#I’m getting off topic here but it’s weighing on me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gangplanksorenji · 4 months

Text

Kinknuary Day 15: Blindfold/Sensory Deprivation

Pairing: aespa Karina x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,840

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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

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

“Alone today, huh?”

A visible shock was seen on Karina’s face as you startled her immediately and caught her off-guard, almost spat out her sweet concoction that she mostly treasured—well, for the time being.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Karina’s bewildered face tells exactly how she’s in utter shock seeing your face at such random times, but nonetheless, you see those orbs of hers lit up once she sees you.

“Well, can I just say I just want to come here and then by a great chance, I saw you here.” You cock an eyebrow at her and in response, she scoffs as she’s not falling for your lies here, again and maybe never again.

“Come on—” Karina pulls you by your wrists, closer to her before whispering to you, “—you came to see me here, don’t you? Plus—” Karina lets go of her tight onto your wrists as she relaxes herself and puts on a hubristic demeanor. “—you don’t really go to bars like this. Don’t make me a liar—I know you.”

Well, that’s like one of the two reasons why you chose to be even at this bar even though you’re always hectic to come and most preferably, wanting to stay home just to binge-watch some movies or play all the same four games you love playing—you came to see her, intentionally with a single goal in mind wanting to be fulfilled or you won’t be able to get a good night’s sleep.

Clicking your tongue as she cracks the code, you finally admitted your true purpose on being here and that didn’t lead Karina surprised in any way. “Okay, okay—I just came here to check on you because of what happened yesterday.” Your tone is sincere as Karina can hear it laced between every word you say as she stops drinking and averted her attention towards you.

“About what? What happened yesterday?” Karina’s tone is fused with puzzlement as she seems to not know what you’re talking about but you know how she’s brushing it off by trying to pretend to be oblivious and that won’t work on your watch, nonetheless what may happen. Sitting right beside her and placing your arms onto the table, you face her as your disposition weighs gravitas.

“I heard the news—you broke up with him and you’re here to drink it off, don’t you.”

You can see the visible frustration on Karina’s face the second you bring up the topic as she manages to maintain her obliviousness but that won’t last for long as it’s bound to break at any time now.

Karina scoffs as she raises her voice a little, provoking her inner rage from bringing up the forgetful event now, “ What do you even mean by that? Nothing even happened!”

“Oh, Karina, Karina, Karina—stop telling me that and I’m here to talk that with you.” Concern paints all over your face and as much as she’s incredibly stubborn in denying the truth, you chose to really be patient with her and address the situation where both parties won’t be provoked with anger and deep grudges at the end. “By the way, where are your friends? Aren’t they supposed to comfort you—”

“What are you even talking about??” Karina angrily boils her frustration out from even diving further onto the topic as she’s still in denial, the dormant rage inside her waiting to be boiled up and erupt soon like a volcano. “Also, they’re all busy and I want to be alone by myself!”

“Hey, hey—” You grabbed her wrists and made her face you as enchantingly, your gaze makes her calm down as you reassure her with your mellow tone and with touch on her hands “—I’m sorry for bringing that up but please, talk to me.”

Karina’s unstoppable fury finds its absolute demise as it slowly dissipates, your touch and your tone calming her down as she feels defeated and you can see it in her expressions and most of all, her eyes—her eyes that never lie. You know that you’re one of her weaknesses and can’t help but unveil the truth whenever she’s with you—for multiple case—and that's the beauty of it: you have each others’ trust and no one can break that apart, not even yourselves as the platonic love of being friends is within the both of you.

“Talk to me about what happened, Karina.”

You’re maybe crossing the line in terms of her privacy and the will to reflect but nonetheless, your advances are meant for the best for her as she probably needs someone to talk to, personally even though she’s not clearly vocal about it.

Now, gaining the courage and letting herself be in a state of tranquil, she lets herself be vocal about everything as she feels the utter comfort with you and with alone, puts a smile on your face. Karina then scoffs and lets out a deep sigh before looking at the distance, feeling vexed about the situation she just saw. “I saw him with someone else, kissing t-that another girl…”

You can sense Karina’s walls breaking down, piece by piece as she was deeply hurt at what she saw, leaving a wound down her heart that she absolutely can’t bear to deal with. Her voice gets hoarse as the emotions inside her are winning yet she still manages to tell you what happened despite the struggle she’s dealing with. “And like, I was like, a-at the distance and then, my w-world just fell down after that…”

Concern paints your face as you were disheartened at what happened as you think that hurt much worse knowing that it all happened ephemerally as she probably can’t comprehend how she’s badly hurt. “Oh fuck—I’m sorry t-to hear that, Karina…”

“Oh, you don’t n-need to be sorry.” Karina wipes her tears gracefully with her index finger as she faintly smiles at you, feeling a little grateful on listening to her. Of course, your curiosity took over you as you wanted to know more of what she saw, knowing for a fact that you may gather information or to do something with it.

“Have you seen the one he cheated with? Any features you saw on the girl?”

Karina scoffs again, yet this time, anger is starting to boil down as her face permeates vengeance and utter discomfort trying to think of that girl he cheated with but nonetheless, she gave you some vague answers. “I don’t really know ‘cause I didn’t really look at her but she’s probably my height and she has wavy, red hair—I think. Tch, don’t want to talk about that bastard anymore.”

You can definitely see how annoyed she is whenever she talks about the event she would want to completely forget. Knowing such vague information can’t really put you up onto a desirable conclusion to help her with a revenge, you’d probably want to keep yourself off at their problem as you want no more harm or much better, to completely brush this off as you want Karina’s heart to probably mend slowly with you by her side.

Yes, even if the line’s crossed only with being just friends with her, you show passion and support towards her and it;s further ignites with your true feelings of love for her. Yes, that’s right—you genuinely love her to the point that you’re being on her tail and obsessed with her but those are the days where you’re completely depressed and she herself helped out of it and ever since that happened, you’ve never looked at her the same way again (in a good way, though).

Your love for her is unconditional, that you only love to see her genuinely happy as always, and you’re willing to make her happy whenever she’s feeling down if possible… and that’s true love.

When Karina’s about to take another sip, you stop her as she’s shocked with your actions yet you’re just implying a better change for her as it’s for her own good, not yours. “Alcohol’s not always the way, Karina.”

Of course, Karina lightly glares at you, pouting slightly before giving her reasoning, “Come on, I paid for this—just let me finish it.”

“Okay, but that’s your last, alright? Don’t want you to go out of here drunk that you couldn’t see straight.”

Of course, she has a point and you let her be. It’s at least better than most of the ways you’re thinking when she’s depressed or not in the mood and you’ll do everything to enlighten that glowing delight she always had. Yes, you’re determined to make her happy and that’s what makes her grateful to have a friend like you…

---

“I think we should go home.”

“To where, Karina?”

“My place—you can also stay for the night since I ditched his cheating ass.” Karina retorts, displaying her rage towards him and her authority over her place.

“Damn—never knew you’re brutal.”

“What do you mean I’m brutal? He definitely deserves it!” Karina exclaimed as she stated her point and you absolutely got it—her goddamn deserves it as you just played her with your own sarcasm, making her smile a little.

Even though with the free road and minimal traffic ahead, the ride was still killing enough time as you didn’t mind it, not when the both of you jammed onto the songs throughout the travel and even talked about some interesting topics that sure piqued both your interests as the both of you get to know each other even more. You can sense her happiness slowly recharging back to its original state as her constant bright smiles and laughs with you are enough of an evidence and that alone makes yourself feel gleeful for her own good.

“Well, I think, in your place it is…”

Well, if that’s the final conclusion, then you’ll be happy to be with for the rest of the night and maybe, something may go onto the road of no-return or something we called as a spicy one…

---

“Wow, it's still as good as when I last came here.”

Karina can’t hide the chuckle she’s doing as she feels flustered with the said compliment, knowing that she organized it all well and it’s probably a man’s dream to have a home this simple yet luxurious in anyone’s eyes.

“Well, evil spirits may come and go but it’s all looking fine—you wanna eat something, though?”

With Karina’s polite approach towards you, you might not want to decline her offer as you’re on the verge of some unbearable hunger yourself. So, without a doubt, you agreed and stood up, approaching her as she’s still busy looking for food in the fridge.

“Do you want some fried chicken? I can microwave it if you want—”

“Yeah, sure, Rina. I’ll do it myself so you don’t have to and we’ll share this…”

You then grabbed the glass tupperware from the refrigerator full of fried chicken as you prepared the ceramic plate and grabbed four for the both of you. Karina smiles from your gentlemanly advances as you initiated to do the job yourself and even though she would want herself to do the job, you just insisted on doing it yourself and that makes her heart flutter a little. You then put those delicious chicken into the microwave and set up the timer, time being the tool to test your patience as you turned to talk to her in order to kill some time of waiting.

“By the way, why are you dressed like that even though you just went to the bar?” Again, curiosity peaks your interest as you’re a bit puzzled on why she’s looking like a majestic princess with that glittery one-piece dress with only a couple of her time to spare to just drink and reflect?

“Well, what if I told you that I just wanted to dress like this?” Karina feigns her denial again, as she’s not even trying to convince you with her demeanor as the lack of gravitas made you conclude that she did something before she even went to the bar.

“And that’s a major ‘what if’, Karina. You went somewhere that’s why you dressed like that, didn't you?” You’re tone laces hubris, as you know that she went somewhere elegant to dress with the same energy of elegance. She won’t deny herself—even though she technically didn’t, and just enlightened you with a proposition.

“Okay—me and my friends went to a party and I was hesitant at first but I gave in. Also, I’m sorry I lied to you, again…”

Well, that makes much more of a sense and not going to lie, the first time you laid your eyes on her, it was an enchanting experience—it felt like your world went into an abrupt stop as you’re mesmerized on how drop-dead gorgeous she is in all aspects you can think of: her pretty, perfectly-shaped face that's visuals are blowing your mind, her porcelain skin that you’d just want to run over your fingers to feel its smoothness, her hourglass figure and that dress complimenting her curves so well and more than what you could possibly tell.

Yes, you’re goddamn in love once you saw her and you won’t be a hypocrite and deny anything unlike her—it always has been this way yet you’re just scared to confess your true feelings towards her because of her relationship and now knowing she’s pretty much in a ‘single’ status, you’ll take this opportunity slowly as your chances would be higher.

Maybe, even though it’s selfish and partly wrong on your side, there’s no harm that can be done as you won’t lose everything and will have everything to win.

“Nah, it’s fine, Rina. Also, you look great in that outfit by the way. I love it on you.”

Karina inches closer on you while you’re still leaning onto the center table at the kitchen, waiting for the food to be heated. As she approaches you closely, you could sense some rising tension from her but brush it off, thinking it’s just one of your fallacies and delusions yet it becomes more evident when she’s just inches away from you, and smiling genuinely before eyeing on your chest and maintaining eye contact towards you.

“Thanks, glad you love this outfit on me but—” Karina intoxicates you with her sweet, alcoholic breath and then catching you off-guard with a torrid kiss that made your eyes lit up in shock and excitement, her immediate actions causing you to panic, your heart tripling its beat but nonetheless, you treasure every second invested onto the kiss as you eagerly reciprocated. You find the taste of her lips addicting as you fall under her spell and you find yourself diving deeper into the intimacy of such a hot kissing session.

The earlier turmoil was now calmed as the storm is now raging between the both parties, letting both your aggressions act up as your hands roams around her waist and her body and hers roaming around the back of your head which further ignites the fiery fervor between the both of you.

Such good things can be met with their own denouement as she pulls out of your lips’ embrace slowly, and then looking at your eyes endearingly and said, “I know what you're feeling—” Karina then points at your chest, onto your heart and continued, “—I can feel right here, beating for me.”

Well, her clever mind found out your genuine adoration towards her as there’s no point of turning back or denying—you just need confirmation from yourself even though it’s not needed, the beat of heart says so and she can feel it.

“You may not know this, Karina but—” Your hands then caressed her slender waist throughout the expensive clothing as your eyes captivate her, “—I've fallen in love with you ever since we’ve met yet I’m just scared to tell it all to you…”

You let yourself be free from the shackles that confined your true feelings for her as this opportunity should be seized up to its finest. You’ve never felt such a great sigh of relief until she directed what you’re really feeling and now with yourself being free and eased up, you couldn’t contain your need for her as you’re the one who initiated another kiss this time as the sloppy sounds of it became evident on how much you needed each other. Such clashing of soft fleshes never felt so good, and it’s better when Karina’s tongue starts dancing all over yours, intertwined as both muscles fight for dominance and utter adoration. With the messy, sloppy kisses that’s been going on for minutes, the both you further indulged into it as you didn’t mind the messy saliva that was all over your mouth since you’ve started.

“God—y-you’re such a great kisser…”

“You too, Karina—I never knew I needed this.”

Karina sighs as she felt flustered from your actions, and enlightened you with her own feelings too. “I never knew I’ll feel the same as you did to me, honestly…”

You felt a surge of serotonin when Karina grabbed your hand and directed it onto her chest—even though it's a little uncomfortable due to the feeling of accidentally touching her busts, you’d trust her because you trust her—and then, you can feel the subsequent fast beating of her heart.

That alone makes you feel flustered knowing that the feelings are mutual between each other and you’d like to take a step further yet you need great pace with that, of course.

“Can you feel it? It’s just the same as what you’re feeling too…”

Exchanging smiles because of the comfortable feeling she has shown you, you initiated another torrid kiss yet this time, you didn’t fully invest your attention towards kissing her intimately but rather, fondled her massive mounds that you’ve always wanted to touch yet something provoked her which scared you.

“Hey! Oohh~”

“Oh shit—I’m sorry, Karina—”

“No!” Karina then grabbed your hand as she directed it onto her mounds for another time, making you involuntarily squeeze them gently and fondle them with care and in response, she moaned beautifully as its almost inaudible yet it blessed your ears and it’s such a brilliant cacophony to hear. “I want more of this~”

Given the green light, you gently kiss her neck and collarbones while fondling her tits with care and inevitably, she lets out such angelic moans that you can listen to all damn day if it means to make you feel good on your end too. Your hands can’t latch onto anything but her pillowy mounds that are magnetized within your touch as you can’t be bothered to stop due to how stress-relieving and soft those are—you’ll definitely treasure this one as Karina herself is more than a golden treasure you’re glad you can possess.

It didn’t take long before she let you take off her dress within a single motion, removing the strap off just to unveil her taut nipples all on display and you could feel your hunger coursing down your veins once you saw those buds being stiff. Of course, wanting Karina to be comfortable, you need her permission first before doing anything that can let anybody know how insatiable she is for you.

“May I?” You asked while kneeling down in level with her chest and with that actions if yours, she’s getting the grip of what you want to accomplish for both of your gratifications.

“Go ahead, baby—oh fuck! There~ ohh—shit,so good!”

Subsequent moans escape her lips as you gently nibble the bud with your teeth and then latch your tongue on it to stimulate the taut nipple, offering the best quality of pleasure possible for her. While you’re fully invested on feasting onto the succulent taste of her mounds, Karina takes some energy to let you know about her wants as you stopped and take some time to eavesdrop on her proposition.

“C-can we take this on my b-bedroom—there’s more room there for us to do this, or maybe even m-more—ahh~”

Within a speed of light, you instantly agreed onto it as she faintly smiled yet full of glee with the wants being mutual. “Of course, Karina—we should’ve thought about this sooner, honestly.”

“You’re right—but let’s g-go now. I can’t wait to see what you can do for, and to me…”

It’s only a matter of time before you settle yourselves onto the climax of the show where everything will be unveiled, within your very eyes…

---

“Oh gosh—k-keep doing that, baby…”

Constant fondling ensues as the sultry sounds escaping her lips fuels you to further keep up the pace and the momentum going. It was pleasurable for the both of you, as her constant, subtle writhing was enough of an evidence everytime you lay your fingers or your lips onto her sensitive body as you worship it, from head to toe, probably.

Even with all of these things on the way, you can’t help but think of one thing that’s been clouding your mind ever since and with that thought, it would be perfect but you need to enlighten Karina first with your proposition as it’s willing to find the best gratification between both parties.

Now laying onto the bed, you look deeply at Karina’s glowing orbs as you mutter, “I think there’s one way to make these things better, for you and me…”

Karina’s eyes lit in excitement on what you may have in store, and also, anticipation fully rules over her and so is curiosity, making up for all the elements of being a cute, curious cat that she most likely possesses.

“Hm, you’ll see, Karina—but for now—” You let herself rest on the bed as you rose up and got something onto her drawer. Karina trusts you truly as she let herself fully anticipate your possible reward and as you face her again, she notices a black strip of cloth being brought over by you as she’s perplexed with that, thinking what you may do to her.

“Why do you have that? What are you going to do with it?”

You smirk with your devilish thoughts in mind, opting to let her anticipate for the fullest yet you’ll let her know what you had in mind that probably corrupted you for so long. “You know, Rina, I’ve thought of really doing this with you but only if you want to…”

“What is it?”

You leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Maybe a blindfold will make things better, isn’t it?”

Of course, Karina’s eyes glisten with everything that’s lustful and utter anticipation as you almost feel like you’re going to submerge into kissing her but you refrain from that, sticking onto the plan that you have in store for her. Karina then rose up from her previously laid position as every movement she does with her naked body in display is just hypnotizing yet you didn’t bother yourself drooling and wrapped her head with the dark cloth that’s on your hands, forming up a blindfold that will make anything more pleasurable as her senses will took over her, letting her savor every moment possible.

“Too tight?”

“No, it’s perfectly fine…” You can see Karina’s head wandering around as her lack of vision lets her fight-and-flight response to activate but with her utmost trust bestowed towards you, she feels comfortable as she succumbs to your care and you’ll absolutely treat her with what your heart can do, at its best.

“You sure you can’t see anything, Karina?” Of course, you need to double-check and further confirm if she can’t see anything before you start the multiple things you’ll do with her as Karina nods eagerly, persuading you that all she can see are dark hues and nothing else.

“What number is this?” Still hesitant, you draw your fingers into the air and form a number ‘three’ with it to make sure Karina can’t see anything. Growing impatient, Karina whines adorably as she’s still convincing you that she can’t see anything but in reality, you’re just annoying her just to see how adorable she is and how that cuteness of hers will soon fade when you sullied her—

“Come on, can you just—ooh—oh! That’s g-good~” Karina, still on the trance of being feisty, moaned immediately once you’ve pinch her taut buds with your fingers as you slowly relaxed her slender figure onto the bed, letting her imagination be her limit as she uses her senses to attend her needs and feel such gratification. You continue fondling her mounds until your other hands roam onto her toned midriff, her smooth, creamy thighs that you definitely nuzzle on for hours and the main event, her succulent, wet pussy that’s ready to take you, more than anything.

“You like that, Karina—the way my fingers just tease you? Oh, you could just feel it and if you can see right now, you’d probably know how wet you are, dripping onto the sheets…” With her heightened senses, she muffled her moans in order to feel and hear every action you do onto her body yet she can’t, and rather find each moan increasing in volume as she voices out her delight. You could hear her pleas as she seems needy and helpless with her state, and you, yourself, can’t even bear to see her whining uncontrollably without her needs being attended to yet you need more foreplay to fire the lust that’s been igniting inside her.

“Just a bit more, Karina—just wanna let you feel how good this is…”

“I k-know but p-please, baby—I can’t t-take it anymore!”

You can’t just let her plead for eternity, and even with your own needy self being encouraged to dive into it deeper, you listen to the voices inside your head and let your hips do the work—the mere containment of each others’ needs shouldn’t be retained further, and let everything be unveiled.

With only her sense aiding up to make herself be in the momentum of peak pleasure, she could only know you’re planning something ahead of this as she yelped once she felt your tip brushing against her wet folds and immediately, her thighs quiver and she squirmed in need in response of your teasing actions. With the deprivation of her senses, especially on her vision, she could only moan (almost screams) in need once you’ve plunged your length inside her and even with only your tip being hugged by her velvety walls, you could definitely feel her tightness as it’s gripping like its last and that’s one hell to define utter gratification.

“Fuck—you’re s-so tight, Karina—shit, so fucking tight!”

“Oh god—y-you’re so big—so good, oh god! I n-never felt this good!!”

You then start to pump onto her gripping walls with a moderate pace, aiming for her to really feel the pleasure and they way how your cock moves inside her wet cunt. Not being able to see opens a lot of opportunities especially when imagining something, and that’s probably what Karina’s doing as she treasures every thrust you do, your movements only aiming to further increase her needs for you and her libido. You start off slow, and gradually, build up the pace for some time yet you want to extend that so that Karina will most likely savor every hammer you do onto her wet, squelching cunt as her moans are strong evidence that she’s loving every second of this.

With only your tip inside when you withdraw, and then slamming back in, balls-deep is such an incredible factor that Karina finds, especially when she can’t see anything and would just feel everything you do. You’re hammering onto her wet cunt hard as you savor the grip her pussy does around to your raging length and to further stimulate her, you won’t just grip her hips and fuck her with a constant, relentless pace but rather, let her feel more than just one epicenter of attraction. With deep hunger and insatiability over her, your lips latch onto her sharp collarbones and her neck, making her feel your affection alongside your constant pumps into her pussy. The stimulation she’s experiencing right now is more than phenomenal as everything you do highlights every single detail on the utter gratification she’s feeling and that alone is such a great feeling for her to feel. It didn’t take long before you fondle her mounds again for the umpteenth time to further pleasure her as both your moans resonates around the puny room that’s soon will unable to cover them all, releasing symphonies of lust in which, will be the last thing you want to encounter.

“Does it feel better, Karina?”

It took her seconds before she could come up to articulate what you’ve just said, the peak pleasure she’s feeling frying her brain and making her incapable of thinking straight. “Y-Yes, it does—oh god, w-we should’ve done t-this sooner—ahh~”

You suckle onto the porcelain skin of her neck, tasting the musky flavor of her skin as sweat dribbled over it, the heat of the moment finally being permeated onto minuscule droplets. Your harsh suckling tends to almost mark her, which she can feel as her hands roam all over your torso, specifically on your chest as she mutters, “D-Don’t mark me p-please…”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t mark you, Karina, don’t worry…”

Now, with a profound fervor and intense rush of need towards her, your hips are now starting to quickly build up a breakneck pace, maybe, capable of breaking her in half as you go ruthless, letting your animalistic urges take over you. Your constant rhythm sends both of your brains into an overdrive that no one can fix but yourselves and you may not even bother too, wanting yourselves to dive in between your devilish needs and the utter wanton needs that you’ve been longing for and been deprived of for a long time.

Having enough of showering her with kisses and the fondling of her tits that further submits her into utter submission, you then held her frame with both of your hands on her hips as you ensued a more ruthless pace, further hammering her wet cunt with no point of mercy and even returning back as her moans are now being converted to needy whimpers and cries which further fuels you to increase your quality of thrusts. Her senses being deprived is maybe a blessing in disguise, because on what you can conclude, she’s becoming more wetter and letting her imagine what could be happening—even down to the last, minute details—is just throwing gasoline onto the flames of lust and your needs.

Now, with a newly-crafted pace, another rhapsody has been orchestrated as it hits a series of wonders throughout your brain and Karina’s, as the pleasure was being the tool of forming melodies to voice out your satisfactions. She then wrapped her legs around your waist as you continue hammering her wet folds like there’s no tomorrow, her moans encouraging you for more and for the best of everything even though it isn’t needed—if you could only see the glint of lust within her eyes, and how it glows is her own, wanton needs, then you’ve probably broke loose and speaking of that, it’s coming not for long and it’s just going to be better.

With the constant barrage of uncontrollable thrusts resonating such cacophonous sounds of bodies clashing together and such angelic moans, it wasn’t long before Karina deemed herself to reach closer to her eternal bliss, chasing her orgasm with her hips gyrating onto your constantly ramming length and then—

“I’m super c-close—gahh, ooh~”

The world lit up white as she succumbs onto that bliss, despite the darkness that envelops her vision as she unshackles the beast inside her, creaming all over your length as it stains everywhere on its vicinity of your nether regions: your length, your balls, the bed sheets, and some even shooting onto the floor but those were only minimal amounts.

With the arousing sight of Karina cumming hard as she can’t manage to really control how hard her orgasm hit her, it wasn’t long before you could also feel yourself drawing close to the ring of fire. With more ruthless thrusts in order to chase yours, it’s all bound to break as you immediately find your lips latching onto hers, sharing a torrid kiss in which she eagerly reciprocated and then, everything came loose.

You bury your entire length, filling her up to the hilt as you deepen the kiss, letting her know how you’re in your approaching orgasm as you fill her up with multiple streaks of thick, warm semen that’s bound to set both yourselves onto the state of paramount bliss, in which, it does. You pull out of the torrid kiss as the muffled moans from earlier are being vocally being heard, finally voicing out how great the both of you are feeling throughout your orgasm and her walls being painted white.

Now, with your impending orgasm, you slowly limp beside her as you recover from your high as does Karina, breathing heavily, chest heaving for air. You then turn onto her and remove her blindfold in one, swift motions and god, she looks ethereal, like a beautiful butterfly emerging from its cocoon as her beauty never fails to amaze you, let alone adore her in levels you can’t comprehend. She smiled widely as her endearing eyes greets you, feeling satisfied that you’ve dumped a nice volume of load inside her cunt that she’s been longing for so long now.

“Oh, that was w-way better than I expected…”

The both of you exchange smiles as delight can be felt coursing down your veins, and you immediately voiced out how great the experience was. “See? I know you’ll love these kinds of things—I told you…”

The two of you shared another intimate kiss, but this time, it’s fully passionate as the ardor between both parties ignite and not so long after, she pulled out of your lips’ embrace as you hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body complimenting yours as the intense surge of adrenaline of pure passion is just clouding both your minds, unable to find out of such a wholesome cuddling session.

“Thanks for c-cumming inside me—I really wanted that for so long.”

You scoff, feeling a little shy yet in all arms in terms of giving her what she wanted. “No problem, Karina—you felt great too… Hah…”

With silence permeating the air on the once lust-filled room, the both of you stared at each other endearingly before Karina thought that something’s not right and suddenly, a spark ignites inside her—

“Oh gosh—the chicken! We totally forgot about it!!”

And well, gladly your hunger met a hindrance, and guess what? It was all for the better as you get to bless yourself with the treatment of Karina’s insatiability and that alone, is a five-star meal you’re willing to savor and cherish for the time being.

Perhaps, maybe treat you to another, if given the right time…

#kinknuary 2024 #aespa smut #karina smut #aespa x male reader #karina x male reader

1K notes · View notes

calicoheartz · 13 days

Text

Embracing Truth ; Paige Bueckers ┈﹒

꣑୧ — summary | paige helps her gf come out of the closet 💐💌❤️

wc ; 870

— warnings | smalll hints of homophobia , anxiety related topics , mainly fluff + established relationship

my master list ㇀♡

1) i am sooo sorry for not responding to ur request anon! I accidentally deleted it from my drafts :(

a/n : this was so sweet and cute to write 🥰 this definitely healed something in me. Enjoy ◡̈

Paige sat on the edge of the bed, watching as her girlfriend, y/n, paced nervously back and forth between the blondes dorm. She could tell something was weighing heavily on your mind, and her instincts told her it was something serious.

You and Paige had been dating since your second year of college, meeting during one of your shared classes. You knew you had always been into girls, often experimenting with them in highschool. But there was one problem, your parents didn't know.

They weren't necessarily homophobic per say, but to be fair the conversation of you being gay never was a topic of conversation. But the idea of one day having to tell them terrified you, especially since you knew the relationship with your girlfriend was becoming serious.

“Y/n, what's wrong?” Paige asks, snapping you out of your thoughts as she stood up and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop your pacing.

You took a deep breath, looking up at your girlfriend with tears welled in your eyes managing to croak out , “I don't know Paige, I really need to tell my parents… I need to tell them about us. But I'm just afraid that they won't accept me, accept us. What if they kick me out? Disown me??”

Paige’s heart ached at the sudden fear that lingered in your voice, as she pulled you into a warm, comforting hug, holding you tightly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be right by your side every step of the way. We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that Paige would be there for you, and be by your side. “Okay,” you whispered, “Okay, let’s do this.”

A few days had passed since you had the conversation with your girlfriend, part of you wanted to procrastinate for as long as possible, because they would eventually find out regardless of when they were told. But your subconscious knew that now was the time, especially since you were serious about the blonde. You had to embrace the truth, your truth.

You and Paige drove over to your parents house one Friday evening, in the hopes of possibly sharing this important news over dinner. You were a bundle of nerves, but the blonde held your hand reassuringly as the two of you began to walk towards the front door. You took a pause, hesitating to ring the doorbell , after gathering your thoughts, you gently pressed on the round button in front of you, revealing a small chime in reply. You were soon greeted by your parents, who were surprised but happy to see them.

“y/n, Paige, what brings you here?” your mother chirps. Hugging the both of you before inviting you two inside.

As you walked through your house, skimming past the dining room and making your way towards the living room, you plopped down on the couch before breaking the silence, “We have something we need to talk to you both about” your voice trembling slightly.

Once the rest of them had joined you on the couch and surrounding seats, you took a deep breath and began to speak again. “Mom, Dad, you know how I’ve known Paige since freshman year of highschool? And how we’ve spent a lot of time with each other since then..” the two of them nodded in response before you continued, “well.. I realized that I like her more than a friend way. What I’m trying to say- I’m saying is that I’m with Paige. Like we’re dating..” your voice trailing off before facing them both in the eye, as your eyes had been previously wandering and focusing on different objects in the area. “Im gay.”

There was a brief moment of silence as your parents processed the information. You feared the absolute worst as the seconds of silence passed by, but then you mom spoke up, her voice filled with love and acceptance. “Sweetheart, we love you no matter what. We just want you to be happy.”

You couldn't hold back your tears as you hugged them both, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. Paige wrapped her arms around them all, feeling grateful to be a part of such a loving and accepting family.

After the initial shock wore off, your parents welcomed Paige with open arms, eager to get to know her now officially as their daughter's girlfriend. You all spent the evening talking and laughing, and you couldn't have felt more loved and accepted.

As the night came to a close, and as the both of you drove back to the blondes dorm, you couldn't stop smiling. Your heart was full of love for Paige and your family, as you squeezed her hand as a way to silently say I love you.

“I love you, P,” you whispered quietly, your voice filled with emotion. “I love you too, y/n” Paige replied, squeezing your hand back gently. “I'm so proud of you.”

And in that moment, that's when you knew that no matter what challenges you both faced in the future, as long as you had your girlfriend by your side, you could handle anything.

as always, thank you guys so much for reading!! don't forget to leave reqs :)

#wlw #wlw imagine #wcbb #my hcs #headcannons #paige bueckers #wcbb x reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #wlw community #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #iowa wbb #kate martin #uconn wbb

202 notes · View notes

thoughtfulbearpanda · 4 months

Text

February 2024 Pick a Card

Piles 1 -> 2 -> 3

Hi there! This is a timeless reading, so remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. Remember that you have free will and nothing is set in stone. Yes, this is intended for entertainment purposes but if any serious topics that come up in these readings that you find yourself resonating with, please seek aid or professional help if you are inclined to do so. Also, if anything in this reading is triggering for you don't feel the need to continue reading; please prioritize your mental and emotional health.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

PILE I

Okana Oracle: Reconcile, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Whip & Heart, Tarot: 6 of cups rx, 2 of wands, 4 of cups, the Tower rx, 9 of cup rx

What I see you going through in the month of February pile 1 is you walking away from something. With the 6oc rx coupled with the 2ow there may be a decision you will have to make, and this decision could lead to you letting go of past connections, I’m getting ‘leaving the nest' for some of you. Some of you could be moving away, beginning your own chapter of life solo; some of you could be traveling overseas in the month of February, or just simply moving out of house and getting your own place.

There is also this aspect of fear, not really knowing what you’re getting into, there is the sense of naivety. This could be towards a new job, maybe a change of career path or change in career studies for those who are still in school. This could be a small few of you but some of you may be weighing the decision to drop out of college or school. College/school/work may no longer be as exciting for as when you first started and you may be thinking about just calling it quits, but are delaying this decision because you may not have a backup plan and/or you don’t want to disappoint your loved ones. It’s like ‘I no longer enjoy this.’; ‘What if there is more for me out there?’; ‘What will my loved ones think?’; ‘What if I don’t have a back up plan and this ends being a mistake?’

Life is not full of easy choices. Every day we are proven that life is short. For those who resonate with the school/college message, I am not here to tell you what you should do BUT do what you believe is best for you. College is not for every one, but if dropping out is an option you are considering than have a back up plan ready for when you do. Figure out what you are going to do afterwards. Don’t just dive into this particular decision blindly.

I see you going through transformation pile 1. Some of you may have felt like you lost your spark, your joy, your purpose in life. I see you gaining that back in the month of February. You are going to start making decisions that make YOU happy, that bring YOU joy. February is the month where you consider how to get closer to your ultimate goal in life, and how you can rediscover your sense of purpose.

Shadow Message: Reconcile - “love yourself for only then can you love others” -> What is something that you find yourself struggling to let go of? What is this thing that is depleting you? Is it a job? Is is friends? Family? A partner, past or present? Do you find yourself pouring so much of yourself into this thing and/or person (people) that you barely have enough to pour into yourself? To whomever this resonates, it is time to take a look at your current attachments and come to terms with whether it is healthy or if you are simply a victim of codependency. Is this thing or person feeding off of you? If so, then it is time to cut the cord on that. Do some 'spring cleaning'. For some, it may not even a person or a job. Sometimes it just simply clearing out the old within your space, getting rid of old clothes, trinkets, furniture etc., to make room for the new. Find what is weighing you down emotionally, spiritually, mentally; find what is depleting your happiness and take the necessary steps to rid yourself of it.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Whip & Heart - 'Sacrifice' & 'Love' -> Whip: "Everyone must pay. Nothing worthwhile or lasting was ever achieved by simply wanting it to be ours...sacrifice and work move things further than desire alone." Love: "There is an infinite supply of love for us to draw on, whether from platonic or romantic relationships, living or dead...but if we often lose ourselves in the need to nurture others, hiding in them to avoid being in ourselves...we must learn to love ourselves so deeply we find joy in solitude instead of heartbreak."

Final Messages:

"What is past is gone, what is hoped for is absent, for you is the hour for which you are."

"Wisdom outweighs strength."

"A snake that you can see does not bite."

"You cannot blindfold a man and expect him to ferry you across the river."

"Whoever stands in the need of honey should not be afraid of bees."

~additional messages: unexpected good fortune, generosity, possible travel, changes, postponement, disappointment and opposition

**PROVERBS 15:13 and DANIEL 10:6 for some of you**

PILE II

Okana Oracle: Grit & Confide, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Rider rx & Clouds, Tarot; Page of swords, Queen of wands, 9 of cups, 7 of swords rx, & ace of wands Rx

The month of February is going to be very abundant for you pile 2. I see you socializing and being so vibrant and free, being the talk of the town. I'm getting 'social butterfly'. This month is going to be raining down blessings for you with the 9oc here. I see you filled with so much gratitude and happiness. Wishes will be coming true for you in the month of February; whatever you have been wishing for, praying for, hoping for, it will come true. I see you getting that dream job, dream car, dream house. Whatever you've been wishing for, you will be receiving it this month. Some of you could be starting a new project or job, and I see you being so excited about it. You have this eager, 'go getter' energy.

With the QoW here, a feminine figure could be significant for some you. This person could be mature, or just has a lot experience and wisdom under their belt. Who knows how to work a room, use their charm and charisma to achieve their goals. I see this person being some sort of a mentor figure to you this month. Someone that will help you harness this vibrant, off the walls energy that you may have. I see you shadowing this person, soaking up all the knowledge that she has to offer. *Be sure to take head from whatever advice this person gives you*

For some of you, there could be some snakes in your mists. In the month of February you may find yourself being on the receiving end of a lot of 'evil eye'. I see you being highly favored in the month of February, and with that comes with a lot of jealousy and attempts at sabotage. You may end up encountering a lot two-faced people; those who smile in your face but are quick to pray and revel in your downfall. Some of you may be up for promotion or have been promoted - BE CAREFUL. Be wary of those who are quick to befriend and try to get into your circle. It's like that saying 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' - that is the mentality of these haters toward you. Just know that secrets don't stay buried and will eventually come to light. Karma never misses, so whatever these potential sabotagers have planned will back fire. You are protected by the Divine and your Ancestors.

The month of February, some of you may find yourself consumed with the drive to get something started. There may be an idea/project that you are trying to get off the ground to this point where you are obsessing over it. You are trying and trying and becoming more and more frustrated because it's not going the way you planned. With the ace of wands rx, you are being called to take a break. Step away from the idea/project and allow yourself to breathe. When we are so hyper focused on something, it can become easy for use to become consumed by to the point where we forget why we started said project/idea; and in some instances lose our passion fro what we do. That's why in moments of frustration we need to take a step back, put on pause on things. If this resonates, Spirit is prompting you to take a look out where you are, how far you've come, and remember why you started. Stop and smell the roses. Allow yourself to look at it from a different perspective.

For others, there could be a whole idea that you abandoned completely because it never got off the ground, someone may have told you that idea is not good, or maybe you felt like it could never be. Maybe it's time to revisit that project/idea from a new, fresher lens.

Shadow Message: Grit & Confide - Grit: "when a needle falls into a well many people will look into the well, but very few will go down after it" -> Take a look at yourself this month and ask yourself 'Am I biting off more than I can chew?', 'Am I involving myself in projects or places that do not pertain to me?', 'If I am doing all these things: why?' If you find yourself spiraling or just taking on so much, unnecessarily, maybe it's time to take a step back from it. It's good to have drive to have that grit/conviction but not to the point where it is at your own detriment. It can be easy, being caught up in 'the grind' and all but we also have to remember to take breaks; Confide: "all things are good to eat, but not all things are good to say" -> February is looking to be an abundant month for you, but remember to not get caught up in the high. You may be on the receiving end gossip, but try not to perpetuate the same behaviors as your haters. If find yourself engaging gossip with others ask yourself 'Is it true?', 'Is it kind?', 'Are these people doing the same thing to me behind my back?', 'Will they go back an twist my words to said person?', 'Why are they trying to get me involved gossip to begin with?'. Remember: Karma. Never. Misses.

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Rider rx & Clouds - 'Intention' & 'Denial' -> Rider rx: "Don't be hasty, Baby. Before taking action, we must be clear on our intention. And be certain our actions align with that intention." Clouds: "Clouds can be information that is hidden and outcomes that are uncertain...we must know truth before we know miracles, and what is before we know what can be."

Final Messages:

"Not to know is bad, to not wish to know is worse."

"Fire surrounded by elders cannot burn you."

"Luck at times will visit a fool, but it never sits down with him."

"Truth cannot be hidden forever beneath evil."

"He who wakes up early in the morning receives bundle of blessings."

~additional messages: good luck coming to you, harmony, property, achievement, love, dark-haired woman who is strong, helpful and attractive, warning of loss of friendship

**EXODUS 24:15 for some of you**

PILE III

Okana Oracle: Harmony & Reconcile, Grandma Baby Lenormand: Fish & Mice, Tarot: 10 of swords, 2 of cups, Knight of wands, 5 of pentacles rx, ace of swords rx

Are some of you in a relationship, pile 3? Or is there someone on your mind? Cause with the 2oc here there is a potential for love to blossom for you in the month of February. You could have met this person or will meet this person and you guys hit right off the bat. The knight of wands indicates that you and this person will 'click' so fast, and so unexpectedly. This person could be a fire sign; they could be someone who is vibrant, and has a lot of energy and passion to them. They could be 'go-getter', someone who acts before they thinks, who likes to dive into things head-first. And it doesn't necessarily have to be a romance either. This could be someone who you will end up having a genuine bond and connection with. This person could be a bit of foil to you if you are more on the shy side, or this is someone who will match your energy.

Some of you may have dealt with betrayal in the past, like been backstabbed by a person/people that you've trusted. This has possibly resulted you in having trust issues, you questioning the motives of those who try to get close to you. This connection coming in is going to help you heal those wounds. This connection coming is someone you can trust and they are going to prove that to you. They will be patient with you. Maybe this person coming in has probably dealt with same thing, and this connection will be healing for both of you.

For others of you, you may have fallen on hard times in the past pile 3. Some of you may have dealt with a lot of spiritual warfare. What I mean by that, is that you may have been feeling empty spiritually. Doubting your religion, your ancestors, spirit guides, or even the concept of spirituality itself. *With everything that has been going on in the world, I can understand* Maybe you've hanging on to this concept of religion or spirituality in hopes it will make your life better because that's what you've been told, only to be met with disappointment after disappointment. Maybe recently you've had one too many disappointments and began to question yourself: 'Am I doing something wrong?' 'Why isn't working?' 'Am I just playing myself for a fool?'

I see you starting to come back to that pile 3, because you can't ignore the call forever. I see rekindling your relationship with the Divine, with God, your Ancestors, whomever you believe in. That tarot deck that you've put away? You're dusting off and getting back into the swing of things. That altar that you abandoned, walked away from? I see resetting it and familiarizing yourself with your guides, with your gifts. And honestly, sometimes walking away is needed pile 3. It's okay to take a break for a while, reconnect with yourself, ground yourself, and find your way back to it eventually.

Shadow Message: Harmony & Reconcile - Harmony: "where there is life, there is always hope" -> You could be dealing with bouts of loss or despair in February. Have you lost all hope of being happy? Content? Have you lost hope in ever being able to trust again? Have you become a glass half-empty, glass half-full kind of person? It's time to confront those doubts, pile 3. Time to challenge those negative beliefs you've become accustomed to. Make the effort of bringing harmony and positivity back into your life; Reconcile: "love yourself for only then can you love others" -> It is time to heal pile 3. Heal those wounds. Hanging onto that hurt is giving the person who hurt you more power over you. What is something you have trouble letting go of? Is it the betrayal? The backstabbing? Is it becomes you should have saw it coming? Are you ready to let it go? Are you ready to move on?

Message(s) from the Ancestors: Fish & Mice - 'Gifts' & 'Fear' -> Fish: "If we give birth to what is within us, what is within us will save us. If we do not give birth to what is within us, what is within us will destroy us." Mice: "If we feed fear, we will be eaten alive."

Final Messages:

"You can kill the identity of a man on earth, but you cannot kill his spirit."

"Respect begets respect."

"Even as the archer loves the arrow that flies, so too he loves the bow that remains in his hands."

"The path to wisdom is a lifelong commitment."

"It is the one who lives in the house that knows where the roof leaks."

~additional messages: friendship, success, business meetings, reliable friend, conflict, love, affair, worry and fear

**JONAH 1:17 for some of you**

That's all I have for you! Thanks for reading! Stay safe, stay blessed!

Asé

#tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #pick a card #black tarot reader

231 notes · View notes

ja3yun · 5 months

Text

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.5

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: smut(ish), mdni, cheating (i'm sorry), almost handjobs, heavy makeout, alcohol, serious longing, ynjake make stupid decisions, lmk if there is anything else.

wc: 4.7k+

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

a/n: hey...hi...how we all doing. listen if you hate me after this chapter I get it </3. I did leave this on a cliffhanger but the next part is the finale! i love my little pookie yn she's trying her best she just can't handle her liquor (she's so real, so me). hope you all enjoy and see you for the finale next week!

masterlist

The shower hits off your skin as you finally have time to process everything that’s happened over the last few days; seeing Jaeyun again, coming to terms with his engagement, getting forgiveness from him, and his dad’s words. It’s a lot to process. The one thing you can’t seem to understand though is his and Yeoreum’s relationship. When you first arrived it was as if everything was sunshine and rainbows with the way she was talking. Her nonchalant way of saying he got over you quickly, how they’re soulmates, but that's not what his actions are saying and definitely not what they’re argument was eluding to. Your mind scrambles to piece it all together, like, maybe it’s different because you’re here and once the wedding is over and you leave they’ll go back to the way Yeoreum painted them.

But he kissed your hand. He made all those CDs of your old mixtapes. He told you he loved you.

The warm droplets act as a blanket around you providing comfort and warmth as you run your fingers through your wet and soapy hair. Thinking about him just made more memories rise to the surface. How when you got stressed with exams he would make you take a shower with him and he would innocently wash your hair for you. His fingers would rub your scalp as if to ease the pain your brain was in from cramming so many topics in it at once. With his chest flushed against your back, he raked his hands through your hair and made sure he didn’t miss a bit. “I’m practicing. For when we’re old and brittle and have to look after each other.” He would say so casually. That was the thing about Jaeyun, he always made you feel like no matter what happened, his love for you was eternal.

You turn the shower off and step carefully onto the mat, but as a chap sounds from the door you jump and almost lose your balance. Gripping tightly onto the counter to steady yourself you curse under your breath and wrap a towel around your body. “Yes?”

“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re going out tonight.” Eunseo’s pretty voice travels through the door. After confirming it was her you open the door and look at her confused. “Me, you, Heeseung, Jake, and Yeoreum are going out. Like a joint bachelor-bachelorette thingy.” She claps excitedly.

“Didn’t they already have their parties? You got really stressed when the inflatables you planned went to your elderly neighbour.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the incident. The delivery of nonsensical blowup dicks and penis straws went to Mrs. Kim, a 87-year-old lady, who lives next door to Eunseo and she, unfortunately, opened it. Their relationship was never the same.

Eunseo scowls at the thought, “Please don’t remind me, she thinks I’m a sex pest or something now.” Her hand raised to stop you from saying any further as she carried on, “But this is just to let loose. After that walk and shit, I think they need it.” Nodding you agree and she smiles, “Then get ready! I’ve looked out your fit.” That could only mean one thing: you were going to be cold tonight.

After getting dressed you trail behind Eunseo you walk into the living room to find the rest waiting for you both which seems to be a theme this past week. Eunseo apologises like she always does and then hurries everyone as if she isn’t the reason the taxi fare is already up by £20.

Heeseung puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to whisper, “You look so good. If there wasn’t a bro code…” he trails off and leaves it there with a cheeky smile. To be honest you felt hot, probably the hottest you have in any of your best friend’s clothes. She had looked out a black corset top with lacey detailing at the side, a white mini skirt with perfectly placed black bows on either side of your hips, and black thigh-high boots that were not the easiest to get on. This outfit called for your hair to be curled and eyeliner so sharp that it could open envelopes.

Nudging him you laugh and keep walking, “You couldn’t handle it.” You playfully sway your hips and Heeseung pretends to fall to his knees, a hand clutching his chest. When little moments like this happen, the world suddenly feels like it’s aligned. Like you had your old life back.

The taxi drive is short, and full of chatter and excitement. Yeoreum and Jaeyun seem to have made up, or at least enough to fake it for the journey, her laughter and his hand on her thigh being your indications.

The club is busy, filled with people your age and younger just trying to get drunk. Thursdays are always the best day to go out; it’s cheaper and has a more student-based clientele than on a Saturday when creepy men in their 40s come out from the shadows. Eunseo flashes her signature smile and you guys are let in without any hesitation. You look at her skimpy outfit and think that might have helped the situation.

Music and heat hit you all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible. The musky smell of alcohol and smoke from the machines feels like a time machine back to your second year of college, a mixture of shame and fondness washing over you as you remember the many hook-ups and walks of shame you did.

Eunseo grabs your hand and raises it as she leads you to the bar to get the first of too many drinks tonight. She orders two double vodkas with lemonade and two baby guinnesses, they've become your favourites over the years. As the bartender goes to make them she turns to you, “Are you going to make your move on Heeseung tonight?” A loud sharp laugh leaves your mouth at her question, she really wasn’t letting this go.

“Eunseo, he isn’t my type I have told you this.” The shots come first and you clink it on the bar and shoot it down. “He’s hot but I’m not interested.”

“Those two sentences don’t go together, babe. And what’s one night? You’ve been with plenty of uglier men than him.” Her eyes are on Heeseung at the other side of the bar, buying drinks for him and the bride and groom.

“I don’t know,” You desperately try to come up with an excuse as to why you won’t fuck him. It’s a boundary you can’t cross but if you tell her that you need to tell her about you and Jaeyun’s history. Your drinks are now in front of you both and you use that as the perfect excuse, “Come on, let’s dance.”

One hand holding your drink and the other holding Eunseo’s hand you lead her to a spot and start to move your hips to the music, letting all the tension you’ve felt go. A genuine smile creeps on your face and you down your drink. And another. And another.

Shots. Doubles. Test tubes. Cocktails. You’re surprised you’re still standing.

The lights are blurred as you laugh at nothing, jumping around and splashing your drink on innocent bystanders along the way. Eunseo is off finding herself a suitor for the night so it leaves you on your own for a while. That is until familiar hands make their way to your hips and hold you still.

Your head slowly turns around, scared that if you go too fast you might vomit. A concerned look from Jaeyun is what you are met with as he speaks to you but with the music and your drunkenness you can’t hear him, instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and giggle like you’re in high school again after seeing his face. “Jaeyun.” His name comes out with a laugh, “Come to dance with me?” Your head tilts, your eyes shut, and your mouth pouts.

“Y/N, come on sit down with us.” His head nods to the booth his fiance and best man are sitting at, their eyes on you both. Sober you would agree and keep your distance, but drunk you is in charge and you know fine well how that goes. She doesn’t make your life that easy.

“Baby” you whine, “One dance? Pretty please?” Your bottom lip hides your top one and Jaeyun almost falls to his knees. You’re so cute like this he could eat you up, or eat you out if he was in different circumstances. His eyes dart to Heeseung in a pleading manner and he seems to catch the gist, pulling Yeoreum to the bar for another drink.

Jaeyun gives in. “One dance, and then you’re sitting down.” His hands gently squeeze your hips like he used to when he was warning you.

“On your lap?” A smirk slips onto your face and your free hand plays with his hair.

Jaeyun blows out air and looks up to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down. “No, Y/N.” He speaks to the sky before finding the courage to speak directly at you again, “On a seat.”

You were making this so difficult for him, if it wasn’t your outfit it was the reckless way you were behaving as if his fiance wasn’t just meters away. The skirt that was already short was now basically halfway up your ass and his hands longed to be placed there. You’re the bain of his existence and all his morals in this moment.

You bring your hands back to your chest, clutching the drink and downing it before throwing the plastic away and reaching up, doing some sort of dancing but to Jaeyun it’s more like one of those animal mating calls. You’re calling him to you and he’s seconds away from answering. His hands let go of your waist and hover over your arm, “Come on, let’s go sit dow-”

“You promised one dance and I have yet to see you dance Mr. Sim.” Your words slur but the tone is authoritative yet playful. Awkwardly, he grants your wish and dances with you, aware of where is appropriate to touch and what’s not but when you grab his hands to place them on your ass he squeezes impulsively, bringing you closer to him. “That’s it.” You say so innocently but it has his two heads fuzzy with need.

“Princess, we can’t dance like this.” Despite his words his hands never leave your backside. Here comes that pout again decorating your face and your eyes twinkle.

“But I’ve been a good girl.”

Oh fuck.

Jaeyun growls and squeezes your plump cheeks, the action pressing his cock against your lower abdomen. You jump a little asking for him to pick you up like you used to do and his mind is so overcome with desire for you his hands slide to the back of your thighs and hoist you up. Smiling proudly you look down at him, now slightly taller from the height he’s holding you, you lean into his neck and brush your glossy lips over his sensitive spot. Even after all these years and with more alcohol in your system than an aunt at Christmas you’re still aware of Jaeyun’s likes and wants.

Jaeyun carries you to the back of the club which was basically in pure darkness, the only light coming from the emergency exit sign and a passing strobe light. Every sensible fiber of his being is lost, the only coherent thought he has is to listen to his heart calling out for you.

He perches you up on the thin bar that’s screwed into the wall, the metal cold against your skin but at this moment you couldn’t care less. Your lips are now on his neck, kissing your way down to his shoulder and his chest rumbles with a moan. “Princess I’ve missed you so much.” His hands hold you steady, thumb rubbing against the lace on your corset.

“Missed you more.” You puff out, eyes locking onto his. “I love you”. The phrase slips out of your mouth purposefully for the first time in 4 years and Jaeyun’s eyes flash with something, something electric and his mouth is on yours quicker than lightning. His lips that you’ve craved finally find their way back home to you. “I love you so much.” You whisper, your lips always connected.

Grabbing his t-shirt you pull him in closer, scared that if you loosen your grip he’ll be gone forever. He feels your desperate touch and his tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he grinds his hips into your core. He uses your moaning as a gateway into your mouth, his tongue exploring around and coming into contact with your soft kitten licks. Just as before, a growl leaves him, kissing you so passionately and deeply. “Love you so fucking much, baby.”

His words fuel you to lose all sense of control and your hands slide down his torso to his jeans, pawing over his concealed cock. You missed Jaeyun more than anything, and god did you miss his dick and how it was tailor-made just for you.

As your hands slip into his jeans he stops kissing you and looks at you deep into your soul, begging for it, and then he really looks at you. You’re drunk, eyes glazed, you might not remember this, or worse, regret it. He's also doing the one thing he promised never to do to any woman. Cheat. His heart stops as he comes to terms with what he has to do.

“Princess, we can’t.” Reluctantly he grabs your arm and pulls it, the warmth of your palm gone, leaving his cock twitching and aching for you. You’re confused, looking between your hand and his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” The innocent question paired with your bambi eyes almost has him saying no and letting this continue but he shakes his head and holds your hand in his.

“Never. You’re such a good girl, yeah?” You smile and go to touch him again but he grabs your face with his hands, the action stopping you. “We just can’t.” You whisper a small ‘why?’ almost inaudible, “Because, baby, you’re drunk and this is complicated. I want you so much, please don’t think I don’t.” He assures you as he sees the tears fill your eyes. His lips kiss yours again and he’s playing with fire but if tomorrow you sober up and don’t speak to him again, he has to have one last kiss.

He picks you up and places you down so your feet are on the sticky club ground. “Let’s get you back to the house, okay Princess?” He whispers and turns around but your small hand is suddenly on his cheek, guiding it to face you. “What is it, love?” his hand lays over yours as he melts into your touch.

“Please don’t marry her.”

____________

A dull pain spreads across your forehead as the sun infiltrates the room rudely awakening you. There is a taste in your mouth but you can’t quite place it, it’s strange yet familiar. You don’t remember much, and what you do remember is blurry and without a timeline. There were shots, vodkas, and dancing, these are the only memories you have.

Looking around the room with squinted eyes you try to adjust to the light, it’s warm and you’re sweating which makes you feel disgusting and sticky. A groan leaves your lips and that’s when Eunseo turns to you, the first time you’ve noticed her since your sleep was disturbed. Her face is stern as her body swivels in the chair to face you.

“Good night?” She says bitterly. Oh, you’ve definitely done something wrong. Quick, think about everything, shots, too many more shots, dancing, a dark room? You shake your head to align your thoughts but nothing is coming. Eunseo scoffs and strides over to your bed, sitting down on the end of the bed. “You really don’t remember?” Her tone is accusatory with a glint of sass. Now you really had to think about what she was referring to.

“Um, I remember you going to hook up with that tall guy with the pretty lips?” Maybe you could get her to speak about that instead of whatever awful thing you had done.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the hangxiety kicked in tenfold. “Think harder.” She demands, her whole body now facing you with her legs tucked under her, “When I was hooking up with the hottie?”

Think.

“I-” You had no answer for her, maybe after a couple of paracetamol and some coffee you could then hazard a guess but for now it was a distant memory buried under the alcohol that is admittedly still in your veins. “Eunseo what did I do?”

The question causes silence and the room has tension so thick not even a knife could slice through it. “Are you really sure you don’t remember?” She’s mad. Really mad.

Okay, so you got to the bar, had drinks, got drunk, danced with people, kissed Jaeyun, got in a tax-

Kissed Jaeyun.

That’s the taste in your mouth. It’s him. Dancing with him, kissing him, touching him, craving every inch of him, and Eunseo knows. She saw it.

Your rapid heartbeat is going so fast you think it’s stopped. Your face shifts from confusion to guilt and shock. “See! Now you remember! Please explain yourself.” You couldn’t. There was no excuse to be said without blurting out every detail of your life and more importantly, your life with Jaeyun.

Stuttering you look around wondering if there is any way to escape this conversation, maybe a secret passage that you can teleport from. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a way out. You had made your bed so now you have to lay in it. “Eunseo I-”

“No you know what, let me speak.” She stands up and clasps her hands together, “I can forgive you, just tell me you were so drunk you thought it was someone else, please.”

“It’s more complicated-” She cut you off again.

“I know he’s hot, okay? But to kiss my sister’s fiance like that, you don’t have any shame huh?” Her tone is spiteful as she spits at you trying to wrack up any rationality that you can muster.

“Eunseo please just listen to me.” I stand up and reach for her but she pulls away. Her demeanor is standoffish as she places her left hand on her hip. “It’s so much more than you think.”

“Oh, what? It was love at first sight? You thought it was Heeseung? Taking advantage of the fact they’re fighting?” A step forward from her has you stepping back, “Fucking tell me, Y/N because I am struggling deeply here.”

“He’s my ex.”

Her body stills, her hands laid flat in front of her as she processes your words. “Not your ex that…” she trails off thinking, her eyes following an invisible pattern on the ceiling as she tries to work it out, “Not that ex you spoke about? Surely not?”

Every inch of you wants to pretend it isn’t. Pretend that it's another fling and it means nothing to you but as you stare into your best friend's eyes you realise you can’t lie to her, not anymore.

“That ex.” You breathe out and sit down. “Eunseo, please hear me out.”

The thing about Eunseo is that she has always been understanding but as her gaze burns into yours you wonder if she’ll be so kind. Her weight sits next to you as she sighs and it’s your opportunity to speak. “When you invited me, I didn’t know. I didn’t know Jaeyun would walk in beside Yeoreum.” Your voice is pleading with her to believe you but her face remains the same so you continue, “I was so drunk last night I think instincts kicked in. I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

She scoffs, “What was your plan, hm? Did you see him and go ‘oh yeah I’ll get him back easy’”

“Never. It has never been on my radar. It was the drink. I-”

Eunseo interrupts you by sticking her hand in your face, “You still love him, don’t you?” You can’t even look at her, just the swirling mix of her words and the memory of Yeoreum during her argument with Jaeyun swirling in your mind.

You nod, “Listen, I am not trying to break them up, me and Jaeyun haven’t spoken much. We’ve reconciled and that’s about it.” It wasn’t completely a lie, you wouldn’t tell her about the whispered I love you he shared when you saw him on the first night, or the mixtapes and handholding, she didn’t have to know. “I’m not breaking up this marriage.”

“Wow, so kind of you,” Eunseo scoffs, “Listen, I love you but I need you out of here.” Her tone is less venomous but still pointed. “Your relationship with him, from what Yeoreum has told me about his ex, isn’t simple. It’s deep. It’s dangerous to my sister’s happiness, and she will always be my priority.” Your best friend’s face is hard yet holds a fondness in it.

“I understand that, I wanted to leave earlier I just didn’t know when the right time was.”

“Now.” She stands up and crosses her arms as she faces you, “Now is the right time, Y/N. The longer you’re here the longer I have to worry about Yeoreum being left at the alter.”

“Eunseo he won’t-”

“Of course he fucking will, Y/N. He would leave my sister for you. That has been made perfectly clear.”

Wait. The argument Mr. Sim tore you away from, that’s what she was meaning. “What are you talking about?” You feign ignorance hoping she knows more than you do which seemingly it does. “What did he say?”

“He said enough. Look, Y/N,” She pinches her eyebrows, “I love you, and I know deep within me this isn’t your fault but please, go home. For me. For Yeoreum.”

You suck in your bottom lip to stop you from crying. If you lose Eunseo you’ll be right back to where you used to be, alone because of your own stupid mistakes. You rub your hands on your thigh and breathe out slowly, gathering your thoughts and calculating your next moves. There is animosity and hurt in the air and it breaks you. “Eunseo I-”

“I know, Y/N. But please. Don’t take Jake away from my sister.”

“What Jaeyun and I had, it’s so…” Pausing you stand and look at her, “It’s so difficult to explain. I don’t need you to forgive me, but please don’t tell anyone.” Your voice is above a whisper as you plead with her, “If you’re the only one who knows please keep it that way. He loves your sister and he is so happy. That is all I’ve ever wanted.”

A sorrow flashes over Eunseo’s face as you sob. No one in this world will understand the love between you and Jaeyun, not until they’ve experienced it themselves. You make your way around the room and gather your things, ready to leave him once again.

____

Unbeknownst to you, two doors down Heeseung and Jaeyun are having a similar conversation. You seem to be the topic of conversation the day before the wedding, just like Heeseung had warned you of.

Jaeyun is sitting on the bed Yeoreum refused to sleep in last night, his eyes tired as he tells Heeseung the details of what transpired last night. “She asked me not to marry Reum.” He breathes out slowly.

Heeseung’s body turns slowly, his eyes wide and head at a slant. His flabber has been gasted and as he looks at his best friend’s sullen look he only has one question. “And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jaeyun’s voice is defensive like the answer should be obvious, but really he just wants to use this chance so Heeseung will tell him what to do. He loves you so much so that as soon as you asked him not to marry Yeoreum he almost instantly broke the wedding off. But he’s not that cruel, he knows there are too many people that will be hurt. If he really was going to call off this wedding he had to do it as respectfully as possible.

But did he even want to call off the wedding? Yeoreum needed him.

“I mean 'and' are you going to cancel the wedding?” Heeseung’s words prevent Jaeyun from answering internally. “Yeoreum isn’t exactly speaking with you right now, she was putting on a brave face in the club but look,” he gestures to the still-made bed, “She can’t even sleep in the same room as you. And you literally can’t see anything but Y/N when she’s around. I don't know what you said when you argued with her but it must have been bad.”

“I’m fucked, Hee.” Jaeyun plants his face into his hands and rubs vigorously into his eyes, trying to shake up his brain to make sense of it all. “Reum asked me yesterday after the walk if I would leave her for my ex.”

The sentence piqued Heeseung’s interest once again, and he wondered what his friend would have confessed. He doesn’t say a word, opting to slowly sit next to Jaeyun. “I-” Jaeyun starts to speak again, “I told her...” The pause is a cause of concern and Heeseung leans forward to try and make eye contact with Jaeyun.

“Jake do NOT tell me you told her you’d leave her high and dry for Y/N?” Heeseung’s hands are gripped to his knees as he holds his breath. The stillness and lack of response were enough of an indication of what happened for Heeseung to shut his eyes and sigh, “What the fuck are you thinking? That’s cold, mate.”

“I don’t fucking know, Hee. I love Yeoreum, she helped me over the past few years to finally get back to a state where I felt like part of myself again-”

“Do you love her?” Looking straight into Jaeyun’s eyes, Heeseung asks a question that has been on his mind since the moment he found out Jaeyun proposed. “Answer me this honestly, did you propose to her because you thought it would help you move on from Y/N? Or because you genuinely love her?”

Their eyes are communicating silently. That wasn’t true, he really loved Yeoreum and he wanted to marry her because they were in love, not because it felt like a fast-track way to get over you. Right? Jaeyun thinks hard.

“Let me tell you what I think.” The oldest speaks up again, “I think you asked her to marry you because you thought settling with her would make you forget about Y/N.” Jaeyun’s face scrunched up, confused by his best friend’s words.

“That’s no-”

“Answer me honestly, Jake.” Heeseung is trying his best to let Jaeyun see the truth, to finally put some sense into him. Jaeyun knows there has always been tension between his fiance and best friend, ever since they met it was like there was a wall between them no matter how many times Jaeyun tried to get them closer. But despite his quibble with Yeoreum, Heeseung wouldn’t say this for anything. And it’s not the first time he’s heard it either.

“You know I’ll support you, but you need to think about this. Think out what you truly want.”

He recalls a conversation he and his dad had with him a few weeks after he announced he was engaged.

“Son, this is pretty fast. Are you sure?” His dad kept a stoic expression and his tone of voice was stale. Jaeyun simply nodded and smiled before telling him ‘It’s what makes sense.’. With that, his dad heaved out a breath, “But is it what you want?”

“Of course it is!” Jaeyun’s voice was raised, “You don’t think I want to marry her? Why would I propose if I didn’t?” A knowing look from his father shut him up almost instantly.

“Jaeyun, listen to me seriously, marriage isn’t going to help you get over Y/N.” Jaeyun stands up. “Dad, I am over her.”

His dad shakes him by the shoulders, “You will never be over Y/N. And that’s okay, but that means this marriage to Yeoreum won’t make you forget, won’t help you the way you think it will. Seriously consider my words before this gets out of control.”

Heeseung waits for him to process his words, staying silent to give him time. He wanted nothing more than his best friend’s happiness. If you asked him a week ago, he would never have said anything, let Jaeyun go through with the marriage because at least he is somewhat content, finally living his life without you. But now that you’re back and he sees how obviously you and Jaeyun still crave one another, he needs Jaeyun to seriously think about tomorrow.

“Heeseung,” His breath catches in his throat before he utters the next words, “I need her.”

#aj writes #enha smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #the next chapter is...#you're either gonna love it or hate it besties

244 notes · View notes

peonycats · 9 months

Text

RACEBENDING NATIONAL PERSONIFICATIONS: A TREATISE

DISCLAIMERS:

I AM NOT WHITE, I AM A POC. I am not writing this because I’m a butthurt white person who gets pissy when someone makes my white faves nonwhite and thus unrelatable to me for ‘some’ reason.

I AM NOT PERSONALLY ATTACKING ANY INDIVIDUALS WHO RACEBEND OR IMAGINE THEIR NATIONS TO HAVE A DIFFERENT ETHNICITY THAN WHAT THEY DO IN CANON; ON A SIMILAR NOTE, DO NOT ATTACK SUCH INDIVIDUALS FOR ME. This is a discussion of general fandom trends and a larger phenomenon, the issue I am talking about cannot be solved on an individual to individual basis.

I AM NOT TRYING TO STOP FIRST NATIONS PEOPLE FROM RECLAIMING THEIR NATIONS. As I am not First Nations myself, I would not wish to deny what these individuals emotionally and mentally reap from reclaiming their nations.

I AM NOT THE “POC AREN’T ALLOWED TO HAVE FUN AND SEE THEMSELVES IN THEIR FAVES” POLICE; I AM NOT YOUR MOM, DO WHATEVER YOU WANT. Again, this is a discussion of fandom trends and a larger phenomenon. I think it’s almost always worth examining why we do the things we do and the reasons behind a trend.

I AM NOT AGAINST RACEBENDING IN GENERAL. This is specifically an essay on racebending in nationverse Hetalia and other personified nations fandoms.

PREFACE

As stated before in my disclaimers, this essay is not intended to be a condemnation of individuals who participate in racebending. Rather, I intend to make a macro-critique of wider structures and patterns. For this reason, this essay is not accusing anyone engaging in racebending of holding any specific belief. I cannot stress enough how much I do not know you, the hypothetical reader who engages in racebending.

Again, my intent is to critique wider structures and patterns.

This essay is a conversation I would like to have with other POC and other marginalized groups, especially POC based in white, Western countries. Thus, I ask people not included in the above groups to refrain from weighing in on this.

ALTERNATIVE GOOGLE DOC LINK HERE

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Difference in Reception for Racebent versus Non-Racebent Characters

The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations

The State of POC Representation in Hetalia

The Assumption of Interchangeability in POC Experience

The Myth of Multiculturalism

“It’s Just Fandom, Why Are You Trying to Control POC Who Just Want to Have Fun and Want to Represent Themselves?"

Conclusion

The Difference in Reception for Racebent versus Non-Racebent Characters

I will start this essay off with an acknowledgement of my station in the Hetalia fandom and how it uniquely equips me to talk about this topic – I am very fortunate to enjoy a follower base that primarily follows me for non-Western characters, whether they be canonical or my own original characters. As someone who mostly posts non-Western characters, I can confirm that there is a wider disparity in reception between drawings of my white characters and non-white characters. The following example is not from myself, but from the artist miyuecakes who similarly focuses on predominantly non-white, non-Western countries. You can see there is a drastic gap in the amount of notes that post focused on five nations considered to be non-Western versus a drawing of Female America.

Stating this fact of the fandom is fairly noncontroversial. I would also assert that the following statement is equally true, however given recent reception, is far more controversial: “There are far more instances of racebent canonically white/Western characters, which receive far more traction than their non-racebent counterparts, whether canonical or not.”

I want to make clear what my statement is not saying:

Racebending is only done by white people seeking to score clout and diversity points without having to care about canon non-white characters. In fact, the vast majority of racebending in the fandom is done by POC looking for representation; given the amount of white canon nations compared to any other nation, POC who engage in racebending see it as a way of “evening” the disproportionate overrepresentation of white countries.

POC who engage in racebending are doing so to score clout and diversity points with a white audience. Refer to my above point.

Racebent canonically white characters are met with no controversy or racist/bigoted vitriol. It is fairly well known that there have been multiple harassment campaigns, particularly on Twitter, against artists and editors who’ve engaged in racebending even outside of the Hetalia fandom: see the Black Anya edit, Thumin’s artwork and resulting hate. POC being visibly POC in online spaces will always garner backlash.

On a similar note, I am not including POC cosplayers cosplaying white or light-skinned characters in my definition of racebending. Being angered by POC who cosplay characters of a different complexion is blatantly racist; anyone who is angered by this has nothing of value to add and not worth arguing with.

I am a bitter artist who is mad that I don’t receive enough notes on my posts with non-racebent characters compared to posts about racebent white characters. As stated earlier, I am grateful for the audience I’ve cultivated who specifically follow me for non-racebent non-Western content; I am also more than aware that my content is not what people who seek out racebent content are looking for, and have no interest in changing either my content or their tastes. The last thing I would wish to do is to label POC creators who engage in racebending as “the enemy” and POC creators who don’t as “my side.”

With that out of the way, I bring up this observation because I think it’s worth asking ourselves, POC specifically, the following questions: Why? Why is there this discrepancy in frequency and reception between these kinds of characters and content? Why do people racebend in lieu of focusing on existing POC and creating their own non-white characters?

The easy answer most would give is because white characters are over-represented and given more screen time and attention in the canon, so people, especially POC, will become attached to them and create variations of them that hit closer to home for them; this is especially the case if you are a POC who has had experiences living as a minority in a Western country. Some POC may also use racebending as a way to subvert national myths that have historically excluded people of color for a variety of racist, imperialist reasons. I know I used to subscribe towards a depiction of non-white passing America and Canada for this very reason.

In the rest of this essay I would like to examine and critique the practice of racebending national anthropomorphisms traditionally and typically depicted as white in the context of Hetalia and by extension other media involving similar premises. This essay argues that while racebending may be harmless for most other anime, Hetalia – by virtue of its content centering real life nations – carries political implications that are not necessarily appropriate.

I stress again that I can’t stop you or what anybody in the Hetalia fandom does. I do not have that kind of power nor the will to do such a thing. All I ask is for you to listen to the following with an open mind, and if there’s only one thing you take away from this, I hope it’s to realize that POC in particular have valid reasons to dislike racebent depictions of white nations; holding such a stance does not make them anti-POC representation and somehow no longer POC and instead, a member of the white oppressor class.

The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations

Firstly, I repeat that a series about personified nations is deeply political and every creative choice carries political and socio-cultural ramifications, whether intentional or not and made by the creator or the fan. Even if you mostly interact with Hetalia in a depoliticized context, others may not, and given that nationverse Hetalia is about personified nations, this is perfectly reasonable.

Let us look into the canon material of Hetalia- It is shown that nations on average have close ties to their governments, viewing them as their bosses and carrying out actions for them. We are shown that there are nations who go against the orders of their governments, such as Germany; this does not mean all nations follow in that pattern, however, and there are many who are in lockstep with their governments and their actions.

Therefore, for individuals whose ethnic groups and nations have suffered great harm from oppressor nation-states (Philippines v. United States, Indonesia v. Netherlands, India v. England), it is not irrational for them to be unsettled by their oppressor being racebent- especially when said oppressor nation-state is depicted as being the same ethnicity as the very group(s) they marginalized. This is uncomfortable for multiple reasons:

There is an implication that a member of a marginalized group possibly chose to take part in atrocities and misdeeds that the said marginalized group historically not the major perpetrator behind. In more egregious cases, a member of a marginalized group willingly chose to commit atrocities and misdeeds on a large scale against their own group.

The oppressor state personification was forced by their government to commit these grievous acts of harm against members of other marginalized groups/their own marginalized groups; thus, the personification of the nation-state, the people, has little to no culpability as an oppressor, and is instead made into a fellow victim of their own government.

This deflects blame from the embodiment of the state of being an oppressor. The suggestion here is that the state is somehow completely separate yet intertwined with the government – it was simply the government who perpetrated the crimes… the people were just unwillingly complicit. This can come across as an erasure/rosewashing of the very purposeful policies used to harm and disadvantage colonized/oppressed groups.

This can also erase the fact that in many cases, the people gave the government’s actions their tacit approval whether it was through whole-hearted enthusiasm or apathy towards the suffering of others.

In the case that the racebent nation’s minority ethnicity was historically involved in such acts, this involves highly sensitive conversations about minorities’ complicity in crimes and assimilation into the white/majority order (e.g. Chinese and East Asian settlers in Hawaii after America’s illegal annexation, Korean collaborators with the Japanese annexation of Korea, African American soldiers in the Philippines); these are extremely touchy subjects that should be had within the relevant ethnic groups, and should not be appropriated by outsiders, particularly white people, especially for fandom purposes.

(I will discuss insiders racebending nation-states to their ethnic group that have suffered mistreatment and oppressed by said nation-states in “The Myth of Multiculturalism.”)

Additionally, racebending may end up justifying those very same crimes, especially in the case of settler colonialism. For example, during French rule of Algeria, the French government began a program of confiscating Algerian land from indigenous Algerians and giving them to French and European settlers. Over the course of two centuries, more and more land was taken away from indigenous Algerians, forcing them to move to the margins of society, where they were barred from accessing employment, higher education, and the other societal amenities.

Many would be able to identify how personifying Algeria as a white, French individual would be erasing indigenous Algerians and implying that the French settlers represent all of Algeria. However, conversely, making France an Algerian man is also playing into colonial French propaganda. The French viewed Algeria as part of France and the French homeland itself, unique even among other French African colonies, and made plans to make Algeria a full-fledged French province, or department. To make the national personification of France Algerian then, is to suggest that this belief was and is correct, that the Algerians are a part of the colonial core of France, even if the intention is to represent the modern day Algerian diaspora in France.

IMPORTANT: I will expand on the politics of representing diaspora populations in the section “The Myth of Multiculturalism.”

Given all of these reasons for why POC may justifiably react negatively to a racebent white nation personification, some may argue against these with:

“Why is it that when the nation is white, they never have to deal with any of these heavy discussions of imperialism, bigotry, oppression, etc, but when they’re racebent they suddenly have to? Why are they suddenly politicized when they’re racebent?”

My response to that is that they were politicized, even when they were white because the act of personifying a nation is inherently political; to ignore a white nation’s history of oppression is a politically charged move in of itself. Are we really depoliticizing POC when we racebend a white nation and try to maintain that same ‘depoliticization’ and omission of historical oppression but this time for a POC face? To racebend a white nation is to refuse to contend with the contradiction of transforming an oppressor class to the very group they marginalize - making racebending an inherently political act. It is not necessarily that whiteness is unpolitical but rather that an active refusal to deal with this contradiction makes the political implications much more obvious.

Additionally, this rebuttal raises another question- Were we to completely forget about a character’s background as the personification of an oppressor state and the political weight of that, would that truly solve the problem of POC being politicized? I don’t think so- In the current world we live in, POC are always political. But exclusively racebending oppressor states makes no attempt to depoliticize non-Western POC states, creating a divide between POC that get to be “depoliticized” and POC who don’t based on their proximity to the West.

The State of POC Representation in Hetalia

Some would argue with the points of my last paragraph saying that I am not including POC who both engage in racebending but also create non-Western POC OCs; if equal attention is given to both, there would be no division between racebent Western POC who get to be humanized and non-Western POC who don’t, right?

To answer this we must acknowledge wider trends in racebending in Hetalia. Consider the following: When somebody has a North African! Romano, how many other North African nations (canon or non-canon) do they show appreciation for? Create content for? Expound the same amount of mental and creative energy for? Furthermore: If they do have another North African nation(s) they create content for, are they allowed to exist as their own separate beings, and not purely exist to be North African! Romano’s tie to North Africa?

Chances are, Romano is reduced to being the token brown character in a largely white cast and isn’t allowed to ever exist without whiteness surrounding him. This is a very diaspora experience, but I find it unfortunate that in a piece of media that enables us to explore any number of cultures and experiences over all of time and history, we (and I’m including myself as another POC who grew up in a primarily white environment) are unable to imagine ourselves outside of this setting and celebrate ourselves without having to exist against a white mainstream. Stories about white engulfment are allowed to exist and should be told, but why is this so common? Why do these stories disproportionately outnumber POC stories where whiteness is minute or absent?

As my audience is intended to be mostly POC, I will not elaborate on the following scenario too much, but I will ask us to scrutinize the ethics of it. What about cases where white individuals racebend some of their white favorite characters and position them as POC representation in lieu of actually focusing on POC, non-Western nations, canon or not? Does this not have implications about what kinds of POC and diversity are considered more palatable and appealing?

Furthermore, when another North African nation does exist alongside racebent Romano, their character and depiction is almost always heavily dependent on their relationship to Romano, a Western nation. This still perpetuates the same inequality I was talking about earlier where POC nations are humanized based on their proximity to the West, whether because they personify a Western nation or happen to have a relationship with a Western nation.

We should not just be talking about having “more” non-white representation, but also the quality of it. It is completely understandable why some POC may not be satisfied with the representation most racebent content provides, even beyond the reasons outlined previously; this type of representation excludes POC who do not have a relationship to the West, and is still largely focused on the West.

IMPORTANT: I am not saying that contact with or influence from the West makes POC somehow “less POC” or that stories from Western-based diaspora are a “diluted” form of representation. I will expand on this in the section “The Myth of Multiculturalism.”

“Well if it’s not good enough for those POC, then they should just mind their business and make their own representation! There’s plenty of non-racebent content out there!”

Many POC do exactly that- creating their own representation without racebending. However, as established earlier, racebent white characters receive far more attention and feedback compared to canonical non-white characters, despite the fact that both depictions fulfill the purpose of “representation.” This can be especially disheartening in a fandom that already heavily tokenizes canon POC nations, whether it’s India being presented as the “nanny”/surrogate parent in Commonwealth group art or Seychelles as the “adopted child of color” in FACES family. To POC content creators, it feels insulting that the wider fandom, rather than developing POC canon characters (or taking advantage of the source material’s potential by making OCs) and viewing them as representation, the fandom chooses to racebend Western nations and celebrates them instead.

I want to make clear again what I am not saying with that statement:

POC who engage in racebending are doing so to score clout and diversity points with a white audience. Again, it’s a fact that the vast majority of racebending is done by POC looking to create their own representation.

POC who engage in racebending should all go stan Seychelles and Cuba instead. This is an extremely individualist solution to what is a wider phenomenon. I do not blame POC based in Western countries for feeling disconnected to the few POC nations we have in canon.

Racebent POC content is more popular than content of non-racebent white characters.

What I am describing here is how an audience (the Hetalia fandom) receives two creations, both made by POC in the pursuit of creating more representation, and the difference in reception. The difference, it seems, is that the wider fandom deems certain kinds of POC representation more appealing, and thus, certain kinds of POC worth focusing on.

The Assumption of Interchangeability in POC Experience

Earlier, I mentioned that one of the possible reasons for POC to engage in racebending is the desire to see an iteration of their favorite character that is closer to their own reality and lived experience. Therefore, some may choose to racebend a white character to embody a marginalized minority in the country instead so they can share more experiences with the formerly white characters.

Here, I will not be dealing with the practice of POC racebending their own country to their own ethnicity, which is the focus of the next section. Instead, I will be delving into the practice of POC racebending another nation to embody a minority (one which they do not belong to) for the purposes of ‘putting themselves in their interpretations.’ I argue that to do this requires assuming a certain level of interchangeability between POC experiences.

First and foremost, POC are not a monolith- we lead drastically different lives depending on our ethnic backgrounds, where we live, our socioeconomic class, our political and racial context, and etc. Therefore, we cannot presume that our experiences of marginalization mean we’ll always succeed in properly representing other minority groups elsewhere; in fact, the goal of projecting our own life experiences onto them means that there will be an obstacle to properly representing these minority groups.

Take the following example: Imagine a Chinese-Malaysian individual greatly enjoys the character of Spain. Wishing to better relate to him, the individual racebends him to be also Chinese. However, a great deal of historical, cultural determinants and nuances separate the experiences of Chinese people in Spain and Chinese people in Malaysia. There are similarities, yes, but this Chinese Malaysian cannot hope to properly represent the Chinese population in Spain if their primary goal remains self-projection. Now imagine that our Chinese-Malaysian individual wished to racebend England to be Indian; an even wider gap separates the experiences and history of Chinese people in Malaysia and Indian people in England, making it even less likely that our individual will succeed in representing the experiences of Indian people in England.

Another point to consider is that attempts at racebending certain national personifications to represent minorities in the country end up erasing representation for the majority population of the country. For example, there has been a historical Japanese community in Peru that dates back to the 1800s and made a large impact on Peruvian culture. However, it would still be inappropriate to make a Peru OC that is mostly Japanese in race, because besides just being not representative of the 99.9% of non-Japanese Peruvians, it would also be taking representation from Peruvian mestizo and indigenous peoples, who make up over 80% of Peru’s population.

This isn’t even taking into consideration cases where nations are racebent to personify ethnic groups that do not have a numerically significant or historically significant population.

“So what if it’s inaccurate? I just want to self-project onto my favorite character!”

If that’s your response, then I encourage you to read the section “It’s Just Fandom, Why Are You Trying to Control POC Who Just Want to Have Fun and Want to Represent Themselves?” where I address assertions of "fandom is not activism" and similar points.

For now, I will ask you to consider the feelings of those very minorities you are ostensibly representing, even if your primary intention is to project your own experiences onto a character. Chances are, they also suffer from little to no representation that depicts them in inaccurate and unflattering ways.

Hetalia is a media property supposedly centered around exploring and learning about other cultures, but so often fails to accurately and sensitively depict many cultures and nations. Should we not show them the grace that canon Hetalia fails to provide?

The Myth of Multiculturalism

Multiculturalism is typically defined as a celebration of a nation’s ethnic diversity. This is generally considered to be a good and progressive value to have, but a closer and more critical look at multiculturalism in practice suggests that not even a value directed at xenophobia is immune to in-group out-group biases. When enacted by the state, multiculturalism is less an acceptance of diversity as it currently exists (especially in regards to non-indigenous ethnicities) and more an assimilation of these “foreign cultures” into the dominant national one.

For example, Singapore has built much of its national identity as a “multicultural” society. This is shown through government policies in language and education, where the languages of the 3 ethnic groups (Chinese, Tamil Indians, Malays) are all officialized and the government promotes education for ethnic minorities in their mother tongues. However, the label of “multicultural” hides the reality of power inequality between the various ethnic groups. Minorities face pressure to display literacy in the language and culture of the Chinese majority for greater societal acceptance and inclusion. In fact, the assertion that Singapore is a multicultural society that treats its ethnic groups all equally, is often used as a cudgel to shut down any allegations that Singapore fails to live up to this national identity. As my audience is intended to be predominantly POC, especially those living as minorities in Western nations, members of my audience are of course familiar with insistences of “But Canada/United States/etc is a melting pot society! Racism isn’t a serious issue, POC can’t be treated poorly in those countries.”

By racebending a national personification to be part of a marginalized population, this is making a political statement by asserting that the marginalized population is in fact a part of that nation, and has always been, despite historical exclusion. The act of racebending is an overly idealistic and uncritical agreement with multiculturalism, without considering how the value actually applies in practice. It rosewashes the reality and existence of cultural imperialism enacted on immigrant/outsider groups.

Racebending can therefore accidentally act as multicultural propaganda, especially when the invokement of multiculturalism is used to stamp out valid critiques of othering and racialization by ethnic minorities. (E.g. “Singapore can’t have problems with racism against Malays! Singapore himself is Malay!”)

IMPORTANT: If you want to argue that nation personifications are not inherently representative of their government, refer to the section, “The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations.”

“Well, POC based in Western countries will naturally feel more connected to their Western countries than their homelands, often because of those policies intended to break their connections to their homelands. Why can’t they racebend to reclaim? To feel connected to their Western countries in contrast to their realities of ostracization and othering?”

I have already discussed why other POC (those affected by a white regime’s actions) would be uncomfortable with the implications of tying a POC/marginalized group with said white regime’s misdeeds in the section “The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations” so I will not discuss it here beyond mentioning it.

Firstly, I must acknowledge that this argument is fundamentally an emotional one. I do not want to deny what POC in Western countries emotionally derive from racebending the nation-state, even as a fellow POC based in a Western country. Instead, I will approach this argument from another angle.

I ask the following: When trying to represent our experiences as diaspora and minorities, why is personifying a diaspora/minority community not a popular option? The act of choosing to personify a community is inherently political, and we can use it to empower ourselves as diaspora or minorities. For example, by personifying diaspora communities, we can acknowledge that diaspora experiences are different enough from those in the ‘homeland’ to warrant another personification, and also avoid accidentally justifying colonial possession of those ‘homeland’ states.

Additionally, by personifying diaspora/minority communities, we can 1) better reflect our unique day-to-day experiences of being racialized and separated from the mainstream, 2) avoid many of the earlier uncomfortable implications of minority collaboration in majority perpetrated acts and condoning colonialism, and 3) stress our independence and autonomy despite the efforts of the state and majority population to take that away.

To put it another way, why are there so many stories of minorities striving towards being included, or from another angle, subsumed, into the white nation-state despite its frequent rejection of them? Again, what does it say that these narratives of “inclusion into a historically white nation-state” disproportionately outnumber POC narratives where whiteness is minute or absent?

IMPORTANT: I am not singling you, the hypothetical POC diaspora individual who engages in racebending, out. I am asking about wider patterns of representation in media.

“But by personifying diaspora and minority communities separately from the personification of the nation-state, isn’t that basically saying that minorities will never be seen as part of the nation-state? That we will never be included when people think of our nation state?”

I believe this response takes too narrow a perspective on what multiculturalism is and “being part of a nation-state means,” and thus views having separate personifications as ‘justifying’ or ‘promoting’ our exclusion from the nation-state when it may not be the case.

Look at it from this way- Is it not also problematic to have only one avatar for, say, America, and thus imply that there is one true way of being “American?” Having multiple American personifications, in contrast, is a more true depiction of the realities of being American, and more true to the values of multiculturalism; it instead suggests that there are many ways to be American, that we don’t have to be subsumed into the mainstream to be considered “American.”

“Isn’t that functionally the same as different interpretations of the same nation-state coexisting? Why can’t fans just all have a different Alfred/America specific to their own experience who are all equally considered American?”

Once more: I am not trying to stop anyone from doing anything. That’s not within my power to do so. I agree with this statement that largely, having multiple American personifications and multiple America/Alfred fulfills the same purpose of showing that to be American means something different to everyone. However, the reason I advocated for the former approach is because it achieves the same goal with a lot less uncomfortable questions and unique benefits (minority autonomy), as detailed above.

“It’s Just Fandom, Why Are You Trying to Control POC Who Just Want to Have Fun and Want to Represent Themselves?”

First off, I am presenting this essay as a conversation with other POC because I want to make it explicitly known that my position here is not that of a white person seeking to silence POC and lecture them about what is and is not good for them. Secondly, it's because I want to talk about racebending as it currently exists in the Hetalia fandom, something mostly done by POC who wish to represent themselves and create the diversity missing in the source material. I believe pointing out that white people who are uncomfortable with POC characters or only racebend for self-centered reasons likely have a racial bias is obvious, especially to other POC, and wish to progress the conversation beyond this. This is why my discussion on racebending is moving beyond white bias.

As part of centering this as a discussion among POC, I am also assuming good faith from my interlocutors, that their desires for representation and diversity are sincere, and that I don’t look down on them. I hope then, that this assumption of good faith can be afforded to me as well- that my interlocutors believe me when I say that the last thing I want to do is control POC, as a fellow POC.

Having gotten all of that out of the way, let's address some rebuttals to the arguments I've made thus far.

"Who are you to decide what kind of representation resonates with POC?"

You're right. I can't decide what kind of representation resonates with POC. Again, I am not intent on controlling POC, and again, I recognize that many of the arguments in favor of racebending white nations come from an emotional place; I can’t control how POC feel, even if I wanted to do that.

However, it's precisely because of this that I've made my arguments based on factors other than emotional ones, such as the political implications and questioning the inclusivity racebending provides us with. POC joy and happiness is crucial in the face of a system that seeks to crush and suppress us. But from one POC to another, it's not much of a discussion if your response to my points is simply, "Well, it makes me feel represented and happy, and that's what matters most." If we argued based on that, we could go all day. Am I not a POC myself? Do the feelings and happiness of POC who are uncomfortable with racebending not matter? For that matter, who are you to tell the people whose families and people have been historically affected by white imperialist states to stop disliking racebent versions of those imperialist states?

For white people, it is easy for them to shut down racebending, because they don't understand the experience of never seeing yourself in any form of media. I have asked white/non-marginalized people to refrain from this discussion for that very reason. But in exchange for that, we should be able to discuss the ramifications of racebending national personifications, and look deeper at the arguments for and against racebending.

"You're taking this too seriously. People giving more attention to racebent versions of Western countries versus non-racebent POC countries doesn't say anything deeper about someone's political beliefs. People just like the silly anime about personified countries, and that silly anime happens to give more attention to the canonically white countries."

To a certain extent, I get this rebuttal. We cannot solve racism or the privileging of the global north by reblogging Hetalia fanart of Seychelles and Cameroon. Everything I have described here is symptomatic of much, much larger issues that affect billions. But it's symptomatic: fandom is not immune to the ills of wider society. We do not shed our innate biases and prejudices when we enter supposedly apolitical spaces like fandom. In a series about personified nations, our prejudices and biases are naturally magnified because the source material’s nature is deeply political, dealing with history and personified nations and states.

Again I ask: What does it mean that the POC representation made by POCs is so often limited to racebending canonically white characters, in the context of the world order we live in where proximity to the West automatically confers certain privileges?

IMPORTANT: Refer to the section “The Myth of Multiculturalism” if you respond to this with “Are you saying depictions of Western-influenced POC experiences are a lesser form of representation?”

If that fails to convince you, and you still believe the inequality in reception between racebent and non-racebent nations doesn’t say anything deeper, I respond with the following- Isn’t it still worth it to try and show the same support and energy to the non-racebent, non-Western countries and their creators, regardless of whether that content speaks to you or not?

One last time, I’ll clarify what I’m not saying with that:

Stop liking America and Russia and England. I repeat, I cannot control what POC like or feel or do, and I repeat, what characters you personally like is a very individualistic view on a wider, systemic issue.

In the section “The State of POC Representation in Hetalia,” I discussed how disproportionately giving to racebent countries versus non-racebent non-Western countries is not an intersectional form of POC representation, and fails to address the underrepresentation of non-Western countries and cultures given the global colonial hierarchy. My above statement is therefore saying that if we POC want to achieve a more intersectional form of solidarity and representation, to create a fandom that’s more non-Western friendly, to generally support all types of POC creators, we should not neglect certain kinds of POC content just because it doesn’t personally resonate with us.

You don’t have to. Fandom is not activism. For many, fandom is an escape from the grim realities of the outside world. But in a media property all about exploring other countries’ cultures and histories, can we not strive for the spirit of the source material, and be a little more open-minded in exploring other countries and other forms of POC representation? Even in this miniscule way?

CONCLUSION

I would like to conclude this essay on the matter of irithnova, and the recent controversy she’s been embroiled in for stating many of the points I have made. Yes, our tones were different. But no amount of harsh tone warrants the outrage and rather racist backlash her post received. irithnova has been one of the most active voices in the Hetalia fandom speaking out against racism, from the exclusion of POC in j-ellyfish’s character polls to myrddin’s behavior. However, as soon as she, a Filipino, expresses personal discomfort with certain depictions of a nation that’s caused great harm to her people, other POC were the first to get mad at her for seeing the political implications of a POC personified America, to the point of trying to deny her reality as a feminized and racialized member of the diaspora living in a colonial European country and calling her functionally white.

POC solidarity doesn’t mean we have to all agree with each other, or even like every other POC. But I want to note the irony here of people committing the very act they accused irithnova of doing- telling her, a Filipino, that she wasn’t allowed to criticize racebent depictions of America, thereby trying to control POC.

If your response to this is “Well, sure irithnova didn’t deserve the harassment, but she was still wrong to criticize racebending because it wasn’t her place!” I would like to remind you of the following points:

Scroll up to the top and read this essay again. Regardless of tone used, there are valid reasons for POC to dislike and criticize depictions of racebent countries.

irithnova, as a Filipino living in the West and has Filipino relatives in the USA, is intimately aware of the nature of American imperialism and racism against POC. The United States promised to help the Philippines achieve independence but instead robbed it of its sovereignty, putting down resistance to its takeover and instituting American rule because they viewed Filipinos as “lesser” and incapable of governing themselves because of their race. If it isn’t irithnova’s place to feel uncomfortable (and thus criticize) racebent America, then whose is it?

Finally, I want to emphasize one more thing- First Nations/Indigenous individuals have a unique relationship to the colonial settler states that occupy their land. Like I’ve said so many times, I cannot tell any POC how to feel or what to do, and even more so in this case because I myself am not First Nations/Indigenous; I’ve only provided arguments about the pitfalls of racebending and the merits of other forms of representation. But just as how I cannot tell you what to feel or do, nobody can stop other POC feeling put off by a racebent America.

At the end of the day, despite the who-knows-how-many paragraphs I’ve spent articulating the reasons against racebending canonically white nations, I cannot stop anyone from racebending nations if they wish to. But I do hope readers come away with a better understanding of the flaws of racebending, and the benefits of looking away from the Western mainstream and looking elsewhere to represent our experiences as diaspora and minorities. If you’re someone who engages in racebending, but still chose to read this 6K word long essay on the Hetalia fandom, I can’t express my gratitude enough for hearing me out. Honestly, anybody who read through this entire post deserves an award- Thanks for reading 💖

#jazzed about getting to use the word 'treatise' for the first time #hetalia #// disk horse #// racism #// colonialism #alternative title: a 6000 word long defense of irithnova

267 notes · View notes

reidslovely · 10 months

Note

lolololololol frat!peter dragging you to the gym for whatever reason (he’s really jus trying to show off) and he does that hip thrust exercise but with readers with reader’z weight he’s lifting/thrusting. Idk jus thought about it🤷🏾‍♀️

🤭 bestie....my friend!!! i am short circuiting at this thought as a midsize/plus size girl however you want to word that because peter still has his spider abilities but maybe he and reader are not as deep into this relationship yet so he hasn't told her yet. so the thought of peter being able to like pick her up is a thought that is like so fun!!!! have this pic to set the mood:

You were not interested in working out. You made that explicitly clear to Peter when you chose to stay the night. However, Peter has it in his mind now that he cannot go anywhere without you and you’d really hate to interrupt his schedule. So you rolled over, turned off his alarm and drug yourself out of bed. You got dressed in a pair of biker shorts and Peter’s Theta Tau shirt, cursing as you slid your shoes on. Peter watched from the doorway of his room with two water bottles in hand.

“Oh come on pouty.” He teased as you approached his rubbing the sleep from your eye.

“I hate you, I hate so much.”

“I know.” He mocks your pout, turning you around and pulling your hair up to a ponytail. You smiled at the jester, you loved that he was understanding of you not being a morning person nor a gym person.

However, that was till he started layering weights onto a barbell pole. “How much do you weigh again?” Peter asked, adding up the weight on the barbell. “Has it changed from your last doctor's appointment?” He asked obliviously to your jaw dropping more at each question.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Come on please, let me do this and then I can prove to you I can lift you. And maybe now you’ll let me manhandle you.”

You jumped off the little bench you had been sitting on walking over watching him. You whisper the weight in his ear and watch him get giddy shaking his shoulders. You fix his hat on your head before sitting on the floor watching him starting to lift with ease. Sneakily recording him send it to your group chat with your friends and a few other frat girlfriends.

‘It’s 7 am and he’s really starting to show off.’

You watch him, smiling to yourself as he proceeds like it isn’t an issue. You two go on like this for a bit, you watch him getting him a couple drinks of water here and there. Peter sits up rolling his shoulders before laying back down lifting the dumbbell onto his hips.

“Now this one is my favorite one.” He laughs resting it on his hips getting ready for his thrusting exercise. You furrow your eyebrows, slightly confused before realizing what he was doing.

“Peter!” You laughed sitting back down. His chesty laugh filled the empty area of the college gym as he lifted. You covered your face, dropping your hands as you watched him.

“You are such a show off.”

“You love it.” He hums out lifting the bar over his head, setting it on the railing. “Now I say we go get a good breakfast from that little cafe down the street, and we revisit the topic of me being able to..lift you.” He winks.

You smack his chest shaking your head, he takes your hand kissing the back.

“Fine..but you’re paying.”

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” He hums.

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm fic #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #the amazing spiderman #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter x you #tasm! peter parker fluff #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter one shot

214 notes · View notes

dreamingofep · 1 month

Text

Sinned Awakening pt. 26 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, smut, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Hello everyone!! Enjoy this new part! It’s a bit shorter than normal but it’s because the next chapter is a MONSTER and I had to break it up somehow! Some questions are going to be answered and some other things are going to be uncovered😈

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

You now understand why Elvis considered not sleeping as part of his ‘curse’. There was no escaping your thoughts and it was just endless noise that played in your head. It was hard to focus on the things you wanted to hear because you had nothing to put your focus on. You were getting the hang of focusing on the sound of Elvis’ heart when he was here, but now he was so far away you couldn’t hear him anymore.

You don’t know how long you cried, it felt like forever. You just wanted him back here so you could apologize and make things right. The empty pit inside your heart ached for him. Despite the distance, you felt him ache for you too. You knew he was out there feeling the same longing you were experiencing. You prayed he’d be back in a day or so to talk things out and figure out how you guys can find answers on your new life.

But he doesn’t come back the next day, or the day after that. One full week drags on and no one has heard from him. Not even a phone call. You grew desperate for him, needing him to be here with you and hold you again. You were lonely and most importantly scared. You hadn’t even been away from him this long and you were worried.

None of the guys were hanging around the house lately and if they did stop by to check in on you, it was the same answer when you asked them if they heard anything from him. Jerry was the only one that hung around the most. He knew how worried you were even though you kept assuring him you were fine.

“Maybe I should go out there looking for him… what if he needs me,” you suggest to him one day.

“Where would you begin to look for him? E would kill us if he knew we let you out there by yourself,” he says worriedly.

“I’m stronger than all of you right now!” You snap. He swallows uncomfortably and looks away from you. You instantly feel bad and apologize.

“I’m sorry, I didn��t mean to snap like that. I just mean, I could take care of myself,” you try to explain.

“I understand, there’s no doubt you would win in any fight with us but you don’t have any control over your abilities,” he says gently. “You’re kind of a loose cannon lately,” he jokes.

You can’t help but laugh and have to agree, you had no idea what could tick you off if you mingled with other humans you didn’t know.

“No, you’re right,” you sigh, “well maybe you can come with me?”

He pauses and considers the proposal, weighing the pros and cons of this idea.

“Elvis is my best friend. I’d do anything for him. Hell, I let him bite me. But most importantly, you’re his other half. I’ll go anywhere you go,” he says sweetly.

“But I think we should give him a bit more time. If he doesn’t come back in a few days, we’ll start looking for him,” he says.

“Okay, sounds good,” you say with a smile, thankful he’s on board with the plan.

You tried to put your time into reading all the books Elvis had on vampires. Anything to help you understand what was going on with you. Or what was going on with him? The books couldn’t keep your full attention, however. Too much worry plagued your mind and certain topics in these books disturbed you. The human part of you became squeamish when you read about the more gruesome things like how to kill a vampire. You couldn’t bring yourself to read what was in those passages. It made you physically sick to think of anyone ever trying to hurt Elvis. You hoped Jerry was right, he was just out there looking for answers to understand why you changed the way you did and what else you needed to survive.

You didn’t have an appetite while you were worrying about him so much. You weren’t eating like you should have and it had been days since you drank any blood. There was this dark part of you that craved to have Elvis’. You could barely remember what he tasted like from when you first bit him, but everything inside you screamed to bite him. It was extremely frustrating that this incessant voice in your head was begging to have him when he was God knows where.

The next few days pass slowly, and still no sign of him. You couldn’t sit in this house any longer not doing anything useful. You weren’t going to let Elvis shut you out and get himself into trouble out there. You started to gather a bag full of things you might need on your journey. You tell Elvis’ housekeepers you’ll be back soon, but don’t give them an exact date you’ll be back because you didn’t even know yourself. They had worried looks on their faces they couldn’t hide and you hated to see them worry.

You wait for Jerry in the living room, double-checking that you both have everything you need.

“Any idea where we’re going to start looking? He can be anywhere,” he says jokingly.

“Well, hopefully, he’s not too far and we can find him quickly. I just want him home. If he still didn’t find any help, we’ll go together and help him,” you say matter-of-factly. “I guess I should follow my instincts, follow the bond that tethers us together.”

“Let’s go, you know I won’t question anything you say,” he says grabbing his bag he pack and slinging it over his shoulder.

Your attention gets pulled away from the conversation and your head snaps to look at the front door like a magnet. You heard a heartbeat. A loud, melodious heartbeat, beating only for you. It was one you could recognize from anywhere.

Elvis.

You rush to open the door and see him, looking as good as ever walking up the steps to the house. His hair was slicked back, showcasing his handsome face. His eyes were still golden and more captivating than ever. He had this boyish innocence in his eye though, like he was silently pleading for you to forgive him for being gone so long. You could feel how happy he was to see you and how his heart raced faster the closer he got to you.

He stood in front of you, eying you head to toe and taking a sharp breath in. He pulls you quickly by your wrist and envelops you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold onto him tight. You sigh a breath of relief and feel his warmth wrap around your body. His scent fills your head like an intoxicating drink. You hum content, so happy to have him in your arms again.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers as he picks you up slightly from the ground and gives you a deep, passionate kiss. It was intense and electrifying, wrapping you in his blinding love. You place your hands on his face, making sure he’s real and not some cruel dream.

He gently puts you down and you look up at him in anticipation.

“Where have you been?” You ask, hurt filling your voice.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long baby. I-I-I had to take care of things,” he says overwhelmed. He tries to comfort you but suddenly pick up another scent behind him. You suddenly feel on edge as you don’t recognize the scent at all. You dart your eyes back up at him, trying to push him to the side to see who it is but he doesn’t budge.

“Umm honey, I need you to meet someone…” he says uncomfortably. You push at his chest slightly to see who is behind him and he gives way.

It was a girl, maybe twenty years old or so, with long black hair, and flawless golden skin. She wears sunglasses shielding her gaze from you. She doesn’t say anything right away, just stares at you behind the glasses, inspecting your every detail. You step in front of Elvis instinctively, wanting to create a barrier between him and this girl.

“What do you want?” You growl. She smirks at you, amused by your protective tone.

“I’m not a threat,” she says calmly, “my name is Iris.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you say through your teeth, “what do you want. What are you doing here?” You press. You feel Elvis place his hand on your shoulder to try and calm you but need to focus and don’t want him to touch you right now. You brush his hand off of you and take another step forward to Iris.

“Elvis found us in search of answers,” She starts to explain when a man you’ve never seen starts to walk up the steps behind her. “We are like you, Chosen.”

You feel your stomach drop, not believing what she just said. You glance over at the man standing next to her. He was young too, with wavy dark brunette hair, and pale icy skin.

“My name is Alexander, it’s nice to meet you,” he says sweetly.

You look back at Elvis, unsure if you should trust them or not.

“It’s okay, they’re here to help us,” he says low.

You look back at them, nodding your head that you’ll let them talk.

Iris smiles, “Perfect, where did you guys want to begin?”

Elvis pushed the front door open and stepped to the side. “Please, come in,” he says kindly. You let them walk in first and watch as they inspect every detail of the house. You pull at Elvis’ hand before you two walk in behind them.

He looks at you intensely, as you pull him away from the door.

“Do you know who these vampires are you just invited into your home?” You say low, your eyes blazing with intensity.

“Baby, it’s all okay. They can be trusted. You need to hear what they have to say. They’re the real thing trust me, I was skeptical at first too. Please, just listen to what they have to say,” he says squeezing your hand slightly.

You huff, knowing you can’t say no to him.

“Fine, I’ll let them talk. Then we need to talk too. Alone,” you say shortly.

“I know,” he says softly, knowing there’s a lot left unsaid after your fight.

He lets you walk into the house first, resting his hand on the small of your back.

A spark.

A little golden ember blazes inside of you with one touch of his hand.

You look back at him and he has this look on his face. Smug and yet still tender. But you know he feels it too.

“Mine.” He sighs.

Tagging: x

@powerotelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis presely smut #elvis fic #elvis fluff #70s elvis #elvis #sinned awakening #dreamingofep

53 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Unexpected 3

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The list of what you can do is shorter than those things barred from you. The doctor merely confirmed your deepest fears and sealed Lloyd’s sentence. A baby. A whole other life and you’re supposed to be responsible for it. You know for a fact he won’t be, at least, not beyond tossing money at the situation.

Your arm is tender from the implant removal. The procedure was emblematic of your state. The excision of part of yourself, the last remnant of your old self. You mourn the loss quietly, keeping your face blank as you pretend to read the literature shoveled into your hands by the nurse before your departure.

Lloyd is gleeful, he can’t hide his joy but you are not deluded. It’s not some wholesome delight at bringing a new life into the world, no, it’s celebrating the life he’s ruined. Yours. A child is the brand that marks your ownership.

As you enter his house, it feels bleak. The pristine white and gold aesthetic is dingy and beige to your eyes. The world is grimmer, constricted. Your leash is tight and cannot reach beyond these walls.

A sudden smack across your ass jolts you from your melancholic trance. Lloyd takes a pamphlet from the pile clutched in your hands and unfolds it. He gives it a once over and hands it back.

“I got a treadmill in the gym. You should hop on that every once in a while. Stuff says you need to stay active,” he shrugs, “wouldn’t mind a workout buddy.”

You squint at him. There it is. All those times Colin gently tried to goad you. ‘There’s a special at the gym’, ‘let’s make a new years resolution’,’ it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try something new’.

“Or… I could go for walks outside,” you suggest, “get some fresh air.”

“Don’t be fucking smart,” he warns, “I’m not being a fuckhead here, I’m trying to help. Do what’s best for the baby but don’t you dare lose that fucking ass. A brisk pace, no running.”

You sigh. This man has the audacity to dictate everything around him as if the world is built just for him. In his head, maybe it is. From the looks of it, he’s never been denied anything in his life.

“So, you still don’t trust me?”

“Trust?” He clucks, “that’s a funny concept. But no. You wanna go for a walk, I’ll take you out for one like a good pet.”

You scowl and he smirks, reaching to tap the end of your nose. You wipe your face of all emotion and pull away, refocusing on the booklets in your hand.

“Decaf,” he declares, “and we should look into some vitamins. Doc says at your age–”

“I wish you hadn’t just welcomed yourself in, you know? It’s kind of… private.”

“Hey, I’m the father, I got every right to know what’s going on with my kid.”

“Mmm, sure, and what about when the kid shows up? How about diapers? Colic? Sticky hands?”

“That’s what nanny’s are for,” he wrinkles his nose, “ew, you’re– such a pessimist, baby face.”

And you're a dumbass, you keep the retort to yourself and shake your head at the next page. No coffee, no hot baths, no sushi… Sounds like a wonderful nine months.

“One thing at a time,” he nears and grasps the clutter in your hands. A brief tug-of-war as you clamp down but relent, letting him take it before it scattered, “we still got a wedding to plan.”

“Plan? I thought Vegas was easy–”

“Dresses,” he insists as he places the papers in the console table drawer, “get your coat off. We’re gonna do a little fashion show.”

“Oh, fuck off. Just gimme the one with the most last,” you huff as you unbutton your coat.

“I think we should weigh our options, baby,” he opens the closet and hangs his jacket, “so you’re gonna strut and do a pretty little spin. If your ass don’t look good, we know it’s not the one.”

“You are so romantic,” you say dryly as you add your coat to the row along the rod.

“Oh, I’m thinking the whole nine yard. Veil, flowers, something blue, something inside you–”

“Right, let’s just get this over with before I vomit,” you interrupt him.

“Ah, little baby Hansen already causing trouble.”

“No, you. You make me sick.”

He snickers and grabs your arm. He pulls you to him, his other arm looping around you. He leans in and you try to turn your face away. He catches your chin and holds you in place as he plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth.

“You think they’ll let me kiss you other lips at the altar,” he purrs as he parts, “climb up under your skirt–”

“Do you ever stop?”

“Not really,” he answers, another slap on your ass, “let’s go, peaches.”

He keeps an arm around you as he guides you away from the entryway and back to the front room where the rack of dresses waits. The golden bar has been righted and the garment bags rehung. Lloyd lets you go and strides ahead of you, pushing apart the wire hangers with a hum.

“Oh, this one is my front runner,” he turns to you and holds out a white bag, “this one first.”

You glare at him and slowly approach, taking it with hesitance.

“So, when exactly is this wedding supposed to happen because I probably won’t fit into these soon–”

“You sign?” He challenges.

You swallow and give an indecisive look to the ceiling.

“I told you I would–”

“Later,” he waves you off, “don’t spoil this.”

You barely keep from rolling your eyes. You? Spoil it? You look down at the hang and drag away the long garment bag.

“Change here,” he insists as he sits on the sofa, stretching his arms wide across the back, “behind that… whatever.”

He points to the fanned divider placed to the impractical aesthetic of whatever designer he paid to decorate. You sniff and near the wall, pulling it out to angle it around so you have some room behind it. You peek over at him as he feels his mustache and smirks at the room.

You dip behind the barrier and unzip the bag. The contents are worse than you could ever imagine. A white leather halter dress. Not your style, if you can claim to have any. You sigh and pull it out.

“What’s up, doll face?” Lloyd taunts from the other side.

“Nothing,” you lie, your tone betraying your agitation.

You undress and open the zipper as wide as it goes. You struggle to pull the tight leather sheath up your body and strain to do it up. You’re less impressed by the cut out over your cleavage and long split down the thigh. Worse, the way it stretches over your stomach makes you feel even more exposed.

“This isn’t it,” you drone, “I’m taking it off–”

“Get out here,” he speaks over you.

“Lloyd, I hate it–”

“That shit’s designer so you walk your ass out here and give me a look,” he intones, “now, sweetheart.”

You hold back another frustrated exhale and move slowly. The leather creaks loudly and you cringe. You come around the divider and march over to the sofa. You stop before him and cross your arms.

“It’s too small.”

“Fuck,” he leans forward and steeples his hands, brushing his fingers up under his chin, “you look fucking hot.”

“Don’t–”

“Your tits look huge. Like… humongous–” He makes a motion as if squeezing your chest.

You stare at him, unable to conceal your anger. Is he just saying he likes it because he knows you don’t or is he really that tacky?

“Turn,” he spins his finger in the air. You take a breath and obey. As you do, he growls and slaps his thigh. “Damn, that ass. I mean, you can’t see it but let me tell you, it looks magnificent. The kinda ass a man could dive right into.”

“Right, thanks,” you face him again with a sneer, “can I take this shit off?”

“You can hike up that skirt and give daddy a ride,” he sits back as he drags his hands up his pants and pulls his knees apart. The bulge beneath the white pants is all too obvious.

“This isn’t the dress, Lloyd. There are a dozen more–”

“I know it’s not, but you gotta fuck me in it at least once,” he picks at his fly.

You cringe and slowly bend to grab the skirt, pushing it back at the split as you get closer. He pulls his dick above his pants and strokes himself, reaching for your hip as he guides you into his lap. You get on your knees as you fight the leather around you and he rubs his tip against your entrance.

You sink down onto him and he trails his fingertips up your body. He covers your tits with his hands and squeezes, bucking below you as he groans.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t think I’m ready to share these,” he leans forward and buries his face in your cleavage, shaking his head with a lewd noise. He pulls back and tilts his head up to look at you, “I’m just fine with a formula baby.”

You push him against the couch and rock your hips. It’s the only way to shut him up. And you’ll gladly take a moment of peace before they’re gone for good.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #unexpected #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #the gray man

416 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 1 year

Text

Things to Learn

Request: hiii idk if youve thought about this but what about a mean girl!yn and nerd!harry high school fic or something like that :))

A/N: it is what the request says, idk if this is exactly what you wanted but writing a mean girl!yn was different for me. I also wrote this from Harry’s third pov so that’s also different lol. Hope you enjoy it? Thanks for the req :) <3

———————————————

Harry hated girls like her. Hate was a strong word, he knew that. And he used it still.

He eyes her again as she sits on the lunch table and talks animatedly to her friends about something shallow or irrelevant. He goes back to the sandwich he had for lunch.

“She’s out of your league mate,” Harry’s best friend tells him.

“What?”

“YN? You’re staring at her. She’s out of your league. Like so far that even if you climbed a mountain and looked over everything you wouldn’t be able to see-“

“I got it,” Harry didn’t like her. He knew she was well out of his league and he didn’t care. He had one more year of this shite called high school and then he was off to uni. His sister always told him high school labels didn’t follow you there. “I don’t even like her. I was just looking.”

His friend makes a noise, he didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious. Ms. Easton partnered us in history probably because she’s not doing well. I’ve got the highest grade. But she’s insufferable.”

“You’re insufferable,” his friend shoots back. “If I was partnered with her I’d be shooting my shot. Every chance.”

“I’d rather shoot myself,” Harry mutters. He had history next period and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Their class had booked the library for research period and that meant suffering through it with YN.

He’s first to arrive at the library and books a computer. They were researching the royal family, he didn’t know what angle the paper was going to be from but he would figure it out later. Alone. Because YN was always too busy not giving a shit.

The truth was, he just didn’t understand girls like YN. How they could be so shallow and rude for no reason, he didn’t think the world was rainbows and unicorns but it was decent to just be a little nicer. She was judgemental, loud, and of course attractive as hell. But her personality ruined any good looks in his opinion. So even though he was staring at lunch, he didn’t find her very attractive.

“I guess we’re sitting here,” speak of the devil. Surprisingly YN is here before the bell goes off. She sits in the seat next to Harry and her bag is thrown on the floor.

“Hi to you too,” Harry mutters. He ignores her, continuing to flip through his textbook for the correct chapter.

“Have we decided on a topic?”

Harry grits his teeth. I don’t know YN have we? Instead he says, “No.”

“Oh, well why not just do it on what’s going on right now?”

“Because it’s a history class,” Harry finally look at her. He remembers it was a little nerve wracking to do that when they were first partnered but now his annoyance triumphed any nerves.

“And?” She scrunches her brows. “Isn’t that the point?”

She had no idea what she was talking about. He shakes his head and goes back to his textbook.

“You don’t have to be such a nerd all the time you know that?” She continues.

Harry ignores her.

“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. Who did she think she was?

“Can we just work?” Harry couldn’t stand her.

The bell rings. YN picks up her phone in a huff and Harry goes back to Googling for their project.

***

Harry packs his bag with the books he needs as students rush past him to go home. His bag weighed a million pounds and he’s pretty sure it aged his back 40 years but it was either his grades or his back that suffered.

“Hey Harry,” a voice calls out to him as we heads out the door. He turns to it; Raina, one of YN’s friends. She twirls her blonde hair and tilts her head. “It is Harry right?”

“Uhm,” suddenly Harry’s throat was parched. Raina was gorgeous and gorgeous girls never spoke to him.

“You’re cute,” she gets up close and personal with Harry and everything in that big brain of his liquifies and slides away. “So I heard you’re giving my bestie a hard time.”

“Your-uh,” what was wrong with him? Focus!

“My bestie! YN?”

“Oh,” the name snaps him out. Was this a prank, why was Raina talking to him? “W-what?”

“I thought you were smart,” she tilts her head again, this time Harry understands it to be condescending. “Did you not understand the question?”

Harry hears a snicker from behind him. His heart drops, he knew what was happening yet he walked right into it.

“Harry’s really smart,” YN’s voice comes from behind. “So smart he can’t even talk to me. Like, I’ll bring down your IQ or something right?”

“I never said that,” Harry turns, back to the wall like he was in some sort of fight for his life and he had to cover all his angles.

“Then what’s your problem?” YN demands. Her friend takes a back seat, staring at him from behind YN’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say I had one,” Harry mumbles.

“What? Speak up!” With one hand on her hip, YN was the image of a mean girl. Harry’s gaze flickers up to her face and he realizes she was actually angry. At him. He looks away.

“You’re so pathetic,” she tells him. “You can barely look me in the eye when I’m talking to you but you think you’re a hot shot just cuz you get straight As. You can take your intellectual superiority and shove it up your ass.”

He was surprised to hear her say intellectual superiority, then he realizes the irony of thinking that.

“This guy bothering you?”

Great. Harry hitches his backback higher on his shoulders. One of YN’s soccer star boyfriends had joined. He looks Harry up and down with a condescending smirk.

“No, I got it.” YN says but her friend opens her big mouth.

“He thinks he’s the smartest person here, he treats YN like shite.”

“Really?” He turns to Harry and now is when Harry realizes he was deep in. There was no way out.

“I’m sorry,” he looks YN in the eye and only her. He had to make a quick exit, find a way out of this before these meatheads decided to defend YN’s honour or something like that.

“Too late for sorry,” Raina says. Another guy—Brett joins the crowd.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“Nothing,” YN says while her eyes stay on Harry.

“Hey Harry! Mate! This guy helped me pass my maths last semester.”

“Yeah he’s a nerd,” the other guy says to Brett. “That’s the point.”

“Hey Brett,” Harry nods. He should go, he thinks. Make a move. Get out of this circle forming around him.

“He’s a dick to YN,” Raina reminds everyone. What was her issue? “And he’s always staring at her like a creep.”

YN turns to look at her friend. Raina widens her eyes and shrugs.

“What the fuck?” The other guy, Harry had no idea what his name was, steps closer to Harry. “Are you a fucking perv?”

Statistically, this guy with his brute force and reactivity was probably more likely to be a perv over the years than Harry. But Harry doesn’t think it’s a good time to say that.

“Anyway,” YN says and with that all eyes are on her. “Apology not accepted. I’m over this let’s go.”

She walks away from him, Raina eyes him and follows. Their friend gives Harry the stink eye and follows too. Brett’s left. He shrugs and finally leaves Harry alone.

Little by little the breath comes back to his lungs and with shaky steps Harry exits the building. Some students lingering in the hall stare as he goes, probably the audience to what almost went down. And this was why Harry hated YN.

***

Over the next week Harry tries to be less intellectually superior to YN and practices looking her in the eye. He doesn’t know why it was so hard.

And it surprises him when the words coming out of her mouth aren’t entirely superficial and basic. But she continues to verbally abuse and belittle him and Harry continues to take it, his ire growing more by the day.

Just on Tuesday, at lunch she’d sent one of her boyfriends to sit at his table where he threatened Harry. Harry’s friend had stared at his phone the whole time, traitor. And yesterday YN had listed for him all the ways he could improve his appearance during class.

“Your hair could use a nice trim,” she tells him. “And your glasses are so 1970s. Like not in a trendy way. And honestly Harry why do you wear clothes that are too big and too old. Like seriously…”

It was hard not to be a know-it-all when that’s what she wanted to spend her time talking about.

“My appearance isn’t really a priority for me,” Harry had said hoping to shut her up.

“It really should be. Hey,” she’d called out to a friend of hers in class. “Don’t you think Harry’s style is sad?”

“Him?” Her friend had asked, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say it in front of him. Harry had burned with embarrassment. “Yeah I reckon he could use a makeover.”

“Yeah maybe then he’d get a girlfriend. Get his nose out of his books.”

They laughed and the sound was haunting. Harry stayed staring at his book, gritting his teeth. He’d never had a girlfriend, gone on two dates in his life. It didn’t usually bother him but somehow YN made it feel like an open wound.

On Thursday, they have another research period.

“And how are we doing here?” Ms. Easton leans down and balances on their table. Harry and YN opted for a table and books this period.

“Good,” YN sits up. “Just finishing our research.”

“Good,” Ms. Easton smiles. “Did you two decide on a topic?”

Harry doesn’t look but he can feel her rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Harry wanted to do the royal family and their war legacy.”

“Hm.”

Harry was sensitive to feedback. When you’re smart you don’t get a lot of criticism, and when you do, it’s a hard pill to swallow. That’s why he was so sensitive to the tone of his teacher’s voice. He looks up to her. Was it just him or did she look a bit disappointed.

“S’not a good topic?” Harry asks. YN glances at him.

“Well,” the teacher crosses an arm over her abdomen and waves the other hand. She was choosing her words. “I was hoping putting the two of you together would produce an interesting project. Something out of the ordinary.”

“Oh.” Harry feels his grade flash in front of his eyes. Well, not flash but plummet.

“Hmph,” YN says in satisfaction. “Well Harry here felt very strongly about the topic.”

“Okay,” Ms. Easton pursues her lips. “It is a good topic. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it at the end of the month!”

As soon as their teacher is out of hearing range YN turns to Harry.

“I told you so.”

With that, she gets out of her seat and walks away. Out of the library, swiping the hall pass on her way out.

Suddenly he was hot. Very hot. Harry could feel the sweat dampen his shirt and he pulls the collar away from his neck. His project was disappointing? He was doing something wrong?

He stumbles up and finds Ms. Easton.

“Yes Harry?” She addresses him when she’s done with the pair she’d been talking to.

“Um what you said,” Harry clears his throat. “About the project. And pairing me with YN. I don’t understand…should we change it?”

“Up to you two to decide!” She says vaguely. “I can’t pick your topics for you. And you should only change it if you think you have enough time.”

“But our topic is disappointing?” Harry didn’t understand why Ms. Easton would make those comments and not just tell them upfront what she wants.

“No not at all!” she guides Harry to a bookshelf where it’s quieter. “War is a classic topic. But it’s also a very…straightforward topic do you understand?”

Classic was good. Classic was timeless, is that not what she wanted!?

“Harry,” she chides when he continues staring at her. “Listen. You’re a bright kid. Really, proper smart. I know you’ll do amazing in your future regardless of what I say in this class.”

It was YN. There was a but coming and she was going to say something about YN.

“But I’ve had a few bright kids in my class before. The thing about history is it repeats and the pattern I see is that there’s a creative energy even in something like history that’s lost on big brains like yours. That’s why I paired you with YN. I thought you two would complement the way you think really well. I was hoping to see a new topic come out of it. That’s not to say your current topic isn’t fabulous. I think if you want to continue with it, I’m excited to learn more.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say. Actually, he’s embarrassed. This whole time he thought being partnered with YN was because she was failing or doing horribly. When really it was because the teacher thought he could use some help. Intellectual superiority 100, Harry 0.

“You two are getting along right?” Ms. Easton probes.

“Yeah,” Harry lies.

“She’s letting you call the shots?” She asks casually.

“Ehm,” Harry wavers. He had taken the reigns immediately because he didn’t think she could handle them. He feels his face turn more pink.

“The great thing about this project is to collaborate. Throughout history some of the best things were brought from collaborating…”

Harry zones her out and looks back at their desk. YN is still not there. Maybe she was skipping. But he spots her bag, that wasn’t true.

“Oh I better go help out your classmate,” Ms. Easton points to where someone has their hand up. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry shakes the funk off. Maybe he’ll listen to YN more now but they only had a week and a half and it would be crazy to change their topic now.

But as he sits in his seat and waits for YN to return, to collaborate with, he feels it again. The sinking feeling. Like something was his fault.

YN was the mean girl but he hasn’t been the most friendly either.

After another 10 minutes go by he gets out of his seat and grabs the second hall pass.

He spots around the toilets, moves through the halls, and makes his way back to a stairwell. There YN leans against a wall on her phone. She doesn’t look up as he walks down until he stands in front of her.

“Oh,” the glow of her phone moves off her face, muffled by her sweater. “I thought you were random.”

“Are you coming back?” Harry asks. Still, his eyes flit from her face to her neck, settling on the wall behind her.

“Why does it matter? You’re doing the project with or without me.”

His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton as he swallows. He should apologize. He should-

“Why are you so awkward for?” She demands. “Like. You’re smart and all but you’re kind of weird.”

Nevermind. He was so not apologizing.

“Hello? And then you go so quiet when I say anything direct. You can be smart as shite but you’re not making it anywhere if you can’t even talk to a girl without staring a hole into the space beside her.”

Harry’s mum always said to be himself. This was him, smart (nerdy—fine), quiet, awkward, and bookish. But it wasn’t easy to be this way when girls like YN existed. They were confident and loud, and she called him out like his sister did. But she was nothing like her. She was beautiful and she knew it. And she was rude, but maybe her mum told her to be herself too and this was it.

“What are you thinking?” She demands.

“What?” Harry asks in surprise.

“I want to know what the fuck you’re thinking in that big brain! You’re so awkward! Jeez!”

“I’m-I-why?”

“I don’t get you.” She gives him a once over. “So? What were you thinking?“

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously I-“

“Tell me.”

“I…” Harry trails away. He turns away from her and walks to the other end of the stairwell, pivots, and stands a few feet in front of her. “I was just wondering if this is who you really are.”

“Me? How am I?” Eyes narrowed, she sounds both curious and defensive.

“Really?” Harry meets her eye. “You’ve got such an attitude, you’re rude and loud and pushy, and I don’t know why you don’t like me but you’re always so condescending so I was just wondering if that’s who you are. Like when your mum says to be yourself, is that who you chose?”

Her mouth drops, then it snaps shut and her arms cross over in defence.

“You know why I don’t like you?” She asks. “Because you’ve got an attitude. You’re rude and pushy and condescending to fuck. So let me ask you—is that who you are? Is that who mummy tucks into bed each night?”

Harry’s impressed how she’s turned it around on him. He doesn’t take it seriously until she breaks eye contact and looks away.

“If I listened to my mom’s advice, I would be a bloody doormat in this place. I’d be used and discarded like a wet wipe. I have to be rude and pushy. And don’t even get me started on boys like you, who call girls pushy just because they know what they want. I can’t afford to be who I am, like you can, because I don’t have the privilege of being a bloke.”

They have a stare-off, mostly Harry is just surprised at everything coming out of her mouth. She goes on.

“I know who you are Harry. I know you’ve got a mum and sister you’re close with. I’ve seen you around town. For someone with two women like that in your life you can look up to, you sure are a misogynistic prick.”

Harry’s left stunned. He didn’t think she ever noticed him let alone know him. He replays her words, her glimpse of vulnerability. If her words were an essay, there would be no red ink. It was hard for him to accept but she was right. From the start, when Ms. Easton paired them he made a million assumptions about her. That were all proven wrong. And Ms. Easton was right too: he was smart and good at being smart but maybe there was more than that.

“Now you’re quiet again!?” YN sounds defeated.

“No wait,” Harry speaks up before she leaves. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”

“Yeah whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m over this.”

“Actually,” he steps in the same direction she does as she heads for the door. She stops in surprise. “Actually I am sorry. I was being intellectually superior. You’re smart too. I’m sorry.”

She looks at him warily, like he was going to laugh at her and tell her he was joking. When he doesn’t, when he maintains eye contact even though it kills him inside she backs away. Her face relaxes, like she’s accepted backing down. It was quite a sight for Harry, to see YN the Mean Girl who’s been making the last couple weeks hell for him, transform into something softer. Something that—he was still nervous to look at for too long, but one he could look at a little easier.

“I don’t want to write about the royal family and their fucking war legacy.”

Harry wasn’t expecting that.

“That’s basic as hell, I’m falling asleep just imagining us presenting it. It’s like buying drugstore when we can be buying Sephora.”

She squints at him, waiting for a rebuttle but he lets her have this one. After what Ms. Easton said, Harry was realizing that being smart didn’t mean you were right all the time. And he also had no idea what her example meant.

“Wow. Nothing?”

“No, I agree.” Harry smiles, a little embarrassed but wow. Her mouth splits into a grin and it changes her whole face. She’s suddenly younger, carefree, in that moment as Harry remembers how to breathe, he sees the person her mother tells her to be.

“What?” The staircase dims as she takes the smile back. “Are you going to go back to being mute.”

“No,” I was just admiring how beautiful you looked right now. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were. But you’re also way out of my league so now I have to act cool about it. “I just don’t know if we have time-“

“Stop.” She puts her hand up and walks towards him, back to the doors. “I’m going to come up with a pitch so good I’ll be picking your jaw off the floor and wiring it shut again. And…you can pitch your sad topic to me. The best one wins.”

“But we can just vote our own,” Harry points out the flaw in her plan, ignoring her threat.

“I think we’re both mature enough to hear each other out?” She opens the door back to the hall and Harry scrambles through it to keep up.

“I know I am,” Harry says it before he can think. Uh oh.

“You’re cheeky,” YN eyes him but she doesn’t look upset. Actually, she looks delighted. “Not just a quiet nerd hm?”

Harry shrugs, they had really been their stereotypes the last few weeks.

“So what you said before, you think I’m smart?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.” Harry felt uncomfortable now on the spot.

“So like you think I can be the future prime minister?”

“I…don’t know about that.” Harry side eyes her to notice she’s smiling. She was teasing him.

The bell rings out as they near the library.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” she says to him. She shoots him another smile and Harry tries to memorize it, second guessing he ever thought she was unattractive.

***

That Friday it’s like Harry and YN never had that conversation. She ignores him in the halls as usual, her friends sneer at him when they catch him looking their way. As much as Harry didn’t want to be disappointed, he was. Why did he think anything was going to be different?

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her smile was a loop in his head any time his mind wanders. No wonder their whole grade was in love with her.

“You’re staring. Again.” Harry’s mate says at lunch. This time Harry looks away quickly, embarrassed. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “She’s just been making my life hell since we partnered up.”

“Yeah I heard those guys roughened you up at lunch the other day.”

They didn’t. But they did aim a basketball around the net as Harry was walking by yesterday and it had hit him. His glasses had fallen off but luckily nothing broke.

“Just one more week,” Harry mutters. Earlier this week he was counting down the days. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When the bell rings signalling the end of lunch, Harry is surprised when YN falls in line with him to their class.

“Pitch ready?” She asks. She smelled amazing like flowers and tea. Focus.

“Yep,” Harry didn’t put much effort into it. He didn’t have the same passion he did before and he was curious what YN had.

They get the last 20 minutes of class to work on their project. YN sits behind Harry so he turns when their time starts.

“Me first,” YN brings out a binder. She pulls out a folded piece of paper that she hands. He opens it and glitter falls into his lap.

“Ugh!” Harry jumps up but despite that his crotch sparkles. “What is this?”

YN’s eyes are lit up and she hides her giggles behind her hand. Harry stares, turning pink. Why would she do that?

“I’m so-“ she covers her mouth again. “I’m sorry!” She’s shaking as she tries to stop laughing. It’s kind of contagious and Harry cracks a smile.

“My pants are covered in glitter,” he deadpans which send her head onto the table as she shakes with laughter.

“It was just supposed to lighten the mood ohmygod,” YN can barely finish her sentence.

That was it. Harry tries to pick up whatever glitter he can, using the paper (he realizes it was her pitch) as a dustpan. He taps her behind the shoulder and she jumps up to turn, in that moment he dumps the paper on her and sits back down in satisfaction.

“Now we’re even,” Harry tell her. Her mouth is open in shock.

“No!” She tries to dust it off but her crotch, that Harry glances at, is also shimmering. “We were even after I did that to you! This is! Oh my god.”

She stands over Harry, her eyes glancing at his pants. A snicker escapes. Then she’s back in her seat laughing.

“I have to say your pitch is not going well,” Harry reminds her.

“Oh my god,” she tried to get serious but she’s still grinning. Harry doesn’t mind.

“Should I go first?” He asks.

“No no I got this. Okay. The royal family and…their influence on food. Now before you think it’s stupid did you know the matriarch actually has a list of forbidden foods. And if we go back, and look at the countries they invaded we can see…” YN grows serious, but passionate, as she begins pitching the topic. And before anything just her passion alone convinces Harry they had to do this topic. “From land to table.”

“Okay.” Harry says.

“Okay? Like that was just okay?”

“No, I vote your topic.”

“Oh my god really?” She lights up and it’s blinding. Harry wanted to make her light up every chance he got. Focus.

“Yeah I think it’s interesting. And different. But we only have a week.”

“That’s okay!” YN opens her binder and pulls out another sheet. “I did a bunch of research. I couldn’t really sleep last night cuz of…anyway. So our library has all these books that can help. And we can spend the weekend catching up right? We can meet at the local library and work. So we’re caught up by Monday.”

Wow. She really thought this through.

“Isn’t that too nerdy for you?” Harry has to ask. Didn’t she have something cooler to do on the weekend.

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. That was the YN he knew. “Just because I’m not a nerd doesn’t mean I don’t care about my grades. You should know my lowest grade has been 82 this year.”

Wow. Even though Harry never scored below 95 that was still impressive coming from her. Which it shouldn’t be, he reminds himself. She was smart—just in a different way.

“Okay let’s do it!” Harry was excited. He suddenly understood what Ms. Easton was trying to say, he was missing creativity.

“Yay!” She squeezes his arm and Harry’s never felt more aware of his arm in his life. YN notices him freezing and she pulls away. “Sorry. I didn’t give you my cooties did I?”

She was quick. But it was funny and Harry can’t help but let out a snort.

“Is that a laugh? Are you laughing at something I said about you?”

Harry shakes his head and turns in his seat but his face is stuck in the grin. YN continues to heckle him from behind but she’s interrupted by the bell.

“Give me your number,” she says as he packs up. “So we can coordinate tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry pulls up his contacts and hands her his phone. “Just put yours in.”

“Okay, I’m texting myself too,” she types for a while and then hands it back. It’s only later when she texts him at the end of the day does he click her contact.

Future Prime Minister YN ❤️

The picture is one of her from below with a serious face on. When he squints he realizes she’s flipping him off. It’s funny, and Harry feels like he sees her now. Even though she couldn’t always be herself like he could, Harry now understood her enough to recognize the glimpses of herself she was giving him.

It’s destined that every nerd falls for the mean girl. Harry never believed that until now. As YN becomes more recognizable to him, his crush grows a little more. He had to nip this in the bud, he realizes. Because she would never feel the same way. In a million years. But maybe they could be friends. Maybe it was time for Harry to discover who he could be when he wasn’t spending all his time being nerdy. He had a lot to learn from her, he realizes. And the one thing he was good at was studying.

505 notes · View notes

doberbutts · 3 months

Note

genuine question coming from a place of good faith: is it wrong of me to be scared for transmascs right now? the harassment of transfems by both radfems and now even tumblr staff is fucking horrendous, but im terrified that due to so much recent discourse, people are going to blame transmascs for it and hate us even more than they already do.

i genuinely do care about transfems and it’s utterly ghoulish what’s going on right now, and it needs to stop, but I can’t help but get this awful sinking feeling over how it could affect transmascs by proxy — but I’m not sure if that’s wrong of me? is it wrong to worry about, should I be focusing entirely on transfems right now? is it transmisogynistic of me to be concerned about both of these things instead of just the one? I don’t know if what I’m feeling is wrong and it’s stressing me out so badly :(

I don't think it's ever wrong to be concerned about multiple real problems at once.

I have stayed pretty quiet on this situation, mostly just adding stuff to my queue if I agree with it but not weighing in personally. Mainly the reason is that I genuinely don't know anything about the trans woman in question who all of this fuss is for. But, I have seen other trans blogs get nuked for seemingly flimsy reasons, and I have seen self-professed terfs and radfems crowing victory with the latest victims of their mass-reporting.

And I think this is a bit of a PR nightmare, but I also think this site does have a serious harassment problem the staff does not take nearly seriously enough while it also seems to punish in equal amounts blogs that get harassed AND blogs that were literally just minding their own business, with really the main similarities being that they are blogs owned by people belonging to seriously marginalized and at-risk demographics talking about controversial topics like racism and LGBT politics.

It is really quite frustrating that there are now accusations that trans mascs talking about their own oppression are behind this, when not only is there no proof behind the claim but also even without a lot of direct knowledge I am seeing a certain demographic cheering that their mass reports worked and I gotta say, that demographic largely isn't trans mascs.

I also think there is a lot of hypocrisy floating around, because some of these blogs I'm seeing mad about this latest streak of bans are also people who themselves have advocated for harassing others and mass-reporting others who simply fail the vibe check while just existing as themselves, off this website. And while those users don't have the power of the literal CEO, they're failing to see how they've contributed to the problem of this website's user culture of "send the most vile thing you can think of en mass until they break and leave and good riddance".

I say this as someone who also has been harassed by a band of people wanting to chase me off of this website. It is why I don't interact much with dogblr anymore. I have had several people who joined in that dog pile later approach me and apologize, but the damage is still done and I am not interested in engaging with a "community" so willing to tear someone apart on flimsy accusations that weren't even true. I almost killed myself that night, I had a mental break and turned off my blog completely for several days just to make it stop, and returned to see people similarly crowing with delight that they'd successfully run me off. It's happened to me, and the perpetrators were almost entirely white cisgender women, and I have been very reliably told by multiple other people that both my blackness and my transgender status were significant motivators in their poor behavior.

This also happening in the wake of yet another transgender teen killed by their peers has left me simply mentally and physically exhausted. I began involving myself more in the transgender community on here because I wanted this to stop. I wanted to help uplift my siblings and get them out of the pit before the whole thing caved in. It's feeling very hopeless right now for trans kids around the world and in the mean time it's also apparently my fault a trans woman I don't even know got banned I guess..

In any case. Hold your head up. We'll get through this, somehow. We always have. We always will.

64 notes · View notes

sacharinee · 1 year

Text

peter moments part three!

pairing: peter parker x reader

w/c: 1918

a/n: hi i hope u guys r having a great new year so far :) i kept this in the drafts for weeks and im throwing it out here now. school is back up so im sad again but i hope u guys r all well <3 enjoy!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you not knowing your own boyfriend is new york’s friendly neighborhood spider-man has to be the funniest thing ever to peter.

it started sophomore year when you and peter had teensy crushes on each other. you and he often had study dates at one another’s. however, this usually ended up with you falling asleep halfway and him having to pull an all-nighter to teach you the topics of your exam.

peter is hard at work at your desk, preparing for the calc midterm you two had the next day. while you were supposed to be studying, you found comfort on your bed, watching youtube videos of crazy spider boy sightings in queens instead. it wasn’t your fault anyways; the viral footage of the superhero is all that everyone’s talking about recently.

“pete,” you called out. he doesn’t budge when you call his name, still scribbling math formulas you don’t even want to attempt to understand.

“peterrr,” you singsonged. he drops his pencil and sniffles, turning your swivel chair around to face you, “what’s up?”

“y-yea i’m fine” he answers with a reassuring smile. you don’t know what it is about him recently but you can tell something is off with him; he’s leaving school early, arriving late, and completely exhausted for your study nights, and he seems to be on edge whenever you’re around.

you usually berated him, advising him to take some of the load off and spend some more time for himself, even supporting his decision in quitting band. although, you think your guidance has something to do with your feelings of loneliness and detachment away from peter.

“okayyy,” you draw out unconvinced, “well, have you seen that new clip of the weird spider thingy? it’s crazy! look at it,” you shove your phone in his face. you don’t notice the way he smiles at you in secret, peter thinks it’s adorable how excited and easily distracted you get. but he knows it's going to be the death of him when you call at 3 am asking him to explain the concept of derivatives for your shared calc exam.

he’s hesitant to look away from your face. you’re in such awe when you stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at your screen, he thinks you’re the prettiest.

when his attention does fall on your phone, he’s quick to realize what clip of his alter ego is playing and abruptly grabs the device, shutting it off. “hey! what are y-” “you know that’s all fake right? it’s all done on a computer?” “what? no, it’s not. look at him!”

“i’m looking and it seems like it’s all cgi to me.” peter’s doing anything he can to deter you in the wrong direction, anything he can grasp.

“well cgi or not, i think he’s so hot,” you defend. “i mean, can you believe it? with his bare hands! how much does that car weigh? has to be like a few thousand pounds, right? and the speed it's going at? oh my god, he’s so strong.” you gush.

you miss the way peter’s face glows like fire. he’s red, really red. all blushing and trying to control his breathing. you think he’s hot? him? and strong too?

it’s times like these when peter struggles to compose himself and resists telling you the truth. he takes a deep breath, pinches his nose bridges, and opens his mouth, “actually, y/n/n, um”

you cut him off, grabbing your phone back, “it’s so crazy. i heard he’s out every night fighting bad guys and everything. i hope he has someone taking care of him too.”

peter stands there, mouth open, unsure of what to do next. he realizes you’re right, telling you would be selfish, and he can’t risk putting you in danger.

he purses his lips in disappointment and looks back at you. you’re in your previous position, laying down with one leg over the other while you hold your phone close up watching spider-man do backflips for new york citizens. you don’t have a single care in the world. and peter would like to keep it that way.

so he bites his tongue and goes back to studying.

—

a few days later, you and peter arrive back to your room after school.

“thanks for staying up all night with me the other day. i really didn’t know what was going on calc,” you graciously thank him. peter was running on a two-hour power nap before he took that midterm with you, but it was worth it when you came rushing to him, squealing with excitement. you tackled him with a big hug, showing him your exam with a b- written in red marker proudly.

“of course,” he blushes. peter always makes time for you, even if it gets too inconvenient for him.

he makes his way into your room dropping his bag by your door and walks over to your bed to rest, “i’m really proud of you, you know? that test was hard and ms. warren didn’t even curve-” peter stops dead in his tracks when he sees what’s laying on your bed.

a miniature spider-man plush decorates your comfy mattress.

“what’s wrong?” you come up behind him. you cleaned your room this morning knowing you and peter would be hanging out later on so it shouldn’t be too messy.

peter laughs, “you uh, you sleep with that thing?” pointing to your beloved plush. you quickly grab it in its defense, “yea, so what?” you have an adorably angry look on your face which peter knows all too well.

he smiles at you, “n-nothing. it’s cute.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

it only got worse as time went on.

you rush through harry’s front door; his lavish loft that his father bought for him to keep the two of them separated, was often used for your friend group to hang out at. your friends, harry, mj, ned, betty, and peter were all waiting for you to arrive, and you were running late due to an unexpected emergency stop.

“oh my god, finally. we’re starving, where were you?” ned groans. you might’ve kept them waiting with the pizza you promised to bring. peter quickly stands up from the couch and walks towards you, grabbing the large boxes from your hands. he spares you a sweet smile with a kiss on the cheek and whispers a soft greeting to you.

now that peter had the courage to properly ask you to be his girlfriend a couple of months ago, you would think he has the guts to tell you the truth. however, he always decided against it, opting to keep spider-man under the radar when it came to you. it certainly got more difficult when he’d come to your place with a limp and sweaty hair all while you would ask countless questions asking if he was feeling okay or if he ate earlier that day. you’re just a curious person by nature.

“i know, i’m sorry i’m late, buuut…” you leave a dramatic pause. “i was out getting these!”

your friends watch you stumble taking your shoes off and holding it in front of them. all you receive are blank stares and confused faces in return.

mj’s the first to speak up, “crocs?”

“no, not the crocs,” you walk up closer with your shoes on display, “the spider-man jibbits!”

your squealing captures peter’s attention when he drops the pizza boxes off on the kitchen counter.

“wait- that’s why you came late? to buy your little jibbits?” harry remarks. “they’re not just any other jibbits, harry, they’re spider-” “yea spider-man, i know.”

ned piques “h-hold on, you do know that-” peter rushes behind you, shaking his head, waving his hands frantically, urging his best friend to shut up silently.

“that uh, peter is… and he, uhm i-” ned visibly gulps, “i have to use the bathroom.” he hurriedly runs off to what you assume is the restroom and you look at your friends and peter weirdly.

“what’s his problem?” you throw your shoes by the front door and wash your hands, grabbing a plate to put a slice of pizza on top. peter stands there, wide-eyed with flushed cheeks and chest heaving, a tell-tale sign he’s nervous or stressed. everyone on the couch stares back at peter while he stares at wherever ned ran off to.

you offer him your slice of pizza, “are you okay?” while nodding his head peter gulps too, “mhm.” he gives you an awkward smile and grabs his pizza from you as you take the back of your hand placing it against his neck and then on his forehead. “you’re getting kinda warm, pete. you should drink some more water. i’ll get it for you.”

you go back into the kitchen, fetching him a glass of water while he sits back down on the couch beside his friends.

“she doesn’t know yet?” mj whispers. “how does she not know?” “even i know you’re spider-man, and that’s saying something” betty teases.

“it’s,” peter sighs, “it’s complicated.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

at this point, your friends began to bet how much longer it would take for you to catch on. they even love fueling your obsession with spider-man, sending tiktoks, edits, and new footage of the superhero.

it’s a few days after christmas and you and your friends found themselves lounging at harry’s sitting together near the christmas tree.

“okay y/n,” harry sets his gift in front of you, “your turn.”

this year, you and your friends decided on doing a fun secret santa for each other. you were sad in finding out that you and peter didn’t receive each other, but that didn’t stop you guys from getting personalized gifts for one another. you and your boyfriend are fully clad in matching pj's with santa hats on top of your heads.

“hmmm” you ponder. “is it… keys to a new car? orrr a new phone? ooh! or the new louboutin shoes they released last week?” you hold your present close to you and tap against it while a million ideas rush through your head. harry’s dad is rich; your imagination is unlimited. you once saw harry gift a laptop once for a guy he barely knew.

“it’s even better.”

you hum in response, carefully digging out the tissue to pull out his mysterious gift. your fingers feel something soft, and you slowly lift it out of the bag.

“oh my god! no way!” his gift leaves you gasping and jumping in your seat. you hold out your christmas present out in front of you.

everyone stares at you in puzzlement, “socks?” mj questions.

“only the best socks ever!” you squeal enthusiastically. peter looks at harry dumbfounded, only to find him mischievously smirking back at him. “i’ve gotta go put these on,” you run away excitedly with your gift like a little kid. peter shakes his head in disapproval towards him, your friends giggling at harry’s antics.

“you better tell her soon man, or someone might think she’s spider-man’s girlfriend, instead.”

“n-no! are you kidding? she can’t know, she’d freak-"

moments later you come back out squealing, showing off your clad feet completely decked out in your brand new spider-man socks.

458 notes · View notes

margowritesthings · 2 years

Text

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 2150 words

warnings: disgustingly cute fluff

anon requested: okay okay i have two!!! 1) “when it comes to you… i’m weak” and 2) a sweet and simple “may i?” so so hot omfg. Arthur just being a big strong man but so very careful and gentle with you because he has the biggest soft spot for you <3

a/n: sorry this is so late anon! hope you enjoy. I ended up really loving this, i've been feeling dead romantic lately so here is some disgustingly cute arthur morgan. I listened to this song a lot while I was writing it- for some reason my arthur x reader ideas often remind me of amy winehouse songs?

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj @musicallisto @reaveries

The whiskey burns your throat and causes you to force back a splutter. You’re sure you’re never gonna get used to the damn drink, but that and beer were all the Van Der Linde's stock and… well, you are a Van Der Linde, now. Arthur looks on at you from across the campfire wearing an amused grin and you know instantly that he’s noticed your grimace. Of course he has; nothing gets past him when it comes to you and your little nuances. If it wasn’t for Javier’s sweet melody, joined with Micah’s somewhat less sweet, awfully sung words, you’re almost certain he’d be teasing you right now. It is a strange feeling, disappointment for lost jokes at your own expense, but strange feelings had been a staple of your life since you had started seeing Arthur in secret.

3 feet, a campfire, Javier, Micah, and John separate the two of you, but every time you catch his eye, everything and everyone melts away. The warmth in your cheeks each time he silently speaks to you through a raise of his brow or a cocky smirk puts the campfire to shame. You take another sip of your drink. It doesn’t go down any smoother, but you get a little better at hiding the fact. You look over to see if Arthur has noticed, but he’s turned to John, hunched over and speaking passionately, most likely about the latest job or the next one. Micah’s singing gets louder, completely drowning out Javier’s guitar just as his improvised song gets onto the topic of whores. You flinch as his drunken voice booms loudly in your ear, vibrating your skull. He smells like strong liquor, but not in the way that Arthur often does. This kind seems to make you feel nauseous.

“Back off, Micah, y’hurting my ears.” You glare at him, before realising your mistake. You’d caught his attention, practically dragged his eyes to you, so he was serenading you personally now, his whiskey doused breath overtaking your senses completely in all the worst ways. Your not-so-gentle shove to the arm stops his song mid-sentence, his harsh laughter splitting what little peace is left in the moment.

“Oh, c’mon, baby, I-“

“Micah!”

You’d never know how Micah was going to justify himself, as Arthur’s voice cut through the air like a knife thrown at the speed of light. He almost jumps out of his skin, like a rat caught in a crossfire, before attempting a recovering, forced laugh.

“Oh, calm down, cowpoke. I’m just messin’ with her. She ain’t yours.” The jab of his bony elbow into your side actually hurts, but not nearly as much as the beating Micah would have surely gotten had Arthur not worried he’d out your little secret before you were ready. He appears to weigh up the best course of action for you and your comfort, just barely managing to keep his fists to himself. You see the muscles flex in his hands as they ache to pummel the rat’s nose into his face, which you wouldn’t exactly hate to see, but appreciate the lack of a huge scene caused.

“She ain’t no-ones but her own, jackass, and she wants her space, so get lost.”

And after a lifetime of eye rolls thrown at the kinds of women who swoon, you finally get it.

But Arthur’s wrong. He’s so wrong. You are his, completely and truly. You love him, you’ve known that for a while now, even if you haven’t told him yet, but it isn’t until this very moment that you realise just how unfathomable it is. It hits all at once, the revelation that you will never again experience the banality of an ordinary life, could never again be one of those folk who settle. It can only ever be this: the bliss of a life with Arthur Morgan, or the torture of a life without. This would consume you, for better or worse, for the rest of your existence.

And what an existence it’s turning out to be.

It knocks you, taking all the breath from your lungs when the intensity of it all truly sinks in. You hate that you’re sitting next to Micah Bell when it happens, especially considering his stench is spinning your head more so than it already is. You need air. You need space. You need… to get away from Micah.

You’re pulled apart like opposing magnets, the euphoria of your revelation and the discomfort of your physical situation fighting inside you. A brief smile is thrown in Arthur’s direction, a silent thanks, as you stand and turn your back to the fire and the people surrounding it, making a path straight for the lakeside.

There’s a purpose to your walk as you stride past the table, where Hosea and Lenny are in heated debate, past Dutch’s tent, all closed up with the glow of subtle candlelight bleeding through the canvas, all the way to the overturned log so many of the Van Der Linde’ found sanctuary at when they needed the space to think. It could never be considered ‘your’ spot, but there is something about the way the moonlight shines in the water and the trees rustle in a gentle wind that makes you feel like you could be the only person who has ever felt this particular way on a night like this.

Crickets are chirping and you’re just far enough away from the hubbub of camp that Micah’s voice is wonderfully distant. You breathe in through your nose, beautifully fresh, cool air filling your lungs and leaving with a sigh. You can’t seem to stop the smile pulling your lips upwards when you think of what this profound love with Arthur Morgan will entail, all Micah-caused discomfort dissipating into the peace.

Footsteps rustle the grass behind you. You don’t know how you know, but you do. It’s him. Your love. The smile he throws your way when you turn to him brings back the warmth inside you that you’re missing thanks to being so far away from the fire. You return it with ease.

“Darlin’.” He greets, tipping his hat to you as he approaches the log, stepping over it and sitting right next to you, pulling his tobacco tin out of his pocket and popping it open, “Y’alright? I’m sorry about Micah, y’know I would’ve done more if-”

“I’m okay. Really.” Oh, how could he not know? He did everything. The smell of dried tobacco reaches your nose and you feel that rush of comfort that only something so inexplicably Arthur can bring. You watch as his expert hands roll up a cigarette. They work subconsciously, following Arthur’s little routine you’ve gotten mesmerised by so many times now.

“He’s a jackass. I don’t know what’s gotten into Dutch that he thinks he’s any good for any of us. I’m just sorry y’have to put up with him.” His tongue darts out from between his teeth to run a quick line down the roll, placing it right between your teeth. You keep still while he takes a match out from the tin and cups his hands right against your face, lighting the cigarette. You inhale, coughing a little and handing the smoke back to Arthur, who is chuckling at you. You rarely smoked, but always seemed to ask to bum one whenever you’d drank too much whiskey. Arthur found it adorable, it was one of your little quirks, and apparently has started to anticipate your craving. It doesn’t go unnoticed, just how in tune he is with you. If anything, it confirms everything all the more. Arthur takes a long toke of his cigarette, exhaling with an ease you don’t think you could ever master.

“Well, that much is true: he is a jackass. But you… You did more than enough, Arthur. Y’always do.” Your hand reaches to hold his, cupping over it and squeezing. His light laughter subsides, the tip of the cigarette glowing brighter and lighting his smile up each time he takes in the smoke.

He looks as though he’s about to respond, wave off your compliments like they’re nothing, but before he can, your attention is captured by the music. It’s coming from Dutch’s tent, which isn’t too far away, so it’s loud enough that you can hear every crackle in the record as it softly plays. Arthur’s cigarette is stubbed out against the wood, flicked away in one swift movement. He stands, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, m’lady?”

“Why of course.”

You’re quick to oblige, feeling that warmth in your belly only Arthur can heat. He’s so sweet, that man you’ve watched crack a nose with one swift punch. Those hands that have hunted and killed and robbed and hurt fit oh so beautifully cupping your own. He helps you up, pulling you a little closer to the source of the music before placing his free hand on your waist.

Dutch’s tent is shielding you both from view of the camp, so you take advantage of the fact you can fully nuzzle into Arthur, your head falling to his chest. It's a perfect fit, your height against Arthur’s meaning he can fit his chin atop your head as he sways you both.

The heat of him radiates through his shirt and your blouse, covering you in a comfort unmatched by anything on this earth. In his arms, you feel the safest you’ve ever felt in your life, despite the fact that you’ve never been in so much danger. Tensions were so high in the gang, the price on all your heads increasing with each job messed up by some dodgy tip off. But in this embrace, dancing with the man you’re sure you were made for, none of it matters.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I… I got something to tell ya.”

Arthur pulls his chest away from you to look down, his eyes roaming you, a hint of panic mixed in with the curiosity.

“Is everything okay? You’re not… you’re not ill or anything are y-“

“I love you.”

The worry evaporates instantly, Arthur’s formerly knitted brows and forehead untensing as those three little words register. He stammers silently, mouth moving but no words reaching you.

“You don’t have to say it back.” You add quickly and honestly, not wanting to pressure him into reciprocation of the sentiment. “But I wanted you to know that I do. I love you. And if you’ll have me, I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, Arthur.”

Both your hands rest on his chest now, the pair of you still swaying. The candlelight seeping through the tent behind you lights Arthur’s glistening eyes. You could stay in this moment forever, feeling your heart hammering against your chest, flushed against Arthur like it’s trying to break free and join his.

He's quiet for a second and your breath hitches. You mean it, he doesn't need to say it back, you just need him to know it's true. You’ll love him today and tomorrow and forever, if he’ll let you.

“I love you too, darlin’. God, I love you so much. You’re… you’re everything t’me.” Before he can carry on whispering those sweet nothings, you’re on your tiptoes, arms flung around his shoulders to press a passionate kiss onto Arthur’s lips. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you even further into him, returning every bit of emotion in each and every movement.

You only pull away when it absolutely cannot wait any longer, the declarations spilling out of your lips like you might explode if they don’t.

“I wanna do this. Properly, I mean. Stop hidin’ because I love you and I don’t care who knows it.”

Arthur raises a brow, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side as he considers you, “Alright. If y’think you can handle those idiots back there, then let’s do it. Properly.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine, cowpoke. And so will you, you’re the strongest man I know.” Your hands, previously splayed on his chest, hold onto Arthur’s collar as he shakes his head.

“Not with you. When it comes to you… I’m weak.” It’s so cheesy, but Arthur being cheesy is one of your favourite things in the world, so you smile up at him and close your eyes, letting the purest of emotions soak into you and the music sway you. Arthur takes your hand, pulling it over your head and spinning you. You giggle, clumsily returning to his embrace. You both stay like that for a while: interlocked, Arthur occasionally humming to you quietly or spinning you around. It’s perfect. And when you return to the fireside, fingers intertwined, everybody looks, but nobody is really that surprised. They’ve all known it from the start.

It was inevitable. The two of you are made for each other.

#arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan red dead #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan angst #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redepmtion 2 #arthur morgan fanfic #Arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr #arthur morgan drabble

614 notes · View notes

sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

Note

let’s try this again😅 negan is negan; a big, loud-mouthed, cocky bastard, but as soon as reader comes into his line of view, he’s putty in her hands. i’m talking hanging onto her every word, punishing anyone who looks at her for longer than three seconds, completely obsessed with her.

honestly whatever you want to do with this is fine, i just wanna imagine being fawned over for a little while 😌

LOOOOOVE THIS. This is a little bit of a jump in time from where you're at right now but I kept it as vague as possible!

"So, when did you meet him?" Michonne asks, her voice wavering a bit as I shift anxiously in my seat, not completely comfortable that I have to talk about Negan to his enemies.

"His men found me in the woods when he was in charge of the Sanctuary." I respond simply, biting anxiously at the inside of my cheek as my frown deepens, watching Michonne turn to look back at Rick.

"And what was your first impression?"

"Well, well, well!" A man cheers, appearing beside me, swinging his bat in front of him and the room quiets. I fidget in my seat, my mouth drying as I look up at him with wide eyes. "What might your name be?" He asks, kneeling down in front of me, his eyes softening.

"Y/n." I mutter, clearing my throat with a shiver. He nods slowly, turning back to the men behind him.

"Someone get my friend Y/n here some clothes and some food." He grins, his eyes never leaving mine for one second as I feel my heart rate begin to decline, my fear dissipating as he offers me a hand. "Let me show you around, how 'bout that?"

"You're telling me he was kind to you?" Rick asks, his brows furrowed in complete and utter disbelief.

"He welcomed me into the Sanctuary with no issues. He saw to it that I was settled and knew my way around." I explain, eyes darting back and forth between Rick and Michonne as the chains around my ankle clang against the table in front of me.

"What did you do there? What was your role?"

"Lovely day today, huh?" I ask Negan as I approach him from behind, his head craning to peer over his shoulder at me. A soft grin spreads across his face as he quickly shoos the other men away from him, ending their conversation abruptly.

"Even better now that you're here." He flirts, my eyes rolling bashfully. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?" He asks and my feet shuffle against the gravel beneath me as I try desperately to ignore the walkers set up along the fence.

"I had an issue when I was trying to sell some bread I made-"

"How about this, give me the names of the people who keep bugging you and I'll make sure they don't do shit to you anymore." He offers, not bothering to hear the rest of the story, alleviating some of the pressure weighing down on me.

"He helped me fit in. He was nothing but kind to me- I know that he wasn't always kind to everyone though." I mutter, worried that they would think poorly of me simply based off of my close association with Negan, a man they hated so much but for good reason. "I know what he did to your friends. I'm truly sorry for your losses." Rick's face drops as he lowers his gaze to the ground, Michonne clearing her throat as she gets back on topic.

"Did he ever hurt you? Did you ever see him hurt someone else?"

"You say sorry to her right now or I swear to god, your face is going to look like Dwighty boys here but I will not stop until your whole face looks like goddamn leather!" Negan yells, pressing my harassers face into the metal table in front of us. I clutch the side of my face that he hit just moments ago, right after calling me 'Negans bitch'.

"I'm sorry- I'm really sorry, Negan-"

"No!" Negan yells, causing me to jump beside him, his eyes flickering over to me briefly. "Sorry sweetheart- I just have to get the point across that no one- and I mean no one- can talk to you like that without suffering the very severe consequences that Lucille and I have to offer!"

"Only a few times. When men would get too close to me, when they'd threaten me, flirt with me." I explain shakily, wanting so deserpately to go to wherever they have Negan hidden away, to make sure that he's alright and that- even though they had every right to kill him- he was safe and shown mercy.

"Why?" Michonne asks once more, her eyes softening as she reaches out to take my hand and it's now that I realize there are hot tears trailing down my cheeks, the separation from the only friend I've had in so long taking a deep toll on me as I choke out.

"He was the only one in that whole place who spoke to me, actually listened to me."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy

@steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw @admiringlove @starlightandfairies

#negan #negan x reader #negan smith #negan smith x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

656 notes · View notes

survivalove · 8 months

Note

hii what type of tropes do u think katara fits ?? and what type of tropes do u think her character subverts ??

Hi anon! I’m not gonna lie this is a heavy topic which has been weighing on my mind ever since my Katara rant a few days ago. Tbh, I wasn’t going to make a post about this, just cuz I feel like maybe I talk too much 😂 but you just gave me the perfect excuse so here we go:

1. Girls are Healers, not Fighters

I want to start this off with the issue of misogyny in the Northern Water Tribe and how the fandom discusses Katara’s portrayal in LoK. First of all, the NWT not allowing girls to fight is misogyny and Pakku telling Katara to “go in the healing hut with the other women” very much sounds like “go in the kitchen where you belong”. This is something everyone understands.

However, I think we start losing the plot when people only focus on this aspect and ironically parrot the same misogyny when they talk about female healers in the franchise and in media. Let’s look at Yagoda. Yagoda is a recognized master. She doesn’t teach in her house, her kitchen or her bedroom. She teaches in a school alongside other master healers and students. When the Yue was stillborn, who did her family turn to at first? Pakku? No, the healers. During the civil war, did Katara just sit at home twiddling her fingers like so many in the fandom would have you believe? No, she was single-handedly healing dozens of rebels in her White Lotus outpost. The importance of female healers in the franchise and media in general should not be diminished when speaking out against this misogynistic trope. I just had to get that out of the way.

So, how does ATLA subvert this trope with Katara? They show her developing her healing abilities alongside her fighting skills. One does not hinder the other. When Katara discovers her healing ability, she gains respect for possessing a talent so rare and revered, by a man originally from the nation that wiped out the male and female waterbenders of her tribe. When Katara saves Aang’s life, the most important moment in the entire show IMO, in the same episode, she is also shown facing off a major enemy in battle and winning. These two sides of her are constantly shown in balance to the fullest extent of her power, without one skill being diminished to highlight the other.

2. The Hero’s Girl

I think this is another trope that’s prevalent in media, particularly shonen animes which ATLA gets compared to so often. A lot of times these female love interests are never in the main story without the main male character. They seemingly have a one-sided crush, fall apart at his feet, interacts with him only when he needs her (and only him), and can sometimes be a pick-me when it comes to any competing female characters. I think a lot of people see Katara this way solely because she gets with Aang in the end, when this does not even come close to how she is portrayed.

Katara is an extremely developed character. Her arc is largely independent of Aang even though there are so many parallels between the two. Katara initially sees Aang as just a friend and even when she starts seeing him as a potential love interest, she’s not begging him to notice her or accept her affections. She gets jealous but isn’t competing with anyone for his attention for long and she has relationships with other characters that further the story whether Aang is there or not. She doesn’t exist solely to be with him, in fact she even teaches him. Katara and Aang being endgame is not integral to either one of their stories. They don’t agree with each other all the time and when he pushes their romance too far, she isn’t framed in a negative light for rebuffing his affections. No one in the narrative forces her to be with Aang because he’s the Avatar for status, or anything else. Love is not her biggest priority and she chooses to put off her romantic feelings until the war ends.

Now does she get jealous of other girls who seem to like Aang as well? Yes. Does she cry and get emotional when something happens to him? Yes. Does she spend an episode pestering the fortuneteller about her future husband and get excited at the idea of falling in love? Lol yeah. Does she blush and hug and kiss Aang often? Literally every other episode. But that’s not all there is to her or their dynamic. I think some people often overemphasize the fact that Aang and Katara do get together in the end and act like it automatically voids the rest of her development in canon when it really doesn’t. Like I said in another post, I know a lot of Katara stans that don’t ship her with anyone or can discuss her character at great length without mentioning romance. People who choose to focus on her ending up with the hero to ‘defend’ her are more doing her a disservice if you ask me.

3. One-Dimensional Female Characters

This sort of ties into everything I just said and is also something the franchise achieves with all the female characters, but even more-so with Katara. Katara has several behaviors that directly contradict her general personality traits:

In the Chase, Katara lectures Toph about the importance of doing chores and being a team player and in the same episode, insults her, picks fights with her to the point she leaves the group entirely.

Katara loves her brother and always cheers him up when he’s feeling him down, but she still will tease and pick on him, and on a darker note, lashes out at him in the Southern Raiders when he doesn’t tell her what she wants to hear.

Katara turns up her nose at the wrestling tournament they find Toph in and winces as she attacks The Earth King’s soldiers, but still partakes in fighting the war because it’s for the greater good.

Katara from a young age had to take up the societal expectations that her mother would have had in her family and in her tribe, but is still a child and often takes delight in activities children enjoy, as she should.

The point is, Katara isn’t one-dimensional. There are a lot of contradictions within her that are usually juxtaposed one after the other. Yet, most viewers can only focus on one side at a time, usually choosing to focus on the negative aspects of her character. They will complain about her being motherly as if she never has fun. They will focus on the one time she was out of line with Sokka just to attack her character. They will cry she was too hard on Zuko, after 2.5 seasons of him chasing them down.

Most annoying of all, they will compare her to other female characters who are less hypocritical in nature and, in my opinion, simply not as complex as Katara. Don’t even get me started on how community is such an integral part of Katara, Sokka and Aang’s characters and how their character development often get overlooked in favor of characters with more individualistic and straightforward narratives. But this is about Katara.

Katara is an unapologetically feminine character that is sweet and kind without serving some villainous agenda that gives her a reason to be on par with the male characters when it comes to fighting skill. Her strength gets questioned in ways that Azula, Toph, Mai and Ty Lee’s do not. She subverts a lot of misogynistic tropes that a lot of 2000s female love interests in media suffered from and still do. She’s a very difficult character for most people to wrap their heads around, simply because she doesn’t stick to the script that most fmcs who look and act like her, do.

If we pretend she’s not fictional for two seconds, Katara is a hypocrite and hello? Who isn’t. It’s human nature for people to change their minds or do things that don’t really match up with that they’re say about. People who get mad at Katara for this, are essentially saying they’re mad because she’s not a flat character and they don’t even realize it. Her contradictions aren’t just one-off moments and her grief over her mother’s death isn’t something she only brings up once or twice. These occur over and over again because she is the other main character and with that comes a lot more screentime for her to be hypocritical, grow and show development to a level that the other female characters can’t.

#atla #katara #my asks #atla critical #katara defense squad #pro katara #wow #why are my katara rants always so long #i’m so sorry #those fans reblogging me again #so i’m putting the tags #antizutara #anti zutara #anti zuko #kataang

75 notes · View notes

whipitgod · 4 days

Text

Friendly

Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter

oneshot - wc: 2.2k

summary: Post Fall- Will wants to make some friends and Hannibal thinks this is a terrible idea. part of the 'Pushed In' universe but it's not necessary to read those to understand this one

warnings: language, canon typical murder, crackish

a/n: Thank you for all the love on the last few oneshots!! i have a destiel oneshot as well as a part 2 to the stucky oneshot coming sometime in the next week so stay tuned for that!! as always, if you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Don’t think you can get out of this conversation by stabbing me Hannibal.” Hannibal looks down at the knife he had picked up when Will had brought up the topic of making friends, weighing his options.

Hannibal squints slightly at the man in front of him, deciding whether or not he should try anyway, “It would certainly postpone the conversation,” He sets the knife down after saying this, glancing around a bit, his eyes landing on the door that led to the backyard; he could always make a run for it.

“Jesus Christ Hannibal, you’ve never had an issue with being social in the past,” Will takes a step closer to cannibal, hands raising in a placating gesture when he sees Hannibal's hand twitch slightly towards where the knife sits on the counter, “I mean, normally I'm the one who has to be forced to meet people.”

“I just don’t think making friends is all that pertinent at the moment dear,” Hannibal pauses to scowl at the way Will had grabbed the knife when he wasn't paying attention, “We arrived here so recently, I think it's fair that we give ourselves time to settle.”

Will rolls his eyes at the man, “We’ve been here for almost two years, I think we’ve had plenty of time to settle.”

Hannibal grabs another knife from the block of the counter causing will to send a pointed look at the man, “I’m serious Hannibal, you should know by now that a stab wound won't deter me from talking to you about this,” the man drops the knife back into the block, “If anything it’ll make me more annoying about it.”

Hannibal sighs at Will's words, knowing the man is right, “Fine, if it makes you stop bothering me while I make dinner I will attempt to make friends.”

Will offers Hannibal a smile at this, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the man's lips before turning and making his way out of the room, “We can go into town tomorrow!” the words are called out over his shoulder as he enters their bedroom.

It’s not that Hannibal didn’t like meeting people or that he was bad at it, quite the opposite actually; Hannibal had always been likable, navigating social situations with a lot of ease. The issue isn’t with the social interactions, in all honesty he wouldn’t mind having a few acquaintances; the issue is that Will was the one requesting it. The man can’t help but wonder if Will is already growing bored of him; why else would the ex-profiler be so adamant on meeting new people. Hannibal reasons that it’s fair for Will to be growing restless with the lack of human interaction that doesn’t revolve around Hannibal, the man had been almost entirely cut off from social interactions save for rushed conversations with shopkeepers when they venture into the nearest town.

In all honesty the main reason Hannibal didn’t want to make friends was because he didn't want a repeat of what had happened the last time they had both tried to make friends. They had decided to try and make friends separately a few months prior, the problem with that was the way that had both reacted to the new people in the other's life; they had both flown off the handle with jealousy. The whole event had ended in two murders and some, admittedly, amazing makeup sex. Hannibal stops chopping as he recalls the events from a few months before.

Will was going to kill him; Hannibal wasn't going to be able to get the blood out of the carpet by the time the younger man returned home, and when Will finds out that Hannibal had killed the only friend the man had managed to make during their stay in Argentina he wasn’t sure how Will would react. He was sure the reaction wouldn't be positive, though the man had forgiven him for worse Hannibal was worried this might be the straw that breaks the camel's back. He’s knelt on the carpet next to the large blood stain patting at it with a damp cloth, he hasn’t even had a chance to move the man's body yet and Will would be home at any moment.

Hannibal wasn’t sure if he had ever been this neurotic in his killing endeavors, he hadn’t even had the intention of killing the man that day. The man had been introduced to him by Will a few weeks earlier, his name was Marcus, and he was new to Argentina with no family; he had said he was looking for a fresh start and Hannibal reasons to himself that some might consider death a form of ‘beginning’. Marcus had stopped by in hopes of talking to Will about a fishing trip they had planned, and the man had frowned slightly when he was told that Will wasn’t home before fixing his expression into a polite smile and attempting to spark up a conversation with Hannibal. The man was polite and for the first time ever that made Hannibal dislike him even more; The man being respectful as he asked Hannibal about his hobbies and interests. The conversation had ended up steering back towards the topic of Will; Marcus singing the man’s praises, talking about how kind and funny Will was.

One minute the man had been talking to Hannibal in the living room and the next minute he was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood; Hannibal is a little fuzzy on the details of how it all unfolded. He remembers feeling overcome with jealousy, a feeling he historically had not handled well, and he remembers feeling the weight of the stone lion statue in his hand as he cracked it against the man’s skull, He remembers setting the lion statue back on the mantle of the fireplace before realizing exactly what he had just done. Will was going to be furious, an emotion that Hannibal loathed to have directed towards him, and he doubts the man will be willing to hear him out on this one.

He stops his work on the stain to run his clean hand through his hair, pushing it back from where it had fallen into his face, he heaves a sigh before beginning his ministrations again. He freezes when he hears the door open, taking a second to gather his thoughts and say his prayers before he has to face Will.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” there goes any hope Hannibal had that the conversation would be calm, “really Hannibal? You couldn't have found anyone else to kill?”

Hannibal hasn’t looked up from where he’s still knelt on the carpet, his knees are starting to ache, but he stays resolutely looking at the stain in front of him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finds the words he wants to use, “I didn’t plan this one.” Not his best defense ever, that's for sure.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Will's voice is loud, and his tone is sharp, “I finally made a friend after living here for over a year, and you brain him the first chance you get?”

“I truly am sorry dear, I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Oh my God you were jealous.” It's not said like an accusation, Will sounding very resolute as he says it, “You couldn't stand the idea of someone else making me happy.”

“I admit that I am not handling your newly formed relationships well,” Hannibal looks down at where his once white shirt is now covered in splotches of red that are already starting to turn a rusty brown, “am I not enough for you Will?”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” at Hannibal’s lack of response Will lets out an incredulous laugh, “it’s normal for people to hang out with people that aren’t their partners Hannibal.”

“We are anything but normal dear.”

“Cut the dramatics, we are supposed to look normal. We have to seem normal, so people don’t start questioning what the two reclusive men living out in the forest get up to in their spare time.”

“I’ve made a lot of effort to look normal, I have dulled my wardrobe significantly!” Hannibal huffed an annoyed sounding laugh, “I mean dear god Will what else do you want from me?”

“Okay first of all, you didn’t ‘dull your wardrobe’ there just isn't anyone nearby that can tailor you ridiculous suits,” the cannibal makes an affronted noise at this, muttering a disbelieving ‘ridiculous suits’ to himself, but will continues on like the man hadn't said anything, “and I don’t know Hannibal, maybe you could start with not killing the select few people that I can manage to form friendships with!”

“I told you that I was sorry,” Will barks out a sharp laugh at this but Hannibal ignores him, “and I told you that I didn't plan this, I really don’t know what came over me.”

Hannibal stands slowly, knees cracking with the movement; he’s getting older, and he’s reminded of it every time he sits in one place for too long. Once he’s on his feet he chances a look at Will, and he freezes at what he sees.

“Why are you bloody dear?”

“This isn’t about me, Hannibal.”

Will was covered in smears of blood; Hannibal can make out a few distinct bloody handprints on the man's arms. The blood was everywhere, the cannibal would guess it's even in Will’s hair; the remnants of blood splatters remain on his cheeks, smeared around slightly from what Hannibal assumes was a failed attempt at cleaning it up.

“Whose blood is that Will?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was mine?”

“No.”

Will curses softly to himself, pushing his hair out of his face, “You’re going to have to find a new person to get your wine from.”

“You killed Victoria?” It’s Hannibal’s turn to let out a disbelieving laugh, “and you had the nerve to react to my behavior the way you did?”

“I didn’t flirt with Marcus.”

“I don’t recall flirting with Victoria.”

“She flirted with you, and you played into it!”

Hannibal scoffs, “I did nothing of the sort! I was simply being ‘friendly’ like you asked me to.”

“Oh, you were ‘friendly’ alright! Apparently, you never mentioned me to her because she seemed awfully surprised that your husband was there to talk to her.” Will was practically shaking with anger, the rage from earlier when he had killed the woman returning in waves.

“We never discussed anything that personal Will, we merely talked about wine and literature.” Hannibal reached up to place a placating hand on the man's shoulder, but Will smacked it away.

“You couldn’t be bothered to mention the fact that you had a husband to the woman that all but asked you to strip every time you saw her?”

“She was being kind.”

“Way too kind.”

“So, you killed her?” Hannibal isn’t necessarily upset at the turn of events; he’ll admit that he had grown a bit fond of the conversations he shared with the woman, but the news of her death doesn’t stir up many emotions.

“Of course I did! You should know by now that I’m not the most stable man Hannibal,” Will pauses for a moment, remembering what had led them to this conversation, “let’s not forget that you did the same thing,” Will motions to the corpse laying on their living room floor, “and at least I didn’t ruin the carpet during my murder.”

“Your murder seems a bit more premeditated than mine, and a lot bloodier.”

“I know a cannibalistic serial killer isn’t judging the gruesomeness of my murdering.”

“I’m simply observing-”

“Oh, I’ll give you something to observe-”

“Please Will, my head is starting to hurt,” The fight is leaving Hannibal quickly, the events of the day starting to catch up to him, “I need to do something about this body,” He pauses for a second, “You don’t have Victoria in the trunk of our car do you? It’s a nightmare to clean.”

“She’s at the bottom of the lake, I didn't want to look at her any longer than I had to,” the younger man sighs and rolls his shoulders, the day was starting to weigh on him too, “This conversation isn't over, but let's put a pin in it while we deal with the dead guy.”

Hannibal nods at the man's words, turning towards where Marcus's body lays, “Heads or tails?”

“You’re not funny Hannibal.”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the hand that Will places on his shoulder, his head snapping up to meet the man's curious gaze, offering him a small smile.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Hannibal’s mind flashes back to Will’s earlier statement about how stabbing him wouldn't end a conversation, and even with that thought present he still thinks about trying. Hannibal didn't want to admit to Will that he was worried that another attempt at forming friendships would end with just as much blood as the last attempt. He also wasn’t keen on the idea of admitting that he was jealous, “I’m great.”

“You don’t look great, you look almost constipated.”

The comment earns a scowl from Hannibal before the man sighs and turns to face Will, “Do we have to make friends?”

“Yes,” Will takes in the state of Hannibal, the man looking a little queasy at the thought of Will forming bonds with other people, “and we aren't allowed to kill them this time either, I finally got that carpet replaced.”

22 notes · View notes