#and honestly it works even without the context he's just like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rashomonss · 1 year

Text

MC and the brothers

context: cute little headcanons i have about MC and the demon brothers

a/n: also what?? rashomonss isn’t posting angst?? jk jk i promise I’m not up to anything so enjoy some fluff

my love for you transcends time

When you and the brothers are out and about on the street weather you all are going out to dinner, doing some shopping, or even just hanging out the brothers will all walk in a circle around you unconsciously.

The two leading the MC circle are both Lucifer and Mammon (since I believe they have longer strides than the others when they walk).

Behind them are Satan and Asmo who will always walk to the side of you, and then Levi will always walk at an angle behind you and them this works best for him since he can hide behind you and his brothers if he gets annoyed with other people.

Lastly in the back of the MC circle are the twins. Belphie doesn’t have that long of a stride so he’s a slow walker and Beel will always match whatever pace his twin walks unconsciously.

So they are always at the back because if anything they can just tap you to get your attention and you’ll slow down to walk with them. However the MC circle happens all the time when they are all with you.

It scares a few lower level demons at times because here are the seven rulers of hell all walking around and talking, but there you are in the middle, barely able to be seen over them but still laughing and talking with them.

If you’re out to eat for dinner you all have certain seats. The brothers of course have their own seating arrangements when they go out to eat, but when you came into the picture they all changed seats.

So without fail you all will always sit a certain way at restaurants and such. This can differ depending on their moods and the day.

You tend to carry around seven different types of things whenever you buy something. It could be a snack or a drink you picked up from the RAD cafeteria, but without fail there will always be seven different flavors of it in your hands.

Because once you buy something for one brother you think about the others and feel the need to get them something too, otherwise you’ll have to make a trip back with them to get what they wanted. So to save yourself the trouble you usually just get each of them something.

Each of them like to latch onto you whenever they walk you to whichever class you have at RAD. They will each find their own way to do that.

Lucifer prefers holding your hand, or at rare moments linking arms.

Mammon’s go to is intertwining your fingers as you drag him along to your next class.

Levi likes to latch onto you from behind when he attends in person.

Satan prefers when you hold onto his arm then hold his hand.

And Asmo definitely wants you all over him, except he’s always all over you.

Beel’s simple, holding hands is more than enough for him, honestly the fact that you’re alone with him just makes him happy.

Belphie can differ depending on the day. If he’s exceptionally tired then linking arms is your go to since you spend your time dragging him along, however if he’s not that tired then he prefers to lean on you and hold your hand as you walk.

Don’t mind the stares from the lower level demons, the brothers gaze is enough to scare them off.

You all have a set system for ordering at a restaurant. Lucifer goes first of course, thus giving everyone time to remember their order.

Then Mammon follows, after Mammon you’ll order, however if you don’t feel like ordering for yourself then Mammon will always order for you.

Next is Satan then Asmo, followed by Levi and Belphie.

Lastly is Beel since he always has the biggest order.

You usually end up feeling bad for the waiter because after Beel’s order they always seem confused.

You all have designated seats also on the couch during movie nights.

Of course you’re in the middle it’s better this way so the brothers don’t end up fighting over you.

Next to you on one side is usually Mammon or Lucifer, on your other side will be Asmo and Satan.

Levi and the twins prefer the floor since it’s less crowded. Levi will lay his head on one of your legs while Beel will rest his head on the other. Belphie will then lay across the two using them as pillows. They all like to cuddle in this position as well if it’s later into the night.

Each brother leaves something important of his in your room. This gives them a reason to go visit you in case they need it.

Of course Mammon leaves almost a spare of everything in your room since he sometimes treats it like his own.

Levi leaves a few games and manga in your room so he has something to do if he wants to destress in your room.

Beel of course leaves snacks, however when you did explain to him about not wanting crumbs all over your floor he got into the habit of leaving his favorite jacket in your room. Often times when he remembers to go get it he finds you wearing it and smiles soon deciding he can just pick it up later.

Asmo leaves his beauty products and makeup in your private bathroom. When asked why he doesn’t take it back to his room he gave you somelame excuse about not wanting to carry all of it back.

Satan likes to leave his unfinished books along with his favorite book marks just so he can tell you about them when he visits your room.

Belphie leaves his pillow in your room, specifically on your bed. It sometimes freaks you out when you walk into your room and just see a body in your bed. However after further examination you find it’s just Belphie passed out like usual.

Lucifer doesn’t leave anything in your room, he’s to tidy for that. Is what he wants to believe. He often leaves some of his favorite pens or some unfinished documents on your table in hopes of seeing you again. Of course he’s always welcome in your room but, you soon begin to worry though when piles of paperwork find themselves resting on your table.

You carry seven different keychains on your bag. Each of them gave you one in hopes you would show it off, and when you put in on your bag they were ecstatic.

Lucifer got you a cute mini album keychain with your favorite song on it. Like the show off he is the songs title was engraved into it.

Of course you have the matching keychain with Mammon you both got from the human realm, however he wanted to get you one that was just from him. So he got you both heart keychains. Together they form a heart but when taken apart they’re two separate pieces. He hopes you don’t think it’s too cheesy.

A ruri chan keychain would surely suffice for you, however you both already have a ton of matching ones, so Levi decided to take a different approach. He spent awhile on it but he made you your very own keychain of Henry! Upon closer inspection the little goldfish keychain was so well crafted it surprised you. He almost cried when you said you loved it.

Satan knew exactly which keychain to pick out for you. It was a cute black cat with little red horns and a tail. When he presented it to you he huffed a bit when you said it looked like him. Still he was glad you liked it.

Asmo went all out and made a beaded keychain for you. It was pink and had little sliver hearts at the bottom. Did it take him long? Yes. But did you need to know that? No. He’s just glad you thought it was beautiful, but you should know that he’s still prettier than his creation.

Beel’s keychain was simple, but rather cute when he gave it to you. He gave you a little hamburger keychain he saw at one of his favorite restaurants. The second he saw it he thought of you. Since his favorite food is hamburgers he hopes that it’ll remind you of him. But he also hopes that you don’t try to eat it like he almost did.

Belphie will give you a keychain of his favorite constellation in the Devildom. It’s a little smaller than the others but he took the time to find it and picked it out just for you. He hopes you’ll enjoy looking at it just as much as he does. And a part of him can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face when you recognize the constellation.

Once all keychains are on your bag you do become rather loud due to all the keychains jingling.

The brothers all keep little notes from you. Whether they be notes passed in class or even sticky notes of encouragement you left in their rooms.

Each brothers has their own place they keep notes from you.

Lucifer keeps your notes in his office in a locked drawer. He would rather die than admit it but when he’s exhausted he likes looking at them for a little pick me up.

Mammon leaves them in a tiny box under his bed. Because when he finds himself thinking about you he rereads them and smiles.

Levi usually gets sticky notes from you so they all hang on his wall over his gaming monitors. At times he forgets they’re there so he always get nice little words of encouragement when he looks up.

Satan keeps them all over his room, he sometimes even uses them as bookmarks if he really needs to. It’s messy yes but if you asked him where each one was he could definitely tell you.

Asmo keeps all your cute sticky notes on the border of the mirror on his large vanity. It makes him happy to see your sweet notes to him with little hearts as he gets ready in the morning.

Beel leaves your notes on his nightstand. They pile up but never get dirty. He takes extra care to make sure he doesn’t get crumbs or grease on them when he eats in his room.

Belphie leaves them in the attic. Often times when he’s tired he likes to go there to sleep so he likes to be greeted with the sticky notes you gave him as they hang all over the walls. Sometimes they’re not just notes they’re also little doodles of the stars, you and him, his brothers, or anything. His favorite is your stick figure drawing of you, him, and Beel.

The brothers let you draw on them. It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or not, all the little doodles on their hands are something they find cute.

The only ones that have been called out for the doodles however have been Lucifer, Beel, and Mammon.

One afternoon while Lucifer was having tea with Diavolo in the council room he decided to take off his gloves. Due to the rare occasion Diavolo took a peek at his hand since something blue caught his eyes. After he pointed it out Lucifer immediately became embarrassed exclaiming that he didn’t draw on himself, you did. Diavolo finds his reaction quite funny and tells you about it later.

Beel was getting ready for fangol practice when one of his teammates brought up all the writing on his arm. He shrugged it off simply saying that you drew it. After practice though he was a bit disappointed his sweat made is disappear.

Lastly Mammon thew a hissy fit at his modeling gig because they wiped off all the ink you had drawn. Specifically the “i love you” you had written on his arm. They explained how it was better for the shoot without it on him which kinda pissed him off. However you found it cute when he told you so you drew on his arm again.

A day will not go by without all seven of them being in your room together for at least an hour.

The first ones to stop in would be Mammon and Levi exclaiming that there was a new series that was becoming popular in the human realm that all of you should watch. With that being said Mammon mentions the fact you all need snacks so he leaves to go get some.

As Levi is setting up the series Mammon comes back with a mountain of food and drinks. However behind that mountain is Beel asking if this was enough for everyone. At your response of “that’s plenty” he then leaves to go get his twin.

As Mammon sorts through the food on you table and Levi continues to get the series ready you set up your bed waiting for the inevitable.

A minute or two later Satan walks in claiming he has to tell you something. But when he sees the other two he stops and decides to take a seat next to you on your bed. Mammon then yells at him for being to close to you.

At the sound of yelling Asmo bursts through the door screaming at the two of them to shut up. But once he registers what’s going on he runs in and sits on your other side. Causing Mammon to yell at him to.

You roll your eyes, laughing as they all argue. However they then start to get loud and Levi ends up getting hit with a pillow in the process. Upset at this now, he threatens to summon Lotan which somehow summons Lucifer instead, causing him to yell at Levi.

You tell Lucifer to then join you all and after some bribery he finally does.

So then Asmo moves next to Satan and Lucifer then sits next to you on your bed.

Mammon then sits next to Lucifer right as the twins walk in. Beel sits on the floor and surrounds himself with food while Belphie uses everyone as his own personal pillow.

Sighing Lucifer covers the youngest with his coat.

Finally finished Levi starts the show and sits next to Asmo.

You laugh quietly to yourself as your demons spend the next few hours in your room.

Honestly what would they do without you?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #omswd x reader #obey me mc

3K notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 30 days

Text

Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 3

hockey au part 3: a walk in near the park, a surprising team photo, and the semester comes to a close. 6.2k words

warnings: mentions of sports injury, mentions of bullying, alcohol, academic stress, final exams

Oscar has spent a lot of his life on the move. He moved to the US from Australia for high school at a pretty young age, just to try and play hockey. Looking back, it sounds crazy. What’s even crazier is that it actually worked. He’d play for club teams and in leagues and travel absolutely anywhere if it gave him time on the ice. And then he ended up on a college team and stayed put for two years, and honestly, it felt strange.

Over that time, he got good at putting things in boxes. Keeping life organized. Not so much in a sense of clutter and things having a place- his room is a mess, there’s laundry to be done, and his hockey locker is a disaster- but more so in his head. His friendships and relationships get categorized, information filed away, grouped together. Not by importance or value, but by… context. Hockey friends in one box. Family in another. People like coaches and managers and executives in a third. Moving somewhere new always shakes the boxes up.

By late November, though, Oscar’s feeling a little bit more comfortable in his own skin. He’s found his place in the team, he has weekly lunches with teammates, and he’s even made some friends outside of hockey. His old coach, Mark, says that’s a big piece of it. That it’s good to have something other than sport, just in case it all falls apart, or it doesn’t work out. People to fall back on who aren’t just there for hockey.

Oscar wants to say that his teammates would still be friends with him even if he stopped playing, for some reason, but the truth is that he’s been burned by other overly ambitious hockey kids way too often to truly believe it. That’s half the reason he’s on the Timberwolves now, why he left his old school and team behind. Things feel better here. Lando has an old friend who used to play hockey who still hangs around the house sometimes- Max, the other Max. (Oscar doesn’t call him that to his face.) So maybe Lando at least wouldn’t ditch him if he quit.

And then there’s you, too. Oscar’s not quite sure when you went from being an enigma he struggled to place into one of his carefully organized boxes in his head to, well, this.

You’re sitting across from him at the dining table in his house, one finger tracing the words in the textbook in front of you. You have a TimTam in your other hand-you seem to have developed a fondness for them, the same way that Oscar seems to have developed a fondness for you. The late afternoon sun is shining into the room through the sliding glass door and onto you. Oscar shakes his head to try to clear it.

As he does, you groan and drop your face into the textbook with a solid thud- he winces. “I hate physics.”

He holds back a laugh, because he knows you genuinely are frustrated. “Does slamming your face on the words help?”

You shrug. “Maybe, if I just sit here like this, the knowledge will seep into my brain.”

He hums. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Right, because you know everything,” you mumble. “Genius man.”

He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “Come on. Time for a break.”

“I don’t need a break, I need to learn…” you sigh and turn your head, pressing your cheek to the book and looking at him with one eye. “What are we studying again?”

Oscar fixes you with a disapproving look and heads towards the front door. He knows you’ll follow. By the time he makes it to the entryway, you’re hot on his heels, watching curiously as he pulls his shoes on.

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“We’re going on a walk,” he says. “Brain break.”

You shrug and nod, reaching for your own shoes as he pulls on a jacket. He tries not to laugh as you struggle to pull them on without untying them. You’re always stubborn like that, it seems. It’s almost painfully endearing. You stand up straight once you have the shoes on and look at him expectantly.

“Where’s your jacket?” He asks.

You shrug and shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. Or is it Charles’ hoodie? Oscar swears he’d seen him wearing it just yesterday.

“I didn’t wear one,” you say. Oscar raises his brows, and you roll your eyes. “There’s not even snow on the ground, Piastri.”

“It’s almost December, Bunny” he says flatly, and reaches for another one of his jackets hanging on the hook near the door.

He hands it to you, and stands there, waiting, until you grumble and pull it on. You wear the other guys’ clothing all the time, but he swears you look almost flustered at the offer. Huh. He’s trying desperately to pretend he’s not flustered over it, honestly. Something about you in his clothing makes him blush. He’d felt the same way about the hoodie you’d borrowed at the party.

“You’re just Australian,” you say, nudging your foot against his as if to usher him out the door. “You’re a baby about the cold.”

He doesn’t have much of a comeback to that, so he steps outside, and you follow right along with him. He walks down the steps and takes off down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. You might be right- he’s a bit of a baby when it comes to cold temperatures- but his breath curls into mist in front of his face and yours does the same, so it really is chilly. The sun paints everything golden- the windows on the buildings, the dead leaves that still cling to a couple trees. Your elbow bumps against his as the two of you walk. He tries to ignore the spark that shoots up his spine at the feeling. You're chatting away about something, someone in one of your classes who’s been annoying you lately. He's found he likes to listen to you talk.

When he turns to take the path through the park next to the athletics building, you stop in your tracks. He turns back, figuring you’ve seen something, but you’re just staring into the park, and at the large building behind it. He frowns.

“Everything alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “I just. D’you think maybe we could walk to that cafe near here? I could really go for a chai latte.”

He nods- a drink does sound good. “Yeah, sure. D’you wanna walk through the park on the way? Won’t be much of a detour.”

The park is nice. It’s one of Oscar’s favorite places on campus. There’s grass and trees and a path that winds around the university’s baseball and soccer fields. But you’re staring at it with a much different feeling, if the look on your face tells him anything.

You shake your head. “No, let’s just…”

You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you take off down the sidewalk, heading away from the park. He’s left to follow in your footsteps, suddenly feeling like he really knows nothing about you at all.

…..

When Oscar thinks of home, now, he thinks of this. Not Australia, or the house, or even his family, really. He thinks of a jersey, a stick in his hand, and the scrape of his skates against the ice. Hockey, for all its cheering fans and yelling opponents and background music, is a strangely quiet sport. Maybe he’s just gotten good at blocking out the noise.

They’re warming up on the ice. He has warm up traditions, now, something he hasn’t had with teammates in years- he and Lando slap each other on the shoulders, and he and George always skate a lap together. It’s not anything huge or elaborate, but it means he’s part of the team, and that’s enough.

Max skates up to him, just at the end of warmup. He nudges his shoulder against Oscar’s through the padding. “Good?”

Oscar had a rough week in practice. It was the kind that would’ve had him benched for a month on his last team. Seb’s been nothing but supportive- constructive criticism was offered, sure, but he’s still on the ice today, so he figures that’s a good sign. He nods and turns to Max. His eyes flicker up into the stands. He shouldn’t know this, but he does- your seat is above Max’s head from this angle, up in the second section, front row. You’re wearing a jersey, probably Lando’s number if he had to guess, and sharing popcorn with Alex’s girlfriend, Lily. He smiles.

“Yeah. Good.” He nods.

Max nods in return, then skates away. Oscar follows.

When he scores later, and ties the game one to one, he looks to the same spot in the stands. Lando hits him on the back, hard, a bit too enthusiastic. You’re standing in front of your seat, arms around Lily, yelling, and he grins. He can’t help it. The smile doesn’t drop from his face for the rest of the game. The rink, the ice, and his teammates may feel like home, but the way you cheer for him feels awfully close to it, too.

At the party afterwards, you pour two shots of tequila and hand one to him. He takes it with a smile, grimaces at the taste, and laughs when you cough. He pats you on the back sympathetically, and when you take his hand two seconds later and drag him towards the beer pong table, he follows happily.

…..

December creeps up on Oscar, and with it, so does final exam week. Suddenly, it’s just… there, bearing down on him. He’s not exactly nervous about most of his exams- he’s prepared well, and though he’d never say it out loud, he’s pretty good at testing. But no matter how well he studies or how much he’s paid attention in class, exams still aren’t exactly fun.

He sees you a lot in the week leading up to it. You’re often in the kitchen, eating snacks with Max, or in the living room, quizzing Charles on vocab, or in Lando’s room taking a nap between classes. You’re stressed. He can tell. He does his best to help in any way he can- when he goes to the store, he picks up your favorite snacks and leaves them on the counter. He helps you study for the physics exam. When he finds you asleep on the couch in his living room on Saturday night, he carefully lays a blanket over you and turns off the lamp. He hopes some of it helps, just a little bit.

The next afternoon, Oscar stands in the lobby of the athletic training building. He and Max had headed over for the afternoon to do a workout together, more to get their minds off exams than anything else. Now he’s in the lobby, waiting for his team captain, and he’s staring. Laser focused. He's making a whole lot of connections all at once. The wheels are turning in his brain, and he’s sure if anyone’s watching him, he looks crazy. He jumps when someone slaps a hand against his shoulder. It’s Max.

“Hey,” his team captain says, shaking him slightly. “You look lost.”

Oscar frowns and turns back to the photo in front of him. Women’s Soccer, a team photo, from what would’ve been his freshman year at his previous school. He’d been looking at the photos while he waited- the lobby is lined with them, and some of them are actually pretty funny. Some of the faces in this one are familiar, people he’s seen in the gym off and on. One, however, had caught his eye.

“Is that who I think it is?” He asks, pointing at the left side of the picture in the third row.

When he turns back to Max, his face has changed. The teasing look is gone, replaced by something solemn and hard set. Max nods and tugs at his shoulder.

“Wait,” Oscar says, trying to stay planted while Max tries to drag him away. “But she-“

Max crosses his arms over his chest and studies Oscar, brows furrowed. “I know. It’s not my story to tell, yeah?”

Oscar nods dumbly. Max nods in response. Then he nods his head towards the door, as if he’s directing Oscar to follow him. He does, because he’s not sure what else to do, and he’s not going to get any more information from the photo. He knows what he saw, anyways. You, standing there with the whole team, in uniform, your name listed below the photo with the rest of your teammates.

If there’s one thing the Timberwolves do better than hockey, it’s soccer. The women’s team has been national champions multiple times. A spot on that team isn’t something someone gives up willingly. But you’re not on the team, not anymore. When Lando asked if you wanted to go to the gym with them, you’d replied that you “wouldn’t be caught dead at the athletic training building.” And you’d avoided the athletic park like the plague.

Max turns to him as they walk out of the building, and the confusion must still be evident on his face, because Max swears under his breath in some other language. Oscar’s too lost in thought to even wonder what language it is, exactly.

“Look, just-“ Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Trust me, she’ll talk about it when she wants to.”

“Okay,” Oscar nods. “But, like, is she… okay?”

Max gives him a sad smile. “Yeah.”

Oscar hears the silent part in his head. She is now.

They walk home together in near silence. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He’s sure Max doesn’t, either. When they get to the house, Alex is coming down the front steps, the door still open behind him. Oscar sees your boots in the entryway, your coat hanging on the hook. Alex ruffles his hair as he walks past, and Oscar ducks before he turns to Max.

“Don’t tell her?” He asks, and Max looks sheepish, like that was the exact thing he was about to do. “I mean. If you think she needs to know I saw it, then… sure. But I don’t want her to feel pressured to talk to me about it.”

Max wrinkles his nose and nods. “Okay. For now.”

Oscar nods. They’re in agreement, then. He walks in through the front door and he can hear you and Lando in the kitchen, singing along to whatever song is playing from the speaker. It’s family dinner night. Oscar tries to put the thoughts of you in a soccer team portrait out of his head.

He sits next to you at dinner as you pick at your food. It’s one of your favorite meals, but your appetite seems low. It has him feeling concerned. Max, on your other side, nudges you. Oscar watches the two of you have a quiet conversation and wishes he knew what you were feeling. You finally take a couple bites, and he tries not to show how relieved he is about it.

One by one, everyone wanders off to study and get ready for the week ahead. You stay sitting at the table, though. Oscar clears some plates and comes back to find you, a couple TimTams in hand. You take them with a soft smile.

“You alright?” He asks, quietly.

You nod. “Stressed.”

Oscar nods. “Anything I can do to help?”

You twist your mouth. “Probably not. I should really just go home.”

You don’t make any moves to get up. He sighs and sits down next to you. You drum your fingers on the worn wooden tabletop and set the cookies down next to your plate. You’re chewing on your lower lip, and you close your eyes and let out a breath through your nose.

“It’s like… my brain just won’t stop going,” you say. “Like everything I’ve read is just tumbling around in there and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Objects in motion tend to stay in motion,” Oscar says, and you groan.

“Do not use physics metaphors on me right now,” you say, and when he starts laughing, you dissolve into giggles, too. “Gross.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly when you turn to look at him. “Why don’t I make some tea, and we can put it in travel mugs, and I’ll walk you home?”

A soft smile slips across your face. “That sounds really nice.”

He makes the tea exactly how both of you like it, pours it into the mugs, and ushers you towards the front door. You stop in the living room to say goodbye to Lando, who ruffles your hair, and Max, who holds onto your arm and says something to you, so quietly that you’re the only one who’ll hear it. Then Oscar heads outside, and you follow. It’s slightly dark, and chilly, but you’ve brought a jacket this time. You wrap both hands around the mug as you walk, a habit of yours that Oscar finds awfully endearing. The streetlights glow bright above your heads.

The walk is mostly silent. He reaches the entrance to the park, and on reflex again, he slows and turns to head down the path. You stop in your tracks and let out a pained little noise. Oscar’s stomach rolls. In the distance, the soccer field is lit up bright with floodlights. Something must’ve happened, to keep you from playing. You’d been good enough to be on the team. Something had changed. He turns and takes a step to continue down the sidewalk, but you stay planted there, staring. He pauses, holding his breath. It’s just the two of you, under the streetlamps, feet on the sidewalk.

“I used to play soccer,” you say, quietly, and his pulse jumps.

She’ll tell you when she’s ready. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. You’re still staring out over the park, so he turns to stare, too. He feels you lean your shoulder against his, like you’re looking for support, and he leans into it, just to show he’s there.

“I got signed to play as a senior in high school,” you explain. “And, not to brag, but I was really good. Went through summer training camp and made friends with my teammates and got here and… then I fell just the right way at practice, or the wrong way, I guess,” you say, grimacing. “Fucked up my knee. I had to have surgery, twice, and even then, they pretty much told me I was done. That it would never heal right.”

Oscar’s heart sinks. His chest feels tight. He thinks of you, on the couch in the living room when he woke up feeling off and asked you to go on a run, how you’d said you’d messed up your knee. He thinks of Max and the concerned way he always watches you climb the stairs in the stands at the rink. He thinks of you, younger, like the picture in the athletics building, on the field, in pain. He feels sick to his stomach.

“And my teammates… they didn’t know how to act, I think. They didn’t know how to help, so they just didn’t try. So, suddenly I was no longer a soccer player, and I was alone, and…” you sigh. Oscar turns to face you, and he thinks there are tears in your eyes. “And then I met Lando, and the rest of the team, and the rest is history. But… there are some things that still get to me. The field… it holds a lot of bad memories, you know? And when I’m stressed like this it all comes flooding back.”

He nods. You’re not looking at him, even as he watches a tear roll down your cheek. He wants to reach out and wipe it away, but he wonders if that would be a step too far. He pulls his hands from his pockets. You swipe a hand against your cheeks and clear the tears, and then let your own hands hang at your sides. He takes a steadying breath, steels himself, and links his fingers with yours- casually, lightly, gently holding on. You squeeze his hand in reply- a thank you, he thinks. He does the same in return.

“Did Max tell you why I left my old school?” He asks, quietly.

“No,” you answer, voice low and tentative. “Max doesn’t tell people stuff like that.”

He shrugs, though he supposes that makes sense- he’d refused to tell Oscar what had happened to you. Max seems loyal like that. Oscar rolls a pebble beneath his shoe and listens to your breathing to remind himself you’re still there. He wants you to know this. Wants to share. Wants you to know he understands, at least a little bit.

“I got scouted by them my senior year,” he starts, closing his eyes. Like this, he’s almost right back in it. “And I was really excited. And then I got there and… the guys on the team were awful. I didn’t get any playing time, and they’d all been friends since they were kids, and I felt like such an outsider.” He kicks the pebble down the path lightly. “By the time my sophomore year rolled around, I hated it. I hated hockey. I’d spent my whole life doing nothing but that but I dreaded every practice. I was…”

He huffs. Squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He can feel the hits from his own teammates at practice. Can feel that same empty, lonely feeling sitting at the end of the bench. He can taste the blood in his mouth when he tried to stand up for himself and the team captain shoved him and the coach did nothing.

“It was fucked,” he says. He hates the way his voice wobbles. “So I quit. I walked out. I was done with hockey. I couldn’t even go near the rink for months.”

“But you’re here now,” you say, quietly.

He nods sharply. “I had this old coach- his name’s Mark. Showed up on his doorstep and told him the whole thing. He and Seb used to be teammates. So he got me a tryout. I refused, at first. And then Seb sent Max to come talk to me.”

He remembers that, clear as day, too. Max, bright and smiling, at his dorm room door. He knew who Max was, he had looked up to him for years. Max had walked in, planted himself on the floor in the room, and hadn’t left until Oscar changed his mind.

“I spent the summer training back home. Found my love for it again,” he explains. “But it wasn’t easy. I think I’m still working on it, sometimes.”

You hum next to him. You squeeze his hand again. His breath hitches. Your skin is warm against his. It makes his chest ache. He hadn’t known who he was without his sport. He thinks maybe you know that feeling better than anyone else.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he says into the night air. “And I know you must’ve heard it a billion times, and that I don’t really understand what it’s like to have it taken away like that. But…”

“But you get it,” you say, voice rough around the edges. “The lonely feeling.”

He nods and swallows against the lump in his throat. “And thank you. For making things less lonely here.”

“I’m sorry if I was too much,” you answer.

He just shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so… stuck.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, before you squeeze his hand again. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.”

You knit your fingers with his, properly, and Oscar expects you to start down the sidewalk again. You don’t. Instead, your feet carry you down the path through the park. He understands now, that this place must hold awful memories. Reminders of what was supposed to be, what was taken away. You’re trusting him with this. It sits heavy on his shoulders.

He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions. When you walk past the soccer field, he turns to sneak a glance at your face. There’s sadness in your eyes, but a smile on your lips. There’s a strength, there, too, that he finds starkly beautiful. You hold onto him tightly, and together, you make it through the park, all the way to your apartment.

He leaves you at the door with a quiet goodnight and a promise to see each other the next day for the regular study session. The exam is on Tuesday, so it’ll be his last excuse to spend time with you like that. He walks home in silence, through the park, and tries not to stare at the soccer goal. That night, he dreams of soccer fields and hockey rinks and you.

…..

When Oscar gets home just before your normal study time the next day, there’s music pouring out of the front door before he even opens it. It’s louder once he does. The house seems mostly empty, but someone is either having a very good or very bad day. He wavers in the doorway, wondering if he should call you. He’s still there when you walk in behind him, bumping into his shoulder. He turns to look at you, eyes wide. Yours are even wider.

“I don’t think we can study here,” he says, frowning.

You shake your head. “We can go to my place.”

So he packs up his things into his backpack, avoiding whatever is going on in Charles’ room that has him causing permanent damage to his eardrums. Then the two of you take off down the street, towards your apartment. He slows only slightly at the turn for the park, waiting to see what you’ll do. You turn down the path through the park and loop your arm in his. He looks away in the hopes that you don’t see the smile that creeps across his face.

Your apartment is, honestly, exactly how he’d always pictured it. It’s soft and cozy and colorful. There’s a well loved, overstuffed couch in the living room, a little table in the kitchen, and so much stuff on the walls. Music posters, photos blown up big, and… collages. Some in frames, some tacked up with tape, scattered across the place. Perfect mixtures of magazine cutouts and pieces of paper and he swears he even spots a dried flower on one.

“Wow,” he says, studying the one that hangs over the couch. “These are so cool.”

You’re in the kitchen, grabbing a snack, and you turn over your shoulder. “Oh. Thanks. I made a lot of them when I was injured. I had nothing better to do, yknow?”

He sees a chunk of an x-ray in the corner of the piece, and his heart twists. You walk up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. When he looks at you, you’re smiling softly. He likes that look on your face. He wants to keep it there, and suddenly he dreads studying physics because he knows how stressed you’re going to be.

“We’ll have to make some sometime,” you say, nudging your elbow against his. “There’s a billion hockey magazines in a closet at your house.”

“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s the fun of collages. You don’t have to.”

He settles in on one end of the couch, and you settle into the other. The soft light of the lamp in the living room makes it feel warm, the same way your hand in his had felt the day before. He tries so, so hard to focus on physics. It’s just… he’s in your apartment, and you’re there, knees curled to your chest, brow furrowed in concentration, and… something about this feels so soft.

He clears his throat, opens his textbook, and flips to the review questions. “Alright. Ready?”

The two of you study for hours. Oscar doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point you move closer, so you can look off the same textbook. Physics terms and formulas and theories rattle around in his brain, all wrapped up with thoughts of you. The sun goes down, and the windows to the outside grow dark. He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay right here.

“My brain is full,” you mumble, between a yawn.

You drop your head against his shoulder, and his heart pounds in his chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he knows it. You’re just tired, that’s all.

He nods in agreement. “Mine too. I can go home. We should get a good night’s sleep.”

You nod against his shoulder and then make no move to pull away. “In a minute,” you say. “Your arm is comfy.”

Butterflies- actual, real life butterflies, he swears it- swirl in his stomach. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen you fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder during movie nights, watched you curl up on Max’s bed and take a nap while everyone around you talked. He’s just another friend, another shoulder to lean on. This doesn’t mean anything, and besides, it shouldn’t mean anything, so why is his stomach swirling with butterflies, and why does his face feel hot?

When you finally pull away and help him pack up his things, he hopes you can’t tell how he’s feeling. You walk him to the door and wait for him to put on his shoes and jacket. It’s just so you can lock it behind him, he knows. But then you reach up and smooth the hair from his forehead and laugh, and his chest aches fiercely, and god, he could kiss you- not even really kiss you, just on the forehead or the cheek would do. He says goodnight instead and steps out into the hallway, then makes his feet carry him down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.

He walks past the soccer field and finds himself hoping that maybe you felt it too.

He gets up early the next morning and finds Max in the kitchen with coffee ready to go. He grabs two travel mugs- his, and yours. Max raises an eyebrow as he spreads cream cheese on a bagel. Oscar does the same in response.

“You were out late last night,” Max says, eyeing him.

He doesn’t bother asking how Max knows when he got back. He feels like it’s written plainly all over his face. He can feel the weight of you against his shoulder. Can feel your hand brushing his hair from his face. Can feel how much he wants to lean in. Max must see it.

“I was studying,” he says, carefully.

“With Bunny,” Max suggests, and Oscar nods. “But not here.”

“No, we got here and Charles was blasting music,” Oscar explains. “So we went to her place.”

“He failed an exam,” Max says, face scrunched up. “Well. He assumes he did. You know Charles.”

Oscar nods. Max is staring at him as he pours hot coffee into mugs. He’s not sure what the team captain is looking for, but he hopes he doesn’t find it.

“She told you,” he says, quietly, and Oscar looks up from the mugs, nearly spilling coffee all over.

He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

Max nods and finally turns back to his bagel. “Good.”

That’s that, then. He puts the lids on the coffee, and Max sends him out the door with two bagels- one for him, one for you. He almost feels like he’s passed some sort of test when Max gives him a sharp nod as he turns to leave, but he’s not sure which test it would even be.

He finds you in the lobby before the exam, hands off the coffee and the bagel and tells you he knows you’re going to do well. You smile brightly at him, and he swears it lights up the whole building.

“We’ve got this,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And if we don’t, we’ll retake it together.”

He nods in agreement. The two of you sit on a bench and eat your bagels and drink your coffee. Oscar wishes he could attribute the warmth in his belly to the drink, but he’s pretty sure it has more to do with the way you smile up at him and the weight of your shoulder against his. Either way, it sends him into the exam with a good feeling, and that’s really all he can ask for.

…..

Oscar finds himself feeling sad when the holiday break rolls around this year. It’s a weird feeling. For years, he’s looked forward to December for this reason. The exams are over, he gets time off from school, a chance to go home or have his family visit, and a break from everything. He realizes, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, listening to Lando lugging a suitcase around, that he’s going to miss his friends when they leave for the break. It’s been two years since the last time he called his teammates friends.

He drags himself out of bed and into the hallway, because if Lando’s leaving, he wants to say goodbye. And sure enough, there he is, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and taking an enormous suitcase down the stairs one step at a time. Oscar spots you on the ground floor, watching in amusement, and he waves at you.

“Morning, Oscar,” you call out. “Ready for the break?”

He scrubs a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Yeah.”

You raise your brows. “That was convincing,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your lips.

He bites back a laugh, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having called him out. “It’ll be nice to see my family. Just weird to have everyone gone, yknow?”

Lando, who’s made it down three stairs, turns to look at him. “Aw, he’s gonna miss us!” He coos, and Oscar feels his face go red.

Before he can jump to his own defense or try to come up with something to tease Lando about, you speak up from the bottom of the steps.

“Yeah, and we’re gonna miss him, Lando,” you say, shaking your head. “Jesus. Oscar, would you just shove him and the giant suitcase down the steps?”

Oscar’s trying not to dwell on you saying you’ll miss him, too. It shouldn’t affect him nearly as much as it does right now. It makes his stomach twist. He keeps the smile plastered on his face and forces a laugh, and Lando glares at him as menacingly as Lando can glare at anyone. He brushes off the feeling and grabs the side handle of Lando’s suitcase, then helps him lug it down the stairs. Lando shoots him a smile to replace the glare as they get it to the bottom floor. Then he pats him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair. Oscar winces.

“Bye, Piastri,” he says, grinning. “Have a good break.”

He pulls the giant suitcase towards the front door. You stay standing there, even as Lando steps outside and sighs at the sight of the front steps. Oscar steps off the staircase and lands near you, arms swinging at his sides.

“You’re staying here all break, right?” You ask.

He nods. “My family will be here Monday, though.”

“Nice,” you say, smiling wide. “Well. I bought more TimTams and Vegemite, so they should feel right at home.”

Warmth bubbles up in Oscar’s chest. “Thanks.”

You nod. The two of you stand there for a few seconds, and he wonders if you’re holding your breath, too. You shift back and forth on your feet, and then before he knows it, you’re against his chest, arms around him. He barely has time to hug you back before you pull away, and that’s the only bad part about it. He would hold you forever, if he could, he thinks. And honestly, that’s terrifying.

You pull away, and he hopes you don’t notice how red his cheeks are. “Bye, Oscar,” you say, almost shyly.

“Bye, Bunny,” he says back.

Lando calls your name from the front door, and you scurry off. He sighs. He swears he can still smell your shampoo, and then hates himself for knowing what your shampoo even smells like. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turns back towards the stairs, ready to head back to his room, crawl back into bed, and go back to sleep. He jumps in shock when he finds Alex and George standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Alex,” George says.

“Quite interesting, I’d say,” Alex nods, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Oscar rolls his eyes and takes the stairs two at a time. “You guys are creepy.”

They both just laugh as Oscar pushes past them and into his room. He shuts the door behind him, flops down onto the bed face first, and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears Logan’s car start up- the guy really needs to get the thing fixed, it’s loud as hell, but at least it still runs. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that it’ll only be a few weeks until you’re back in town. Then he wonders when having you around became so important to him. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and goes to sleep.

notes: a lil osc pov!! thank you for reading! check out the winter break blurb, or find part 4 here!

tags: to be added or removed just let me know!! crossed out names were unable to be tagged- if it’s yours, shoot me a message!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofswordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom

488 notes · View notes

stxrrynightskies · 15 days

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘…

✩°｡⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: m. fushiguro x reader

｡° ✮ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: megumi had been feeling under the weather as of the weekend, so you take it upon yourself to take care of him

‧₊˚✩ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: mentions of being sick, megumi being stubborn (and clingy), cuddling, kisses, physical affection, fluff, sick fic, canon universe but does not follow the plot of jjk

ೃ༄ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.2k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this fic is like a part two of my previous megumi fic, but can still be read as a standalone without needing context (check out the request here)

He knew it was a bad idea. Going into the rain for that long without proper protection was sure to lead to some sort of illness, especially since he didn't properly warm up right after he went back inside.

But despite the fact that he was now curled up in bed, and running a god-awful fever, he didn't regret a thing. In fact, he enjoyed every second he spent out in the rain with you. Your bright smile was more than enough to compensate for his now sickly state.

The only downside? He was missing you. When you left in the morning, telling him you needed to go back to your dorm to change for the day and that you would see him in class, he had to restrain himself from reaching out for you to pull you back into bed with him. He knew he was sick before you even left, and he hated it.

Being sick always made Megumi clingy. It would remind him of when he was younger, and Tsumiki would take care of him. She was the only one he would rely on. But ever since she was admitted to the hospital, he was left on his own. Hence why he always tried to err on the side of caution.

Another cough shook his body, reminding him that he was in no state to attend class. He sighed, tossing his phone onto the opposite side of the bed before curling back up under the warmth of his multiple blankets as he drifted off back to sleep. Painfully unaware of the calls he was receiving from you.

“Megs?” You knocked on his door.

After the first twenty minutes of class had gone by and no sign of him, you were worried. Yes, you saw him earlier when you woke up in his arms, and he looked fine, just a little groggy. But you just assumed the tired look in his eyes was from him waking up a few minutes prior. But seeing as his desk was empty, you knew it was something more than that.

“Are you okay? You weren’t in class today.” You sighed. There was no answer. And something told you that he wasn’t going to answer the door.

You were honestly about to give up hope until you heard the lock click and the door crack open just as you were about to leave. Megumi peeked his head out ever so slightly, his eyes softening as they landed on your figure.

“What are you doing here?” He coughed.

“You weren’t in class.”

“I wasn’t feeling like it.”

“But you never skip class.”

You took a good look at your boyfriend in front of you. Disheveled hair, bright red cheeks, tired eyes. Everything pointed to the same thing. He was sick. But knowing Megumi, he wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

He was a stubborn boy. One that didn’t like showing how he felt. But he didn’t have to, because you were always there. You understood him in a way that most people could only imagine. So you could easily tell what was going on.

“You’re sick.” You stated.

“No, I’m not.” He quickly tried to deflect the statement, but the hoarse cough he let out did nothing to help him.

“Yeah right.”

You pushed Megumi into the dorm, letting yourself in. Despite his protests, he didn’t try to force you out. He knew you meant well, after all.

“‘m fine.” The boy continued to insist.

“Just get back into bed.” You shooed him away towards his bed.

Megumi reluctantly laid back down on his bed as you got to work. You already had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t feeling well before you showed up at his door. So you came prepared.

He let out a soft sigh as he felt you place a damp cloth over his forehead. His fever had left him feeling all warm and sluggish throughout the day, and the cloth felt like heaven to him.

With him finally relaxing, you got back to work preparing some soup for him with the groceries you had just bought for him.

He was still being stubborn. Constantly insisting that he didn’t need you to take care of him. “You’ll get sick too,” was his excuse.

“You’re sick because I dragged you out into the rain. The least I can do is take care of you.” You sat beside his bed, a tray of soup on your lap.

“It’s fine.”

The boy wasn’t going to let up, he didn’t want to be a bother to you by having you take care of him because had a measly fever.

“No.” You pushed another spoonful of soup into his mouth. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”

“I don’t want you getting sick too.”

“That’s a shame. Because I’m not leaving.” You place a quick kiss on his temple and continue to hold the spoon out.

When he saw the determined look on your face, Megumi sighed, knowing you were serious. So, he accepted defeat, allowing you to feed him the soup and then eventually, the medicine.

“Now go back to sleep. I’ll leave you alone now.” You grabbed your bag, ready to leave him alone for the night to rest after cleaning up.

But as you were walking away, you felt a warm hand gently grab your wrist. “Stay…” A small whisper was thrown out.

He didn’t want you to leave. Not after your actions brought him so much comfort. It brought back memories of his sister. In a way, you reminded him of her. Your smile, the warm, comfortable feeling you brought him. Except, you had this… this look in your eyes whenever you looked at him. One filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated love.

You dropped your bag down again, letting it slump on the wooden floor as you knelt beside his bed, staring at him.

“Do you need anything else?” You asked.

Megumi shook his head, pulling you closer until you were beside him under the blanket. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your back was pressed up against his chest while he rested his chin on your head.

You were still processing the fact that he was clinging to you, he’d never been so touchy-feely with you — with anyone for that matter. Maybe it was just the fever fogging his brain. Not that you minded.

Even if it meant catching whatever bug he had, you would graciously accept the physical affection you were receiving from your boyfriend.

He looked down at you, smiling a little, as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. You turned to face him better and placed a kiss of your own on his lips. He eagerly returned it, pressing up to you again, keeping his lips locked onto yours.

Once you broke the kiss, he yawned. Being sick was taking a toll on him, not that he cared all that much. Why would he? He had you in his arms. And that was all that mattered.

“I love you…” He croaked.

“I love you too.” You kissed him one more time for good measure. “Now go to sleep.”

“Will you stay?”

“Always.”

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

#✮⋆˙ jade writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you

381 notes · View notes

zutarawasrobbed · 2 months

Text

ALTA Live Action Season 1 Initial Thoughts (Spoilers)

I just finished the season, and holy shit!

Quick things that need to be addressed/debunked:

“Sokka is no longer sexist”

I dont know what people were talking about when they talked about Sokka’s “sexism” being removed. It’s still there! But not in the overly exaggerated comical way it was in the original.

In fact, it’s more in line with ancient practices of indigenous tribes where men are seen as protectors and providers while women are expected to nurture. It’s not the same “boys are better than girls” narrative in the original.

Additionally, Suki still beats the fuck out of Sokka and humbled him really quick. They’re super cute by the way. And I love Suki’s “I like my men a little stupid” vibe. She’s great.

“Aang doesn’t run away like the original!”

That is not true. He does run away, but not because he’s trying to get away from the temple but instead to get some air because he feels overwhelmed. He’s more like taking a quick break and planning to come back. It’s not exactly the same, but almost. It also is done in a way where his guilt feels more justified.

“Katara doesn’t talk about her mom anymore like the original”

This is true… BECAUSE THEY SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL. I was honestly not prepared to see the death Kya in such graphic detail and how Katara was in the room hiding when it happened. It’s honestly really sad and more heartbreaking.

Plot:

The timeline seems to be ambiguous compared to the original series where it was “end of current year.” In fact, they repeat “three years” a few times, which makes me think if the series get greenlit for more seasons, it would be over a three year period.

Jet is still villainized but given more nuance and not a simple "good v bad" way like the original.

Zuko’s story about how he got his scar has additional lore that makes him come across as even more selfless and compassionate. The additional context of the platoon he advocated for in the war meeting, becoming his current crew, really added to the story.

Eradicated the nepotism baby plot point with Pakku only training Katara when he finds out he used to date her grandma. Instead, Katara proves herself and ends up teaching the other male fighters the techniques she learned from watching other benders use their elements and mimics them.

This season doesn’t have Aang learning any waterbending, but rather facing his trauma and the consequences of his actions. He get roasted by all his past lives. Which is an interesting choice, but I think it works well in how they executed it.

This season seems to actually be Katara focused and her journey of learning waterbending which I honestly loved because it really hits home the element of “water” being the story of an untrained waterbender learning her element. But, I do think Aang could’ve learned a little bending. It felt a little off.

Katara ends up advocating for all waterbending women and ends up leading an army of both men and women during the siege. She’s really bad ass and is given the title of master without being formally trained by Pakku. She made herself a master.

I think the timeline is a little wonky because of how much they had to fit in with the limited episodes they had.

Kuruk is given respect! I loved that.

June actually seems into Iroh which I thought was a funny but cool way to flip the script from the original.

The relationship between Zuko and Iroh is really beautifully executed. I love the depth they added with flashback scenes and their bond prior to the Agni Kai. It also wasn’t as frustrating watching Iroh and Zuko’s dynamic because Iroh communicated with Zuko in a way he could understand with straight answers rather than seeming to actively sabotage him with cryptic puns and shenanigans like the original.

They changed the love triangle with Yue Hahn and Sokka to be very healthy. They gave Yue autonomy and a choice in her relationship- which- again- is much more in line with indigenous cultures. Also, Hahn and Sokka’s relationship is really supportive and full of respect and no ill will.

They way they handled grief and the realities of war with the loss of life was very well done and really drove home the point that this is a war and these are child soldiers.

There’s a lot more but these are my initial thoughts. Will probably post more later.

Shipping:

Kataang is all but removed. Literally DOA. There is no indication of a crust on either side. It’s painted like a sibling relationship, which is like the original, but this time everyone seems to be on the same page. But, I swear the writers had to have read ZK fics because damn.

They canonized a popular Zutara theory/hc about the cave of two lovers and how the crystals would light up once it went completely dark instead of a “kiss” activating the crystal glow.

Speaking of the Cave of two lovers. They keep the Oma and Shu story with red and blue coloring. Making it come across more as foreshadowing than a direct link to the present tunnel story.

Sokka is put in Aang’s place with Katara in the tunnels and turned it into a story about the love of family and sibling bonds. Aang wasn’t even present.

Zuko and Katara share a meaningful look when they first see each other and continue to have a Katara centric scene followed by a Zuko centric scene and vice versa.

The scarf scene. I will not be elaborating further. If you know, you know.

Zuko and Katara fight scene in the North is epic. He still taunts her with almost the exact same dialogue but it’s so sassy- I love the banter.

Suki and Sokka were really cute and the actors had great chemistry. I think Yue and Sokka was really rushed and didn’t really feel anything about them, honestly. But I attribute that to lack of episodes to develop all that plot.

#zutara #katara #zuko #atla #atla live action spoilers

484 notes · View notes

bettsfic · 2 years

Text

writing cheats

i know i’ve probably written about these all individually but i’m putting them together in one post. these are writing tricks that are extremely cheap and dirty; when you use them it feels like cheating and honestly by posting them i’m probably exposing all the easy moves in my own work, but more than a writer i am a teacher, so here you go, some writing cheats that have never steered me wrong.

quick character creation

what’s really annoying is when you have two characters sitting at a restaurant or something and the server has to come by. to what degree do you describe the server so that it’s clear they’re just a background character but that they’re not just a faceless form, so that the world has texture without taking up too much space on the page? rule of three, babeyyy: two normal things and a weird one.

she had pale skin and blue eyes but her hair was dyed black like a 2010 emo kid.

he was tall and broad, and he wore a sweatshirt with an embroidered teddy bear on it.

the woman stood there comparing the prices of toilet paper. she had a short angled bob and carried a keychain the length of a trout.

why does it work? it gives the reader something to hang onto, a brief observation that shows the world exists around your narrator. it also works when introducing main characters, but there’s so much action going on that you can’t take time to write a rich long paragraph about them. all you need is a little hook.

quick setting creation

i used to TOIL over descriptive paragraphs. for years i was like, description is my weakness, i must become better at developing imagery. i believed this because a famous writer once projected a paragraph i had written onto a screen and asked my cohort, “count how many images are crafted in this paragraph.” there were none. none! my friends were sitting there like, “we are TRYING” but they couldn’t find any.

i would say that after years of studying imagery development at the sentence level, i am, perhaps, competent at it, but what was more helpful was for me to shrug and tell myself, “i’m just not a writer who does that.”

anyway. my cheat is thus:

there’s not much you can assume about your audience. the audience is not a homogenous whole. but your ideal audience is something you can guess at, and that means you can play around with their existing knowledge and expectations.

if you say your characters are in a tacky shit-on-the-walls restaurant, if your ideal reader is an american who went to restaurants during the maximalist era of franchise design, they will conjure their nearest memory of one of those places. and for those readers who aren’t familiar with it, they’ll use other context clues to conjure that space. the point is, you don’t have to list every single stupid license plate nailed to the wall. you can leave it as one detail of one sentence and let your reader extrapolate from there.

if i say the dentist’s office looked like a gutted 90s taco bell, maybe no ideal audience would have ever seen a place like that, but a lot of people can mentally conjure a dentist’s office and a 90s taco bell and overlay them together to create a weird and fun image.

you can go even simpler than that: a bathroom the size of an airplane lavatory. a tiny studio apartment with a hotplate instead of a stove. a mansion with a winding stairwell. the point is that you want to define the size of the space and its general vibes.

in some ways detailed description can be overrated, because your reader conjures images even in absence of them on the page. and for those readers who can’t mentally conjure images, it doesn’t matter anyway; they take you at your word. the trick is to figure out what details are unexpected, relevant to understanding the story and its characters, and those are the things that you add in.

one other note: after working with hundreds of writers on drafting, for *most* of us it’s difficult to develop images and establish setting in a first draft. it’s nearly always something to be saved for a second or later draft. i think it’s because while we’re writing we tend to put character and action first.

nail the landing

there’s a joke i heard once from a writer i really admire: “you know it’s literary fiction if the story ends with a character looking at a body of water.”

and god it’s so painfully sad and true how easy it is to nail the landing of a given story by ending on a totally irrelevant piece of imagery. the final beat of a story followed by your character looking up at the sky and seeing a flock of birds in the shape of a V flying past. or maybe they’re sitting in their car and they count the rings of a nearby church bell. or maybe they watch an elderly couple walk down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. i don’t know!! when in doubt shove an observation, an image, whatever, something neutral at the end and it’ll sound profound.

(this cheat is the only one that can really bite you in the ass because if the image is too irrelevant you risk tonal incongruity. for use only in the most desperate of times.)

sentence fragments

when writers ask me how to punch up their writing or start developing their own style, my go-to advice is to give up the idea of a complete sentence. fuck noun-verb-object. if you have a series of character actions, knock off the sentence subjects like in script action. if the clause at the end of your sentence is particularly meaningful, don’t separate it with a comma but a period and make it its own thing. if your character is going through something particularly stressful or heinous, that bitch is not thinking in complete thoughts so you don’t have to convey them that way. make punctuation bend to your will!!

rhetorical moves

this one opened a lot of doors for me stylistically. remember that famous writer who called me out on my lack of imagery? i always thought his prose was beautiful, that he’s one of the best living prose writers, etc. once i learned more about rhetoric though, i realized he just employed it a lot.

usually when we talk about beautiful sentences it means a sentence that uses rhetorical devices. the greeks were like, you know what, when we give speeches there are certain ways to phrase things that make the audience go nuts. let’s identify what those things are and give them names so we can use them intentionally and convince people of our opinions.

i love shakespeare, i really do, but one of the big reasons he’s still a household name today and his plays are still performed is because every sentence of every goddamn play utilizes a rhetorical device. the audience is hard-wired to vibrate at the sound and cadence of his writing, like finding the spot on a dog that makes their foot thump. for five hundred years, william shakespeare has been scritching that spot for us.

i have no idea why, cognitively, rhetorical devices are so effective. i’m no rhetorician. all i know is that well-deployed anaphora makes a reader want to throw their panties on stage. my intro to rhetorical devices was the wonderful book the elements of eloquence by mark forsyth, a surprisingly fun read! hopefully that will open some doors for you the way it did for me.

the downside to this is that once you know rhetorical devices, it’s like learning how the sausage is made. on one hand, as a writer, you’ll have a lot stronger grasp of style, but as a reader good prose loses some of its magic.

pacing it out

many writers, myself included, rely on the tried and true “he bit the inside of his cheek” or other some such random action to help pace out dialogue. one time my thesis advisor sat me down and said “you’ve got to take all of those out.”

“all of them?” i said.

“all of them,” she said.

i thought, but that will weaken the text! it didn’t. once i cut what i came to call cheek-biter sentences i never went back. and now when i edit for other people i’m like, look i know where you’re coming from but just cut all these out and see how the scene stands. if it doesn’t feel right you can put some back in. a lot of times when you’re drafting you put those in the way some people say “um.” they’re just sentences you jot while you’re thinking of what the other character says, so from a writing perspective it seems like you’re pacing, but readers don’t read it that way. they just want to get to the next line of dialogue.

but sometimes you really do need to pace out a scene and i think there are other ways to do that that don’t rely on banal physical movements, such as:

interiority: a sentence or paragraph of relevant cognition, bonus points if you weave in background context. good interiority defines the voice of your writing.

observations: i know i just said description is overrated but idk sometimes you just need a character to note the back and forth clacking of one of those desk ball toy things.

character texture: maybe your character notes something about the person they’re talking to. a wilted pocket square. a mole that looks like it needs looked at by a dermatologist. a scar on their forehead. some detail that deepens or complicates our understanding of a character.

narratorial consciousness and access

this one is less a cheat and more a problematic opinion i have that doesn’t win me any popularity in writing circles.

i believe that if you’re writing in first person or close third or any narration which is dedicated to the mind of one character, you are only ever obligated to convey the experience of that character’s consciousness. and nothing else.

by that i mean, if your point of view character is unobservant? then they’re not going to even notice the flight attendant is missing one of their canine teeth. if your pov character is focused and obsessive, they’re going to think lavish, detailed paragraphs about that which they’re obsessed with and have no acknowledgement of the rest of the world. if your pov character has no understanding of time, does your story even need to be linear?

defining the scope of a narrator’s cognition early on can give you parameters in which to work. even if you don’t consciously do this, you still do it. if you write in third person limited present tense without really thinking about it, that’s your scope. i’m just pointing out you can choose to do it differently. you get to define your narrator.

whenever we talk about narration we also talk about information access and the order of information being revealed/conveyed. writing must always be in order; even if you’re writing multiple concurring things, it still has to be rendered on the page in order one after the next, because the human mind can’t read two sentences over top of one another.

if we’re restricted to the mind of a character, that means we’re also restricted by their knowledge and experiences, and this can be used to your benefit. i don’t want to take too much space for this but i do talk more about the relationship between narration and reality here.

in short, you the writer get to choose

what the reader knows,

in what order they know it, and

its relationship to the presumed real events of the story, which develops the (un)reliability of your narrator

okay going to cut this off now before i go on more rants about narrative scope. i hope you found this helpful and go on to put some of these nasty lifehacks in your own writing!!

#writing advice

7K notes · View notes

suffersinfandom · 5 months

Text

Controversial opinion (?): the Kraken Era wasn’t all that dark.

There’s a whole lot of meta and fic out there that portray early season two Ed as a bloodthirsty, hyperviolent monster, and when that portrayal is challenged, the rebuttal is usually along the lines of, “I’m just doing what canon did. Did you even watch the show?”

I did watch the show, and honestly? I expected Ed to be so much worse than he was! When I see people say they didn’t think Ed did enough to redeem himself or that he went past the point of no return, I just… don’t understand.

I already went into this in my way-too-long meta about Ed and abuse, but I do think it bears repeating (in a shorter post) because it seems like Ed’s actions -- more than the actions of any other character -- are scrutinized and discussed outside of the context of, y’know… a comedy about pirates. There’s tons of casual violence in Our Flag Means Death. Sometimes the violence is even funny!

So what does Ed actually do?

As far as I can remember (I’ve only seen season two a few of times, so correct me if I’ve missed something!), we see Ed directly harm someone twice in the first two episodes: first on the wedding boat, and then when he shoots Izzy in the leg. Kind of unimpressive numbers, yeah? Tbh, I'd expect more out of a heartbroken Blackbeard.

The first instance involves Ed shooting a man during a raid. That man has a sword through his chest before Ed fires, leading me to believe that Ed’s still following his season one pattern of keeping himself a step removed from murder (technically, the sword killed that guy). We also don’t see the murder happen; the man tumbles offscreen before Ed shoots. This makes the action less brutal. If the writers wanted us to be appalled by Ed’s violence, we would’ve gotten a graphic kill (or several).

And the second instance is Izzy. Ed shoots Izzy in the leg after he suggests that the shitty atmosphere is because of Ed’s feelings for Stede. Hot take, maybe, but I don’t think that was entirely out of line -- definitely not for a pirate captain whose first mate is acting out! Ed’s feelings for Stede are not the only problem; a significant chunk of the problem is Izzy. Izzy called in the navy and led to their capture and, more importantly, Izzy bullied Ed back into the Blackbeard persona. This is what Izzy said he wanted.

We’re also told that Ed has taken more of Izzy’s toes between seasons. This isn’t cool -- bosses definitely shouldn’t be asking for their employees’ toes -- but there is a precedent for it: in season one, Ed told Stede that he used to feed people their toes for a laugh (yuck). For a laugh. This, to me, implies that it’s not a huge deal. It’s certainly not completely unexpected pirate behavior, and it seems more lenient than, like, a keelhauling or a whipping. I think both of those things would've felt way more gruesome and dark.

As far as violent actions go, that’s not a lot. Like, numerically.

Things get darker in S2E2 when Ed becomes increasingly desperate for someone, anyone, to send him to doggy heaven. He’s unhinged and working his way up to a murder-suicide before he’s stopped, but he doesn’t lay a hand on anyone. He orders Archie and Jim to fight to the death. He ignores anonymous crewmembers as they’re swept overboard in the storm. This is bad! It’s self-destructive and selfish! But violent? Monstrous? I don’t really think so.

In my opinion, the worst thing Ed does is force his crew to do violence for him -- not because it’s violence (again, they’re pirates), but because the violence hurts them. THIS is what traumatizes them! Their trauma flashbacks are scenes of them hurting others, not of Ed hurting them directly. Ed didn’t physically torture his crew (with the exception of Izzy, and that’s complicated). His crime was driving them to do one violent raid after another, killing and plundering without any joy or theatrics. Ed feels trapped in the role of Blackbeard -- the role that he’s been desperate to escape -- and, in his heartbreak, he opts to trap his crew with him.

Yeah, Ed is messed up in the first two episodes of season two. I don’t blame the crew for almost killing him; it’s what needed to be done. I think that Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang had every right to want Ed gone after Stede’s return.

But I don’t think that Ed was a super violent monster who tortured his crew and murdered his way through his breakup. He engages in very little onscreen violence, and the person that most of his violence is focused on -- Izzy -- is the same person who told him to be violent. I think that anyone who says that Ed’s actions in the first part of season two are extremely dark is either looking at them out of context, misremembering what actually happened and just recalling the dark tone, or working with some kind of motive.

In conclusion: Ed is a man who, at his very darkest, was still operating pretty firmly within the bounds of "stuff pirates do" (but not stuff Ed has historically done, presumably).

Also look at him. Thank you.

GIF by unearthlydust

#ofmd #ofmd meta #edward teach #me typing things #idk i just keep seeing this thing?#this 'ed is irredeemable to me personally' thing #and that's fine?#hate characters if you want to?#but i don't think the kraken is all that evil #i mean i guess ed disagrees #hence the guilt and agreeing to humiliation and apologies #my poor mentally ill blorbo

428 notes · View notes

vaguely-concerned · 1 month

Text

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.) This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that.

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them.

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly.

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much.

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.)

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

#garashir #elim garak #julian bashir #star trek ds9 #ds9 #star trek #ds9 meta #S2EP22 The Wire #alternate title: baby's first brush with unconditional love through unreliable narration lol #I'm not sure I got to say everything I want to in this/found the exact right words in places or hit all the nuances #but god help me I so desperately need this out of my brain to free up some disc space so go forth little meta haha be free #I'm sure I'll come back to you in time #meta #enabran tain #(derogatory)

335 notes · View notes

ddyberzatto · 7 months

Text

just the two of us.

Strictly 18+. Super sweet but also pretty explicit smut. Not a ton of context, mostly steam. Very passionate vanilla. This is Carmy truly in love. I love this dynamic tbh.

⋆ ୨❀୧ ⋆

It can be hard to tell if he’s anxious or if something has happened, but you know not to push. He’s been like this again. Withdrawn, distant, his mind anywhere but with you. It’s all new to you, being there for each other like this, but you’ve learned how to look after each other just by doing the little things. You cook a meal for him - nothing fancy. You’re always a little self-conscious cooking for him, but he is always appreciative. And you know he needs you right now.

“I’m worried about you, Carmy.” You say once dinner is finished.

You weren’t sure how to approach it, or when. Here, in his apartment, in his living room, seems like the easiest place. In truth, it’s been hard to see him at all and going to his restaurant felt off-limits to you, at least whilst he was like this.

“I know, I–” He pauses, unsure what to say.

“I’m not trying to force anything. I just want you to know I’m here. I just don’t know if there’s anything I can do, or–”

He extends his hand to yours and pulls you onto his lap when you grasp it.

“You are honestly the best thing going on in my life right now.” He runs his hand through your hair. “Just— just don’t go anywhere. Stay, even if I fuck up.”

“How would you fuck up?” Your voice rises with concern.

“I don’t know, I just… I always do. I’ve pushed so many people away, I fucked every good thing up. Now you’re the good thing and I can feel you slipping away from me already and—“

He sounds panicked.

“I’m not. I promise I’m not.” You touch his cheek gently then place his hand on your chest.

It doesn’t take long before your breathing is in sync, deep and purposeful. Almost without meaning to, you begin to inch towards each other. He brushes your hair behind your ear and leans to whisper.

“I’m not perfect, I’m often not good enough at all. I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve not been here, I’ve been neglecting you, I’ve been–”

You hush him and grab the hand that’s resting behind your ear then cup your cheek in it.

“I want to be close to you” You murmur.

“Yeah?” He smiles gently.

His first smile today.

“Yeah.”

“How close?” He grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss. He’s gentle and it seems as if he’s holding back. “This close?”

“Closer.” You kiss him back.

With your lips intertwined in a deep kiss, he grabs your hip and leads you softly towards the bedroom. With each step you take towards the door, you feel the burning passion growing between you. Carmen is needy, groaning in your ear and you feel his cock twitching for you in his pants.

He’s worn out from another long day of work, sweaty, and his hair is a mess but you couldn’t care less. You love him like this. You love every version of him but this one, the one whose body is sore from work but still yearning for you, and whose voice is hoarse from shouting but gentle for you, is your version of Carmy. The one you will never have to share with the world.

“You’re so fucking sweet. Here, lay down.” He speaks softly in your ear.

Your body is now rested against the bed’s headrest and Carmy pushes himself between your pushed-up knees to kiss you. He places his hand under your top, his fingers gently grazing over your belly and working their way up towards your breasts.

“I missed you today.” You purr.

“Me too, baby.”

He pulls up your top and starts kissing your bare breasts, eager. As his kisses wander lower and lower, you feel your thighs tingling in excitement.

“Let’s get rid of that.” He says and pulls off your leggings and panties.

The anticipation is now almost unbearable. You feel his fevered breath close to your most intimate parts and his lips grazing ever so lightly. He’s teasing you. You push back his hair, trying to encourage him to continue. He spares you. His tongue glides against your clit, with just the right amount of gentle pressure. The pleasure is overwhelming and you arch your back, only for him to push you back in your place so he can savour you. He moans into you, his tongue still stroking you in a beautiful pattern. Your quiet whimpers turn into desperate moans, which only encourage him. One of his hands is still resting on your hip, holding you in place firmly. The other hand wanders to your opening and he gradually slides two of his fingers inside you. His fingers pushing on you from the inside make the sensations all the stronger and begin to feel the intense build-up.

“I’m almost there Carmy, I–”

He maintains a steady rhythm and the sensation soon becomes too much to bear. Your body fills with pure ecstasy and your moans now sound like filthy cries. You don’t know how many times you said Carmy’s name, how many I love yous slipped in as the pulsing tension of your pussy continued around his fingers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He looks up at you, his hand gently stroking your inner thigh. You’re feeling very sensitive and although he knows your body so well, he doesn’t seem to be able to stop himself any longer. He undoes his belt hastily and quickly places himself at your opening. He’s so hard for you, his tip already soaked in his arousal. His gaze once again meets yours and he looks at you as if seeking permission. You can hardly breathe, let alone speak, so you nod and brace yourself.

His cock works itself into you bit by bit and soon you feel his entire length penetrating you, the tingling pressure filling up all of you. Your belly feels full of butterflies, full of love, full of Carmy. Once again your moans begin to rise, you move your head to the side but he grasps your chin to face him. He wants you to look at him, and only him, as he fucks you.

“Oh, I know, baby. I know.” He murmurs.

The tempo between your bodies speeds up and his movements become more rhythmic. Some strokes are deeper than others, but the deepest ones, when you feel his entire length, never fail to take your breath away.

“You pretty little thing.” His voice is raspy and makes you clench even tighter around him.

He’s eager and almost sloppy as he gets close. As soon as you feel his cock twitching, he quickly lifts you up by your back so that you are sitting on top of him in the lotus position. His manhood is still planted firmly inside you, you can feel every twitch as he fills you up. Nothing can beat that feeling, the closeness of your bodies right against each other as he orgasms inside you. His heavy breath is buried in your hair, in your ear, your neck.

“I love you.” He says in a breathy voice. “I love this.”

Your bodies finally untangle. He rests his back against the bed and lights a cigarette. You lay your head on his lap and he strokes your hair lightly.

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to worry... About messing this up. I won’t let you push me away.”

He exhales, a little shakily.

“I know. It will be different this time.” He says and takes another puff.

You believe him when he says that because everything has been different since you fell in love too. You both used to run but that was back when things never felt quite right. You fall asleep to Carmen’s gentle touches over your neck, shoulders, and back and it feels like home. Everything about this is right.

#carmy x reader #carmy smut #the bear fx #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fan fiction #Jeremy allen white #the bear smut #Carmen Berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #Carmen Berzatto x you #carmy Berzatto imagine

753 notes · View notes

takemebacktowheniwassane · 27 days

Text

i've been seeing a lot of falsettos posts recently deconstructing the fandoms beliefs and firstly

holy fuck thank you, i try to steer clear of fandom (and fandom-izing thereof) drama but this is getting a lot more visible recently so here's some little tidbits for you

whizzer brown is not an unflawed character!

okay so i haven't seen enough dissecting this but!!! in the chess game!

the whole point of marvin using that game to determine the ending of their relationship is because he suspects whizzer is constantly deceiving him and wants to prove it.

whizzer LITERALLY proves him right!

he asks marvin to help him along (yes i know he says he doesn't want help, hear me out, it's a little more complex than that) and takes advantage of the fact that marvin is- like- infatuated with him.

he draws him into a sense of false security then starts throwing accusations at him ("since you need a man!" "what?" "who's 'brainy'," "or witty, move.") until hes able to win, which he does with ease because he's been using marvin having this idea that he isn't smart against him.

of course, marvin's side of this isn't the best either but honestly, for once the fandom should focus on a different character when they think 'insane asshole'. typically we should also probably change our perspectives a little to be more unbiased cuz fr guys, this is getting really.. annoying.

i understand he's the most visibly flawed but that doesn't excuse constantly picking the worst parts of this musical (without other context, btw) to use against him.

and this post certainly isn't here to excuse anyone either i've just got a lot of opinions that i wanted to share while falsettos is.. trending? right?

2. marvin's (headcanoned but still somewhat researched) autism

this one isn't brought up as much but when i do see it around, it's kind of a skewed viewpoint.

while rewatching bits of the proshot i realized a lot of different neurodivergent traits that he shows-

he's helpless during I Never Wanted to Love You and is childish and regressive when he's upset (not every autistic person is like this either, i know this is a bit of a touchy subject so i just wanted to add that).

usually when people depict it i see it either toned down or joked about which is fine when all in good fun, and when its done respectfully.

not here to attack anyone, just here to point it out and say that yes :) he most likely is neurodivergent, but despite that his actions aren't condoned. he's still kinda a dick who needs to get his shit together

3. ..the lesbians also have shit going on?

just putting this out there- I DON'T SEE ENOUGH FOR THE LESBIANS! OR TRINA!

the girls in this musical are like thoroughly neglected and i think that's kind of shitty just assuming the fact that william finn put them in to demonstrate how gender roles put people in degrading positions (and he even makes it more prevalent by showing marvin as something like a misogynistic character who forces whizzer into more feminine roles to show the audience what woman have to/had to go through in society).

anyways, the lesbians aren't just there guys. they have a plotline too. in Something Bad is Happening, you derive a lot from charlotte singing about the outbreak of HIV/AIDS and realize how she operates on a daily basis (she's passionate about her work and takes every bad day as a hit to her life and career, explaining in a way that as a black, jewish, lesbian, FEMALE doctor in this time, everything that goes wrong is immediately brought down on her so much more than it would as any straight white male pharmacist-).

cordelia on the other hand has to handle the fact that her girlfriend is so adamant about her work ethic that she can't actually be super present in their relationship at times like that.

but either way she still sticks by her and is constantly trying to be supportive and endearing despite feeling like she's not amounting to her gf who's basically a hero in her eyes.

i kinda just wanted to bring that up because they mean a lot to me and they don't get enough love from the fanbase, thank you for listening to my TED talk <3

#why did I spend 20 minutes typing this #rant #whizzer brown #falsettos #marvin falsettos #charlotte falsettos #cordelia falsettos #hhhh

212 notes · View notes

bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

Note

How would Vox feel about a reader that has an average sex drive? Like, they like physical intimacy, but not a lot. I feel like Vox is one pent up fella..

Headcanons: Vox with a Reader that has a lower drive than him

(Not explicit, but NSFW topic so minors stay away! <3)

I've actually thought about this quite a bit myself! I mad agree that the dude has some pent-up shit and I think all of us Vox fans agree he likes to vent a lot of that out physically.

I'd like to think that you and Vox would come to a compromise. Rather than fucking often, you fuck with quality. Which honestly, even if you were fucking around the clock, this man has high standards to begin with

If it's been a rough week dealing with work, the Vees, or even Alastor, then you'll find a text from him without any context that just tells you to clear your schedule for the rest of the day.

You won't be coming out of the session without at least half a dozen bite marks and hickeys

You don't fuck as often as he is horny, but when you do it's a pretty intense session. If you end up getting exhausted and tap out, then he'll get much softer and want to just keep fucking into your/his hand while you hold him and give him lots of praise

If you're not in the mood, but he is, he'll ask if you're okay just being near him while he does his thing. Just being around you helps him relax and unwind and whether it's the feeling of you next to him or the smell of your clothes, it adds an extra layer to any stress relief he might seek

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox headcanons

223 notes · View notes

whetstonefires · 2 months

Text

Honestly the most interesting thing about the Jiang interpersonal dynamics that is being totally slept on is how Jiang Fengmian's power as head of the family affects everyone, including him.

Yu Ziyuan knows Jiang Fengmian won't use his power against her unless he feels like he needs to, and that he doesn't fear her and isn't going to feel like he needs to act in self-defense unless she attempts significant physical harm, so short of that she can do whatever she likes against him, and he won't resist.

But if the collateral damage to the kids of her verbal attacks on him goes above a certain level, he says one word and she stops.

He just goes, 'wife.' ('My lady' but it's just a polite term for wife.) Sort of disapproving. Same kind of way he talks to Jiang Cheng when he acts like a shithead, but without the subsequent attempt at an ethics lesson.

And bam. Momentum halted. That line of attack is out of bounds. Nobody likes this, but good god it works.

And because they both know he ultimately has all the power, that Yu Ziyuan's lifestyle of privacy and doing exactly as she pleases at all times and so forth is all something that exists by Jiang Fengmian's generosity and sufferance, and she hates it, and he's not comfortable with it either, he sets that boundary really high, and she gets away with all kinds of cruelty because it's all stuff she's strictly allowed to do, entitled to do. So he'd be abusing his authority over her, by constraining her right to exercise her power within normative bounds over the people she outranks.

Even if she's using it harmfully and in a way directed by spite, these are her rights, she's not technically abusing her power, and her primary target in all the episodes he actually witnesses is him who outranks her; she's not being one of those mistresses.

So he'd be overstepping if he tried to constrain her, he'd be one of those husbands. Just like she always accuses him of.

(This is why she keeps insisting that she's also the master of jiang sect and he's 'forgetting' that in contexts where it doesn't make a huge amount of sense.)

Anyway, the fact that it's impossible to unpick where Jiang Fengmian's moral principles stop and his conflict-avoidance kicks in with this relationship is so much more interesting than the weirdly sexist readings I keep seeing, where it's all the conflict-avoidance and he's an unmanly loser who lets Yu Ziyuan bully him and his kids without ever standing up to her, for no good reason. When actually they have a really interesting and fantastically realistic toxic relationship.

He has a good reason! His reason is he's uncomfortable with the patriarchy! And guilty that his wife is miserable! And that he doesn't love her correctly! So he gives way as often as he can, trying to fix it!

But it doesn't fix it, because no amount of giving in to her gives her cause to trust him, and if she doesn't trust him and she knows that if he actually cares about an issue her ability to get her way will disappear, she can't feel secure about any of it. And therefore everything, especially Wei Wuxian the symbol of that fact, makes her angry and Want To Punish.

#hoc est meum #mdzs #yu ziyuan #jiang fengmian #jiang family #i am OBSESSED with them #meta #marriage #gender #character meta

282 notes · View notes

yanderehsr · 7 months

Note

Hope you have a wonderful day! The quote “Always the bridesmaid never the bride” stuck in my head and prompted the idea behind this request

Can I request yandere angst Zhongli x adeptus reader. With this context in mind: the reader has a big crush on zhongli due to him saving them from danger but Zhongli was in love with Guizhong and was ignorant of teh reader’s infatuation with him. The reader was always there for him patiently listening him vent about his emotions and even giving him good and helpful advice when Zhongli asked them about how to court Guizhong. But as we all know Guizhong unfortunately dies leaving Zhongli heartbroken. Even during his darkest moment the reader was always there for him lending him a willing ear or doing small things for him such as taking careof his work. But years go by and Zhongli is.. well he is now living among the people of Liyue and focus on making it prosper that accidentally ignores the reader’s obvious feelings for him. So after years of being push aside and also out of respect for Guizhong the reader just stops pursuing Zhongli romantically and avoids him, going out of there way to avoid him so that they no longer feel the pain of a broken heart. What would Zhongli do when he finds out that the person who stuck by his side amd whom he thought of a very close friend was in love with him? And to what lengths would he go through to get them back again.

-Thanks for reading my request!

Took some time but finally found motivation to write, I decided to go with female reader for this one, hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Suggestive at the end

Someone would need to tell Zhongli about your previous crush for him to know of it, someone like Ganyu or Cloud Retainer. It shocks him, he had never thought of you like that, it makes him think about it.

Zhongli remembers how you used to listen to his frustrations, helped him with own crush on the now deceased Guizhong, you were always on his side no matter the situation, to spend his life with you, it honestly didn't sound all that bad, it sounded lovely really.

And that is when Zhongli takes notice, he hasn't seen you for a couple of years, when did you distance yourself from him, were where you now. Maybe he should go out and search for you tomorrow.

He searches for days, weeks but he can still not find you, it's almost like... like you are avoiding him, no no that was impossible, you liked him right, he thinks of the smile you always wore and how beautiful it was, he truly was a fool for not noticing earlier.

When Zhongli finally finds you again he can feel his heart beating in his chest, you look just like you used to, every last deatil as it had been a millennium ago, he hugs you from behind, he has finally found his love, he doesn't hesitate to confess and he was sure you would accept, you loved him afte-

"I'm sorry Morax, but I have moved on and so should you"

Zhongli goes real quiet upon hearing that, he was so sure of your answer but you are here telling him you have moved on, nononononono, this can't be happening, you were supposed to be with him, you loved him right, you were supposed to be his mate forevermore.

The lack of response from Zhongli makes you turn around and the sight is one to fear, his eyes slit as a snake and he looks at you with possessiveness in his eyes, markings of geo formed on his arms, something was behind him, it couldn't be a tail could it?

The ground shook, even without his gnosis he still had unbelievable strenght, he closes in on you as you struggle to even stand, he can't loose you as well, he needs to tie you down to him, but how.

Zhongli hugs you, unbothered by your struggling he came up with an idea, he would transfer you to an adepti's abode, where you will be given his first time, pump you so full of him that it would be impossible for you to not end up with children, his children. Zhongli loves you so much he almost can't wait.

"Mine, you are mine, it was my mistake for not realising your love for me until it was too late, but I'm sure I can make you love me again MY mate"

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere male #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader

617 notes · View notes

imagine-silk · 4 months

Note

Hello! May I request fallout 4 companions (Nick especially) with Sole who shares the bare minimum of information about themselves? Not because Sole doesn’t trust them, they really enjoy theirs companions company. Perhaps they busy themselves so they don’t have to think about all the little and big things they miss. (I bet Codsworth would find pristine things that Sole would miss (like a favorite movie, vinyl, or comic?))

Sorry if its not something you’re interested in doing right now. The ask kinda came out as a ramble, I’m lacking sleep haha. Thanks again for considering my request!

》Honestly one of my favorite kinds of characters.

【Cait】 She doesn't appreciate it. Her contract was traded to some random weirdo who barely says anything. It took three days before the topic of your name came up. And two weeks to know what you were looking for, who. But in return you don't ask what she does on her own time or what she's done. It feels like you don't mind rather than you don't care and that makes her feel seen. It stays between you unsaid in her eyes.

♡If romanced she doesn't push for any information. You'll tell her if it's important. People think it's weird the two of you to not share about yourselves like normal people but you're happy, that's all that matters.

【Codsworth】 It's just like it was before. He, unlike the others, already knows you. He knows you very well. Not only did you do an intake for daily preferences but he also served you for a few years. While you're out and about you'll do something or say something that sounds like no information to others or out of context and he'll answer, "Just as I was thinking as well." While you camp with some of the other companions he does chores the way you like without needing to ask, making comment on recent events, which makes them jealous for sure. He digs up things from the house he preserved or found and fixes them up brand new before presenting it to you. Songs you liked or wanted to hear. Movies and shows and comics. Clothes pressed for you and the furniture is redone the way it used to be. He knows you and wants to keep it that way.

【Curie】 Low-key doesn't care. She has one thing on her mind and that's her own goal to better medicine. Finding things to do that is all she needs of you. When she goes to be a synth her feelings overwhelm her and you guide her through that. She's never ever asked about you. She'll tell you about what she's feeling but never thinks to ask what you feel. In her defense, is doesn't understand the nuance of social interactions. And to her credit, it works for the both of you.

♡If she's romanced she realizes she wants to know what you feel and if it's the same as her. She's mostly interested in what you feel now rather than what your opinion is in the past or isn't currently relevant.

【Danse】 Right away he doesn't care for it. A mercenary who talks very little can be dangerous. But you followed orders well and are a damn good shot. The way he asks is more like demanding. It was all for a vetting process but still rude. After the intake he didn't care about your lack of openness. Didn't matter to him personally. After BB he suddenly regrets not knowing you. He was so rude and dismissed you as another faceless soldier and you saved him, from the Brotherhood and himself. Now he wants to know you.

♡If romanced he makes effort to know you, like really know you. For a long time he refused individuality so his own sense of self is not great. But you know yourself and make no attempt to hide it. You are so sure of yourself you don't need to explain. That's one of the things he loves about you.

【Deacon】 He thinks you're like him, that you want to hide in plain sight. As much as he gives that to you he's nosy as fuck and takes every chance to learn about you, mostly from afar. It doesn't take any time at all for him to realize you'll just tell him. Most of them are one word answers. It takes him even less time after that to realize you'll comment on things from before the war especially.

♡If romanced he goes out of his way to show you stuff. Old posters and toys. If you follow my headcanon that he's pre-war, he makes old references and generally adds comments on things to bait your answers.

【Hancock】 He thinks it's pretty cool. "Oh, tall, dark, and handsome/beautiful." He does play twenty questions with you 24/7 and is very happy with your half-answers because an answer is still an answer. Plus he knows at least two other people like you. He is the one who figures out that you just don't have the time or think about talking about yourself rather than purposely keeping secrets the fastest. He knows people so he knows better.

♡If romanced he plays with it. You want a kiss? Tell him what's your favorite color. He'll get on his knees if you tell him what you like about your new home. But honestly he'll do it anyways. All he needs to know is that you want him like he wants you.

【MacCready】 He was more concerned about you putting a bullet in his head while his back was turned. Everyone in the Commonwealth was looking out for number one. So imagine his surprise when you were looking out for your number one and it wasn't you. Not only were you looking for your son but you stopped to help every person who asked for help. Your actions spoke to him in a way your words, he figured, couldn't. You didn't need to help him but you did. You didn't take the caps back. And you killed the gunners the second they turned their guns on him even when they said their beef wasn't with you. It was what you did, not what you told him.

♡If romanced he will ask things. Basic ones are like, "How was your day?" Normal questions that are the peak of domestic life. Then the more personal things. Some sound silly, "What's your favorite color?" But most build off of a quick thing you said in passing, "Wait, you've been to California? What was it like?" He trusts you'll tell him the truth.

【Nick】 As a private detective this simply won't do. He gets it at first, you just need him to find your son, it's business. However, you want him to stay with you after that. It confuses him because you made no indication you like him in the slightest way. He's the second fastest to realize you're not keeping to yourself on purpose. As one of the only ones who are pre-war he's able to get things the others can't. He'll talk about things and give his options and bait you into answering it. That was a common way to get people to talk back then when you were trying to be polite and keep up the conversation, even if the conversation stays a bit thin.

♡If he's romanced he makes fun of the fact you forget to say things about yourself. Don't get it wrong, he makes it clear you don't need to share. He's just poking fun.

【Piper】 This simply won't do. She asks as many question as they come up but she gets depressing short answers. You either give one word answers or say you're not really in the mood, on some occasions you admit you don't know, you never thought about it. It takes a long time for her to stop and that's only because the questions start getting old. And you still feel like a mystery even though you've told her everything.

♡If she's romanced she realizes how much you've told her and pushes it. What is your type? How do your lips feel? Why do you look so good? It becomes playful and light, never serious.

【Preston】 In the beginning he didn't realize he didn't know much about you. He took your help selfishly to get him and his people back on stable ground but you told him you were happy to help. So he takes time to learn about you and give you everything he could possibly help you with. In hopes you would share by yourself he gives things to you without any prompt. It doesn't really work most of the time.

♡If romanced he asks things with hearts in his eyes. He is so lovesick he takes all of your half-answers and files it away in his mind. It hardly matters at that point.

【X6】 It wasn't his mission so he didn't care. You owed him no explanation or justification. Doesn't mean he doesn't question you. He asks why you helped someone, why you stopped for a distraction. And of course you give short answers like, "They needed help." or "I wanted to." Later, after the Institute is gone, he sees how you carry yourself and tries to copy it. Obviously he can't so you help him too. You showed him he can figure himself out by himself and he didn't need you. So he held the same opinion; he doesn't need to know you like that.

♡If romanced he's still comfortable with you keeping things to yourself. It's only after months of being together do you realize he's never asked you a personal question, that you've never shared anything that personal. When you bring that to him he tells you that hardly matters. But seeing you make the effort after that gives him a feeling he can't describe. It's a good feeling he thinks.

#ask and you shall receive #fallout 4 #fallout imagines #fallout x reader #companions react #gender neutral reader #cait #curie #codsworth #danse #deacon fo4 #hancock #maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6 88

264 notes · View notes