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shizucheese · 3 months

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Hey guys, we need to talk. Because a certain little something in TMAGP 8 is causing what is genuinely the most toxic part of the Magpod fandom at large to once again rear its ugly head. So let's talk about podcast character appearance head canons, shall we?

I'm tagging this with the Magnus Archives, TMA and Magpod tags because I am absolutely calling all of you out, but if you don't want spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 8 then stop reading right now.

. Okay, so, Gerry exists in the TMAGP universe. He's happy (or at least acts cheerful). And some people have headcanoned this to mean that he is no longer goth, or at the very least isn't dying his hair black with bad box color. And other people have decided to get seriously agro over this. I have literally seen with my very own eyeballs someone call "un-gothing" Gerry a "hate crime" and calling the person they were talking to "gothphobic."

Let me make this absolutely clear for all of you: podcasts are a purely audio medium and unless a physical trait of theirs is explicitely stated, everyone's headcanon for how a character appears is valid. Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. But also

Rainbow Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. Pastel Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Not Goth At All TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Bald Gerry who has actually gotten his brain cancer diagnosed in time and is getting treated for it is valid. Somebody's headcanon of a character that has no canonical description to them, or whose headcanon matches the few crumbs of canonical description we have but otherwise doesn't look the way you imagine them to, is not going to take away from your own headcanon of what a character looks like. If someone imagining or drawing a character looking a different way from how you imagine them looking somehow takes away from your enjoyment of the fandom or otherwise makes you feel like you need to barge in and tell them that they're Wrong and need to conform to your headcanon or else, that is a reflection on you, not them.

And this problem way predates TMAGP, let alone TMAGP 8. The only description we have of John is that he is in his early 30's and has prematurely greying hair.

If someone thinks he looks like the pastiest motherfucker to ever dwell in a basement, an extra-in-the-Adam's Family or Tim Burtan protagonist of a man, let them.

What's that? You want to tell them that John is BROWN and if they don't headcanon him looking that way they're WRONG and RACIST? Back away from the keyboard and go outside.

(Ironically, as someone who started getting grey hairs in my hair in my 20's myself, I'm pretty sure everyone's headcanon of John, with tiny little whisps of grey in his hair, is wrong, because if he was so grey that people were surprised to learn he was "a child of the 90's," he was probably full on salt-and-pepper when he was in his 20's.)

The only description we have for Martin is that he (man who canonically has the self esteem of a used doormat) describes himself as "not the smallest guy", Not-Sasha called him "roomy", Melanie is skinner than him, and Jonny said he imagined him as a "bigger guy" who would beat Alex in a physical fight. If someone decides to take this information and conclude that it means he's tall, broad and has muscle, rather than that he's overweight, fucking let them. If your first instinct to this is to run to your keyboard and call them "fatphobic" or otherwise bash them for it, I once again urge you to back away from your keyboard and go outside.

Someone headcanons Basira not wearing a headscarf? We have exactly 0 canonical physical description of her and the people who headcanon her as having one are basing that purely off of her name alone. Fucking let them. Someone headcanons Melanie and/ or Georgie as a skin color you don't agree with or a hairstyle you don't like? Fucking let them. As long as someone's headcanon of a character's description doesn't contradict the few canonical descriptions we have of a character, why do you care? Them having a different headcanon from you doesn't take away your right to imagine the characters looking however you like, anymore than it should take away their right to do the same. Someone headcanoning John as white (or Black, or Asian, or Mixed, or whatever) isn't going to make all of the fanart of John as brown with long hair suddenly disappear, nor the fanfiction describing him as such (although I do often wonder if the opposite is not true; is the fact that John looks the same in so much of the fanart I see on here really because of fandom "consensus", or is it because people are absolutely awful to anyone who draws him Different?). Someone headcanoning Martin as not fat isn't going to make the mountains of fanart of him as a fluffy little marshmallow vanish into the void (although I do remember hearing about someone getting bullied off the internet for daring to draw Martin as not fat). And someone headcanoning Gerry in TMAGP as not being goth isn't going to take away your preciouse goth TMAGP Gerry headcanon. That should be part of the fun of it, shouldn't it? Seeing what different images people have conjured in their heads of these characters we only get to experience with our ears, and celebrating the differences as well as the similarities? Why are we bullying people into conforming to one appearance of a character when no actual canonical appearance of them exists?

#the magnus archives #tma #the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmp #tmp spoilers #tmapg #tmagp spoilers #magpod

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eternalera · 4 months

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Some problems i had with the finale in hazbin hotel

now before i start i just wanna say that i absolutely love and adore this show with all of my heart but with that being said i can still recognize its flaws and god does it have some

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lets get one of the most obvious things out of the way first. charlie did literally nothing. she hit adam once or twice and he beat the shti out of her which was just a dumb excuse to have lucifer show up nad beat the shit out of him.

but more on that later. charlie is the main character and she only gets the motivation to go full 'god mode' when sir pentious dies? even then she didnt do anything. dazzle ends up dying but oh well its fine (or razzle i cant remember). she stabs adam once and even then he beats her up more than anything. hes powerful yes but charlie couldve put up more of a fight

she even has a song in episode 7 about taking charge but honestly... she doesnt really do that. actually sir pentious had a better arc than her and we hardly see him throughout the entire show

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sir pentious' death was fine we see him gearing up and it was kinda leading onto the big scene where he would take on adam but...

bro got obliterated in less than like a second and then adam made a joke off of it. tbh at this moment i started laughing so hard because goddamn was it hilarious but then you have charlie and the hotel mourning it like not even five seconds after- like half a second after the joke.

the tonal whiplash of that scene was just... ugh-

like i didnt care about it being serious because guess what? im already laughing at the joke like everything that i cared for about him just thrown into the gutter because guess what? haha funny :)

but for that to be what makes charlie go into her full form still makes me mad- ugh

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adams death was fine. he was killed by nifty so like- okay i guess. honestly i didnt really care for it. it was funny but then ONCE AGAIN you have lute cry over him and actually i cared more for that than nifty-

but its just like- nifty?

dont get me wrong its funny asf but... nifty? they treated both of what was meant to be serious deaths in this show as a goddamn joke and expect me to not call them out on it? like okay nifty shes a funny character but her killing adam just made me go though 3 different stages in the span of like- five seconds

bro just got stabbed wait what-

omg its nifty thats kinda funny

actually i dont really care for nifty so wtf-

like huh?

the death just kinda felt like... nothing to me. like i get thats its funny misogynistic asshole gets stabbed by crazy straight small bug woman. but i didnt really care for it. nfitys fine but i dont care about her enough for me to laugh out loud at this moment

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lucifer's entrance was horrible. bro can open portals, he knew what they were doing, he knew what was coming yet he comes in like- halfway through the fight only when charlie's getting hurt

all im sayin is that if he was in it at the start the final episode wouldve been like half the amount of time it actually was...

oh yeah and pentious would be alive, but no they needed him to die to show that the hotel works so why not just hold him off.

im sorry but lucifer stole all of charlies glamour in this scene like charlie was getting choked after hitting adam once and then boom. daddy to the rescue ig

like are you kidding me? at least make it fucking vaggie or smth. not lucifer and why was he late? we've pretty much established that man doesnt do shit so like-

its fucking pointless it a quick and pretty damn cheesy ending. if he wasnt there at the start we dont need him at the end. or at least have him arrive earlier not at a convenient ass time

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going back to the fact that NOT A SINGLE DEATH WAS TAKEN SERIOUSLY.

i know that sir pentious was coming back so its fine to make it a joke but like adam? bro thats your main villain right there. a show is only as good as its villain and honestly his death just wasnt satisfying (as i mentioned before)

like seriously wtf?

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this all being said though i really enjoyed this show with my whole heart and i do love it and some of the things that it did. the fact that this show even got out is a goddamn miracle <3

#hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #sir pentious #sir pentious hazbin hotel #pentious hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #nifty hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel criticism

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commenter2 · 5 months

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"Masquerade" review

Angel deals with things.

You could instantly tell this was going to be a porno since Angel never tried to use the 3rd set of arms he hides to escape.

Charlie I think everyone else wouldn’t mind if you had said that Angel’s work was very inappropriate to show. Where was that same courage you had when dealing with Adam?

Again though I’d be okay if one of these problems Charlie has is about her parents, I’m still hoping it’s not on the same level as those with similar problems in Helluva Boss.

So were finally getting the “abusive relationship” story with Angel and Valentino. Nice to see Charlie instantly noticing it.

Admittedly I got a chuckle at the animation of Charlie banging her legs on the floor.

I brought this up in my Charlie and Vaggie “trailer” Tumblr post (link) but I think throughout the series (definitely later this season) we will learn that Charlie sees her royal status as a bit burdensome (maybe it’s also connected how this is related to how she canonically doesn't like wearing dresses XD) like maybe she always just wanted to be treated like everyone else but for her it was hard given she was nicer than most demons and I bet it was even harder to tell who liked her for who she was or if they were doing so out or obligation or using her for fame. That last part could be another good reason why she broke up with Seviathan von Eldritch. Another reason I bring this up is that we will likely see Charlie struggle with doing this until near the end of the season as seen with that makeshift army she makes of her friends and Rosie's people she recruited via singing which does seem to make Charlie a bit confident.

I think what you’re describing their Charlie is getting close to the definition of intimidation. DO IT!

Travis is back, and is an employee of Val’s. Guess the fandom really liked him.

Great first Adam NOW Val, you have the right to defend yourself Charlie! There better be a lot of fan art of Lucifer kicking Val’s ass posted soon.

Val’s robe are his wings. Does this mean if he was in a cold area, he would have to put a jacket over them to actually keep warm XD.

Uh oh here it comes :(

Is that angelic paper Val has or could all contracts look like that?

Since Charlie is the princess of Hell, you think she or someone else could get Angel out of his contract with Val?

That song number was cringy to watch and I hope something is done soon so we don’t see another one like it.

Looks like Charlie was beating herself up all night for causing Angel’s miserable night.

Angel’s extra eyes are out. Oh crap Angel is going crazy! Its Fizz at M’s clown contest all over again!

Wait it’s still the same day? I thought Val told him to work all night?

Charlie seems to have learned her lesson about boundaries.

Were finally going to get some true Husk and Angel interaction time.

Nice throw Husk, The Joker would be proud.

I think the writers did a good job at describing/showing how self destructive people are like.

Husk being a former Overlord confirmed. Well technically the theory was that he was a still an Overlord but that was being kept secret, no one accounted him losing his title. Hey I guess Overlords can lose titles.

Looks like the Cat in the Hat’s Nobody found his heart! No wait his heart grew 3 times that moment XD

Did Husk just flirt with Angel :3

Angel says because Val has bad eyes he can’t count, but I’m still going to think that it’s because he is so dumb that he can do math.

Aww Angel is starting to change, even making Charlie proud that she cries.

That or, and I hate ending this on a bad note, the crying could be related to something deeper like people never expressed such emotion to her before. PLEASE LET ME BE WRONG, at least when it comes to her mom and dad.

I’m mix on this episode.

Yeah I know this was going to happen eventually but it was still a bit sad to watch Angel go through all of that, yet still deny help from Charlie. At least it looks like Angel had a breakthrough and will likely decide to finally start to heal himself as well as aid Charlie in achieving her dream. It was also nice to see Husk not be the cranky old cat we know and love him for, bet those who ship Angel and Husk are happy too.

The biggest flaw of the episode was that the plot was a bit hard to get into since the shows spinoff series Helluva Boss has pretty much done this 3 times already, so we know how this is (probably) going to end and are just waiting for the inevitable scene where Angel stands up and finally becomes free of Val. Still it could have been worse when it came to the similarities (check out my review of Seeing Stars) and a few points for not having Ange’s character storyline end in just 1 episode.

We are already halfway done with the first season, and I can already tell that the last 4 episodes are going to be the most intense episodes yet, especially since the next one will have Lucifer in it. I hope that one won’t be as cringy as this episode given the franchise’s history with parents (specifically dads) but at least the good news is that this is only the first season so if it is, there is a chance the characters will change.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel charlie

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semper-legens · 9 months

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110. Class A, by Robert Muchamore

Owned: No, library Page count: 291 My summary: It's the first real mission for CHERUB agent James Adams, and he's in for a treat. Taking down a major drug gang by befriending the leader's son isn't going to be easy, but James and his friends have been trained for this. But James has other problems. His love life, for one. Does Kerry feel the same way he does? And will it matter if they can't get this guy to justice? My rating: 3/5 My commentary:

I don't know how I feel about the CHERUB books. I remember being really into them when I was a kid - as I was reading, I recalled plot points and events with some clarity - but in retrospect I'm not sure what I saw in them. There is a lot to like here, don't get me wrong, especially if one happens to be an eight to twelve year old who thinks they could totally be a super spy if given half the chance. But I don't think it holds up particularly well, even when placed in the standards of its time. This book came out in the mid-2000s, and it shows in a lot of ways. I really wish the series was about one of the other characters, because James is very much not working for me right now.

So let's talk about James. In a lot of ways, James is exactly the stand-in for the young reader that you might expect. He's boistrous, rebellious, too cool for school, but he's also smart, strong, and brave. Unfortunately, he also shows the same social attitudes as a kid in the 2000s. He's horribly sexist to all the girls in CHERUB bar his sister, and his affections bounce around easily. He's also homophobic - when his roommate/friend Kyle tells James that he is gay, James immediately thinks that it's disgusting and wrong and he doesn't want to hear any more about it. And that's never really questioned by the narrative. Other characters give it the token 'ugh James Kyle's just Kyle there's no need to be grossed out by him', but James doesn't lose any friends over it, and Kyle seems mostly okay with the proceedings. Disappointed, obviously, but there's not a lot of pushback, which feels like an oversight. James just lost all my sympathy, really - he's rapidly becoming kind of a shitty kid.

The mission itself is for the kids to befriend the children of a particular cocaine dealer, in order to bust him. James, Kyle, Kerry, and Nicole are all posing as the adopted children of mission controller Zara, and each have a target to befriend and use to gather information. James has no problem fitting in with the bad boy crowd, but Kerry struggles with her target, feeding into her sense of inferiority. She winds up getting with a different kid, and finding where the dealer is packaging his drugs, which is a huge breakthrough. But it's James' friendship with Junior, the dealer's son, that really pays dividends, as James becomes a street seller for the dealer and earns his respect so much that he's invited on holiday to Miami with them. Of course. I would have liked to have seen a bit more balance showing how all the kids are working, but we're tight on James' POV and, while I guess that makes sense, it did make it seem like James and to a lesser extent Kerry were the only ones truly working this mission.

Speaking of the mission, I've talked in my last CHERUB post about this story's relationship to realism. CHERUB supposedly has an ethics committee, who clears the mission concepts before the kids even see them, and sets strict rules. As this mission involves dealing with class A drugs, the kids are warned that any class A drug use by them will result in expulsion from CHERUB. Which comes back to bite Nicole and Kyle. Nicole was only on this mission because our fearless hero recommended her, because he wanted to get in her pants. Smooth. She ends up having a breakdown because of her own trauma and issues, taking a bunch of coke, and needing to be hospitalised. Naturally, she has to leave CHERUB, though they set her up with a foster family and a therapist, which is probably the right call. Kyle, however, is found to have traces of weed in his system; not a class A drug, but also a punishable offence. Poor Kyle can't catch a break. It's also interesting how quickly the situation in Miami deteriorates. James has a plan, but is forced to abandon it when the situation escalates out of control, and he winds up having to shoot someone. He's pretty messed up about it, but justifies it as doing what he needed to stop the bad guys. Which. This series likes to set up its criminals as the bad guys, much as James and co have issues seeing them as more than 'my friend's dad' or suchlike. It's an interesting assumption, but I'll talk about that more when I talk about the next CHERUB book.

Next, some spooky tales of winter hauntings.

#Class A #Robert Muchamore #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #3

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denimbex1986 · 4 months

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'For reasons beyond my understanding, everyone is raving about “All of Us Strangers.” Four stars on Letterboxd, glowing reviews about how touching it is, fans of Andrew Scott (“Fleabag”) and Paul Mescal (“Normal People”) touting their excitement from the trailer alone. I’ll admit, the trailer fooled me too — until I had the misfortune of spending my Saturday night being subjected to its nonsense. No amount of mental gymnastics nor benefit of the doubt could make this movie an ounce better than the utter disappointment it is.

Describing the plot of this film is a particularly tough task because, well, there isn’t one. You’re thinking, “Okay, maybe it’s just a character-driven story” to which I say: It would be if the film cared at all about developing its characters beyond the one-note melancholic archetypal caricatures we’ve seen a thousand times before. Scott plays the leading man Adam, a lonely 40-something screenwriter, still trying to work through his orphanhood at age 12. On a whim (the film doesn’t deign to explain his motivation), Adam decides to visit his old hometown only to encounter the ghosts of his parents occupying their old house.

Immediately upon seeing his father, I had a million questions; Adam did not. Is this an apparition? Did Adam do something to induce the visit? Why are they only showing up now after being dead for so long? Could this just be a hallucination? The film refused to answer, and Adam refused to ask. Instead, the film has Adam take the exchange in stride, passive-aggressively telling the audience to follow suit in doing so. OK. Take the hint; don’t question it. Just let the story take you. This mindset works — for a while. It’s a flimsy, short-term solution to a serious barrier to empathy for the characters and their world. We don’t know anything about these people aside from their shared tragedy and a small part of their external circumstance. When viewers want to know more — to familiarize themselves with the people they are meant to spend the runtime investing in — the film shuts them out completely. These characters are not simply strangers to each other; they are strangers to the audience.

To its credit, the film manages to pull on some heartstrings through its portrayal of the tragic family reuniting once more in this liminal space. The family knows their circumstances are wrong — that the parents are dead and the young boy is now a grown man — and they dance around this terrible truth with tearful catch-ups. This aspect is most apparent when Adam comes out to his mother (Claire Foy, “The Crown”). While he has spent years progressing to the present day, where gay marriage is legal in the U.K. and HIV treatments have been invented, his mother is stuck in the ’80s. Upon hearing the words “I’m gay” from her son’s mouth, she clams up. The next time Adam comes to visit the house, he finds only his father (Jamie Bell, “Billy Elliot”). Still, I couldn’t help but wonder: Where the hell is the mom? Wouldn’t this house be occupied by another family by now? Where are they? I didn’t hold my breath for answers as the father and son had a heart-to-heart. They cry and hug and have an emotional conversation about the father’s remorse for not comforting Adam as a child. It’s a sweet moment treated with the utmost reverence, which is why it’s such a shame that it operates as an outlier among hollow scenes panhandling for stylistic praise.

The film’s attempt to aestheticize itself at the cost of an actual story became infuriating by the fifth excessively long shot of Adam staring melancholically out the train window. It wastes so much time trying to cultivate an air of faux-indie drama that it misses the chance to build the relationships of its characters, all of whom speak with the same toned-down somberness. In particular, Mescal’s character, Harry, doesn’t get the chance to be more than a grim plot device whom we are told has an innate connection with Adam but we never actually see forming aside from some sex scenes that do little to advance their emotional link. The two care for each other, but it’s a connection marred by vagueness in both timeline and definition. When Adam tells his parents he loves Harry, I was taken aback because I was under the impression they had met no more than a week ago. There is no sense of time or pacing, just a long stretch of poorly executed attempts at cinematic poetry.

I understand what this movie was trying to do. I can see the parallels between Adam as an older gay man who grew up absorbing external shame for his sexuality and Harry as a young gay man who was given more freedom by the world to express himself. They are both still strangers to the world that refuses to embrace them fully. It speaks to the inherent feelings of isolation that most people in the Queer community are made to feel — feelings that are seldom represented in media. “All of Us Strangers” simply doesn’t allot enough space for these themes to be fleshed out in any satisfactory way. Rather, it shoehorns them into a chopped-up plot about Adam’s parents. Yes, the parents try to understand him and his sexuality now, but most of their interactions are about their lost time together. With all of the empty space taken up by ugly transitions, it seems like these discussions could’ve found more solid ground to stand on within the dialogue.

At this point, forget finding out if the parents are real or not. Those questions are out. After the parents fade away completely, Adam goes back to reunite with Harry only to find his rotting corpse in the bathtub wearing the clothes he appeared in when the two first met. This means that their entire love story happened while Harry was a ghost or an apparition or a hallucination (still don’t know which). So, after going on an entire journey of acceptance, Adam now has to start from scratch all over again. The film refuses to give its main character any respite, and worse yet, it falls into the egregiously useless “Bury Your Gays” trope after spending two hours proclaiming the validity of Queer joy.

New question: What was the point of any of this?

Unsurprisingly, there is, once again, no answer. “All of Us Strangers” essentially took an interesting concept, hollowed it out and dressed it up as the main course on an empty dinner table. It plops its viewer into a new world without explaining the rules and wants the audience to care about characters that it doesn’t take the time to properly introduce. Worst of all, it started the plot down a one-way track leading nowhere. I expected the final scene to be a saving grace — maybe Adam at Harry’s grave, mournful yet knowing he’ll be okay — but no. We don’t even get the courtesy of closure; once again, the audience is denied. All we get is possibly the ugliest zoom out from Adam’s bedroom into the night sky. No answers, no plot and no ending. Just disappointment.'

#All of Us Strangers #Fleabag #Normal People #Paul Mescal #Andrew Scott #Claire Foy #The Crown #Jamie Bell #Billy Elliot #Andrew Haigh

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horatioo · 6 months

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callout post for muy fuckign mom part one: at first i srs'd

welcome to eliot rambling about how much he fucking dreads going home for break this year. i'm your host, the fucked up talloran version of lobotomy corporation adam who keeps getting used as a fucking armrest.

this is my unwilling audience member azarel and my apparently quite amused audience member gregory. they might pipe in.

broad tw for child abuse and stuff. also csa mentions. im going to make a part two that is just me listing out goofy shit

PART ONE: THE BEGINNINGS

picture this. i am like seven years old and crying in the upstairs bathroom in my house. i have been yelled at for stepping on the floor or something i actually don't remember. my mother said she wished i'd never been born. seven year old me agrees with this. this is why i am crying inconsolably in the bathroom.

she apologized later that day but. like. that was a regular occurrence. usually not those words but i got yelled at a lot as a child for weird and relatively minor things, such as...not wanting to eat a vegetable, not knowing our multiplication tables, and other stuff.

but the yelling isn't that bad because it stopped when we were like nine so it doesn't matter + ratio + i don't care. (gregory is informing me i should care, but he's also shoving popcorn in his mouth so i am disregarding his advice.)

now the thing that is BAD in my eyes is how much she like. impresses her worldview on me. which would not be that bad if she didnt STILL DO THIS now that i am EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD. she has done this as long as i remember.

you may ask "what kind of worldview?" WELL,

the world is doomed and we are all going to die of global warming in my lifetime and there is no fixing it but i still need to try because otherwise i am a Horrible Person

even if global warming doesn't kill me, i have zero career options because everything is going to be taken over by machines, and the one option i did have is ALSO being taken over by machines, so fuck you

but don't slack off in school because that's morally wrong

if the global warming and the joblessness doesn't get me, well, the country is going to shit and there's no hope of saving it

oh and if that wasnt bad enough, well, somehow socialism is bad so i cant support that because its bad

also because i was born a woman, everyone will always see me as a woman, and thusly i must Always Be Paranoid that someone is going to rape me and then kill me. i must Always be alert. i must Always be prepared to fight for my life

that last one is probably true tbh

i think you can kind of understand why i have depression given this is ALL I WAS EVER TOLD WAS THE FUTURE. like yeah man. maybe i should die, if this is true!

also she constantly vents to me and talks shit about my little brother to me, but then i will start complaining about one thing and she's like "Okay but [solution based off insane misinterpretation of what i just said"

and i will say "that is not what i said, i said [clearer explanation]"

"yeah so you're saying [exact same misinterpretation]"

"no"

it is frustrating as fuck. she told me there was no way my uncle could have sa'd me as a child because "she never left me alone with him" (blatantly untrue). yeah whatever.

also before my suicide attempt at 13, i got my electronics taken away because i failed latin, and she yelled at me for sneaking them anyway. except. i was homeschooled, and that...was kind of...my only outside connection to the world that wasnt dictated by my mom. so yeah !

also i told her i was depressed before my attempt and she was like "no youre not" lol. lmao

PART TWO: MORE AWFUL SHIT

so i did just mention the venting and complaining. yeah well that is EVERY SINGLE TIME I TALK TO HER.

and this happens with stuff i do, too. like. i am perpetually afraid of fucking up and constantly walking on eggshells around her because if i upset her she wont TELL me. she'll just treat me like a biohazard for the rest of the day while pretending she's not.

and GOD forbid i try to Not Be Sick or not get HER sick. i said "hey i skipped the dead week of class before thanksgiving because we weren't learning anything and i didn't want to bring anything home!" and she said "You know that will affect your grades, right? You have no more absences, you told me. You shouldn't have done that :/" and then pushed me out of the house as soon as she could.

she is a constant wedge between me and my brother because she will snap at my brother for small things like forgetting to move an object, being "too loud" or talking too much, accidentally interrupting, having the GALL to be snarky like a normal teen, etc.

she also makes you ask before you get any food that isnt fruit, which SOUNDS fine but she heavily regulates what my brother eats because hes unhealthy (which. i was too before i moved out!) and not me.. and then she wonders why my brother gets upset about me getting special treatment...

shes also just. so incredibly passive aggressive. i know i said that but like i constantly assume everyone is mad at me because shes ALWAYS mad at me about something but she never SAYS what shes upset about. usually its that i dont tell her things, but when i DO tell her things OH MAN then she pulls out the disappointment.

PART THREE: OH LORD

so. the reason i'm not allowed to post about the. uh. p-word thing happening in the world right now. is because. she told me. i'm not allowed to. because i will ruin my family's life, and even if i don't have a future my family does! and if i even SPEAK of it online on a blog NOT AFFILIATED WITH MY DAD it will be traced to him and ruin his life and we will be homeless and it will be all my fault

that is the actual reason i had to delete my old blog. that is why i cannot reblog the posts. because she has this threat hanging over my head. and you may ask "why not just do it behind her back?" well,

i am kind of scared because when she says it, it sounds reasonable. and it took several people pointing out that its not really reasonable for me to even start looking at the things she says and going wait, thats...not normal

she treats me like a therapist and a family jewel, not a person. she wouldn't speak to me for an entire night when i was around 13 because i said maybe we shouldn't let alt-righters take the ok emoji from us at the dinner table. and its just. yeah. whats the point in trying anymore? the world is ending and im going to die before i hit 30 anyway!

except, like. thats. kind of awful. and its kind of awful that even after a suicide attempt at THIRTEEN my mom kept telling me these things and emphasizing how bad the future will be and how easy and good my life is now

except it isnt because i wasnt allowed to meet my friends without asking her, i wasnt allowed to go OUTSIDE without telling her, i wasnt allowed to go to the corner store or the mall or anywhere without supervision until LAST YEAR, i wasnt allowed to quit classes even when i was being called RACIAL SLURS at the age of SIX, i wasnt allowed to TELL MY THERAPIST THINGS!!

i could not. tell my therapist. about anything she did. because i knew it would come back to her somehow. i would let it slip or cps would be called. the second one is what she told me when she said "dont tell your therapist about your father hitting your brother" (he. hit him lightly with a leaf, by the way, i doubt it was even painful) and then she got angry when i did anyway

so i just stopped telling my therapist things over time because what if this was the thing that got cps called on us? what if i was the reason our life was ruined?

and now i cant start again.

great job mom.

same with meds. she makes it so im afraid to take meds. i dont take my anxiety meds that ARENT HABIT FORMING because im scared i will get addicted and anyway, more meds is more expensive and i dont need that many meds the goal of meds is to get off them someday!

and i shouldnt ask for upped doses of my meds noooo. not unless im suicidal.

god forbid i try a new med. nothing thats even close to a stimulant! nothing habit forming! i cant even do SLEEP MEDS that i DESPERATELY NEED because if she sees them when picking them up i just KNOW im going to get lectured. i cant even get fgucking MIGRAINE MEDS.

she never told me the migraines were medically significant until this year btw. :)

theres a bunch of other things but im tired and ive been typing this for an hour now. so. hitting post and praying

#eliot tag #abuse #csa discussion

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ruination-fangs · 11 months

Text

Tales of Asteria Hubert Subevent: "Guys-Only Trip"

it goes about as well as you'd expect

Scene 1:

Malik: Oh, is it that late already? I guess time really does fly when you're having fun. This hasn't been a bad trip, considering it was planned so suddenly. Hubert: Yes, we've been able to enjoy ourselves without any issues. This "men's" trip has been surprisingly relaxing. Asbel: All those sightseeing spots were pretty impressive, too. Next time we should invite Cheria and Pascal and everyone, and all go together! Hubert: Yes, I agree. Malik: How about getting some souvenirs? Do we want to split up and meet back here when we're done shopping? Asbel: Oh, yeah… We've probably each got something we want to buy. Hubert: Then let's meet back here in one hour. Asbel: Okay!

Asbel: …Oof. This is heavy… Hubert: Of course it is, with that much stuff crammed in it. Malik: This city seems to be famous for its souvenirs. Did you see all the sweets? If you want good treats, this is the place to go. It's quite common for people to buy too much. Hubert: There certainly were a lot of famous confectioneries. Asbel: Yeah, Cheria asked me to pick up some stuff. When I told her we were coming here, she was pretty adamant that we make sure to buy some. Malik: Hey, did you get something for Pascal? Hubert: …Why are you looking at me? Malik: Heh. It's not an accusation. I just happened to see that you came back from the same direction as Asbel. So, did you buy something for her? Hm? Hubert: …Y-Yes, I did… Of course, she's not the only one I- *rustle rustle* Asbel: What was that!? Grraaahhh! Malik: Monsters? Now!? Hubert: There are quite a few of them… Keep your guards up, you two!

Scene 2

Hubert: Tiger Blade! …It looks like that was all of them. Are you both okay? Malik: No problems here. Asbel? Asbel: Aaaahh! Hubert: Wh-What's wrong, Brother!? Malik: Are we under attack? …I don't see anything else… Asbel: This is bad, Hubert! They attacked so suddenly, and I just… I dropped it… The souvenirs are all ruined now… Hubert: What?! Malik: …Oh, that is bad… Not much of that is salvageable, I'm afraid. Asbel: And after we came all this way… Sorry, Hubert… Hubert: …It's not your fault. The important thing is we're all safe. Malik: Well, we can't do anything about it now. We'll just have to buy something else in the next town and explain what happened. It may not be as good as the originals, but… Asbel, how about some grilled chicken for Cheria? She won't complain about that. Hubert: She does love her grilled chicken… Asbel: …Yeah, she does. When we get to the next town I'll look for some grilled chicken-flavored sweets first thing! Hubert: It'll be a miracle if they have that! Malik: Hahaha! That's the spirit! And Pascal would be ecstatic if you brought her a banana pie. Hubert: I-I told you, not everything I bought was for Pascal! Asbel: But you did get something for Pascal, right? Hubert: Well, yes, but…! Malik: Then we'll go get a delicious banana pie for Pascal, too! Hubert: I just said it wasn't only for Pascal! Malik: Sure, sure. Hey, this men-only trip is pretty fun after all, huh? Hubert: …You're the only one having fun right now…

#tales of asteria #tales of graces #malik caesar #hubert oswell #asbel lhant #translations #guys' night out #boys just wanna have candy to give to their girlfriends

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levisgirll · 3 years

Text

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

text: hello everyone! first off wanna thank each and every one of you that liked and enjoyed my writings <3 this honestly makes me happy and I’m glad to know that! so I decided to write this out for everyone as I had many ideas about this cute idea! you, y/n is levi ackerman’s first lover! it was stated by hajime isayama (author/illustrator of attack on titan) in a interview that levi has never been in a romantic relationship, but that all changes when he met y/n. It was also stated that when it does come to romance and love, isayama said that he expresses levi as awkwardly/clumsily when it comes to his lover. So find out some cute headcanons about him in his first relationship with Y/N!

synopsis: how’s it like for levi ackerman to be y/n’s boyfriend? and not only that but it’s also levi’s first partner ever, and including you! But you both don’t know that :,) so, what are the things you both would do as newbies in a relationship? (incoming real cute fluff- and levi trying his best to be your best boyfriend.)

fluff, headcanon, aot world ♡ —

To start off, you guys are both confused. Not sure what to do. Levi Ackerman’s first relationship and his first time having a partner actually makes him feel quite nervous as he wants to make sure he comes out as an ideal boyfriend for Y/N. Would definitely also start to overthink a lot at his start of his new relationship.

That’s cause, he wants to show you he is cool and got things under control and also even stronger towards you, he tries his best.

BUT, he doesn't know that it’s also y/n’s first relationship! and when they joined the Levi squad after Eren was taken in by the survey corps. Levi caught their eyes, and their causal interactions, talks and bond started to grow and slowly developing feelings.

Eren would definitely figure out that you had a crush on Levi and he would say in a shocked tone “Seriously...out of all the men. It’s the scary captain you like!”

After you guys got together, he started at first to show you some of his affections which is ruffling your hair, and he would do that whenever he catches you looking down or not smiling. He wants the best for you, and to smile instead. He wants to see that on your face cause it was one of the many things he loved about you. You lowkey liked that everytime he would ruffle your hair and you could feel his soft and gentle fingers on the top of your head, so lovely it makes your heart race.

He would let you call him Levi at first and he would kinda get upset sometimes when you say captain.

Whenever you go outside the walls, he knows you will be on the other side sometimes and not in his zone and that makes him worry like shit. He cant even focus on his mission and would think “Y/N, please dont die. Please.” Begging that you would be safe. When everyone regroups, he would look for you and and in a split second he recognizes you from afar and that makes his whole tense body relax. “Fuck. What took you long?” he would say that and go up to you, “I went to get some water for my horse, are you alright Levi?” He just stood there, studying your eyes which would make you blush and you guys....end up giving butterfly kisses to each other! and that now become your thing. And guess what, he REALLY likes them, it ironically gives him butterflies in his stomach too.

Once you guys part away, he would touch his eyelashes softly just to feel your touch again and sense that are you still by his side. alive. (please give him more hugs)

Whenever you get a cut, even the smallest ones, he would always say and bring his hand out towards you “Come here”. “Levi, dont worry its a small cut!” You shyly say, “I see the injury, so come here.” and he would proceed to treat you so carefully and his full focus and attention while treating you makes your mind race like crazy. His sharp grey eyes on your knee and his finger tips would be cold when he touches your skin and that would make you shiver but you felt his love. And it made you love him again and again.

He would take any opportunity to treat your smallest injuries just as his ‘excuse’ to be really near you. And when he is done, he would look up and glance at your eyes and you guys just sit there looking at each other so loveling. He wants to try kissing you so bad and you can tell by the look of his eyes on how he focus on your pupils as it dilates, and he gets lost in your beautiful eyes. You both were about to kiss until someone calls out your name and that broke your focus and jolted up so quickly, blushing like crazy. He gets also lowkey embarrassed, and both of you get up. “O-Okay, I have to go....thanks Levi.” and he would nod with a slight blush.

Whenever he sees you carrying stuff as he would pass by, he always offers to carry it for you but still takes it away from you either way.

He notice he is such a gentleman towards you especially and he is actually a loyal and a great man for you (too great).

He knows he stutters a lot whenever he tries to talk to you, so he doesn't trust himself to talk much to you cause he always fucks up, so he would rather listen. When you guys meet up and talk about your day, Levi ends up being such a good listener and he loves hearing what you always had to say. “Go on, tell me more.”

Later in the relationship, he starts to feel less nervous after having many talks with you during late nights in his office and he open up to you. About his past, his life in the underground and then you later realized he is quite talkative. Would definitely bitch about you with others and he does that on purpose cause he wants to see you laugh about it, and when you do he feels so great, you boost his ego.

Once he was with the other soliders to train them combat style training, and he did such an impressive move that you saw from a distance. You would later go up to him and he noticed you, "Wow you're awesome when you did that move!" you would say with such an amazed expression and that actually makes him happy inside but then said “...and when I don't?" This man is always concerned, and he kinda lowkey wants you to complement him more?? Becomes needy about it.

Mentioning that, you guys slowly started to use pet names for each other. He really takes pride to it and feels so lucky to have someone to call him that and not anyone but you saying it to him meant the world for him. but, once you did not say love just once, and he actually went back to his office and really though about it for the rest of the day. He becomes really quiet in the evening and you can’t figure out what it is. So you asked. “Love what’s wrong?”. And there, he started to talk a lot more now. He realized then he can act like a kid sometimes but you found it so cute.

He also memorized and remembers your knocks and footsteps and just calls you in before even addressing anything. He was secretly waiting for you to come and he got the tea ready, and of course the table clean and even the chair extra clean cause he doesn't want any dirt on you. And of course, you are his lover so he wants the best for you.

You and Levi planned to go out to the city to buy some stuff, but he wanted to surprise you and take you to wall sina instead to this small shop to buy you an accessory that you liked. But that failed since it started to rain, “Great, shitty fucking weather.”

Always touches your cheek tenderly and ask what is wrong when he sees you down. “Love, tell me.” He would keep looking at you and you would suddenly forget what made you upset and start to get timid . “Come on...stop you are making me shy..”. He just loves looking at you especially your eyes. “Y/N”. Suddenly he got all serious, and he gently grabbed your both of your shoulders. “I really…l-like you…” he tried to say all clumsily while leaning close to your face, but you know he is trying his best to show you his affection and love.

Whenever he gives you his back and you would see his neat and clean undercut, you would leave small kisses on it. That’s when you found out thats his soft and sensitive spot and he blushes like crazy, not expecting it but doesn't say anything. Once he was in his office alone, he would cover his face with his left hand and start to nervously say ‘Fuck...why is Y/N so damn cute, I’m gonna lose it.’

Levi loves to tease you sometimes, when they tell Levi to cut it out, but he would turn around and give you a small smirk and...chuckle a bit? You would think, wait actually nevermind let him continue.

Anything, literally anything you ask Levi to do or bring something, he is already up and willing to get it for you. “Hey love, could I please-”. “Here.” He knew what you wanted, a snack, so he just open his drawer and gave you your favorite pack of biscuits. “Have it all.” It was one of his ways to show affection and would actually feel good once you thanked him. Watch him giving you more next time.

Keeps. every. single thing. you give your man. He even has a separate drawer for you and he cherish the things you give him. You are the only one who does that to him and he loved that you were the one.

Outside, in the training area, when no one was looking he would push some of your hair that was hanging on your side behind your one of your ear. And you both would exchange glances, a look which both needed the other and the love was real.

Surprise, but he loves it when you kiss his Adam’s apple and would close his eyes while hugging you tightly.

You are the only one he trusts to have his keys to his office and once when Levi entered his office, he saw y/n laying on the coach, sleeping so quietly it warmed his heart. “Y/N waited for me this whole time?”. He would sit beside y/n and cover them with his jacket. He secretly then takes your hand and kisses it.

Overall, Levi has finally found the one, which is you, y/n. And this man would risk his life just for you. He would love his partner so deeply and wants to always be by your side and make sure that as long as you both had each other, things will be okay, and once everything is over he already thought that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

well this was longer than I expected!! I really do hope you all enjoy this and somehow you felt some love and fluff from Levi c: please do leave a like or a reblog if you liked it!

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mayansmcsblog · 3 years

Text

Her world or mine

I have no idea when i wrote this but i found it in my drafts half done so i finished it and- yh that's about it😅

This was meant to be based upon the song her world or mine but i got off track so its only loosely based upon it.

word count: 3640

Enjoy!

He hasn't used the truck for weeks, he had no reason to anymore, being in it only brought back memories of you. The long drives, the short drives too. The way you would hold his hand while he was driving or how you would remind him to pay attention to the road when he looked in your direction for too long. All the memories were fresh within his mind- almost as if it was yesterday.

Even now, he was only sitting in it, he had to do the beer run and obviously that couldn't be done on a bike, he had to take the truck, but all he could think about was how you used to sit in the passenger seat beside him. He could see it in his mind so vividly, if he didn’t know you had moved on he would swear you were sitting with him.

Looking at the dash his gaze caught the Polaroid photo that was still in its place next to the radio. Your face accompanied a smile whilst his had his usual ‘tough’ man expression, but if you looked close enough, you would be able to see a small smile placed upon his lips. You took it at one of the infamous Mayans parties, he remembered how it took you around 10 minutes to ‘convince’ him to take it, he wanted to take it from the moment you suggested it but he wondered how far you would go to get him to do it

“Please” you had been begging him for the last 5 minutes in attempt to get him to take a photo with you but to no avail

“No” you two were sitting on the bench outside the clubhouse, people surrounding the both of you, everyone was involved on their own conversations so neither of you paid any mind to them. Of course he was still aware of his surroundings but was more relaxed than usual

“But come on” you begged

“No y/n” he kept his face as straight as he could but you could slowly see a shadow of a smirk forming upon his lips

“Why?”

“No face no case” he shrugged with a slight smirk on his face, clearly that was a lie. Not even 20 minus prior you had taken a photo of all of the club members standing outside of the clubhouse per bishop’s request so he could frame it and hang it somewhere within the clubhouse to show off the members.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so adamant? “He questioned

“Because”

“Because what?” standing up he motioned for you to do so as well,

“Just because”

“Come on follow me”

Standing up you took this hand as led you away from the party,

“Where are we going?”

“To take this god damn photo”

Recalling that night he felt a pain inevitably run across his chest, sure you two were only friends when it was taken but that night was the foundation for building the relationship you two once shared.

Why had he been so stupid to let you go?

He knew he would have to drive past your place to get to the brewery, it was inevitable really. There was no other way unless he was going to drive an extra 30 minutes, which he didn't have time for.

when he reached the turn in to your street he slowed down a little, looking at your house from a distance he could see a car he didn’t recognize in the driveway. As he got closer he could see two people on the porch, he immediately recognized you accompanied by some guy.

Of course you had someone else.

-----

Sitting on the couch you couldn't help but let your mind drift back to him, you missed his smile, you missed the way he would have a running commentary while watching anything on the TV, you missed how he would hold you after a long day, you missed everything about him.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren't you?”

You did nothing but hum in response

Your brother had elected to stay with you for a few weeks while he was on a business trip for some type of expansion for the company he worked for. Originally it was a good idea, it kept you mind off Ez, but the more time your brother was here, the more he talked about his wife back home and how he couldn't wait to get back to her just made you think about how you don't have someone in your life to look forward to anymore, you no longer had someone you could tell everything to, someone who would stay by your side, someone you knew would be waiting for you when you were away from home. As much as you loved your brother, you were thankful he was leaving tomorrow

“Im gonna go get a drink” standing up you heard your brother mumble something in response but you elected ignored him and heading to the kitchen.

As you approached the fridge you spotted the picture of you and Ezekiel stuck on the door. You were pretty sure it was Coco who had taken when him, you, Ez and Angel went over the border for a day because none of you had anything to do and for some reason Mexico was the first thing that was suggested. You had been meaning to get rid of it but couldn't bring yourself to. Alot of memories were collected between the four of you, some of them you were just not ready to let go of yet.

By now he was probably already in another relationship so why were you still holding on?

Grabbing a bottle of water you headed outside and sat on the porch steps. You knew there was a party at the clubhouse tonight, Angel had invited you to come, but you knew Ez would be there.

Did you really want to see a girl all over him while you're still here alone? Because that would definitely happen

Maybe he wouldn't be there? Or maybe he would be too busy doing stuff to even realize you were there

You were too wrapped up in your own mind to even realize your brother had stepped outside till you heard a creak from the wood behind you

“Y/n?”

“Yeah”

“you okay?" He asked sitting beside you

“yep"

You two sat in silence for a few moments before he started talking once again

“I love you ye? Don’t let that boy ruin you. He lost you by his own fault. You did nothing” he rambled on about how you should have been treated better and how Ez lost the best thing he could ever have. But you knew he was wrong.

Ezekiel always treated you like a queen, your brother met him one time and barely spoke to him for longer than five minutes. As far as you were concerned you brother didn't know anything about him

While he was rambling you were looking into the distance, mainly just looking at the sky but you could have sworn you saw his truck drive past, but maybe you were just seeing things right? His truck wasn't the only one, there were probably millions of them.

The party was in full swing, people were everywhere, the room full of patches from all over. mass amounts of people from charters were visiting in celebration of a new deal with the sons, leaving Ez to tend the bar along with some hang rounds.

Wiping down the bar he couldn't help but think about you for the billionth time today. He knew you two broke things off but it didn't mean you had to leave everyone from the club behind as well as him.

"Bro what the hell is wrong with you?" Angel questioned

"Nothing" shrugging his shoulders he dropped the bar rag and turned to get angel a beer from the fridge behind him

"Stop lyin man, what's going on in that head?" Angel knew his own brother better then to believe 'nothing' was going on with him, something was always going on up in Ez's brain, even if he didn't admit it

"I dunno man, I just think it's weird how y/n left us you know?" Ez shrugged again, handing angel a beer

"She didn't leave us. She’s distancing herself. Got a lot of family shit going on right now" he explained, you kept Angel in the loop with everything, after all he was your best friend even before Ez and you got together, if Ez wouldn't tell you something- Angel would.

"Just think it’s weird" Ez repeated, messing with the bar rag once again

"Ya well she’s coming tonight”

Before Ez could respond coco stood next to Angel

"Who’s comin?"

The brothers looked at each other for a moment before angel came up with an idea

"Just some random bird for our boy scout to bed"

"My man," Coco chuckled "finally gonna get your dick wet huh?"

----

You knew this was a bad idea, you knew he would be here.

Was he going to be with another girl? Actually stupid question, of course he would be

Opening your phone you sent angel a text

‘I'm like five minutes out but i swear to God if you abandon me tonight i will hit you so hard that you can't remember anything for a week’

At least he would walk in with you so you weren’t alone right?

---

Angel stood up abruptly in the middle of a conversation he was having

"Where the fuck you going?" Coco questioned, lighting a cigarette from the chair he was sitting in

"Meet a friend"

"A friend huh?"

"Yeah...maybe you'll like her" Angel replied before grabbing his beer and retreating towards the door.

---

Walking through the gate you saw the front of the club littered with patches. Some of them were from different charters. Weird, angel never mentioned other charters visiting, by the look of the outside, you could only imagine the clubhouse itself is packed with people.

Scanning the crowd you spotted the person in question walking towards you

“Hey stupid face”

“good evening stupid head”

“that's basically the same thing i just said”

"oh shut up i couldn't think of insult fast enough”

Pulling you into a hug you couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed. Angel was always like an older brother to you, an annoying one at that but still a brother.

It had been weeks since you saw him, being back in his company made you feel safe again, almost like a sense of home

He placed a kiss on your temple “We missed you here”

“Yeah, I know” letting him go you looked around, mainly to see if any of the other guys were in sight but also to see if coco was around, expecting to be attacked as per usual.

Angel took notice of you scanning the crowd “He's inside”

“Hmm? Sorry I got no idea what you're on about”

Pulling you into his side he wrapped an arm around your shoulders “sure ya don't”

Walking inside you scanned the crowd once again, thankfully coco was nowhere to be seen for the moment and most of the guys were spread out around the room. Bishop and Taza were playing pool, Gilly and Creeper were sitting at the table in a conversation whilst hank sat opposite them looking at something on his phone, Ez was tending the bar like usual but this time he was accompanied by some hang rounds.

At least there isn't girls hanging off him yet

“C'mon let’s get a drink huh” angel lightly shoved you towards the bar playfully.

“No”

“No?” his eyebrows raised playfully

“No and if you try to make me go over there with you i promise i will embarrass you” you laughed

“Fine”

After he got the drinks you both sat at a table in the corner for a while talking, the majority of the topics were about what had been happening while you were distanced from everyone.

Eventually Coco spotted you two and joined in the conversation. you sat talking to the two of them while everyone else was up to their own things, you didn't mind, the both of them combined made for some very interesting storys, the conversation could never die. After around 10 minutes, Angel had left you two alone saying he “wasn't bout to listen to this shit ''- which was super ironic considering the topic of conversation was about modifications for a new bike coco had brought a few days ago

“How does your bike handle anyway? I heard they are bottom heavy and hard to manoeuvre sometimes” you questioned. overtime Ez had taught you some things about bikes, mainly when he was just rambling about random things not thinking you were really paying attention to what he was saying

“It’s alright i guess, sometimes it slips when I lean too far on corners, other times it tends to not wanna go the way I need to but other than that it handles pretty well, arms hurt like a bitch after long ride though” he explained

Nodding your head you understood where he was coming from, having your arms at that angle for hours must have taken its toll

“Ay '' he nodded his head towards someone behind you, Turning your head you saw it was Ez walking through the door with Angel, seemingly engrossed in some type of conversation they were having.

Despite spotting him earlier you only scanned over his appearance but now you actually took a good look at him, he looked different, not much but still different from before. His hair was in the same style but it little more grown out then usual, his facial hair had grown out a little too. His eyes had bangs underneath them and his face looked drained.

All in all he looked like shit.

“You know he’s not the same without you right?” bringing your attention back to coco you couldn't help but feel like you were to blame, maybe if you fought harder of him you two would have never split.

“You two spoke since?” he questioned

“Nope...I got a few drunk calls saying he was sorry but other than that. No” you shook your head.

After you two first broke up he called you around a week later rambling about something but since he was slurring his words- you could barely understand anything he was saying. You got about 2 voicemails of him saying he was sorry and how he fucked up but- you never spoke to him, never texted him back when he would ask you if you were coming to one of the parties.

“The amount of times we've had to stop him from drunk calling you is unreal”

Playing with the label on the beer bottle in front of you, you thought about what coco said- clearly Ez had attempted to talk to you at some point, but why? The whole breakup was because he needed “space” to deal with some things so why was he trying to talk to you?

“He wanted space, I gave it to him” you shrugged, slowly peeling off the label

“Didn’t mean you had to leave us too” looking up from the bottle you saw coco was now avoiding your gaze

“Yeah...I know” maybe it was wrong of you to drop everyone, but being around them would have only brought back memories of you and Ez. At the time it seemed like a good idea to distance yourself from all of the guys, but now, despite only being here for a hour, you could tell how much you really missed being around them.

“You know he’s walking over here right?” Dropping your head onto the table you let out a sigh causing coco to laugh “I’ll leave you two alone huh?” lifting your head up you looked at him with a facial expression as if to say ‘don’t leave me’ but he did anyway

“Y/n” his voice was low, almost as if he didn’t believe he was saying your name again

“Ezekiel”

“Can we talk?”

“We are talking” sitting up straight you turned in your seat to look at him. He looked even worse up close- the bags under his eyes were alot darker then they seemed from a distance, they made it appear like he hadn’t slept for days, you couldn’t help but notice he had a bruise slowly forming on top of his right eyebrow.

“What happened there?”

He looked confused for a moment till you pointed to his eyebrow

“Oh I erm…got into a fight.....with a wall” his eyes were trained onto the floor, almost like he was ashamed.

You hummed in response not sure how to respond without laughing

“So how have you been?” he questions

“Good i guess..how about you?”

“Alright I suppose”

What followed was nothing but silence between the both of you, neither of you knowing what to say. The sounds of other people talking and rock music became almost deafening as the two of you stayed silent

“Well this got really awkward fast” you spoke up causing Ez to laugh a little

“Yeah..yeah it did” he nodded

After a few more moments you stood from your chair “I'm just gonna-”

“Yeah go, i get it go ahead” he finished your sentence for you.

Nodding you quickly made your way outside, the yard was almost empty by now, people had either left for the night or had moved inside.

You spotted Angel sitting on the front steps fiddling with one of the rings on his hand while looking at something in the distance. You sat beside him in silence, neither of you even attempting to make conversation but simply just being trapped within your own minds.

When you and Ez broke up you knew things would change, you knew the two of you probably wouldn't be able to have the same conversations you would before, but you never expected them being so awkward.

Maybe it was just because the wound was still pretty fresh, after all it had only been just over a month

After a few minutes you heard the door behind you open as someone stepped out, seconds later a figure sat next to you, looking over you saw it was coco

“What we doin? havin a lil moment to yourselves” he asked lighting up a cigarette and offering the both of you one

“Yep” Angel responded, taking one and lighting it before looking somewhere in the distance once again. All three of you sat for a few minutes just looking at seemingly nothing in particular.

Maybe it won't be like this forever? At some point there has got to be a time where you can come to the club without feeling awkward because ez’s here.

You heard the clubhouse door open once more behind you and once again, you didn't turn around, but coco did

"Ay man sit" you heard him say as he snapped his fingers at space left beside him to whoever stepped out from the door. It didn't take long for whoever it was to sit down.

Much like he did with you and Angel, Coco offered the person a cigarette which they must of silently declined from the lack of verbal exchange.

There has to be a point when you and the club can all hang out together like before....there has to be a stage where you and Ez can talk like normal people without it being awkward….right?

Seemingly out of no were Coco spoke up, nodding his head towards two stacked benches on the opposite side of the yard "You think i could clear those in one attempt?"

Angel was the first to respond "Absolutely fucking not" he paused for a moment- looking where the benches were stacked "but I'd love to see you try"

"I bet $50 you fail and fall face first" someone spoke up, looking to your left you finally realized who stepped out earlier ..Ezekiel

"Bet, ill prove you wrong" coco stood, taking off his kutte and placing it on the stair rail "you two wanna place any bets?" Coco looked at you and Angel

"Nope, I'm good" you shook your head

"I bet $50 that you don't clear it" Angel responded

"You have no faith pretty boy" coco responded, shaking his head as he started to walk over to the benches

"This is going to end in a hospital trip" you stated making both Angel and Ez laugh

All three of you watched as coco seemed to examine the height of the two benches, planning the distance he would have to run to gain enough speed to propel himself over them and how he would land the jump

"You think he's gonna snap his nose again?" Ezekiel questioned

"Definitely" both you and Angel replied

All three of you watched as coco began to run towards the benches, from your angle it looked as if he could clear it....you were wrong.

Seconds later coco was laying face first in the dirt, one leg was on the floor while the other was stuck in a piece of wood on the bench that had broke underneath his weight

"I think i broke my nose" you heard coco exclaimed causing all three of you to laugh. The few people who were still outside drew their attention to the scene and started laughing too when they realized what happened.

"Ill go get some paper towels" you said, still laughing.

Maybe this was a sign nothing had changed between the four of you, that you could all still hang out and do stupid stuff like before

Maybe nothing has to change

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

An| hope you enjoyed this fic. Honestly have no idea why or when i started writing this but 🤷🏼‍♀️ . *sorry for any spelling or grammar errors or any parts that don't make sense. only scanned it before posting it*

ALSO- i swear part two to the prank war is coming! Its just talking awhile for me to find a way to describe to things going on as well as being busy with other stuff.

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bakubub · 3 years

Text

In which racer!kuroo is your roommate, and seems to only like it when you treat his wounds... (word count: 1.9k)

Ngl quite proud of this one!!

Warnings: 18+, a whole lot of swearing, a whole lot of blood, innuendos and implied nsfw, reader almost vomits (NOT from pregnancy chill, I know we're all scarred but its going to be just fine) and if you're squeamish perhaps skip the scene where reader stitches his wound?

Also bit of a disclaimer: I am in NO WAY a med student and literally all of my knowledge is from movies and other fics... so if you acc know what to do in this situation this may be a torturous for you :D

All due credits go to @aikk00 for this AMAZING fanart!!!!

I watch as my roommate enters the penthouse, once again scratched up and bleeding, covered in so much blood there is no possible way that it was all his- if it was he would not be standing.

I launch myself off the couch- where I was sitting for the past hour nervously waiting for his return- and slip my arm under his, supporting him as we inched towards the bathroom.

"I can do this by myself you know," he grumbles, his grimace revealing just how much pain he was actually in.

"Mhm, I'm sure you can. Just like you boiled that poor egg by yourself last week, hmm?" I say sarcastically, trying to keep my mind calm and clear, because oh my god it looks really bad this time...

"Oi, its not my fault it fuckin' exploded," he mutters, voice laden with pain.

"You put it in the microwave because 'the shitty water wasn't doing its job.' Of course it would explode," I say, gently seating him on the closed toilet seat and taking out my supplies that I unfortunately have become rather accustomed to using. He's made it a habit to get himself injured.

"Where's the injury?" I ask, setting down my half-empty bottle of antiseptic and box of bandages. He peels off his shirt, cringing at the pain it brought him as the fabric was stuck to the gash that went from his left pectoral down to the middle of his chest.

"Pissed off a bidder after winning a race, fucker took out a knife once he realised he couldn't beat me up," he huffs out, arrogance still lacing his tone even with sweat dripping down his brow as he leans the back of his head onto the tile wall behind him. His Adam's apple bobs down his bloodstained neck as he speaks, and I quickly look away, focusing on the injury at hand.

Not his blood soaked, but nevertheless well defined pectoral muscles, nor the abs that my hands occasionally brush up against and know how hard they really are, and definitely not the trail of black hairs that lead down, down, down...

"What's wrong, the view too hot to focus on the work at hand?" He asks suggestively, raising his pierced brow, even in this state.

I'm quick to reply, having gotten used to his flirtatious remarks from the second I moved into his penthouse, "nope can't even see the view from that massive head of yours. Not to mention your permanent bed head."

He huffs out a laugh, then proceeds to flinch from the pain it must have caused.

"Stop moving, idiot. You're going to exacerbate the cut!" I say, quickly grabbing a damp towel and beginning to clean up his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pressing another rag to his wound to stop the bleeding.

“At least you admit that there is a hot view,” he says in his low voice, gazing at me from his position.

I simply roll my eyes.

No falling in love. That was the deal we had made on the day he offered me a place to stay in exchange for my services as a maid and apparently, a nurse. I cook, clean and basically keep the house running while this moron goes out and acts like the idiot he is. In my defense, dorms are expensive as hell, and his penthouse is nearby. Plus, I don't have to pay rent. It's a win-win situation.

But the feelings stirring up inside my heart might just ruin the dynamic we have going on and simultaneously take out a whole lot of cash out of my pocket.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Once his skin isn't completely saturated in blood, and the wound has (thankfully) stopped bleeding, I add some antiseptic onto a make-up pad and begin to dab at his wound, earning winces and slight grunts from the massive man.

"The cut looks deep, Kuroo. You need to go to the hospital," I say, worry lacing my tone as my eyebrows crease and earn yet another huffing laugh.

"Do you want me to rot in prison for the rest of my life?"

I roll my eyes at his response, deliberately dabbing just a little harder which earns me a yelp and an attempted glare in my direction.

"First off, illegal street racing won't send you to prison for your entire life, just for like, half a year. Second, this wound needs stitches, and believe it or not, I'm not a fucking licensed medic. In fact, the only experience I have is with you!" I say, immediately regretting my choice of words as I wait for his remark.

"That's what she said," He says, chuckling at his own innuendo.

I sigh in frustration, pouring more antiseptic to make sure there was no chance of infection from whatever grimy ass knife stabbed him, and beginning to gently scrub the wound with a soft towel, so as to make sure there was no debris left in there.

"You're gonna have ta do it," he mutters, his hazel eyes boring into mine.

"I- I can't Kuroo, you can't possibly think-"

"Fine. I'll do it. Go get me a needle and thread," he states, struggling but nevertheless, sitting upright on the red stained toilet.

I stare at Kuroo in disbelief as he utters these words. Was he dumber than I thought? Does he have some sort of head injury too?

I examine his face and all I come up with is unnerving determination. I exhale out of my nose sharply, "fine, dammit. I'll sew your fucking wound shut."

I am extremely handy with a sewing needle and thread, used to really be into embroidery back when I had the time so...it should be fine.

He just shrugs, leaning his head back against the tiles and closing his eyes.

"Fucking asshole. Can't believe I'm saving your damn life," I mutter, leaving the bathroom to dig through my wardrobe for my sewing box and taking out a gold silk thread that I was saving for a special project.

Well, I guess that will never happen.

"Hey, I found some silk thread. It's literally known for its strength and durability in high temperatures, so it should work like a charm!" I say, walking back into the blood stained bathroom and trying to psych myself up.

He grunts in response. I sigh as I begin with mopping up the excess blood and sanitising the needle and thread before chucking on gloves.

I wipe the antiseptic over the wound once more, and examine it carefully.

Well, if his condition worsens, I can always knock him out and call an ambulance...

I decide, screw it, and thread the needle, pretending it was just another embroidery project.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I chant as I puncture his skin with the thin needle.

Kuroo gasps in pain, and I place a hand on his knee, telling him to suck it up and deal with it, half talking to him but also to myself.

To my surprise, he listens, stretching his head back once more and gritting his teeth.

"Don't do that, here put this in-between your teeth," I say, grabbing yet another towel and shoving it into his mouth.

He obeys as I continue to stitch. I feel my gag reflex kicking in as I think about how stitching skin feels as though I am stitching leather, it feels hard and tough while pushing the thin needle through.

Must hurt like a bitch.

Once I've completed my neat stitches down the wound, without vomiting, I tie it off as I would with any embroidery, and clean the area free of any remaining blood. After rubbing some antibacterial ointment over the gold stitches, I stick on a particularly large bandage over the wound and start tidying up.

"Thank you," Kuroo mutters, still seated on the toilet seat and practically panting for breath.

"Ah, the criminal knows his damn manners!! Now get up and get in the damn shower. You ruined my pristine bathroom!" I complain, putting the last of the materials away before walking to the door.

"Wait, I- I can't get up." I turn around and look at him incredulously as he utters his next few words, "will you... shower me?"

My eyes just about pop out of their sockets at his request. "Are you insane?! I'm not your mother, nor your wife! Call your pudding haired friend and tell him to come shower you!"

He shakes his head, a rare pleading look taking the place of his usual arrogant smirk, "Kenma's too lazy to shower himself, Y/n, please!"

I contemplated it for a moment. Sure, I've seen him naked before, accidentally of course, and so what if I have to scrub him clean. God knows he can't do it himself with that damn injury.

Fuck this shit.

"Fine, get up right now." I bark at him, leaving to change out of my blood soaked pjs into a pair of shorts and a tank.

"...I just said I can't."

---

"Ow, y/n, you're scrubbing too hard!" He complains, his exfoliating glove around my hand as I rub his toned back clean of any dead skin-cells and blood remains.

"But look how much stuff is coming off!" I say gleefully, enjoying this a little too much.

Kuroo, seated on the built-in bench in the open shower with his red boxers on, looks back to see the satisfaction dripping from my features.

"Are you secretly a sadist?" he whispers. In response, I begin to rinse off his raw back with hot water, causing him to screech like a cat.

"It burns, it burns-”

“Shut the fuck up, moron! It's 4 in the morning, you’re going to annoy our neighbours. I tried very hard to get in their good graces, and Mrs. Suzuki still doesn’t like me! She definitely thinks I’m some kind of hooker…” Kuroo laughs at this, and I can’t help but watch as his whole face brightens up from his usual emotionless expression. I find myself smiling in response.

I grab his expensive shampoo and pour some into my hands, beginning to massage it into his scalp. With wet hair, his raven strands are for once flat on his head and reach down to his defined jawline. Kuroo groans under my touch, leaning into my fingers. I snatch my hands back and pour hot water over his head.

"ARGH! Y/N!" He screams, hastily getting up and wetting me in the process.

"Ah- what are you-" I don't get to finish my question as he grabs my arm and yanks me next to him under the hot water, soaking my clothes and my hair.

"You asshole!" I screech as I reach up to pull his hair in defiance, but he only grabs my arm and hooks it around his neck, leaning down to look directly into my eyes.

Our noses brushing against one another, he mutters, "You look pretty with your hair wet and your shirt see through."

It takes me a moment to get past the compliment and to hear the perverted comment that he just uttered.

He sees my look of confusion and laughs, bends over, clutches his stomach and laughs, before bellowing in pain because of his injury.

Smiling smugly down at him as he grimaces, I force him to sit back down and continue massaging the shampoo into his hair, warning him that if he so much as moaned I would leave him in here, dripping wet and in pain.

"That's what he said," is his reply.

I smack his head in response.

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu drabbles #racer!kuroo #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyu fics #haikyuu!!#kuroo x y/n #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo x gn!reader #kuroo x you

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ganymedesclock · 3 years

Text

So I discovered the trailer for Belle (2021), and it’s making me think about what I love about Beauty and the Beast riffs, and what makes a story scratch that particular itch for me or not.

And I think a huge part of it for me is the examination of monstrosity as a social role. To just use Disney’s animated classic as my base for comparison here, Adam, The Beast, is not literally cursed with fur and fangs, claws and horns- he has those things, and may have mixed feelings about them, others certainly have bad reactions to them-

-his curse is ostracization. His curse is to not be seen as human. What actual, physical features he has are irrelevant to that. They’re just quirks he can learn to live with, or a further excuse to tell himself he deserves this isolation, this frustration, this misery.

So the breaking of the curse, to me, is not the scene where Belle sobs confirmation of what we knew well before then into his stilling chest and brings him back, minus those quirks- if anything, that his happiness comes with the loss of those things has seemed to me (and I’m not alone) as almost something of a betrayal depending on how it’s framed.

By contrast, to me, the breaking of the curse is the ballroom scene, and the moments leading up to it. Adam returns to Adam, rather than The Beast, at the point that he decides that he deserves to be treated like a human being- not as a labor of love from Belle, but from himself. Yes, it’s love with Belle that they dance together, that they have this ball scene when there’s no high society to impress, but before that point, he had to make a decision; that he can clean up and dress nice and have an evening. That he deserves to.

When we first see The Beast, he has all of the means and resources to act like a prince, to present like one. He could make himself comfortable and be surrounded by splendor, but the truest thing he suffers under is he’s ceased to see himself as worth the effort. It’s not as if he could cut the fur down and prune back his claws, file down the horns, and look the way he feels he ought to- the way he thinks he should. He’s broken every mirror in his house except for the one he hides from, and this is a gesture of absolute defeat. He knows what he looks like. He can’t pretend he doesn’t. The only way he can tolerate this is not looking at himself.

As a neurodivergent queer person, the monster in the mirror is something I have a very complicated relationship with. I have an “advantage” in some ways. My appearance is not shocking to most people. I do not benefit from an obvious mobility aid or assistive device; I speak within a range people think of is normal. I have an “unusual haircut” for a “girl” and I don’t aggressively correct people on my pronouns or presentation.

But I’ve always had this feeling, that perhaps, my fangs and fur were simply easy things to trim off, and it’s so easy to wonder, would I still be okay if they weren’t? Because really, it’s none of the granular details that make a monster. For every imagined horror creature, there’s almost certainly a real animal it resembles, and real animals are not monsters. A monster is a monster; anything else, we believe, has a place, has a home. Deserves to exist.

To be a monster is to be a thing that doesn’t fit, or, more directly, to be a monster is to be a thing that is unaccepted. Rejected for not fitting. Unworthy of love, from within, or without.

At the end of the day, I know, factually, I am not a monster. I know that I’m a real person. I know that I deserve dignity and respect and love, even if only from myself. I’m not owed another person to love me just to prove that I can be, but, also, no man is an island; as humans we seek each other one way or another, romantically or platonically. That’s a fact of anyone, not just people who struggle to see a real person when they look at their reflection.

And yet, at this same time, I can’t help but feel betrayed, left behind, when the narrative goes that if the monster does everything right its reward is to be shaped into the likeness of a Real Human Being. Because you can’t just pull a feathered skin off me and make me like I “should be”, like my various diagnoses and self-identifications all present me as an aberration from. If you showed me a me without any of those qualities, that’s honestly the thing I’m the most afraid of, a me without me. A Miss Perfect who’s a good, normative daughter, and in my insecurity I wonder if people would like her so much better than me that they wouldn’t miss if I was gone.

Which, that’s nonsense. I know a lot of people who care about me the way I am. But nobody ever said fears had to be rational.

At the end of the day, as much as I hate the idea of being a monster to others, I also relish the notion of qualities that are categorized as monsters. I love dragons. I love putting big, horrible teeth and leering eyes and wings and claws on heroic characters. Because brought into the light, qualities are just qualities. And if you bring those qualities into the favoring, soft light of stories about human connection, romances, queerplatonic bonds, friendships and found family alike, those qualities can even be charming, alluring, inspiring; a character can look like anything and we still feel a rush of reassurance that this specific character is there.

And that’s the other side of Beauty and the Beast: Adam is running away from being a monster, and Belle is trying to run away from who she is, too. Because Belle is the other side of that trap.

Let’s be honest; it isn’t just that Belle’s an outspoken woman with opinions. It’s that she’s pretty. She’s the prettiest girl in town. She’s someone people want, people have expectations for- and those expectations have little room for what she actually wants. Hell, that’s one of the major dangerous driving forces of the climax- Adam nearly gets murdered by a mob because Belle made a choice that her community really didn’t like, especially Gaston, and it’s easy to point to Adam as the wrong choice because he’s pointy.

“Beauty”, as much as “The Beast”, are dehumanizing categories that people are sorted into. The doll and the monster. One is considered beneath monstrosity; beguiling, an object of appeal and desire but not someone with opinions, oh no, and not someone able to make a choice that you disagree with. People driven to the fringes by opposing forces but regardless find each other in the place they’re trying to find room to breathe in.

And that, I think, is one way some of these riffs can, for me personally, miss the point- and that’s not a mark against them, it’s just that there’s a specific thing I see in this story, and it’s very specifically not, “to be beautiful and desirable to mass public consumption is the way to be happy; we will have a story about how to rehabilitate someone so they can be beautiful too” but rather, “what does it mean when people stop seeing you as yourself, whether the alternative is perfection or a monster? what would you do to be seen clearly?”

#writing ruminations #beauty and the beast #readmore

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

WRONG (3)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you find yourself at the tattoo parlor more often as of late. also, jungkook hates lemon jelly filled donuts and is easily bribed by mint chocolate and macarons. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

Sora’s unbridled passion for why she believes Jungkook is wrong for you has never irritated you as much as it does in this moment. You’ll never understand why she’s so adamant about the topic, when it’s not her decision. When she knows that you’ve been harboring a small crush on the man for years now, and you’re fairly certain he returns your affections.

When the man told you that he had put an orange heart next to your name, you knew it was real.

You don’t understand why Sora is determined to make things so complicated, when they don’t have to be. You don’t believe her claims that he’s a fuckboy, that he treats people like trash. He’s shown you the opposite. He’s so gentle with everyone, not just you. He’s blunt but he has a big heart under all of the leather and layers of black.

If there’s a word to describe him, it’s dreamy.

Which is why you’re so hurt that Sora refuses to give him a chance. After all, if she was your best friend, shouldn’t she offer him a chance for your sake?

It confuses you.

“I’ve heard so many bad things about him,” Sora says knowingly, swirling her glass of wine in her hands. You don’t feel very much like drinking, not when your stomach swirls in unease. Being in her apartment is nothing new, but right now, you’d rather be anywhere else.

“But what things? And from who? Jungkook is such a genuine guy and he hasn’t done anything for people to start rumors about him,” You protest, but your words fall on deaf ears, “And I like him-”

“I mean come on, have you seen him? The man radiates bad vibes. My friends have all said-”

“Bad vibes? You’re dismissing him because of bad vibes when I’m telling you that-”

“I’m your best friend, don’t you think I know these things?” Sora says, heat and arrogance in her voice, “I’m only looking out for you. It’s shitty that you’re dismissing me for a guy-”

“I’m not dismissing you-” But your voice grows smaller and smaller, something that you think Jungkook might be disappointed in you for.

“It sure as hell sounds like you are,” Sora sneers with a cold sort of tilt to her lips, “Listen. I’m just looking out for you, even if you don’t seem to appreciate it. I thought we were best friends. Friends look out for each other, but if you don’t want to listen to me, that’s on you.”

Something dry settles in your throat and something heavy settles in your chest.

“He’s not good news,” Sora continues, as if she can’t see your heart beginning to ache, “I’ll find someone who will treat you much better, don’t worry.” She pats your knee in a way that is supposed to be reassuring but you wince.

You don’t want her favors, but it’s too late for you to protest. Besides if you did, she’d feel awful and you never want to be the cause of her being upset. She’s your best friend after all. And what kind of friend would you be, if you upset her to that degree?

But still... you don’t want anyone else. You want the sensitive man who gets misty-eyed by powerful renditions of Beyonce songs, the man who texts you until you fall asleep, the man who asks you what color to paint his nails when he feels like it.

You kind of want the sensitive man dressed in layers of black.

You let Sora talk your ear off about all of the guys she has in mind for you, but you stop listening. You don’t understand this vendetta she has against Jungkook, the vendetta that she’s always had. But she is correct about one thing- she is your best friend and has your best interests at heart...right?

The four walls of the tattoo parlor that you’ve begun frequenting more and more often begins to feel more and more like a welcome place in recent days. You’ve always been friendly with the guys, especially Yoongi and Hoseok.

Even if Yoongi doesn’t work at the parlor, he’s here frequently enough.

Though Yoongi and Hoseok are some of your oldest friends, you’ve only come to the parlor a handful of times in the past. Once that realization hit you, you’d made it a point to stop by more often.

Why hadn’t you before?

They’re your oldest friends, but these days, you feel closer to Mina and Mei as well. While you do have other girlfriends who you see as often as your collective schedules align, it’s still different.

But still. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly belonged with anyone. You feel as if you’ve been floating through life, with Sora by your side (at least half the time, when she’s not spewing criticism over the man you have feelings for).

Thinking about it gives you a headache and makes you feel nostalgic for something that you never had. But maybe it’s something you can have.

“Hey, you,” Mei calls from reception, where she’s sitting next to Hobi who waves at you, “What brings you here? Finally gonna let me pierce you?”

“I brought donuts,” You shrug, “And I’m not ready for that surgical instrument to touch me, thanks very much.”

“You can stop by without the pretense of bringing sweet treats over,” Hobi says knowingly, “I mean none of us will complain about donuts, but you know that right? You can come by anytime you want.”

“O-okay,” You nod, your throat feeling a little dry.

“Now, come here and let me see what you got. If there’s a lemon jelly filled donut, save that for Jungkook. He hates them.”

“You got plans this evening?” Mei asks, grabbing her bright red purse that’s nearly the size of your head. Her purse matches her bright red nails and for half a second, you’re mesmerized by the glossiness of her nails.

“No, other than getting ready for tomorrow’s day of work-”

“Great! Wanna come with me to the tattoo supply store? I have to pick up more needles, grips and gloves.”

“Sure,” You shrug, a little excited at the prospect of a quick adventure for Mei, “I’ll just say bye to Hobi.”

He’s already watching you with mirth in his eyes, as if he knows what you’re about to say. “Hey, will you tell Jungkook I said hi?” You murmur, feeling your ears burning at his smug grin.

“Sure, I will,” Hobi grins, “I’m sure he feels bad about not being able to say hi to you himself. He’s had a busy day.”

“Understandable,” You nod, “I mean, you guys say he’s the best in the city, right? I’m sure he’s got a waitlist of people who want to be tatted by him.”

“Maybe someday he’ll tattoo you, huh?” He says mischievously to which you roll your eyes and feel your face heat up.

“He would be so lucky,” You scoff, as if the notion of Jungkook tattooing your body doesn’t make something flutter in your belly.

“We have this competition at the parlor where the person who makes the most tips has to buy the supplies on a monthly basis,” Mei says smugly, “Usually, it’s Kook but for the last few months it’s been me.”

That doesn’t surprise you in the least- Hobi has told you that Mei and Mina are both skilled in realistic and watercolor tattoos, as well as piercings. You think if you were ever to receive a tattoo from either Mei or Mina, you would tip them for the mere fact of them being so close in your presence for so long.

They used to intimidate you, when Hobi had first introduced you to them. Mina with her sleek bob haircut, and Mei with her long, glossy waves. Both of them had nose piercings and their ears were dotted in different hoops and rods. You’d only caught a glimpse of their tattoos a handful of times- Mei has a full sleeve on her right arm where Mina’s tattoos seem to be more hidden.

They’re just so cool and funny and smart.

“How did you all get the idea for the tattoo parlor? Like, was it a business decision or were you all friends before?” You ask curiously.

“Well… Jin, Mina and I have been friends since we were kids, our parents are really close. Jin had this dream of opening his own tattoo and piercing parlor for the longest time. Jungkook and Hobi joined a few months after we officially opened. It took a while, but we’re where we are now,” Mei says fondly.

“That’s incredible! You guys started from the ground up,” You say, in awe, “That parlor is your baby.”

“Fuck, yeah it is,” Mei grins, “What about you? What cool tech stuff is going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

“Um…” Your face heats up at the compliment, “I’m currently helping in developing this app for one of our clients, it’s specific for tracking and trending information related to chronic health conditions. It’s still in its infancy, but it’s been fun! And it’s job security, I guess.”

Mei lets out a low whistle, “Wow, you’re doing something like that by yourself?”

“No, I have a pretty great team,” You shrug, “Something like that definitely can’t be done alone.”

Mei hums, “You’re gonna be great, Ms. CEO.”

“Yeah right, I’d never want that burden,” You scoff, “I’m good right where I am.”

With both of your arms full of bags of supplies for the tattoo parlor (and some extras), you both walk out of the shop and towards Mei’s sleek, black car. It’s late, and you don’t really feel much like taking public transportation. But you’re nervous to ask Mei for a ride home for some reason.

“Hey, did you drive to the parlor?” Mei asks.

“N-no, I don’t have a car yet,” You reply, “I only just bought my condo and didn’t want to make another big purchase just yet. I want to start looking though…”

“Oh! I’ll drive you home then,” Mei offers once she starts the engine.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of out of the way from here,” You reply, folding in on yourself a little in the passenger seat.

Mei only waves you off. “Oh, please. What kind of friend would I be if I just left you to get home alone?”

You bite your tongue, as vivid memories of Sora claiming that she didn’t have enough gas in the tank or her asking for gas money for the ten minute drive from her apartment building to your condo flash in your mind.

“Thank you, Mei,” You say gratefully, “Let me know how much to Venmo you, for gas money-”

“Gas money? For a seven minute drive? Is that a joke,” Mei gasps, “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I asked!”

“Asking me for gas money,” Mei mutters, “You said you want to start looking for a car?”

Her smile twists into something mischievous.

“Yeah, I have no idea where to start though…”

“Ask your boy, Jungkook. Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin work at a car dealership and they’re his roommates, I’m sure he’d be eager to help you.” Something in her voice is coy but you maintain a neutral face.

“Yeah… maybe I will,” You say thoughtfully, “Hey! He’s not my boy-”

“Alright, alright,” Mei relents gently, “But really, reach out to him. He’ll help you. So that those boys don’t scam you like the sleazy car salesmen that they are.”

When you see Jungkook next at the tattoo parlor which is conveniently on your way home from work (again with a box of pastries), you muster the courage to step into his office to ask him for help.

“Hi,” You say weakly, “Umm… I come bearing gifts. Got some of those mint chocolate brownie bars that you like, and those macarons-”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to bribe me, baby,” Jungkook says, smirking widely when your lips part in protest.

“If I was trying to bribe you, it wouldn’t be with mint chocolate. Disgusting,” You roll your eyes and squeal out loud when he lunges for you, giving you a teasing but tight back hug.

“Take it back,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. You hardly hear him, too wrapped up in the warmth of the big black hoodie he’s wearing. The soft, gentle scent of laundry and vanilla floats into your nose when you turn your head to press your cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat is faint against your ear. You wonder if he can hear yours speeding up.

“Mint chocolate sucks. It’s a fact,” You mumble.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” His voice comes as a low grumble from his chest and you swallow nervously. Before your nerves can get the best of you, he changes the topic. “Mei told me you’re in the market for a new car?”

“I don’t really know where to start, but I’ve already started doing some research,” You reply, pointing to your small backpack. You pull out a binder with meticulously colored tabs labeled in neat print that Jungkook raises an eyebrow at.

“What?”

“You just carry around a binder with your research on car purchases at all times? Is that what you do?”

“I have to be prepared!”

“Sometimes you just need a vibe check-”

“You want me to purchase an entire vehicle worth about a million and one paychecks based on just a vibe check? Is that what you did with your motorcycle?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook gives you a crooked smile, “And a little research. I guess.”

“You guess,” You mutter under your breath.

Jungkook has been more touchy with you once you had given him the go ahead all those weeks ago. He doesn’t show his affections with you unless you’re both alone, and it’s never anything more than hugs and the occasional brush of hands.

He’s melting you from the outside in, and you bask in his radiant heat. The thought of Sora’s approval doesn’t bother you, not when he hugs you like this.

But as always. Her disapproving voice worms its way into your head and you reluctantly peel away from him to sit on the faded burgundy couch with the box of macarons on your lap.

“So,” Jungkook says, immediately feeling the loss of your warmth in his limbs, “How can I help?”

tags: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you

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15-dogs · 3 years

Text

hugger |n.s.|

pairing: newt scamander x reader

summary: you begin to develop feelings for newt, your employer, and accidentally do the one thing he hates: hugs (super super fluffy! pining, friends to lovers, takes place in between fbawtft and fb:tcog)

warnings: extremely minimal swearing, getting injured (nothing serious!), a niffler giving birth (?)

guide: (Y/N) = your name, italics = flashback

word count: 2.1K

a/n: this was supposed to be a blurb LMAO i rewatched fantastic beasts and unearthed my 8th grade crush on him which gave me this as a product! i hope you like it!!

“Denied again?” you asked Newt. He gave you a curt nod as he paced towards the Kelpie pool.

You frowned; he always seemed to get quieter after he returned from the Ministry. It had been his third attempt to regain his international passport and, of course, his third run in with his brother, Theseus. And you knew how complicated their relationship was. Newt never really talked about Theseus, except for the offhand comments he would make about him.

So far, all you had gathered about the mysterious Scamander was that he was tall, an Auror, and quite the hugger. You nearly burst out laughing when Newt had mentioned that last little fact about his brother as if it were reason enough to dislike him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Scamander, but that just doesn’t seem like something to hate a person over.”

Newt exhaled in quiet laughter as he pet a Mooncalf, grabbing some treats from the bucket he held. He flashed a kind smile at the Mooncalf before turning off and dropping the bucket to the ground, staring you down from across his basement.

“You haven’t met Theseus, then.”

Newt refused to meet your eyes as he joined you in caring for the Leucrotta. You chewed your lip— perhaps you were making a mistake, talking to him so plainly. He was your employer, after all. You weren’t there to help him make nice with his older brother.

Yet, you continued to speak as if you were a personal acquaintance of his. “What I’m trying to say is you’re an incredibly kind, sweet person, Mr. Scamander.”

That got his attention. His head slowly raised to meet yours, and when he saw you were already looking at him, he looked away. But that did not deter you.

“You refer to yourself as these creatures’ mother!” you announced with playful exasperation. That got to him, a soft, harmonic chuckle escaping his lips. “You have such a big heart. I suppose I’m just a little shocked that hugging is the disqualifier.”

Newt’s smile faded as he processed your words. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, thick with emotion. He then shook his head as if it would drive the feelings away, pointing you off towards another creature in need of care.

“Well, what are you going to do?” you prodded, making your way beside him. “Try again?”

“Yes,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug, “that’s exactly what I plan on doing. And I’ll keep at it until I get that ban lifted.”

You snorted. “I can see why you were a Hufflepuff— dedication like no other, Mr. Scamander.”

Newt glanced up at you with a lopsided grin that had your stomach flipping for a moment. The tips of your ears began to heat up and you prayed to Merlin that your hair covered them.

You had known for a while that you had feelings for Newt. It started cultivating inside you with every adoring smile, every impassioned statement, every quiet appraisal. It had soon grown too big to go unnoticed and you knew you were in far too deep.

“Quiet now, quiet now,” Newt whispered to the little Bowtruckle, “mum’s here.”

You were padding down the steps from his apartment, reading the instructions on the back of a potion vile. He had advised you to get it from his medicine cabinet for your headache but you weren’t entirely sure that you picked up the right one.

“Mr. Scamander…” your voice trailed off at the sight of his maternal tendencies.

“I know, I know,” he cooed, “but change can be a good thing. On you hop.” He continued to pet the small and pouty thing before placing it into the makeshift nest he had created, where it was welcomed by the rest of its friends.

That small moment, seemingly insignificant, had caused you to completely fall for Newt. His soft, green eyes fell upon you with a gentle, questioning look at the potion you held. You nodded, answering his silent question without actually telling the truth because, if Newt could be as seemingly perfect as he was day in and day out, you could suffer with a headache for one day.

“Prepare the ointment, please.”

You raised the large container of ointment that you had mixed together in preparation for Newt’s return. “Don’t have to ask me twice, Mr. Scamander.”

He nodded his head towards a desk where you placed the container down.

Newt began to take off his trademark royal blue coat, flinging it onto a desk as he conversed with you about your work. “How has Molly been?”

You eyed the pregnant Niffler which was milling about in its cage. “Quite well, actually. She’s due any day now.”

“And the other Nifflers?”

“Niffler-y, as always,” you joked, earning a smile from the sandy haired man before you.

“Lovely.” Newt finally turned around, examining your state. “You’ll join me, won’t you? Kelpie’s are easier with two people.”

“Right, yes, of course.”

“Brilliant.”

You undid the buttons on your blouse with haste so that you stood in your pants and camisole, pulling your hair from your eyes as you prepared to hop into the pool. It wasn’t like it was the first time you’d done this, but each time had your nerves thrumming with anxieties that something would go wrong.

You spun around as you took a step towards the edge of the pool, standing shoulder to shoulder with Newt. He extended his hand without looking down, taking yours in his perfectly rough ones, your mouth instantly going dry. Newt looked over at you, so incredibly close that your noses nearly brushed against one another. He nodded and so did you, both hopping backwards into the pool.

Your camisole popped up from the sudden force and Newt quickly looked away as you tucked it back in to the best of your ability. As soon as you were done, you splashed some water his way, striking him in the chest. His eyes went wide with amusement as he did the same to you, hitting you square in the face.

A small wave knocked the two of you back under, the Kelpie swimming its way towards you. You and Newt managed to grab a hold of it, barely staying on as it bucked you two up and down.

After about the third time the Kelpie lept from the water, you cemented your grip. You let out a loud whoop as the cold air kissed your wet skin, Newt also cheering beside you. The Kelpie dove deep under the water, preparing to rocket you two up. As it breached the water, Newt sent you a disarming smile that had your hands subconsciously loosening. As the Kelpie snapped back under the water, you were thrown off, your body just narrowly missing the stone columns of the pool and splashing with a loud crack in the water.

“(Y/N)!” Newt cried out. His voice was drowned out by the water and by the fact that the pain from the fall had you slipping in and out of consciousness. It was the last thing you heard before you passed out, deep under the water.

You awoke to smell of a savory broth soup flooding in from the room over. You looked around the familiar space, soon realizing that you were sat on Newt’s couch, a blanket tucked firmly up to your chin. Your cheeks grew warm as you inhaled the scent that was distinctly him, scolding yourself for the childish crush you had developed.

You adjusted yourself, sitting up to see a tray of tinctures on the table beside you with a note that read, “Please take these when you wake! Newt.” You followed his orders, slugging them back with a wince at each unpleasant taste.

But then you heard a strange noise from the basement. It was a mix between a squeak and a whine, concerning enough to pull you from your cozy spot on Newt’s couch. You stood up and peered around the corner, hearing a soft, offkey hum ringing from the kitchen where Newt most likely was cooking his dinner. The sound of his voice warmed your heart and you almost, almost, got up to speak with him but you figured you had caused him enough trouble for the day. So instead, you headed into the basement by yourself.

You gripped the railings on the stairs with immense force, hoping not to fall over. Your body felt sore which you could only attribute to your accident earlier. You stopped at the bottom of the steps, peering around when you were met with a pained cry from the Niffler cage. You ran up to it to see Molly the pregnant Niffler whimpering in pain as another Niffler nudged at her stomach.

“Oh, Merlin,” you muttered, “you’re about to give birth, aren’t you, Molls?”

As if Molly could understand you, she let out a loud squeal.

“Oh, Merlin. Time to put that Hogwarts education to the test, I suppose,” you mumbled to yourself to give yourself the confidence you needed to deliver the little Niffler babies.

You snatched the pair of gloves from beside the cage and tugged them on tight, casting a spell so they’d perfectly fit your hands. You unlocked the cage to take Molly out, moving her into a small tray with bedding in it.

“Okay, Molls, you got this. Mum’s here.”

You rubbed her stomach in small circles, feeling the baby— no, babies— squirm around. One thing was for certain: you needed Newt.

“Mr. Scamander!” you called upstairs. No response. “Mr. Scamander, please!” Still no response. “Merlin’s beard, Newt! Get down here!”

No later did you hear heavy steps growing louder behind you. “(Y/N)! You’re awake! Are you okay-”

You didn’t have time for his rambling. You sent a panicked look over your shoulder, meeting his wide eyes. “Molly is giving birth. Triplets.”

“Merlin’s beard.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it in contemplation. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s a fighter, I’ll tell you that.”

“What can I do to help you?”

You whipped around. Apparently you’d be delivering the babies. You took in a sobering breath, steadying your shaking hands.

“Something shiny, some snacks, and a towel.”

Newt scrambled around the workspace as fast as he could, dropping the items in front of you. You laid out the towel and snacks beside Molly, massaging her stomach as you felt the babies start to move more than before. It was time. You pulled the shiny object out from behind your back, dangling it above Molly’s head as she delivered three adorable Niffler babies, so distracted by the object that she didn’t realize that she’d given birth. You escorted the babies onto the towel, allowing them to nibble on the snacks as you stripped the gloves off.

“Merlin,” you murmured to yourself in astonishment, “Merlin! I just…”

Newt’s smile was so big it nearly split his face. He nodded, sharing in your excitement. “You did,” he assured.

Completely forgetting about professionalism, you hopped onto him, engulfing him in a tight hug while you laughed melodically. Newt’s thin frame stiffened in your grasp. You gasped, jumping off of him with your hands up.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Scamander. No hugs, I forgot.”

Newt simply stared at you, searching your eyes. You gulped as he took a step closer to you.

“Theseus tends to believe that a hug is just as useful as an apology, so I don’t quite like hugs for that reason.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say.

The corner of Newt’s lips twitched upwards, looking around before meeting your gaze. He took another step forward before taking you in his arms. You began to wonder if he could feel your heart pounding in your chest, whether he assumed it was from adrenaline or knew that it was him that drove you mad.

“You should be proud of yourself!” He pulled away to look in your eyes, his arms slinking downwards to rest around your waist. “And, please, (Y/N), no more with the Mr. Scamander business. I’d like to think that we’re well acquainted enough for you to call me Newt.”

If professionalism was damned before, it was most certainly damned now.

Merlin, he was so close, you couldn’t help yourself. With your arms wrapped behind his neck, you pulled him into a long overdue kiss. Your heart thundered in your chest but you were too focused on the way his lips melted perfectly into yours, the way he kissed you back with such hunger and vigor that you had to hold onto him tighter, the way you began to smile as he attempted to figure out where to place his hands.

You pulled away a moment later, Newt following your lips with unpleasant surprise. All you could do was let out a soft chuckle as your cheeks turned pink.

A teasing grin grew on his lips that had your stomach flipping. “I’m positive now that we’re well acquainted enough for you to call me Newt.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

general taglist: @pandaxnienke @lunalovecroft

#newt scamander #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander fanfiction #newton artemis fido scamander #theseus scamander #magizoologist #magizoologist reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #newt scamander imagine #newt scamander oneshot #tw injury #newt scamander fluff #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts: the crimes of grindelwald

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thefact0rygirl · 3 years

Text

ROUGH BOY, SWEET WORDS | Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: praise kink, affirmation play (is that a thing?), tied up/restrained hands, mention of face sitting, grinding, teasing, penetrative sex (p in v), cowgirl, creampie, alluding to a breeding kink, cockwarming, soft!din

Summary: Din just wants to be held and whispered words of affirmation. He just doesn’t know it.

{masterlist} {cross-posted on ao3}

Din Djarin has no qualms praising you and showering you with affection, but struggles when you return that same affection.

And "struggles” is putting it lightly.

He is a Mandalorian, a warrior. Being treated like porcelain is the exact opposite of what has been ingrained into him.

Din is also your partner, your riduur. It has taken him so long to become comfortable with the idea that someone as morally grey as him could be likened to a rare stone in another person’s eyes. Over time, he has let down his walls to bathe in your warmth and affection, but there are still moments when he shies away from it.

Like now.

Since reuniting Grogu with the Jedi, Din has grown wary of your compassion and sincerity. It feels alienating to him, like it’s wrong for him to accept love when your little clan is torn apart. With your ad’ika gone and your lives in shambles, Din slowly returns to the one stability he knows all too well: roughness.

Rough bounties, rough words, rough hands.

Reuniting with his old persona as the big, bad bounty hunter, he finds shallow solace in insults and the camouflage his beskar provides. It’s what he knows best.

Even sex is rough with Din manhandling you in place as he fucks his frustrations out onto you. Not that you don’t enjoy it, oh no. Not at all. Rough Din hits different, but you're worried about him. He is in a state of perpetual tension, shying away whenever you go for something gentler. It’s hard to miss the way he stiffens whenever you try to adore him with genuine flattery.

It’s then in a rented room on Nevarro that you decide to try something different to make him feel your love. You know he is expecting something kinky when you use your old blindfold to tie his hands to the bedpost. You don’t confirm or deny his assumptions either, opting instead to straddle his head between your thighs, riding his face until he is drenched in your release.

Sliding down his body, you hover over his hips until your pussy is inches away from his throbbing cock. You coo his name like it’s a melody until he looks at you. The room is dim, save for a small lamp in the corner, but to Din, you look like the sun itself, sweat shimmering off your body like the finest silk.

With a coy smile, you ignite his world when you lower your hips until his cock is nestled against your heat. He gasps when he feels your pussy pulsing against his shaft, desire ripping through his veins as his nerves crackle in pleasure.

Din’s hands twitch against the restraining cloth that keeps him mounted to the bedpost. He could easily break through the flimsy material, you both know that. All it takes is a flick of his wrists for the fabric to tear before he does the same to you.

But he doesn’t.

He stays put, watching as you gyrate against him.

The restraints were figurative, anyway, something you wanted to try and he was more than happy to oblige if it meant seeing you in such a salacious position. So luxurious, so spoiled with your head thrown back as you use his body for your pleasure.

Tugging on your nipples, you pant out, “Stars, I love your cock.”

You start small with your praise, a simple comment he’s heard countless of times before. Something to add that extra spark to your rocking hips, but not enough to scare him.

You don’t expect him to respond, and your guess is correct. Din groans in response, letting the comment roll off of him without a second thought. Your mouth is open in an ‘o’ and all he can imagine is shoving his cock down your throat.

“Yeah? My pretty baby wants her pussy stuffed?”

A low gasp escapes you when Din’s thighs twitch under you, the sudden movement causing the head of his cock to catch against your clit.

Biting your lip, you nod, “I love your body. You’re so big, so strong.”

Now that gets a reaction out of him. His brain stutters for a moment as every part of him pauses. His body stiffens under you, but doesn’t reply.

Din tries to reason with himself as each drag of your hips propels him farther in arousal. You don’t know what you’re saying. He doesn’t even know if you really did say…that. Your pussy is throbbing so hard against him he wonders if this is actually a wet dream. Probably best to just avoid it all together.

Yeah, just don’t say anything.

But then you lower yourself until your hard nipples are pressing into his scarred chest. Nuzzling your face over his heart, words continue to spill from your mouth, “I love your scars. I know you hate them, but I adore them. They mean you fought and survived.”

Without his helmet, Din is an open book. You see it when he averts his eyes to the ceiling, his tan skin flushing to a rosy brown. You could practically hear his mind puttering, the gears working overtime, to rationalize your words as if they were some riddle.

Because why else would his riduur see anything but adoration and love for him? Right?

Before he can fall further into his unease, your finger tips rub light circles around his nipples as you pucker your lips to assemble a line of kisses. Starting at his sternum you kiss up his neck, over his Adam’s apple, and stopping to lick up your cum that soaks his chin.

Din wilts from your touch. Your skin is so soft, your kisses so delicate, he whimpers as he feel your hands move to cradle his head. He just wants to feel you, run his rough hands against your silk skin, revel in your softness and forget about the nonsense spewing from your mouth. The bedpost squeaks as he tugs against the cloth.

Feeling your thumb resting at the corner of his mouth, he turns until he places a kiss against the finger pad, as if trying to push away his uneasiness.

Feeling your breath on the shell of his ear, you confess quietly, “You’re so much stronger than you think and you amaze me, Din.”

Embarrassment and confusion blend together until they form a strangled protest in his chest, working its way up his throat. He should be the one praising you, not you praising him.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks, pushing his face into your hand in an attempt to hide the blooming red tint on his cheeks.

“Doing what?” Your hips continue to rock in a steady pace.

“The compliments.” He voice grits out like it’s dragging across sandpaper.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He lets out a breath, “I…” He stops, not answering the question.

Din shies away from the praise instinctively, having trouble reconciling his self-esteem with the way the remarks make his cock twitch. He feels warm and tingly, draped under a pleasant haze of affection, but a voice in the back of his head is telling him he doesn’t deserve it.

But he wants to. He wants to so fucking bad. After everything that has happened, he wants to feel okay. He wants to hear words of affirmation from one of the only beings in this forsaken galaxy that matters.

You.

He wants to hear your voice, even if he isn’t ready to admit it. So, he shuts his eyes, his hips involuntarily twitching as you continue to grind against him. You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

Weaving your hands in his hair, you tug on the curly brown mess at the nape of his neck. You bury your nose against his neck, inhaling his comforting blend of musk, soap, and metal.

“I love your smell.”

Your tongue drags along the protruding vein on his neck, following it down to the dip between his neck and shoulder.

“And the way you taste.”

Din calls out your name in an attempt to fight off the warmth of your words, but his throat betrays him, constricting to keep his protests down.

“And, stars, the sounds you make,” You moan, sucking tiny bruises into his flesh. “Those little whines when you come. I think about those when you’re gone.”

You lift your head so your lips ghost over his. You’re so close and your words are making his stomach churn as blood rushes to his weeping member.

There’s something in the way you keep grinding against him paired with your sweet words that reminds him of his better self. The one that traveled all across the galaxy, risked his life, all to reunite a little, green boy with his people. He wants to drink your words like a strong wine and enjoy feeling of intoxication.

He lifts his head up to attempt to kiss you, but you sit you up before he can. With your hands letting go of his hair, Din trashes his head to the side at the miss. You don’t miss the way his tenses in anticipation.

“Cyare,” He insists, rosy cheeks turning bright red.

“My strong and beautiful riduur.”

“Okay, stop.” Din pants, arms pushing forward to break free.

You don’t miss the sound of breaking threads and you shove his chest with enough force to push him back into the mattress.

“No,” You growl, eyes narrowing at him.

Eyes widening in disbelief, he chokes out, “Fucking tease.”

“I just can’t enough of you.” You move your arms behind you, hands holding onto his thick thighs as you arch your back and rut faster against him.

“But you know what’s my favorite?”

You don’t wait for an answer, you weren’t expecting one. You just keep rocking against him, coating him in your wetness until he’s soaked, your juices dripping down to his balls.

“When you cum inside me. I love it when you drip from me. Stars — feeling your seed filling me, I feel so close to you.”

“Stop,” Hr grunts your name. “Just, f-fuck—S-stop. Before I cum.”

Din hisses for the split second that cool air hits his cock before it’s enveloped again in warmth. Smirking down at him, you hold him tightly in your hand as you lower yourself down, wincing at the familiar stretch as he fills you.

Finally feeling your pulsing cunt consume him, Din lets out a surprise grunt, his hips jumping up, and you have to give him a second to get under control.

“Fuck, cyare,” He whispers, struggling not to melt back into the bed as you grip him like a silk glove, your inner muscles flexing around his intruding length.

Not wasting a second, you start swaying immediately. You’re both too desperate to go slow anymore, you’ve been at this for ages now. Din leans his head back, tilting his chin to take in the breathtaking sight of you, blissed out and lost in the growing pleasure between your legs. Your body rolls with your movements as you bounce on his cock, your breasts jiggling from the force of your hips. Din can’t help but moan at the thought that his tattered body could bring you so much bliss.

Din is close to his own release, his orgasm carrying him along the edge of climax. And then you start up again with saccharine words.

“Feel how wet I am, Din?”

“That’s all you, riduur. Only you can do that.”

Cracking your eyes open, you look down to see Din’s skin colored red in embarrassment. He can only nod, eyes screwing shut as he tries to gain control of himself. He is so close after being teased for so long. He jerks his hips upward, impatient.

You want to whisper more praise at him. You don’t want to stop until he feels your love, but for now you stop. Din is still hiding, breathing heavily as his hips move in involuntary motions, hard cock throbbing desperately inside of you.

Leaning down to nip at his ear, you listen to his breath shake, as you bounce on his lap. His cock is easily sliding in and out of you from how wet you are. You’re soaked.

“Din,” You call, kissing the side of his mouth. “D—Din. Look at me.”

He groans, but follows your request. His pupils are blown out from need and a haze of conflict clouds his brown irises. For all the teasing and mixed emotions your words bring him, he craves them.

He craves you.

Your loving eyes, your soft whispers, the purple patches you paint on his neck — they’re the things that show him he is in your thoughts. He watches your eyes as you look at him like he has the stars in his hands. You are just as consumed in him as he is of you. If he captivates you, then he will happily be your captive.

In that moment, all he wants is to touch you. Add a physical stability to your words. He wants to roll between the vowels, let the words sear into his skin like another one of his scars.

“What is it, Din?”

He shudders, pushing his chest up against yours, desperate for the skin to skin contact. “I—I want…Keep talking, but just let me — L-Let me touch you.”

Nodding, you move to the bedpost, but Din is faster. He pushes forward, tearing your old blindfold to shreds while pushing his upper half up until he is sitting up. His hands hold your back to steady you from the sudden movement and to keep you still impaled on his cock.

With you cradled in his arms, his lips crash down to yours. It’s messy, but steeped in a passion that ignites the purest and most vulnerable versions of yourselves. It’s between your moving tongues that there is a promise of realness that Din embraces, allowing your affirmations to crack his defenses.

Pulling away, he sees love in your eyes, and when you speak, he welcomes the burning on his cheeks, rolling around in honeyed words.

“I love you. You’re so strong, so beautiful.”

You sit up straighter, bouncing in Din’s lap. You dig your heels into the bedspread to gain momentum, but you had been at this for an hour, riding his thigh, tying him up, and your movements get jerky and unsteady as the sensation grows more pleasurable.

“I love you, too,” Din gasps, dropping his head until he is hunched into you. You’re wrapped around him, his protective cocoon, as his breath tattoos Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum into your skin.

“D—Din! Oh, stars,” You babble into his hair. “So close…”

He growls at the announcement, pulling away from you as he propels himself forward to push you into the bed. You’re now under him, your legs instinctively locked around his waist.

You’re right where he wants you. You’ve had your fun, now it’s his turn. Holding himself up, he slams back inside your tight pussy.

You cry out, your body seizing and shaking and you struggle to keep your eyes open so you can watch Din’s reaction.

His lips are bruised and red, hanging open on sounds of pleasures and ragged inhales. His eyelashes fan out over his flushed cheeks and his hair is slick and mussed on the top of his head.

“F—Fuck, how did I deserve this?” Din cracks, watching you trapped under him. He’s driving his hips against yours, your body thrusting up from the force of his snapping hips. He may be the one on top, but you are in control. With your little whines and adoring eyes, you’re squeezing his heart and setting his lungs is on fire.

Chanting his name like a prayer, he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent as he loses control. There is no rhythm and rhyme to it, he just fucks you deeper and harder. It’s too easy for him to lose himself to you, in you.

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes screwing shut as he feels his length enter you, going deeper with each thrust.

“You’re lovely. Love you so much,” You tell him and Din sobs, clutching at you tighter to him.

“Riduur, my riduur.”

Your heart skips. Not from his words, but the way his voice shakes with the first vowel before entirely shattering my the end. It’s the little whines that escape him as he fucks you harder into the mattress, his need for you spilling into something so powerful he can’t help but moan.

As Din’s movements become more frantic, you lodge a hand between your bodies and find your clit, rubbing sloppy circles until you moan. The growing arousal ignites your core, ripping through your body as your walls clench around him. Your muscles shake as the wetness between your legs pools, splashing against Din’s groin as you ride out your peak.

“G-good girl, milk my cock,” Din whispers, chasing his own release.

His own orgasm takes him by surprise. He can feeling it building, but he doesn’t expect it when his balls draw up and his cock throbs, hot liquid spilling inside of you.

It’s intense — more intense than it has any right to be.

Moaning, he paints your walls white. He continues thrusting through his orgasm, a meager attempt to push his seed deeper inside of you. Maybe even deep enough to reach your womb…

You move against each other, involuntary, shallow shivers as your orgasms drag out, pulling pleasure from ever nerve inside of you.

“You’re beautiful.” You say, swallowing precarious gulps of air.

You drop your legs from his waist, releasing at least part of him from your hold. But he doesn’t move, staying lodged between you as he softens.

Din lets out a dry chuckle, “You’re going to have to wait for round two.”

“I mean it, Din,” You say so much conviction, he is unsure of what to say.

He leans towards you, pressing his lips against yours in soft kiss. You smile gently at the connection and lay back, pulling Din to follow you as he remains inside of you. He lays his head against your chest, letting your erratic heartbeat lull him in a peaceful state.

He whispers, “I know.”

mando’a translations

Riduur - spouse, partner, husband, wife

Ad’ika - little one, son or daughter at any age

Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - I love you (literally, “I know you forever.”)

Cyare - beloved

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