, I don’t know how y’all take screenshots of Disney+.
“Your destiny lies along a different path from mine.”
Many people have been theorising that the show could end with the Batch and Omega surviving but being separated, either by choice or by circumstance. This line from A New Hope, as well as the fact that Omega’s voice actor, Michelle Ang, has described the ending as “bittersweet”, definitely make that a solid theory.
Maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree though. There’s also speculation about whether Omega is force sensitive, so maybe Luke using the force in Empire Strikes Back is the real clue. Despite Ventress not believing Omega to have a high m-count, and her not being one of Hemlock’s designated m-count specimens, we have seen characters with a low m-count who were capable of wielding the force. Sabine Wren, for example.
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Still, Omega being force sensitive doesn’t prevent the theory that she gets separated from the Batch from being true. It could actually be a reason for that separation because she may pursue training or decide that her proximity to the Batch endangers them.
But wait, there’s more!
At this timestamp in S1E1 Aftermath, Omega is on the Marauder with the Bad Batch (minus Crosshair) and they’re setting off on what will be her first big adventure. Omega’s Theme is playing and she’s gazing out at space with child-like wonder. While they’ve just parted ways with Crosshair, the overall feeling in this scene is hopeful.
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If the tweet is referring to this episode, it could mean that we get a wholesome Bad Batch family moment. Whether Tech is there or not may rely on CX-2 being unmasked. Perhaps it’s bittersweet because Tech truly is dead or because he’s alive but they cannot save him from the Empire. Or maybe it’s bittersweet for a whole host of other reasons.
Honourable mention
@kiffobaby also looked into what is happening at this timestamp if you combine the runtimes (including credits) of all episodes in clone relevant story arcs and didn’t really find anything of note. If credits were removed then it would put at us a different point in the arc, however it’s unlikely that we’d be looking for a timestamp in an arcs combined duration anyway.
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If you’ve read this far, I love you and don’t worry, we’re almost done.
Secret 16th episode?
Seasons 1 and 2 each had 16 episodes which leads me to speculate that this timestamp could actually be the runtime of the final episode, a secret 16th episode.
Is it likely? No. Can I dream? Yes.
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slythepuffle · 2 days
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Another one shot for @dismissivedestroyer’s Dexter Lives AU. Angst was requested and so angst ye shall receive. Plus it’s something that’s already been brewing in my mind. Set during Hollow Sorrows.
TW: Violence against people, Thoughts of Violence, Implied Character Death (If I’m missing anything please let me know)
He didn’t mean to.
That was the one constant thought running through Dexter’s mind as he sat in the front office, looking down at his feet. The principal was talking to his mom, he could hear them through the door, but his racing thoughts drowned out their words. They made him feel like he was underwater, drowning under them while muffling everything else.
He didn’t mean it – Yes he did – He didn’t want to do it – Yes, he did – It was an accident! – NO IT WASN’T– 
The door opened. He flinched, violently, before slowly turning his head. His mother stood there, her expression just… tired, as she looked back at him. Angry, no, furious, no, disappointed, maybe a little. But mostly… just tired.
He stood up quickly, mouth open to say something. “Mom–”
“Let’s go home, Dexter,” she said quietly, and his mouth snapped shut. He nodded quietly, shrinking under her gaze, and grabbed his backpack off the floor. They walked through the front office, Dexter trailing behind his mother, listening to the whispers around the office as they left.
“Did you hear what he did?”
“What an awful boy…”
“His mother should be ashamed of him.”
His shoulders jerked up to his red ears, grinding his teeth together, and digging his nails into his backpack straps. But he didn’t do anything, no matter how much he itched to do something. He was already in enough trouble as it was anyway. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else either.
The whispers lingered, long after they had left the office, now just sitting in the front seat of his mom’s car.
Dexter couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t bear to see her disappointment, her anger, her shame. He heard her sigh, and then – “So, what happened?”
He blinked, turning to look at her. She wasn’t looking at him, staring straight out the window, hands on the steering wheel. “W–What do you mean? D–Didn’t the principal tell you?”
“Yes, he did tell me,” she confirmed, turning to look at him. Again, she didn’t look mad – she should have been – just tired and expectant. “But, I want to hear it from you too. So, Dex, what happened?”
He looked at her, uncertain. What could he tell her? What should he tell her? A lie? Something to make him sound better to her, like what he did wasn’t wrong? His stomach churned at the thought – He couldn’t lie to his mother.
“I–I did hit the kid,” he mumbled, sinking into the seat. “B–But I didn’t mean to hurt him! I swear I didn’t. I was just… upset. He put spiders in my locker.”
That had been the main reason. The kid was a bully, but had gotten away with things before because he was the teacher’s son. Dexter was his main target for a long time already, and this incident just pushed him over the edge.
But there was another reason. One that scared him.
After he first hit the kid, he felt a sudden, almost euphoric rush. It was… pleasing, to see him hurting and crying after what he did. But then, Dexter kept hitting him. He hit him and hit him and hit him, until the kid’s face was bloodied and bruised.
And some sick part of himself had liked it.
Dexter had liked watching him bleed and had especially enjoyed being the one who caused it. But he also hated it. It felt wrong, to see the other kid in tears, covered in his own blood. But he continued to hit him, up until a teacher pulled him away.
It was worse when he was sitting alone in the office, after the initial rush had faded away, leaving him guilty and scared of himself.
What would have happened if the teacher didn’t stop him? How far would he have gone? Would he have hit him even after the kid no longer moved? Until he was covered in the other’s blood, fists bruised by how many times he threw a punch?
Those thoughts made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to hurt other people, he really didn’t. He just… did. And he had enjoyed it, in the moment, which made him feel even worse.
Dexter felt himself tear up at the memories and thoughts, turning away from his mother in shame. What would she think of him, if she knew what was going on in his head? Would she still consider him to be her little boy?
Would she hate him?
Michelle looked at her son. He was so grown, almost thirteen now. But, to her, he was still her little boy, the one who she hugged whenever he was cold. She knew that he would never hurt anyone without purpose or a reason, regardless of what other people said. He was always striving to be a good kid, never realizing that he already was one.
Her gaze softened, and she leaned forward, pulling her son into a hug. Dexter flinched, surprised. “M–Mom?”
“What you did was wrong, Dex,” she said firmly, pulling away. She held him by the shoulders, looking him in the eyes. He shrunk under her eyes, but listened as she continued. “Hurting people is wrong, you and I both know that.”
He shrank away, looking away. She smiled, soft and sad, adding, “But, I also know that you didn’t mean to hurt that boy. Despite what everyone else may say, I know that you, Dexter, are a good kid. You make mistakes, like everyone else does, and you learn from them.”
Dexter blinked at her, eyes wide behind his glasses. He hadn’t expected that. He had expected anger, disappointment, frustration. Not… not this. “What if… what if no one else sees it that way? ”
“Even if no one else sees the good in you, I always will. I’ll always love you, for all the flaws that you may have and the mistakes that you make. And I’ll always be there for you, Dex.”
He could feel his eyes watering but he didn’t want to cry. “Promise?”
Michelle smiled at him, soft and loving. “I promise.”
He couldn’t hold them back – Tears welled up in his eyes as his mother pulled him in close, as he buried his face in her shoulder and sobbed. They hugged each other tightly, just sitting there in the school parking lot, crying until his eyes were red and puffy. When they pulled away, he could see her eyes were shiny, even if she was smiling brightly.
“Alright, enough of the waterworks. We’ve cried enough for today. Wanna go get ice cream?”
He rubbed his eyes, shooting her a watery grin. “Heck yeah!”
~~~~
Dexter let out an angry hiss as he pressed a hand to the newly bandaged wound on his side. Shoulda gone to Patty, she was better at this than he was. “Fucking cultists… ”
He had been hanging out with his honorary nephews earlier, walking them around town along with Father Gregor when he had suddenly been called away. Apparently, there was an infestation somewhere away, just on the outskirts of town. Far from his usual route, but nothing too straining. He knew the kids would be safe with the priest, so he left them with promises to hang out later once he was done.
Except, he wasn’t able to do that.
The call was a trap. When he arrived, the house was empty and when he turned around, he was immediately stabbed in the side. Luckily, he reacted quickly, twisting the knife out of his side and returning the favor on the red-robed psycho that jumped him. He kicked the bastard for good measure, then ran like hell out of there back into his truck.
The guy had tried to follow him, more of them emerging from somewhere in the house, but ended up eating the cloud of dust he left behind. Now here he was, sitting in his mom’s bathroom, bandaging up his wounds. He was glad she was out of the house – She would have freaked out when she saw him.
It was weird though. Her appointments usually didn’t take this long…
Suddenly, there was a loud sharp knock, coming from the living room. He peered out of the bathroom door, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. It couldn’t have been his nephews – The last time they were over, Skid had an allergic reaction to all the cat fur. It couldn’t have been his mother either – It’s her house, she would have the keys.
Dexter decided to go check it out, getting up off of the stool. Cats hissed at him where he walked, but he ignored them. It wasn’t worth it to bother them. Then, he opened the door just a crack, peering out of it to see who was outside.
“Father Gregor?” he asked, a bit surprised, before opening up the door more. The priest looked like he had been through hell, with his leg clearly bitten and bloodied. “Father, what happened to you?”
The priest’s expression was grim. “It’s been a long night, Mr. Erotoph. And many terrible things have occurred tonight.”
Dexter was immediately concerned. “Did something happen to the kids?”
Father Gregor frowned, but shook his head. “No, the children are fine. This is… another matter, I’m afraid.”
The priest reached into his pocket, pulling out something with a golden chain. He looked on, confused, as the man offered it to him. Dexter took it, feeling something round in his hands, and looked down at it. His heart dropped.
It was his mother’s locket, the one that held a picture of him. He ran his thumb around the edge, popping open it just to confirm. Once he did, he looked up at the priest. “Wh-Where did you get this?”
Father Gregor inhaled, standing up straight. “I am sorry that I have to be the one to inform you, Mr. Erotoph. But your mother… was in an accident, at the hospital. One of the staff had been possessed by a demon and she hadn’t known.”
The Father was speaking still, but Dexter couldn’t hear him. He was staring back down at the locket, static filtering out the words, growing louder and louder–
“I–I need a moment,” he interrupted, voice cracking. He knew it was rude, but he just– just– “Please.”
Father Gregor seemed to understand, nodding his head. “My doors are always open for you, Dexter.”
The man limped away, and Dexter shut the door, leaning against it. Now alone, his thoughts rushed forward, flooding his mind. Drowning out everything else–
She’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone she’s never coming back you’ll never see her again she’s never going to come home she’s never going to be able to hold you again she’s dead–
“Even if no one else sees the good in you, I always will. I’ll always love you, for all the flaws that you may have and the mistakes that you make. And I’ll always be there for you, Dex.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Dexter let out a strangled sob, clutched the locket hard to his chest, and dropped down to his knees.
She was gone.
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iersei · 14 hours
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okay. let's talk about black terry jr.
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TL;DR: terry jr is black. that is something that should not be erased. regardless of your access to or willingness to search for the canon material that confirms this, you should not be depicting him as white. whitewashing terry by refusing to think of him as black creates an unsafe space for our black community members, and you should re-examine your personal biases if you choose to insist on continuing to see terry as white.
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terry jr is black. point-blank. and if terry jr is canonically black, then he should be depicted as such.
i will concede that it is something that you might not spot if you listen through the podcast casually. it's something that i didn't know was actually official in any capacity until recently. and i would like to note that i do not have and have never had access to the dndads patreon. i have not listened to any of the teen talks in full (even the ones released to the public. it's just not my jam.), and any information or spitballing contained within is something that i have either been told second-hand or am completely unaware of. i also didn't look at the official poster (the "everything is alright" poster) that depicted both terry jr and samantha as black.
but the fact of the matter remains that terry jr and samantha are black and have been acknowledged as such within the source material.
once again, i myself didn't seek this information out enough to know it was official canon. so then why have i always depicted them as black anyway?
well when i started engaging with the fandom, i saw what was being presented to me in the fandom was overwhelmingly that terry was indeed black or at least popularly interpreted to be black. and my first and only thought was that that was nice. so i decided to roll with it.
if i really wanted to check if that was canon and it being canon was important to me, i could always have asked around. i could've sought out information from official sources. because if they were black and i just missed it in some way, i would've wanted to check myself. especially because doing so would lead to whitewashing.
but i didn't feel the need to do that because i think that just the added racial diversity was really cool to see on its own.
for argument's sake, there is still the possibility that you'd think it is simply just popular fanon. let's say you chose to not check for yourself whether or not he was canonically black. or let's say that, for whatever reason, you think that what is available isn't enough to sufficiently deem him canonically black. so let's discuss why terry should still be depicted as black even if it was "just" fanon and there were no official artworks to go off of.
i am not of the opinion that fanon in general should be taken as gospel. in fact, there are quite a few things within dndads fanon itself that i personally disagree with and choose not to engage with. the reason why this interpretation in particular is a sore spot is the question of why, after seeing the popular portrayal and recognizing the ability to create racial diversity in a space where a good amount of appearances and identities can be up for interpretation, someone would still choose to depict him as white.
why do you choose to depict him as white? do you have any personal biases that make you think that he would or should be white? do you think that it is unimportant or inconsequential to not depict him as a person of color?
what would be so compelling about making him white that you would choose to go against this interpretation? why is it so important that you continue to see him as white?
who are you ignoring in the process?
i do not think it is deliberately malicious to initially think that terry jr is white. it is the unfortunate truth that white tends to be considered the default. but it begins to rub me the wrong way when anyone chooses to stick with that idea when presented with any evidence or argument to the contrary.
though i will admit that i am not black, i am still a person of color. and i think that creating a fandom space where we can highlight, create, and celebrate racial variety means creating a space where people of color feel safer. and because i would like to uplift the black fandom member who tried to voice their own personal take on this matter, i would like to link back to [this post from vivalapersistence] as the reason why i felt compelled to talk about this in the first place.
i don't want to talk over him, but i want to point out his statement that having this kind of solid representation is important and means something to him as a black person in this community. erasing terry as black means that you would be, intentionally or not, erasing and silencing black voices. it takes away that element of representation within the fandom and does real harm to the black people within when you decide that that representation isn't important. there are real racial connotations to the argument here, and it's frankly a little callous to pretend like there's not.
so maybe let's be nice to the BIPOC in our community spaces, okay?
and i want to make it clear right now. if you want to discuss what i say here, you can discuss this with me.
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heavyhitterheaux · 12 hours
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Church Girl, Don't Hurt Nobody Part 2 (Slight NSFW)
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Synopsis: The time has now come for you to confront your mother about your relationship with Jack. Your mind is already made up, and the last thing that you would ever do is ruin your happiness. It doesn't go as planned, and you are left with a lot to think about.
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Read Part 1 first
Requested by: so many of you lol so I had to run it back
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
You currently had both of your legs on your boyfriend's shoulders as his face was between your thighs with the sunlight peeking through the floor length windows.
This had been going on for close to a week since you were hiding out from your parents for as long as you could. You knew that you were going to have to face them sooner or later, but later was beginning to sound better and better. 
After Jack had found out from his friends the truth about you as well as your family, he was obviously upset, but could understand from your point of view why you did it once you had explained everything to him and had a few days to think about. He was lowkey still upset about it, but didn’t want to let you see it since now everything was out in the open and he knew your mind was on overdrive. He had lost track of how many times you had cried about it.
You were scared shitless of what was about to happen when you went home and was putting it off for as long as you could. Of course that night even though Jack was clearly upset with you, he wanted for you to stay with him. In the back of his mind, even though he initially said that he was probably going to break up with you because you lied to him, he quickly changed his mind after hearing your explanation and the bottom line was he didn't want to be without you.
Your phone had been going off nonstop since the picture was posted and you hadn’t answered anyone. You were actually surprised that not once did your mother call you and you knew that she was pissed. But at this point, should you even care what she thought about you? Your fate was sealed anyway.
After the picture was posted the two of you were sitting across from each other in silence. You knew he was mad at you and you were trying to create a plan in your head for the both of you to get through this with no harm done, but you were coming up short.
You were always so careful when going out at night and the one time you weren't, someone snapped a photo of you. 
Wanting to give your boyfriend some space (if he was still your boyfriend at that point for that matter since you didn't know) you didn’t even say anything and had gotten up to start making your way to the door but as you went to open it, you saw Jack's hand come from behind you to close it.
"Where are you going?" Jack asked from behind you and when you didn't answer him, he turned you around to face him with tears in your eyes and a trembling lip and knew they were about to fall down. 
"I… just… you're my escape and my peace from everything that goes on around me and it's just why can I never do anything for myself? Why can't I do what I want? I am 27 years old, still sneaking out of my parents house to see my boyfriend. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I should have been honest from the beginning and I'm sorry for that.”
"Dragging me into what? I don't regret asking you to be my girlfriend so don't you think that for a second."
He wanted to be with you for the long haul and this was just something that the two of you had to face together. He was going to do his best to protect you to the best of his ability from the world and also your parents.
“Talk to me in a week and we'll see if you feel the same way.”
“The way I feel about you isn't going to go away in a week so I know that my answer is going to be the same.”
“I don't even know where to begin to fix this.”
“Let me ask you this. What exactly needs to be fixed? We're together like we want to be aren’t we? So what's the problem? You know that they already don't approve so fuck it.”
"Damn, baby it's like Niagara Falls down here." Jack said as he looked down at his fingers.
"You want a side of eggs with that?"
"HUH?"
"Pussy juice, side of eggs, that's my breakfast." You said while repeating Jack's lyrics to him and giggling. 
All Jack did was smirk and laugh at you.
"Nah, I don't need the eggs. This is enough to get me full." Jack said as he grabbed your legs to pull you towards the end of the bed and you let out a yelp.
Jack then leaned down to kiss you and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer to give him several more. When he finally pulled away, he began to place kisses all over your face making you laugh.
Next thing you knew, you felt him slide into you and you immediately gasped since you had been caught off guard.
He was going at a slow, even pace taking his time to give you as much pleasure as possible to take your mind off of everything going on around you.
You then wrapped your left leg around him wanting for him to get as deep as he possibly could. 
You were now laying on Jack's chest as his arm was wrapped around you in a comfortable silence and Jack was the one to break it. 
"Baby, as much as I want to, we can't hide out in my condo forever. I have to promote this album and I've already done what I could to push it back for a week to make sure you were okay.”
"I know and I appreciate you for doing that for me because you definitely didn't have to. I'm not okay in the slightest, but I know that I just have to deal.”
"I would do anything for you. You know that. And I'm going to make sure you get to the point where you are okay." Jack replied as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
"I just… don't want to face them. My mother more than anyone else."
"I don't like how she has it where you're actually scared of her." 
“I… it's not the fact that I'm scared of her. I just know that no matter how perfect I try to be, that it will never please her and that I'm always going to fall short. All of my siblings don't care for me either except my big sister Eden. Because I'm the only one that will somewhat challenge my parents. It's always been this way.”
“Just know that I only want the best for you and want you to be happy. You deserve that and not be stressed out all the time over what someone else might think about you.”
“I know.” You quietly answered, but your mind was still running a mile a minute.
“You think that you'll be okay when I leave later tonight? I'd rather you come with me. I just don't want to leave you here with them.”
“I don't really have a choice. I have to face them sooner or later. Even if I don't want to.”
“Look if anything happens, anything at all. Say the word and I'll come and get you.” Jack said as he moved a curl out of your face and lightly kissed your nose.
“You're going to be busy and the last thing I want to be is a distraction.”
“Baby, I can promise that you won't be. I would rather have you with me instead of people who upset you on a daily basis. Because how is that a good thing? You don't need to be in that type of environment.” Jack replied as he started playing with the bracelet that graced your wrist that he gifted you.
“She's probably never going to let me sing again.” You quietly said as you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.
“Why do you need her permission to do it? Just because she might not want you to sing there, doesn't mean you have to stop altogether. Still not over how amazing your voice is and how well you hid that from me.”
“Trust me, it wasn't easy.” You said while laughing.
“No more secrets. Promise?”
“Promise.”
After you had helped Jack pack all of his things and the two of you decided to have a quick dinner together, it was time for you to make your way back home as much as you didn't want to while Jack was set to go to New York.
He had given you several kisses, but you were still holding onto him for dear life not wanting to let him go just yet. 
“You know you can come with me. The offer still stands. Because now you are definitely stalling.” He said while looking down at you. Jack knew your mind was made up, but he didn't want you going back there at all. If your mom is as bad as you had told him, he wanted to keep you far away from her. 
“As much as I want to, I have to do this. I don't want to drag it out longer.”
“Tell me when you get there and what happens when you two talk. I just have a strong feeling that you are about to call me in tears and that is the last thing that I want. If I have to protect you from your own family, then so be it.”
“It might go better than we think.” You said trying to reassure him.
“Babe, are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“Hmm, maybe both? But I promise to call if something happens.”
Wearing one of Jack's hoodies and a pair of your black leggings, it was around 10 at night once you had slipped through the entrance to your part of the house. 
Once in your bedroom, you turned on the light to see your big sister Eden once again staring at you.
“For future reference, if you are trying to hide out with your boyfriend, turn off your location. Even though you only share it with me.”
“You have got to stop sneaking up on me, Eden!”
“Not a chance. I let you have your fun but now I'm about to yell but this is only out of love and concern.”
You simply nodded as you took a seat next to her on your bed.
“Now you know you can tell me anything and I will never hold it against you. Being in this family is hard enough and you are my baby sister. If you would have come to me, I would have helped you to tell them.”
“I… so many times I wanted to. But I was just scared. He's really important to me and I didn't want anyone or anything to ruin it. Not that I think you would, but everyone else. What did they say when they found out?”
“That was the first time I actually heard your mother cuss if that explains anything. And she was on Google looking him up for about two hours.”  Eden replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.
“And dad?”
“He simply shrugged and said if she's happy, then I'm fine with it.”
“I figured that he would be the one to say that.”
“And she was also upset that you have been M.I.A. obviously.”
“Why does she need to know my every move? She needs to get over herself.”
“You let me know when that happens. Anyway, tell me EVERYTHING. He's really cute and I'm definitely not surprised you two are together. A good match if I do say so myself.”
“Well we met at Taylor's birthday party a while ago and we've been talking ever since. It was only recently that he asked me to be his girlfriend. I've already met his parents and his brother and I absolutely adore them. His friends I only met at the album release party, but so far so good. He's funny, sweet, caring, always putting my feelings into consideration and I just love being around him. I know that you and dad would like him. I really don't care about anyone else.”
“And you shouldn't. He makes you happy and that's the important part and all that matters. As long as he is treating you right, we won't have a problem. Now did you even tell him about…?”
“No, he didn't know and I believe his friends told him and explained it to him which he was mad about and I can understand that. I wasn't honest and I should have been. He forgave me and we're just moving forward. I told him everything including how I know she hates me.”
“I can only imagine the look on his face. And I don't think she hates you. She hates that she can't control you.”
“Yeah, and then the picture didn't help.”
“Did anyone else know about you two? Perhaps, Tania?” Eden asked while eyeing you.
“Yes and she was sworn to secrecy. Just her and no one else.”
“Soooo, when can I meet him?”
“Well he's going to be busy promoting his album, but I'm sure if I bring it up he'll make time for it. I talk to him about you all the time.”
“I don't think I've ever seen you this happy and I hope the two of you stay together for the long haul.”
As Jack was sitting on the plane and playing with his phone, Urban came and sat next to him and simply eyed him.
“Uh, Urb? Can I help you?” Jack asked as he laughed. 
“Are you and Y/N okay? Did she talk to her parents yet?”
“We're fine but not yet. She said she would tell me when it happened. I already told her that I feel like she's going to call me in tears. I wanted her to come with me but she said that she just wanted to get it over with.”
“I hope she'll be okay. It seems like she's never been able to do what she wants.”
“She hasn't. But Neelam told us both not to say anything about it for now hoping that it would eventually blow over. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her in Louisville, but her mind was made up.”
“If her mother is as bad as she claims her to be, I know that this conversation that they are supposed to have is not going to go over well.”
“I'm literally just waiting for her to call me.”
“I wonder what they'll even say to her, I mean she's a whole adult.”
“And from the way that she talks about her, that clearly doesn't matter. She still looks at her like she's a little kid and it doesn't help that she's the youngest either.” Jack replied while shaking his head.
“I know she means a lot to you from the way that you talk about her.”
“She does, I'm just trying to let her see that it's okay to do what makes you happy and to not care what anyone else thinks about it.”
You and Eden hid out in your room until the next morning when you figured that it was time to face her. After taking a shower, you slipped on a yellow sundress along with white wedge sandals and straightened your hair. It was time for breakfast, so you started making your way towards the dining room. 
Once you entered the room, all eyes were on you as you took your respective seat in between Eden and Grace. Eden sent you a soft smile while Grace rolled her eyes at you. Matthew and Malachi simply exchanged glances with each other along with their spouses as your mother was burning a hole into you with her gaze. Your dad was simply reading his morning paper as he always did and sent you a small smile. You knew when it came down to it, the only people that you could truly count on in your family was your dad and Eden.
As the breakfast spread was placed on the table, your mother was the first to speak.
“Y/N, you have some nerve showing back up here like you didn't do anything.”
“I haven't done anything wrong and the last time I checked, I lived here.” You responded while piling your plate high with eggs, hash browns, and fruit.
“You call a night on the town with a well known rapper nothing? Where people saw the two of you together?”
“Adalaide….” Your father said to your mother in a warning tone, but she simply brushed him off.
“When you leave this house, you are representing this family, and so far this week, you have been nothing but an embarrassment.”
“That's your opinion and you're entitled to it. I am a grown woman who can do anything she wants and I don't need your approval. I have been under your thumb since the day I was born and have been in control of how I dress, who I talk to, my hair, my makeup, and my career path. It's time that I take control of my life without having you criticizing me.”
"No daughter of mine is going to serve the Lord and then be spreading her legs wide open for her rapper boyfriend. And don't even lie and say that you haven't. You look like the type to give it up to any man who ever glanced your way. And of course you think he loves you because he's told you exactly what you want to hear!" 
“MOM!” Eden exclaimed while looking at her in disbelief but all she did was take a sip of her tea.
"You don't even know him!"
"I know enough and I don't care to have you in my sight any longer. It's clear that you have chosen him over your family. So do me a favor and get out. Leave your house key on the table in the foyer. If he loves you so much as you claim he does, go live with him. And I for damn sure better not see you at my church singing for the Lord on Sunday."
“Adalaide, that's enough! If that's who she loves, who are we to stop it? We want all of our children happy and he obviously makes her happy." Your dad said while shaking his head at her.
“Then she can go and be happy with him and not be under my roof taking up space.”
“Now that's taking it a little too far.” You heard Grace say which you were surprised by.
“She's literally not hurting anyone and always did what you wanted her to do. Why are you ruining the one thing she's done for herself?” Your oldest brother Malachi asked and she rolled her eyes.
“What I said still stands. I want her out and if all of you have a problem with it, you can go and follow her. You better be out of my house by midnight and don't bother showing your face here or at church ever again. As far as I'm concerned, I only have two daughters now.”
A collective gasp was heard at the table, and all you could do was laugh to yourself before saying anything.
“Y/N, don't you get up from this table. You are a part of this family as much as anyone else.”
“It's okay, dad. Trust me, it is. I know how she feels about me.”
“This is entirely uncalled for.” Matthew said while looking at your mother who waa unfazed. You simply turned towards her before speaking.
“Keep in mind what you just told me and don't you dare crawl back to me later and try to apologize. If you want me out, fine. The next time I see you will be at your fucking funeral and not a moment sooner. I'll prove to you that I never needed someone like you in my life to begin with.”
“Y/N!” Grace called after you as you pushed yourself away from the table and made your way into the direction of your room.
You held your head high and was determined not to let the tears fall. You finally stood up to her and didn't regret saying what was on your mind.
Grabbing your phone, you facetimed Jack who immediately answered and could tell that something was wrong from the look on your face.
“Baby….”
“She literally just disowned me.”
47 notes · View notes
puffleyia · 2 days
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Dear Diary || Cedric Diggory
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Cedric Diggory x fem!reader || 5.2k words, fluff-ish, banter and awkward confessions !
Reader and Ced are both seventh years and Ced is head boy!
Warnings: slow and sappy smut, unprotected p-in-v, clothed sex , first times !!!
Summary: Cedric finds your diary, what's the worst that could happen?
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Cedric was idly perusing the shelves of the library on one fine afternoon, if the wads of homework given and expected to be completed by the end of the Easter holidays were not taken into account. He sought for some books that he could use as reference for his essay in History of Magic, a particularly tricky one, on famous and historical duels.
Though, his initial intentions were long forgotten as he noticed something. His attention was drawn to a small, forgotten notebook left on one of the study tables. He looked around to see if any sign of the owner was around. Once the coast was clear, he took it as a go-signal. Carefully, he picked it up with curiosity as he examined the notebook.
The cover was brown, its material being that of leather. It had a few tears, but it looked okay enough to be passed as a choice of style. It is decorated with intricate golden patterns on it, engraved with small jewels for design. The bottom was labelled with your name handwritten on, and the pages seemed to be slightly tarnished. He assumed you had kept it for a couple years or so. 
But what was most intriguing was that it had been padlocked shut. He figured out that it was no ordinary notebook, probably a diary of sorts, piquing his interest.
As much as he knows not to stick his nose in things he is not supposed to, he couldn’t help but feel interested in what was not supposed to be of his concern. He was not going to tell anyone what’s inside, nor was he going to judge— it is not like you would know either if he did look through it. 
But, he supposed a little peak would not hurt, right? He is going to give it back the next time he sees you, anyway. 
Though, it was locked… It is nothing a simple alohomora charm could not fix. He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the lock. He gave it a flick, chanting the spell out quietly. The padlock fell on the floor with a dull thud. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket, to seal it up afterwards to conceal any trace of him ever snooping around.
He flipped through the pages, becoming increasingly fascinated with what he read, some even dating back to seven years. Family issues, random stuff about life at Hogwarts, such as rants about homework, housemates and whatnot. The first thirty pages was about you mainly figuring out things back then as a first year, and a bunch of things you were astonished to discover. 
It was really what your typical teenage girl would write; little things such as that cat you tried to pet in the first year that turned out to be Professor McGonagall, hallway crushes, that time you snuck in the restricted area of the library, so on— and the mundaneness of everyday life. It was pretty much a bunch of stuff about what goes on during your days. 
When he got to the fourth year, he started seeing his name being brought up occasionally— he of course, stopped on those pages to read them— interested in what your perspective on him was. He started with the first page mentioning him:
DEAR DIARY,
I met this guy named Cedric Diggory. He’s popular, tall and good-looking too.. 
He helped me out with my herbology homework. I was really struggling, good thing he stepped in. Though, maybe I was too busy staring at him to really pay attention to what he was teaching me. (Well, who can blame me???)
I know so many girls who would kill to have that happen to them. Wonder what got me so lucky today, maybe those Lumos Lucksweets I ate last night that I got from Honeydukes during Halloween.
I always thought he was cute, though I always felt too intimidated to approach him. Hopefully we can become friends. 
He felt a bit surprised, a faint blush tainting his cheeks as he smiled softly. He would be oblivious if he didn’t know he was sought after by both women and men, albeit it still doesn’t make him any less flustered.  You were one of his friends, yes, but he had never stopped to think that you thought of him in that way. You didn’t make it obvious either.
He mostly skimmed through its pages, but stopped to read whenever he saw his name brought up– about how you talked about each of your interactions; “Cedric helped me with…” “Cedric and I went out to…” “I think I like him..” Cedric this, Cedric that. 
You like him. Or liked him. It only clicked with him now, though he would have to keep reading if he wanted to know if you still felt the same. (Because he definitely did.) Be that as it may, he still definitely had no idea on how to confess. Plus, it was too late to turn back any time now. He continued to leaf through its contents.
But it was not until he got to last year’s pages that some things really stuck out. At first it was about wanting to kiss him on the cheek as you sat beside him in the library whilst you two studied for your transfiguration exam. Then the next time you talked about it being on the lips. 
You even went into detail how you thought his lips would feel, then it was about how you so badly wanted to make out with him after you watched him after his quidditch practice because in your words, not his–
He looked so hot.
The more he read through, the material written within progressively escalated. Soon, it was about how you felt guilty by using the thought of him as a means to get off. 
Now I feel guilty. Yes, I know– it is wrong of me to finger myself at the thought of my really really really hot friend who I also happen to have a crush on, no I’m not being sarcastic, yes, it was just once. Just this ONCE, I got carried away… Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, Cedric.
He actually found it quite adorable how you were apologising in a diary. He was also extremely flustered at this point, a little bit horny and at the same time, confused. He nonetheless continued, reading several entries about how you admitted to having several fantasies of you being fucked by Cedric, what you think he would be like in bed, yada yada yada. 
You admit throughout several logs that what was supposed to be a one-time thing, turned into nightly endeavours filled with a big ounce of shame afterwards. 
Once he felt content, he got the padlock and clicked it back in place as if nothing ever happened, and took it with him as he went on his way. He figured it was best that he give it back the next time he ran into you. 
Aside from that, his day passed by quite like any ordinary one, though he hadn’t seen you at all. On his way down to the Great Hall, he caught a glimpse of you walking whilst talking to some of your friends– though you quickly disappeared into the crowd of students flocking towards the hall for dinner.
Afterwards, most students are headed towards the library or their respective common rooms, Cedric ought to do the same. 
Meanwhile you were searching every nook and cranny of everywhere you had been within the entire day, searching for that damned diary since the afternoon. You had traced back your steps to the beginning of the day, starting off with the common rooms, the great hall, then you had snuck into the several classrooms you were in earlier. In the potions dungeon, you were almost caught by Snape, you hid in time (you pride yourself on being an absolute pro at hide and seek) and just by the skin of your teeth.
You would stop at nothing until you actually find it, the thought of someone else getting your diary sends shivers down your spine. You just hope if someone did, they’d have enough of a sense of privacy and decency not to look through it. If this keeps up, You would have to be looking throughout the entire night and without being caught at that. 
You doubt any of the staff would actually care about finding it if you had simply asked. You had tried that once when you lost one of your textbooks, you managed to find it, no thanks to anyone but yourself.  And you would think if you would ask any of your professors, they’d probably say (the textbook) was miles more important than some journal with sentimental value.
Before you knew it, you were definitely up past curfew hours. Currently in the library, you were looking everywhere– on and under each of the chairs and tables, the shelves, you were seriously considering going to check the restricted section if you were not able to find it here. Perhaps the librarian thought it was a book, too. You froze in your place as you heard footsteps other than yours echoing as someone entered the library.
Cedric was doing his rounds and surprisingly, tonight was not that half-bad. No pesky students loitering around, so far that is. Currently surveying the corridors, classrooms– he is now heading towards the library, hearing faint shuffling noises coming from the sound of it. So it was not a quiet night after all, he thought. He placed his bets on who he thought it was this time, and the lot of students who regularly snuck out was not much to choose from anyway.
Though, he was completely wrong this time. It was you. He flashes you a grin, nearly forgetting his duties as Head Boy to supposedly escort you back to your dorm since it was late hour. He could also give your diary back while he was at it, he was getting tired of having to cling on to it just at the chance he would run into you. But he had thought to strike up a conversation first, because why not?
“Hey,” Cedric greeted you, approaching you slowly. “Hi,” you gulped and said awkwardly. You interrupt him before he could even say a word, “I-I know what this looks like,” you stammer, figuring out the right words to say as you try reasoning with him. “It sounds like a ridiculous thing to ask of you, I know– but don’t tell anyone,” as you speak, you’re also in plenty of disbelief that the literal head boy of all people would give you leeway for sneaking out like thi. Even if he is your friend, and even if it were just once.
“And why shouldn’t I?” He said so casually, as if you two were having a normal conversation; as if he were not on patrol at all and he hadn’t caught you outside your dormitory past the given curfew. He also knew damn well why, it was just fun eliciting a reaction from you. He was of course going to eventually give it back. “It’s so late, you should at least be in your common room around this time, you know?” He points out as well.
“Well, for one, I’ve been a good student this year, this is the only time I snuck out.. And, I have a reason for sneaking out–! It’s not for anything bad, I promise, it’s just I’ve been looking for my damn diary the entire day.. I must’ve lost it somewhere– look, I swear I’ll go back to the dorms right now if you please, please, don’t tell me out to anybody.” 
You begged him, clasping your hands together for dramatic effect as you gave him those puppy eyes you use whenever you wanted something from him. (Such as when you begged him to buy whatever you wanted when you two went to Zonko’s that one time. P.S. It worked.)
“You mean this thing?” he said slyly. As he pulled out your diary, he gave a look of mischievousness. He watched as your eyebrows raise up, a look of relief plastered on your face as you sigh. You walk towards him, extending out your arms as you make grabby hands. “Oh, yes! Yes, that’s the one, now if you could just give it back–” then, that’s when you get cut off. 
“Ah, ah, now wait just a moment,” he said, raising the arm with your diary in his hand so you couldn’t reach it. “I’ll let you off, and I’ll give it back if,” taking a deep breath before he spoke again, wondering if he should really be doing this. It was now or never. “You give me a kiss.”
He found it really amusing as a blush formed on your face, completely flustered as your eyes widened in a look with a mix of shock and disbelief. You had stopped grabbing for your diary, as you opened your mouth to say something, but you were rendered completely speechless. Was this just a dream? Surely it was, it was too good to be true…
“Ha, ha. Very funny, Cedric,” you fake-laugh, your tone being fully sarcastic. Seeing if he is just playing around with you. “No way in hell I would,” you add, just in case he really was joking. (Maybe you have slight trust issues.) “Just give it back.” Despite that, he looked dead serious. He stared you down, not breaking eye contact, making you gulp nervously. “Please?”
“Oh, come on,” he says as his voice drops, sounding more sultry. “I’m not gonna do anything unless you let me, but I know you want to.” His eyes observe your lips. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t touch you at all since you hadn’t given your consent yet. He kept his hands to himself, letting his body language do the talking. 
“Now what makes you say that?” You squint your eyes as you give a questioning look at him, acting, or trying to at least, unaffected. You still had your guard up, because seriously, what was up with this guy today? 
“Now, why’re you acting like you don’t want it? Hmm?” He smirked, “Could make all those fantasies of yours in that little book come true, you know.”
You looked mortified, as if you had seen a ghost. The last bits of your dignity withered away, long gone at this point. You wanted to shrivel up and sob in a corner out of pure humiliation. He read your diary. “No way, you read it!?” You slap his arm as you cover your face in sheer embarrassment. “Privacy exists, you know–!” Cedric let out a guttural laugh, unable consistently to keep up his flirty demeanour. “Hey, better me than anyone else, right? Besides,” he leaned on one of the bookshelves.
“I like you.”
If you thought you couldn’t get any redder, you were awfully wrong. You didn’t know what to say, as you practically threw yourself at him in an embrace. “I like you too…” you said, your voice muffled as your face was buried in his chest. “This is so embarrassing.”
He wasted no time in hugging you back, his arms wrapped around you. It was like you put on a warm blanket. You two stayed like that for a while, enjoying eachothers company. The moment of silence was interrupted as he said, “I should probably ask properly.” You look up at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He finally says.
“What do you think?” A rhetorical question.
“I need a yes or no, not a ‘what do you think’.”
“If you actually read my diary, you already have your answer.”
“Well then, it’s official,” he smiles. “Can I get that kiss now?” He says impatiently. You waste no time, tipping on your toes as you press your lips against his, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He wraps his hands around your waist, pushing you softly against a bookcase. It was chaste and passionate, as your lips intertwined as you two kissed in a slow rhythm. 
You pull away, catching your breath. “By the way, this doesn’t mean I forgive you for reading my diary,” you blurt out, Cedric chuckling at that.
Before you knew it, he was grabbing your wrist and leading you to his dorm room. It was clear to the both of you where this situation was going. As you walked together, your heart raced in anticipation, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooded your senses. You both stopped in your tracks as you reached a portrait, that of Helena Ravenclaw’s. He mumbled the password and the portrait swung open, walking in whilst ducking his head over the small entrance and motioning you to come in as well. 
You assumed this was the heads’ common room, it was circular and decorated quite lavishly. If it were not for Cedric, you would have taken more time to admire the interior. It was definitely plenty grand compared to the regular ones. Though, you quickly were grounded back into the situation as he led you to his dorm– Head Boy’s–completely away from prying eyes. Oh, bless Cedric for being head boy and whoever decided that heads should have their own room. 
He slams the door shut behind you two, pinning you to it. Tension flooded the room, it was practically suffocating. He wastes no time, cupping your chin as he tilts your head slightly upward to make you look at him. He leaned in for a second kiss, your lips puzzle together once more. His hand interlocked with yours tightly as he held it up against the door panel, keeping you in place. 
It was not as innocent as it was the first time, in fact quite the opposite– amorous. It was far from perfect, given both of you were not experienced. All your knowledge came from things such as muggle films, you think.
You remembered how they opened their mouths slightly, imitating what you saw in fiction. You slowly gaped open your mouth, Cedric immediately getting the hint as he slid his tongue inside. You both attempted to swirl each other's tongues together, yet it was more clashing your tongues together with no rhythm whatsoever, in hoping something just works. Though it didn't make it any less hot, if anything, it was more.
It was awfully sappier than one would might like, but you two were both (not-so hopeless anymore) romantics. Perhaps it was the entire three years of obliviousness and pining for each other being poured into this moment. Though, given what you two are about to do, it is a bit fast for an official relationship. Well, yeah, as much as you just got together.. You both couldn’t help it nor wait anymore, not wanting to waste any more time, not after so many years with your feelings going unsaid. 
He took heavier breaths, grabbing ahold of your waist as he pressed himself closer against you. You both flushed, a bit embarrassed and nervousness surging through your veins as you gasped when his half-chubbed dick pressed against just above your groin. You couldn’t deny– you felt scared, a bit hesitant but you knew you wanted this more than anything. 
While you still kissed, you both toed off your shoes and made a beeline for the bed (a sad attempt). Because your senses of navigation clearly dwindled, not a care in the world but each other. You two accidentally bumped into one of the small tables, knocking down some of the books that lay on them. “Oops,” Cedric said lightheartedly. Pulling the both of you out of the moment momentarily, you two laughed and just chalked it up to fixing it later.
Finally reaching the four-poster (which was a lot bigger than the regular ones), even if it were a few feet away from where you two initially were, it was quite the journey. Cedric, who was the one leading out of the two of you, practically tripped you both into bed as he rested atop you. “Ced!” You squealed, “you’re crushing me!” light-heartedly, you say, as you jab at his chest playfully, in an attempt to push him off. 
“Well..not my problem, princess,” he laughed as he buried his face into your neck. Sucking and nipping at the flesh, leaving red marks on you as he placed a kiss on each one to seal them afterwards. “May I…?” He says, his hand trailing up to grab onto the hem of your tie, ready to pull it off. You give him a small, silent nod. He takes his time with you, as if he were unwrapping a huge present. 
He begins by pulling off your tie, discarding the article of clothing to a random corner of the room. The same goes for your robes, sweater, dress shirt…all long gone and forgotten. You were merely left with your undergarments and skirt on, as well as your socks. He stops dead in his tracks, taking a step back as he takes the sight of you in.
“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are.” He says each word clear as day– you’ve never heard anyone more confident in your life. You blush profusely, hands covering your face to conceal it. “I’ll die from those compliments before you actually start doing anything, you know?” You babble, too florid to think of words to form. 
He trails his hand, leading it down to your underwear, tugging down at the hem of it as to pull them off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, though not a hint of apology in his voice. You mutter something about him not being forgiven, ouch, so now he has two things he is yet to be forgiven for. He just smiles innocently back at you, lips all pouty as you pretend to sulk about it. (Obviously jokingly) When in fact, you wallow in the praise.
He leans into your ear as his hands now teasing at your folds, you let out a soft moan at his touch. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, huh?” He says in a low, gravelly voice. Which had absolutely no right to sound that hot. “Please, Ced,” you say, trying not to sound like you were begging for it. “Wait,” he stops, getting up and begins to rummage through his drawer, looking for something. You look at him quizzically, wondering what he is doing and looking slightly disappointed at the loss of sensation.
After a few more seconds, he pulls out a small vial of a clear flaxen liquid and examines it before walking back to you. “Um, I’m really sorry, d’you think this’ll do?” He shows you the vial, which you had assumed to be a natural oil of sorts. “I, er, don’t have any lube.” He says awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to–” You cut him off immediately, quickly divulging that, “No, no, we– we can. I’m fine with it.” Okay, you definitely sounded a bit desperate. He nods, uncorking the vial as he coats his fingers with a fair amount.
“I’ve never done this before,” he says, prodding two fingers at your pussy. “Just– just tell me if it hurts, okay? Tap my shoulder two times if you can’t speak.” You nod, and with that, he eases in slowly his fingers, your breath hitching as you feel his fingers slip inside you. It feels uncomfortable, causing you to shift in your position slightly. Cedric quickly stops inching his fingers inside as he asks if you’re okay. You tell him that you’re fine and to keep going, assuring yourself and him that it is normal. Hopefully you’ll get used to the feeling. 
He continues, eventually now fully inside you. “Let me know when, um, I can move them, okay?” He says caringly, not an inch of attention wavering away from you. After a bit, you give him the go-signal to move and he starts dragging his fingers out of you, albeit slowly, and pushing them back inside. He watches you attentively, carefully studying your expressions, your body language– His erection was straining against his pants at this point, begging to be freed, but of course he wanted to make sure you were thoroughly prepared. 
“Ah, Ced, mhh, maybe if you curl your fingers a–ah bit–” you moan, still feeling a slight discomfort and pain, though pleasure slowly seeps through. “Like this?” He says, as he curls his fingers inside you, moving in and out with languid strokes. You let out a particular wince, though you nodded in approval. “Yes, just like that– ah,”
It was not anything you were not used to, though you always felt guilty whenever you did such things to yourself. Especially if your only barrier to privacy is the curtains on your four-poster. Though it took a bit of adjusting, because Cedric’s fingers were no doubt bigger than yours. You feel your stomach curling, the feeling of release catching on to you. Cedric must have had a sixth sense, or really good observational skills (perhaps all that astronomy paid off.) because he pulled his fingers out of you the moment you were about to. You whine instinctively in response.
Before you knew it, he was getting rid of his sweater, taking off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, tossing the apparel in the same corner where your clothes went, though leaving his unbuttoned shirt on. You watched his every movement intently, feeling yourself getting wet at the sight of him undressing. He is tall, lean, and burly– has a good build from all that quidditch. Amen for that. 
Your eyes begin to linger down to his trousers, and a very obvious bulge that you can’t help but stare at. He continues by unzipping his fly, though not pulling down his pants. He tugged at his grey boxers just enough to release his cock from its confines, coating it with a light layer of the oil he had used earlier. You could not help but stare, your pupils dilated, clouding your eyes darkly with arousal. He crawls in between your legs as he now hovers atop you. He aligned his cock, tip pressing into the folds of your pussy. 
“M’nervous,” you mumble, almost nonsensically, though Cedric understood what you had tried to say. He leans in, placing a kiss on your forehead as he gently caresses your cheek, “If you’re feeling pressured, we don’t have to, y’know. We can just… Stop here, we can continue another time if you’d like, when you’re ready.” He says softly, warmth naturally oozing through his voice like honey, sweet and assuring. 
“No,” you say, quiet but firmly. “I want to.” 
“Then we will, just tell me when you’re ready. I’ll be gentle.” He says, and his words make all your worries slowly ebb away. You feel safe with Cedric. You press your hips down onto his dick ever so slightly, letting the tip slide in. You gasp at the foreign feeling, nervous to fully take it all in. He notices, and as well lets out a soft moan, asking if he has permission to continue. You breathily say a yes, and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to push inside you.
It feels completely new, slightly painful with a twinge of pleasure. You shut your eyes, wincing at the sensation. Cedric examines your expressions as he inches in, checking for any signs of discomfort. He stops for a moment to ask if you’re okay, noticing your brows knitting together with your eyes shut. You assure him you’re fine, and tell him to keep going.
Eventually, he bottoms out inside you, though he doesn’t move immediately. You two just sit there for a good minute or two, kissing softly as your lips move in unison. Pulling away, panting as you say, “m-move, please,”
And who is Cedric to deny you of that? He began moving his hips slowly and shallowly, not wanting you to take too much at once. You also started getting a bit used to the feeling, though it was still mostly new to you. It didn’t feel as painful as it did, moaning in pleasure as he moved his hips. 
He then pulled out his cock, teasing you, and easing back in steadily, causing you to moan wantonly out loud. His thrusts still slow, but begin to get deeper as he holds your legs open. He was vocal too, nothing short of chanting your name and praising you in a gravelly voice, groaning and grunting ruggedly as he fucked his cock far into you. 
“You’re such a good girl f’me,” he pants, both of you moaning as he rocked his dick back into you with a particularly deep thrust. While the discomfort still remained, you grew more accustomed to the feeling of gratification that grew increasingly.“Ha– ah, harder, Ced,” you say, gasping in between your words. He did nothing shy of it, but not anything that he felt like would be too much for you.
“Merlin, y’feel so good,” he says huskily, moving his hips rhythmically slow, hard and deep as you’re reduced into a moaning mess. Your arms flail to the side of your head, grasping on the sheets as you arch your back. You were mumbling nonsensically, and Cedric laughed breathily as he told you how cute you were. He could only barely make out what seemed to be an I love you. “I love you too, princess,” he groans as he leans in and leaves a few more marks on your collarbone and neck.
You splay your hands onto his back. Digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks of your own though unintentionally. You drag your nails down his broad back, grabbing onto him as he knocks the wind out of you with each thrust.
You feel a fire pooling low in your abdomen, as well as the heightening sense of arousal as Cedric kept thrusting inside you. You feel your pussy tighten around him, “Mmh, Ced, I think I’m gonna–!” You squeal, Cedric grabs your hips and quickened his pace by a bit. “Go on, sweetheart.” He says low, letting his breath into your ear, moving down to kiss your neck. Reaching your limit, you feel your orgasm ripple through you.
Cedric kept going, though you could tell he was close, too– his thrusts growing sloppy as the echo of skin to skin and moans  from the both of you filled the room. His hips jerked a few more times as he finally sheathed fully and deep into you, as you two let out a long, drawn out moan as he was spilling his load inside your pussy. 
Clenching around his cock greedily, it’s as if you were going to wring him dry. You feel the way his cock pulses as he cums in you, a white ring pooling around the base of his cock with your mixed juices as it trickles down your folds. 
He collapses atop you, letting his head rest between your breasts as he’s still inside you. You two lay like that for a while, basking in the silence of the afterglow. You suddenly interrupt as you say, “Okay, maybe I forgive you..” 
He smiles and scoffs at that. Eventually, he pulls out and lays beside you, cuddling you from behind as you two exchange ‘I love you’s’ as you two drift off into sleep.
28 notes · View notes
irkimatsu · 3 days
Note
Idk if you ever thought about this but how would Husk react if his S/O was super self-conscious about their body? Whether thinking they’re way too skinny or way too fat. I feel like you, as the Husk professional, would know how to answer this because I am the exact opposite of a Husk professional. Much better with Angel Dust tbh.
Oh, trust me, as a certified fatass I have thought about this constantly. How would Husk feel about body types that aren't traditionally attractive?
Thankfully for me, my immediate instinct is that he doesn't care so much - sure, he has some physical preferences, but personality wins over everything else. It's part of why he's not swayed by Angel's initial flirting, I feel. He acknowledges that Angel is physically attractive, but the tryhard flirting was way too much of a turnoff. Conversely, even if he's not immediately drawn to someone's physical appearance, getting to know someone on a deeply personal level will attract him far harder than initial appearance ever could.
Not to say he doesn't see anything attractive in those non-traditional body types, of course. I do headcanon him as liking some squish on a partner for my own personal enjoyment, after all. Especially in the ass department. Husk hates to see you go but he loves watching you leave.
As for self-consciousness... trust me, he knows self-consciousness. I can go with him either being too skinny or overweight; either body type is the result of his awful self-care, especially ever since he lost the bet with Alastor. He drinks too much alcohol, he doesn't eat enough, and what he does eat has no nutritional value whatsoever. Any physical stamina he still has is bolstered by his innate demon powers; his muscles have all atrophied by now. But at the same time, we already know how Husk feels about wallowing alone in self-pity.
"You're not the only one down here who hates their body. Look at what I've done with mine! I got a second body after I destroyed my living one, and now I've gone and fucked this one up too. Maybe your choices led to how you look now, or maybe you just got saddled with a shitty form down here... but either way, hating yourself for it isn't going to get you anywhere. Who even benefits from your self-pity, anyway? Predatory jackasses who wanna sell you shit with the promise that it'll change you?
...I hope you don't feel like you need to change your body just for me. I like ya just the way you are. Love at first sight ain't my style anymore, but after I got to know you... just knowing who you are makes you the most beautiful person I've ever seen, both up there and down here. And besides, I've shown you exactly how I feel about my favorite parts of you plenty of times, haven't I, baby? Maybe I should remind you some more later tonight...?
If you wanna change, I'll support you. I know change is hard - fuck I know it's hard - but I'll be here for you through all of it. You just need to promise me that you're not doing it because you think you're not good enough for me already. And you also have to promise me that you're not going to go buying some shady instant cure potions from the first scumbag you see on TV! You can't trust any of 'em!"
(Thanks for considering me a Husk professional, by the way! I try my best! <3 In turn, thank you for your service with Angel Dust! I try my best by him but I'm always terrified I'll fuck it up... he deserves the best writing I can give him, but I know there's aspects of his life I'll never fully understand and I should be fucking grateful that I don't...)
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hwangism143 · 4 hours
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dim lights (work nights)
synopsis: work party. seungmin is a suit. a glass of wine. oh, you are so done.
pairing: lawyer!seungmin x fem!reader
genre: workplace romance, fluff, teensy angst
warnings: drinking, punching jokes, swearing
word count: 1.2k words
a/n: been in my drafts for like a week hehe. suit seungmin has me screaming. anyways, enjoy and pls drop any and all feedback!
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"I'll be charging ten dollars to punch him in the face, upon your generous request," murmured a low voice tantalizingly close to your ear.
You scoffed, "The things I want to do to Davies go far beyond a modest punch to the face. Those things could get me in jail."
One arm across your waist and the other's elbow propped upon your hand, you turned to face the owner of the honeyed voice that just offered you an extremely lucrative deal moments. Swirling around the remaining wine in your wine glass, you studied Kim Seungmin as he studied you.
"In that case," Seungmin sighed, "You'll have to pay my legal consultancy fees which, I'm afraid is far higher."
A laugh bubbled from your lips as Seungmin smirked at your rage. Watching one of the many people you were currently pitted against for a promotion kissing up to your boss made anger blossom within you. Then again, you weren't exactly known for being the most level-headed lawyer employed at the Prescott, Park and Daley Legal Firm.
But you, along with Seungmin, were known for being the best.
You offered Seungmin eyes that reflected betrayal. "I thought you would bail me out for free. I thought we were friends," you chastised.
"We most definitely are not friends, darling," said Seungmin smugly.
A smirk was forming on his lips and an eyebrow was ticked up. You felt yourself being stripped bare under his piercing gaze and flirtatious smile. Oh how he loved torturing you.
You caught your lip between your teeth to drink him in, deciding to conveniently ignore the fact that your teeth were currently in the process of being stained by your dark red lipstick. Seungmin's hair was styled to perfection, his skin was glowing and his eyes stayed on you as if you were a person he wished to learn every fold of. His three-piece suit was tailored to perfection and hugged his body perfectly.
You looked away and hoped he attributed your flushed face to the wine you were drinking. He was right though. You and Seungmin were not friends, not in the conventional sense. It was more of a situation where being paired up so much over the seven years that you spent at the firm caused to the two of you to become comfortable in each other's presence.
Both you having graduated top of your class from law school (you went to Harvard Law while Seungmin opted for Princeton), you both joined the law firm at the same time, full of dreams and aspirations. At first, you both considered one another as rivals. Constantly being compared truly made you inhibit a sort of begrudging sense of dislike towards him.
However, working your first together, truly made you realize how he was actually a very caring person. Seungmin constantly knew what to say to you without even saying anything. He brought you food and made you ramen after he found out your extreme affection towards the Korean delicacy.
You and Seungmin, however, came from strikingly different backgrounds. Seungmin lived comfortably and had a wealthy upbringing, which caused people to often underestimate his hard work. You went to school on an eighty percent scholarship but still worked three jobs to pay of your student loan, causing people to often very offensively doubt your etiquette.
You heard the rumors about rich kid Seungmin during your initial weeks at the firm. Allegedly (you are a lawyer, of course you use the word allegedly more than any other word over), he lived in a high rise apartment with so many floors that a helicopter, a fucking helicopter,crashed into the side of it.
You took extreme pride in being the only one to know that this was, in fact, true, as confirmed by the man himself.
Forcing your eyes to go back to Seungmin, your gaze sat on the horrendous lump which he called his 'tie'.
"It's on wrong," you remarked, motioning towards Seungmin's tie. He gave you shrug. "Fix it for me?"
You set down your now empty glass on the sleek granite table and the private restaurant lounge your colleagues and high playing clients were currently in. The low jazz music and soft lighting gave the entire room an ambience of romance. This was only heightened by Seungmin's sudden desire to covertly flirt with you.
Reaching around his neck to undo his tie, you never broke eye contact with him. You could feel his gaze start from your eyes and trail all the way down to your black stilettoes. He had a faint smile on his face. So he likes what he sees?
Finishing with a scoff, you send him away with a pat on his arm in a futile attempt to diffuse the tiny fireworks that were popping all over your body. Seungmin disappeared into the crowd to socialize, leaving you his scent surrounding your very being.
Grabbing another drink (a mojito), you walked over to the table where Seungmin's paralegal, Hyunjin, sat scrolling on his phone. Both of you being ambiverts who leaned more towards the introverted side, you both often found yourself sitting at the quiet people table in silence.
You could see Hyunjin's welcoming eyes move from you to somewhere behind you, morphing into one of distaste. You followed his line of sight to find your paralegal, Yeji, downing shots like her life depended on it. Although Hyunjin loved his cousin, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the things she did.
"You're painfully fond of him," started Hyunjin in mock annoyance, "It's disgusting."
You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a light slip. Hyunjin dramatically feigned pain and pushed a plate of food towards you. Your stomach rumbling as if on cue, you pounced on the food and relished it. That was one good thing about these corporate meetings; they had free food, at least as far as girl logic went.
Finishing up with a satisfied sigh, you looked up only to lock eyes with a notorious Mr. Peterson, a heavily disliked client who loved hitting on women. The bartender, Chan, offered you a sympathetic smile and slid you a shot of tequila.
"You're gonna need it," he said pitifully, patting your hand twice for reassurance.
Suppressing the urge to slap the now emerging Mr. Peterson and plastering on a fake smile, you turned to face the cause of your sorrow. The short, balding man's attempt at making any nonsensical, non-professional conversation was shot down by you quickly. You waved around your hand around, hoping he would take note of the large diamond ring that sat nestled in you finger.
You hoped he would take the hint about your marital status. You were loyal to your husband to a fault. Behind you, a Kim Seungmin watched you in amusement. You felt both sadness and anger seep into you. Sadness because he wasn't near you and anger because you were left alone to deal with a human shaped insolence.
Finally escaping from the clutches of Mr. Peterson grubby hands, you put your head down on the cold marble slab. Your hands held your heels and your head was already pounding from the effects of alcohol. Behind you, you heard a laugh that you knew unmistakable belonged to Seungmin. Turning around, you came face to face with a seemingly put together and knowingly exhausted Seungmin.
"Working hours are over," you said wearily.
"So?" came Seungmin's dry response.
You held your arms up like a child. "So, would you like to carry your extremely drunk yet adorably lovable wife home?"
Seungmin pressed a kiss to your forehead and duly obliged.
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main taglist (reply to be added) - @linoalwaysknows
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bones4thecats · 10 hours
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Their S/O Is An Ancestor of Odysseus 
Type of Writing: Random Idea  Name: Their S/O Is An Ancestor to Odysseus  Characters: Poseidon, Ares, and Hades  Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts, Epic: The Musical, and Homer’s The Odyssey 
A/N: In honor of the fifth saga of Epic: The Musical coming out today, I decided to finally write this fun prompt I made months ago. I hope you guys enjoy this piece, I personally loved writing it so much! Anyways, I have a question for you all; What is your favorite Epic: The Musical saga and your favorite song/character? 
⚠️ TW: Mentions of death, attempted murder, and permanent physical damage ⚠️ 
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Deity! Reader ; Ancestor to Odysseus - Relationship: 3/10
🔱 When he first met you, you had told him you had human descendants, and he accepted that whole-heartedly. You cannot change your lineage or who they have kids with *ZEUS
🔱 Anyways. Poseidon did eventually ask to see your only known descendant, at least to you. And he was not amused to see him again 
🔱 You and Hermes just stood alongside one another and lead Poseidon to the male’s home, the only reason Hermes knew is because your initial descendant, who was the human’s father, had a child with Hermes’ female descendant, Anticlea 
🔱 Smiling gently as a young male named Telemachus ran up and hugged you as a female, that being Penelope, also came out and embraced you while she smiled and nodded to Hermes 
🔱 Asking to see the boy’s father, Poseidon gained a small sense of nervousness. Why was he suddenly a hair off about seeing your once-living descendant 
🔱 Oh, this was why… 
" Poseidon, my love. Meet- "  " Odysseus?! " 
🔱 Looking back and forth between your blonde-lover and your brunette descendant, Odysseus, you began to look at Hermes, asking him with your eyes how they knew one another 
" What a coincidence, Uncle Poseidon! It seems that Y/N is the ancestor to Odysseus, the man who you tried killing multiple times centuries ago! How intriguing! "  " You tried to WHAT?! " 
🔱 Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the God of the Seas and walked to you, opening his arms for a hug, which you sincerely accepted as you glared at your husband in silent rage. Your eyes said everything to him; you better explain yourself. 
🔱 Poseidon sighed lightly and began to tell you everything, right from the start of his involvement with Odysseus 
" You do remember Polyphemus, correct? "  " Of course I remember him. Why? "  " Your boy here blinded him. He and his men had come in and attempted to steal his flock of sheep from him. And, after a mild fight, he blinded him with a burning steak, as he slept nonetheless. How cowardly. " 
🔱 While you were now upset with both parties, Telemachus and Penelope eventually got the two to come to an understanding as to not upset you and possibly cause a massive dispute that may end up with you losing your mind, and not fakely like Odysseus tried 
🔱 Odysseus and Poseidon may act nice when your looking, but they literally glare at one another when you look another way. And you know this, but seeing them at least try to bond to help you warms your heart to much to say anything ✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅
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Deity! Reader ; Ancestor to Odysseus - Relationship: 6/10 
⚔️ You were thankful that Ares had enough free time to come with you down to Elysium to meet your descendant 
⚔️ He has always asked you questions of him, and because you finally got back into contact with the man who distantly shared your blood, you excitedly told him that he, his wife, and his son were all available the following week 
⚔️ Ares was nervous as hell when approaching the house of your descendant 
⚔️ They’re basically the only family you have left, since Hermes doesn’t count because you weren’t related, your lineage members were 
⚔️ But, in a way of generosity, Hermes decided to join you both. In his words, which were twisted majestically with a suave tone that matched the once youthful Zeus had, he just wanted to encounter the man who was the result of two deity-influenced offsprings coming together 
" Lady Y/N! To what do we owe the pleasure? "  " The pleasure is all mine, youngling. Now, where's Penelope and her husband? They invited me here with my husband- "  " Lord Ares! "  " Uh- yeah… "  " Can you please direct us to them, ma'am? "
⚔️ After being directed to a long dining room, which was where you found a young male with brunette hair, an older-woman, and an older-man with the same hair as the younger one 
⚔️ Smiling as you hugged him and the two other mortal and humanized souls, Ares narrowed his eyes at the older man, before asking who he was 
" Odysseus, King of Ithaca. And this is my wife, Penelope, and my son, Telemachus. And you must be Ares, the God of War. It is a pleasure to meet you. "  " And you… Odysseus. " 
⚔️ While Ares was caught off guard by how adaptive and calm-seeming Odysseus was, he was quite pleased with how accepted the human was with his ancestor marrying a relative of the man who tried killing him and did kill most of his men 
⚔️ But, he is thankful that Poseidon doesn’t randomly come up in the conversation. As that would’ve led to Odysseus hearing the stories of how, in Poseidon’s eyes, he was a horrendous person 
⚔️ Well, they ain’t wrong. His personality kinda lacks sometimes
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Deity! Reader ; Ancestor to Odysseus - Relationship: 9/10 
💀 Hades was pleased to hear how adoringly you would speak of your human lineage. Most deities would shun that, as they believe Humanity are a bunch of scum and worse than rust on a boat’s underside 
💀 He is a family-centered man at heart, so seeing how close you were to these humans made him want to meet them himself 
💀 But what he didn’t expect was seeing a familiar face standing alongside a woman and younger boy 
💀 It was Odysseus. The man who blinded his nephew, Polyphemus, and enraged his second-younger brother, Poseidon 
" Oh! How unexpected, right, Uncle Hades? " 
💀 Yeah, he just stood there for a good few minutes, just staring with wide eyes like this; 🤯 
💀 Hades eventually snapped out of his daze and cleared his throat before offering his hand to the King of Ithaca, his wife, and son, while you just opened your arms to embrace them as if you had known them for centuries 
💀 Well, you have, but you get the point 
💀 You and Penelope had nudged Hades through the castle before landing in a room where there laid many tapestries of happenings from Odysseus’ journey back home, but the three decorative fabrics that stood out were Polyphemus’ attack, Poseidon’s iconic rage, and Odysseus in the Underworld 
" Ah, you seem to have found my small shine. I remember all of these events as if it was yesterday, and I suppose 9 years prior. "  " Yes… I seemingly forgot that you had come to the Underworld to seek out… oh what was his name again? Oh, yes, Tiresias. " 
💀 Hearing of Odysseus’ experience in Hades’ Kingdom made them slightly closer, as Hades allowed him to visit some of his deceased previous crewmates and his mother, whom was happy to see him years later 
💀 They have a far better bond than Hades does with the rest of his brothers, but he must keep that from Poseidon. His jealousy knows no end
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leviathanspain · 1 day
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keep my heart
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eric northman x human!reader
synopsis: you were his achilles heel, his heart outside of his body, and he would do anything to protect it
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eric hadn’t given you any details after picking you up from work. you had settled into his car after your long shift at merlotte’s, the restaurant air lingered on your skin, the hard work of the day ached in your bones. you felt everything but beautiful, and initially refused the vampire’s offer to drive you home. but after much convincing, and the reminder that you barely had a choice, you had reluctantly gotten into the car with him.
he looked at you coolly, turning on the radio as he began to drive. you stared at his side profile, waiting for him to say something. eric smiled slightly, “what?” he didn’t know what made you so special in his eyes, from your knowledge and the words of many others, eric hated humans, didn’t respect human life enough.
but you, you had been the only exception, and eric found himself fighting to keep you in his life, even if he’s had to subtly change his ways. yet somehow, the past always came to bite him back in the ass, hence the reason he had decided to drop you off at bill’s house instead of your house. he owed him a favor anyway.
you watched as the silhouette of your house passed you by. you sat up with a slight panic and let out a nervous chuckle, “seemed to pass my house by. i’m surprised you forgot, i thought your memory was supposed to be sharp.” you tried to be playful, not knowing the bounds of his anger, and you never wanted to.
eric smiled softly, “i didn’t.” his hand moved over to the radio knob and turned the music all the way up. it blasted as you exhaled deeply. you were trying not to panic, you hadn’t been in danger with eric before, and you had been hanging around him for a while. but you weren’t sure if it was sookie’s words on eric that came back to haunt you, or just the sheer panic of it all, but for the first time, you were afraid of eric northman.
you recognized bill’s house as the car pulled in. you had been there just a handful of times, mostly with sookie who had been the one to introduce you to eric. you looked at eric and he grabbed your hand, “please.” he didn’t have to say much else as you understood what he was trying to say.
behave. the word went unspoken, and you stepped out of the car after a moment of hesitation. you had no reason not to trust the viking, he had been more than kind to you for the while that hes shown interest in you. courting you, buying you expensive gifts and gowns, more than a small town girl would ever need. yet, you hadn’t shared more than a kiss, nothing to warrant his affection. it was a mystery, his interest in you, but you liked his company, and at times, his protection.
eric could feel your fear, he saw it in your shoulders as you walked next to him. he had been silent the entire time, not knowing what else he was supposed to say. he put a hand against the small of your back, gently leading you into the house.
you looked at eric with wide eyes as you saw bill. there was an expression of distress on bill’s features as he saw you. you knew through sookie that bill couldn’t stand eric’s infatuation with you. he thought it was dangerous, yet he had no qualms of his own romance with sookie.
so to be standing here at his doorstep with said dangerous man behind you, you felt small. bill looked at you and smiled politely, “miss y/n, sookie is here. why don’t you join her?” he stepped aside, opening his arm to lead you in. you turned to look at eric and caught a glimpse of the look he shared with bill.
whatever he was doing, he was doing it for you.
you swallowed thickly and nodded, feeling stiff as you walked into the living room, seeing the blonde ponytail of your best friend, feeling a slight relief. she usually had the answers, even if she always had something to say about your friendship with eric.
she turned as you approached the couch she was seated on. “y/n-“ she embraced you tightly, “im so glad you’re alright.” she pulled away and you furrowed your eyebrows, “why wouldn’t i be? do you know why eric brought me here? what’s going on sookie?” you had so many questions that seemed to erupt at her words. clearly she knew something you didn’t, and she shouldn’t have told you.
her face tightened, unsure of how to explain the situation, you ran off back towards eric.
he and bill had moved their conversation to the library and you pushed the partially opened door, wide open, “eric- what the hell is going on?” you wanted to trust him, and you had been, knowing often that what he did, he did with a purpose.
but randomly offering to pick you up after work, and driving past your house on purpose had been one, but sookie knowing before you did of your own fate was ridiculous, especially coming from him.
the vampires’ conversation died down immediately and eric looked at you with a stone expression. bill looked between the two of you and once towards eric before excusing himself politely.
you stared at eric, and he sighed deeply, breaking the stoic expression and silence that he had been giving you all night.
“eric-“ you were scared, you didn’t want to admit it but in a world that became almost unrecognizable to you in the past few years, you had the right to be. he stood up and walked over to you. he inhaled and gently put his hands on your arms, “y/n-“ eric’s head was bowed, unusual for a man who loved eye contact, “bill will protect you while i’m gone. i-“ eric cleared his throat, “i’ve gotten into some shit and,” he shrugged, “they have a tendency to harm the ones i love. and i haven’t had to protect anyone,” he finally looked up at you, “in a very long time.” as he looked into your eyes, it suddenly dawned on you that your friendship with eric had long been something else.
“i see.” you couldn’t help the automatic reply that came out, you were too occupied staring into the viking’s eyes. unable to stop yourself, you leaned in to kiss eric, his lips catching yours into a passionate kiss. his hands fell from your arms down to your waist, squeezing tight at your hips.
eric pulled away suddenly and you called after him, “eric!” but he was already racing out the door, his long legs giving him the advantage. you saw him walking towards the door and you leapt towards him, but felt hands gripping at you, stopping you from reaching eric.
you turned and saw it was bill, who’s vampire strength easily subdued you. eric looked at you painfully and at bill, “keep my heart, bill compton, or else i’ll be really, really fucking pissed.”
as eric left, and you continued to struggle in bill’s arms, you were left with more questions than before, and at the tone of his words, you weren’t sure if and when eric northman would return for you.
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drunkenskunk · 1 day
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Welcome to another Drunk Skunk™ rant!
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So.
I've had some time to sit and stew on the Fallout show, and I think I've finally figured out exactly what I want to say. Because kids? I got Opinions™ about this fucking series. I sincerely wish I didn't have all these Opinions™, because that would almost certainly cause me significantly less stress.
But here we are.
The Fallout show annoys me, but not for the reasons you think.
Let's get the good out of the way first. And by "good" I mean "damning with faint praise."
The Fallout show, as a piece of entertainment and experienced in a vacuum with no prior knowledge or context of the rest of the series or any of the other video games, is... fine. It's an entertaining television show. It's not great, but it's not terrible. It's okay.
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The best part of the show is, unquestionably, Walton Goggins. Which is probably the coldest take here, everyone agrees that he's fantastic in this. And it's true! Granted, he doesn't look nearly as gnarly as he should, as the makeup is really giving Ryan Reynolds Deadpool Hugo Weaving Red Skull vibes, but I can honestly give that a pass. He steals every single scene he's in. He has all the best lines. Plus, all the pre-war flashbacks with him are excellent. That first scene when the bombs drop is fucking harrowing.
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SPEAKING OF THE BOMBS!
The big reveal that Vault Tec were the ones to kickstart the apocalypse. My initial gut reaction to that was... Not Great. I didn't like it. In fact, I kinda hated it. I thought it was an answer to a question that nobody asked, because nobody cared, because it was never supposed to matter who shot first. The original point was that the end of the world was the inevitable outcome after so many years of war, so many years of stockpiling nuclear weapons, and so many bad decisions from everyone in positions of power on all sides of the conflict.
But the more I think about Vault Tec being the ones to destroy the world... I dunno, the more I... kinda like it? In a fashion. Sort of. As you can see by the remaining length of this fucking rant, I have Complicated Feelings about this!
See, Fallout has never exactly been subtle with its themes, but the show drops all pretense, and openly embraces a staunchly (and honestly, extremely surprising) anti-capitalist narrative.
The Fallout show pulls a Garth Marenghi unironically, and it honestly... kinda works?
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Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs because they wanted to recreate the world in their image of a capitalist "paradise" free of any and all government regulation. The inevitable end result of the "great game" of capitalism is the literal end of the world, and the capitalists will do everything they can to destroy any attempts to rebuild any civilization not explicitly under their direct control. Because that's what capitalists do: they pursue an ultimately self-destructive goal that is not, and never was, sustainable, and will destroy everything else in their pursuit of endless, infinite, exponential growth, forever. Nothing else matters except Make Number Line Go Up.
Side note: it is extremely funny to me that Bethesda - a hollow shell of greed and excess who have been releasing the same game with different wallpapers over and over again since Oblivion - and Amazon - which is fucking Amazon - bankrolled a show where the villains are greedy capitalists who explicitly destroyed the world because of fiduciary duty to the shareholders. Like... guys, you do realize you two are Vault Tec in this scenario, right?
Ah well. That's capitalist realism for ya.
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Anyway, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes that Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs.
HOWEVER.
Maybe this is just me being a cynical, drunken asshole here, but... it feels like this was a decision that was made, not because it was the best way to take the narrative, but instead as a means of enforcing the Status Quo of Bethesda Fallout.
See, the thing I liked about the west coast Fallout games was that it showed a world ravaged by the apocalypse, but it also showed that world beginning to heal. 200 years after The End, and civilization was returning. It was a natural evolution of things, emphasizing the post part of "post-apocalypse." It showed us a world that really sucked a lot of the time... but also gave us a small sliver of hope that, no matter what nightmares existed after The End, things could - and would - get better, so long as we put in the work to make it better. It was a world that showed us that nothing was ever so broken that it couldn't be repaired. We just had to fucking EARN that happy ending.
Bethesda Fallout, on the other hand, is just Wacky Wasteland Adventure Time. They are not interested in showing a world evolving or changing or growing, they just want a blasted hellscape that looks like it was freshly nuked yesterday. Why? Because that's the surface-level Aesthetic of Fallout. That is what is recognizable. And Aesthetic is all they know how to do. That's the mother fucking Brand.
Doing something different would risk changing the Brand, and if that kind of change happens, then it's no longer easily marketable. So they just keep with what's familiar: freshly irradiated hellscapes, caps as currency, makeshift weapons, psychotic raiders with no purpose or goals beyond Fuck You, and more of the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. It's all the stuff we remember, so we can point at the screen and go "I recognize that!" instead of allowing the setting to evolve and creating something new.
And that's what annoys me the most. Because even though Vault Tec destroying the world in 2077 makes a certain amount of sense, it also feels like it only exists as a means of artificially enforcing the status quo of the setting. Which means that nothing will ever matter in Fallout ever again. It doesn't matter what happens, or what changes in the future, or who wins the next ideological conflict between the same factions that keep reappearing over and over again like radroaches. Because whenever something strays too far from the established setting, Vault Tec (or, more accurately, Bethesda) is just going to nuke it again, like what happened to Shady Sands.
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And, y'know, Shady Sands getting nuked like that really does rankle. Not because I ever had any attachment to the NCR, but because destroying it in the way that they did just felt so fucking lazy. If they wanted to get rid of the NCR, there were easily half a dozen other things they could've done that would've made far more sense. The NCR was a fantastically corrupt government, making the same mistakes as the same governments that (up until the show) were responsible for destroying the world. California was running out of food and clean drinking water because of gross negligence and mismanagement, public unrest was high because of excessive taxation and the "stop tolls" of corrupt border guards shaking down people, and both the military and bureaucracy of the NCR was spread fucking paper-thin, due to their policies of violent imperialist expansionism trying to take far more territory than they could reasonably hold, far more quickly than they could ever manage.
And did any of that matter? No. Not at all. Pursuing any of those plot threads would've required the writers to actually come up with some new ideas. So, instead, it was destroyed because of a cryogenically frozen Vault Tec middle manager with family problems. It was such a fucking lazy solution to a problem that should never have existed in the first place. It felt like the Fallout equivalent of "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."
That's why this show annoys me so much. Because this show that exists without subtlety or subtext, is telling us, to our face:
Don't hope for a better future, because it will never come. The world of Fallout is a destroyed, irradiated hellscape, entirely devoid of hope, and it will never, ever change, ever again.
Because that's the Fallout Brand, and that's what fucking sells.
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jahiera · 9 months
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You mentioned in a previous Astarion analysis post:
"But, I think, given his behavior, his casual flirtiness, his "You want to lose yourself in me," (another line I can squawk about endlessly in terms of character analysis)"
I am encouraging you to squawk. I think you've got a really good grasp of his character and I love your posts!
UPDATE***written during EA
@littlemisstrancy Sorry for the late reply! I fell down another rabbit hole of replaying haha.... Aww, thank you! I'm so glad, a good grade in Astarion is a Normal and Reasonable thing to want to achieve. But YES, I find his entire sex scene to be extremely interesting (going off of what Larian said that, paraphrased, nonsexual intimacy with some will mean more than sex with others, because of the nature of the relationship.)
What I find most interesting about Astarion's romance scenes is that the scene itself is remarkably much more syrupy than he, by nature, really is. We can point to, "darling," "my love," as evidence of his tendencies for the dramatics, yes, but given that these are petnames he'll throw out to a Tav he hates as much as a Tav he enjoys, the surface meaning and connotations of dramatic flirtations and even more dramatic pre-sex speeches.... shifts.
The way we filter these interactions shifts because we have to filter what is, at first glance, a typical romance scene, through the lens of the character giving the spiel. If Astarion associates dramatic seduction and slinky purring as simply the easiest way to get what he wants--or, perhaps, more than that, the expectation, the only way for this interaction to occur, because hollow dramatics/play-acting have been likely the only pseudo-""romance"" he's engaged in in the 200 years he's been with Cazador, that changes the meaning of everything, including the line: "You want to lose yourself in me." <- sure laddie, just keep objectifying and disconnecting yourself from the experience itself and repeat the habits of behavior that you've learned from 200 years of being someone else's toy and tool where you weren't even a willing participant in what was happening, merely a mandatory one. that'll be really great. no backfiring here whatsoever.
Okay, sorry, under the cut the rest of this goes because I went off on three different tangents to try and tie them all back together again. This is mostly my background reasoning for above. WHAT DOES THE REST HAVE TO DO WITH TAV. Honestly I'm not sure anymore I started talking and then I didn't stop talking.
It feels like so much of the overarching realities of their circumstances fall away for Tav, but it also haunts the entire interaction with Astarion. Shallow charm. Winning over people. A pretty face opening doors. I'd chalk it up to sexy-video-game-scene-writing if it were any other game, but the other romance scenes aren't nearly so grandstanding and are written I think intentionally to subvert that, so this is an Astarion Thing, and likely goes deeper than that first glance. As it stands, Astarion barely even knows who he is now that he's outside of Cazador's control. "Another thing that I've lost." -- His personhood has been nonexistent, and he's been a tool, and he's been, for lack of a better word, dehumanized to the fullest extent for an insurmountable amount of time. So of course the thing he learned best is that the easiest way to get what you want, or get what you need, is to be easily projected unto. He can't keep the facade up for very long, I don't think, but in that scene his "don't ask too many questions just look at how hot I am" mindset is fully on to me.
The thing is that his circumstances with Tav here are entirely different than the ones he's been in before, but just because the circumstances are different doesn't mean that the behavior will be different, or that habits formed out of severe distress/torture in his own words will be so easily let go of. My ULTIMATE POINT is that charm and flirtations are things Astarion clearly separates from himself and his actual beliefs, and he treats what we conceive as "charming" behavior fairly flippantly--once again, that "my love," means... not... a lot. we just met 2 weeks ago, pal. And I don't think he's interested in using it like that anymore, because he's not making a super great effort to be perceived as likeable. It comes out mostly in scenes where flirting and charisma are expected of the interaction and then they're pushed to their most exaggerated format, when he isn't actually typically like that in other conversations. Dramatic and foppish, yes, and enjoys ridiculousness in several formats, yes, but not nearly so egregiously saccharine, at all.
If he is starting to give a fuck about Tav, or even the group, that's something else to grapple with, and it's still at this point I think partly wrapped up in the idea that Tav makes for a "good ally." His scenes where he says: "we're more alike than I thought" "You're stronger than I gave you credit for," feel more genuine and honest to me in some ways than his sex scene speech. His fondness for Tav and his idea that strength/power/security can be found by sticking close to Tav can be true at the same time, in an interesting dance between his growing connection to them and his general ideas on people, power, and control.
So secondary: is Astarion a manipulator who's using this sex scene to control Tav emotionally and that's what he's got going on here? Eh... maybe yes and no? He wouldn't ask Tav if he wasn't interested--as seen by how he'll shut you down if he can't stand your guts. If he's using sex for that, it's up in the air, open to interpretation, depends on your HC, I can see both interpretations and I'm not going to claim one is more true than the other, since there's evidence for both "manipulating" and "not manipulating" and to me, the truth falls somewhere in the middle. I'm sure the thought has probably crossed his mind, but I don't actually think he's good enough at charm to follow through on that, which I will now elaborate on in INTRICATE detail....
Astarion isn't actually concerned about being likeable, or wanted within the group--or, rather, he may be concerned about it (because there's both safety and danger in a group setting), but he also isn't concerned about it enough to not advocate entirely for self-preservation and selfishness at generally every turn. He also isn't concerned about winning over the group enough to abdicate his firmest belief: that the tadpole is an advantage they should use, and a power he intends to keep.
And, if you relent to the group, he calls you spineless in the face of everyone else. So he's not afraid to insult you, Tav, either, certainly not to preserve some loose semblance image of ""charming,"" which he's already really bad at maintaining in general, because his brand of everything can just as easily piss people off as compel. Bad taste central.
Hell, his intro scene displays this best: He lures you in with a silly little lie that makes him sound weaker than he is ("You can kill it, can't you? Like you killed the others!") and then he strikes when your back is turned. Shallow charm is an accessible tool, he doesn't have the patience for long-lasting plots or extended slinky charm. Or if he does, and he's been manipulating all of us, he's not doing a great job, since half the party is making faces at him the whole time. Buuut....
During the mirror conversation, if you tell him vanity is a weakness:
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(Text - Astarion: It's an indulgence, I'll grant you, but a weakness? A well-presented face can open a lot of doors.)
There is an awareness of beauty and charm that Astarion references often. He isn't really afraid to objectify himself for his own means, or being perceived as weaker than he is (except in certain circumstances). He knows these things are quite relevant, socially. Beautiful people are treated better. Beautiful people typically can get away with more. Actually I could probably approach this from a Class and Wealth related lens too, because his history as a magistrate probably also influences this mindset a lot, but that is. a THIRD separate essay.
He seeks to be strong enough to beat Cazador, at least partly through the same means that Cazador himself uses. The tadpoles give us absolute authority, in the end, and Astarion has zero qualms inflicting onto others what was inflicted onto him when we use them. But prior to the tadpole, what tools did Astarion have at his disposal? Very few, and most of them revolved around empty charm, quick-thinking, and trying to predict unpredictable moods and then enduring whatever came of those moods. That hollow charm falls under these kinds of tools, which gave him very short-term influence over at least the people he would lure back to Cazador. Likely the only form of control or power he had within all of that, and where he himself was without control as his entire being was under someone else's thumb. And those habits will likely persist for awhile, until he relearns who and what he wants to do and be outside of Cazador's purview. Which could mean anything, this is not to make him sound softer than he is or sweeter than he is. His vainglorious bitch syndrome is 4D chess of truth and not truth, empty cloying, vicious lashing out, and 10 degrees of identity issues wrapped up in all of that, so it's difficult to pin down just one thing as Real or Not Real, and I don't think even he knows what's Real and Not Real right now.
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waterghostype · 4 months
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crusty kid
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blueskittlesart · 6 months
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Now that you're gone
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Also I am. Constantly forgetting how fucking funny Hunter is. We never give him enough credit for how funny he is because his life is so fucked up but I swear 90% of his lines are just bit after bit after bit. He's not even trying either. Anytime he actively tries to make a joke it falls flat but if you just put him in a Scenario he'll find a way to be so over invested and yet out of touch/at odds with whatever's going on. He's so autistic
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