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szasfuckingwife · 1 day

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CHALLENGER

GOJO SATORU X FEM!READER X GETO SUGURU

SYNOPSIS: YOU ARE KNOWN FOR YOUR BIGGEST TALENT. AND WHEN SAID TALENT IS HITTING A BALL WITH A RACKET, HOW CAN YOU STOP THE EYES OF TOKYO’S STRONGEST COMPETITORS?

WARNINGS: Nothing but some good ol’ smut

A/N: Nothing, jus go watch challengers that shit was amazing

Gojo Satoru who can’t stop gushing to his best friend Suguru about the girl he saw at the Shibuya Open. It was evident that you hitting that tennis ball with such vigour replayed in his head over and over again.

Except, his friend didn’t get the hype. I mean, he saw your sponsorships and saw that you were good. But never understood the hype. Until, he saw you play in person.

Both of the boys were starstruck on how much stamina you had, how passionate you were, and how short your shorts were. Geto and Gojo had the pleasure of fixating their gaze on you whilst everyone craned their neck to watch each opponent. And even though they missed how the other challenger played, they didn’t care.

They were looking at you.

Whilst you’re more focused on your ability to play, you notice that Gojo is a decent player. It’s clear he loves tennis. He’s fit, strong, good looking and knows how to make you smile, which is not a must but a plus for you. If it’s opening doors or getting you chocolates, Satoru is the man.

However, Geto is much more deeper than that. There’s something missing, something that you seem yo be missing too, that is inside him. When he loses a set, it’s explosive and dramatic. Like you.

From a wide perspective, Satoru would be the obvious match. After feeling insecure in how you played, not only did Satoru take you out for dinner, but his lips pressed against yours so softly.

He guided you to his bedroom and stripped you down slowly whilst not looking away from your eyes. Knuckles turn white as you grip the headboard, realising Satoru’s tongue may have more things to offer than just sweet words.

That night was passionate and, just as if you were on the court, you both took your time and concentrated on the pleasure that came with such an activity. Satoru’s veiny hands explored your body with such precision, you felt like prey under his touch. But you wouldn’t physically allow Gojo to overpower you, you were the better player by no doubt.

His cerulean eyes widened as you made your way on top of him and began to ride him. The whimpers of your friend only motivated you to continue, milking every last drop.

The days after you and Satoru’s intimate night was awkward. Geto knew you fucked, it was clear as day. The lingering stares, the less frequent hang outs, Satoru’s cheeks blushing whenever you walked in the room.

It was obvious Satoru had some feelings towards you, and Suguru wanted that too.

Never-mind being friends since they were in diapers, Gojo was taking the one thing Geto had— or did he?

One night, the pair had an argument. Sure it was about ‘Satoru stealing Suguru’s lucky socks and not giving it back. But you knew better. Outside their hotel room, you heard everything.

“Face it, Suguru, this is more than just a silly sock. It’s because you’re jealous~!” Suguru’s eye tweaked as he heard Satoru’s tease him. “You’re mad that she picked me and not you! Admit it.”

The dark haired man stayed silent for a while before speaking, “Whatever she did with you, she was thinking of me. She wants me.”

A smirk adorned your face as you heard your two boys talk about you in such a passionate way. They were both pining for you. And maybe Suguru was right when he said you were thinking about him when you were fucking Gojo, could you not have your cake and eat it too?

You decide it’s time to knock on the door and end this, stupid but weirdly flattering, argument.

Both of the boys stop in their track as they hear three knocks come from the door, instantly racing to clean the room. When they deemed the room clean, it was now a matter of who’d open the door for you. Face value, it was a simple task but q task that both of them took with great seriousness.

Just as quick as they cleaned the room, they both raced to the door, Geto being a smidge faster.

“Hey..!” They both said in unison as you stood, a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“Hi.” You responded. You walked in without getting invited, something the boys were accustomed to the more they knew you.

They watched as you sat on a seat, “You want a drink?”, Gojo spoke up, “Beer?”

You shrug and almost instantaneously, Geto was in front of you with a can of beer in hand.

“Why are you guys acting so weird…?” A chuckle leaves your mouth as you open the can. They both look at each other before Satoru responds.

“So, Suguru is mad because I may have, accidentally, used his lucky socks for my set last night-”

“Lucky socks my ass! You’re just mad because you know that Y/N is into me.” Suguru smirks earning another chuckle from you. Satoru’s eyes flick between you and Suguru with a slight frown.

He shakes his head, “It’s not even like that!”

You turn your head to him and raise a brow, “What’s it like then, Satoru?”

He remains silent for a while. Probably weighing his choices, does he leave the situation alone and appear weak in front of the girl he likes or does he fight back against Suguru? “He’s jealous we fucked.”

Suguru booming laugh echoes throughout the room. He was taking it seriously, however the pathetic way in which Satoru spoke humoured him. “Listen to this guy, Y/N…I mean seriously. I wouldn’t be jealous of another man for sleeping with a woman. A woman isn’t just her body.”

Ironically, you were just your body. For tennis, that was all you relied on. Your agile glides against your half of the tennis court, your mobility, your cadence. Without your amazing body, you wouldn’t be able to do what you love.

“Suguru.” You interrupted the bickering.

He looked at you.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

The question caused both of them to choke on their own breaths. You’ve always been known for having no filter, but the natural way you spoke of having sex was a shock for the two boys.

“Y/N, stop messing aro-” “I’ll let you.” You expose your magazine front cover smile, playfully giggling at their reaction.

“You’d let me?” Suguru began to grin before he was struck on the back of his head by Satoru’s hand.

You giggle again, “I’d let both of you. C’mon…pleasure me…”

Both boys watch as your hand travels up Suguru’s thigh, achingly close to his crotch. His breath hitches as he takes in the feeling of you kissing his neck.

But suddenly, like a lost puppy, Satoru kisses your neck in hopes you wouldn’t forget him. And you don’t. You turn your head with a smile and a gasp, letting him continue to kiss your neck.

And then, another pair of lips are on your neck. You hold their heads as both of them now hungrily kiss your neck.

“Can we…touch you..?” Satoru says in between kisses. You eagerly nod before you feel hands on your thigh. Geto’s hand cupped your breast whilst his friend’s fingers rubbed against the outside of your panties.

You tried to his your smile with a bite of your lip but you can’t help it. Your boys were being so good to you, and treating you so well. To reward them, your hands were back on both of their, now hard, crotches. They gasped and moaned as you rubbed the outline of their cocks so nicely.

“Take off your shorts…” You whisper and they immediately did what you said. As they sat with their cocks out, they watched you kneel before them, smiling so innocently at them. You were a tease.

Slowly, you began to stroke both of their cocks simultaneously. Seeing as he never felt your touch before, Suguru threw his head back in ecstasy. The white haired boy, however, spat down at his cock, encouraging you to go faster.

“You like that, Satoru? Hm?” You smirk up at him. He nods absentmindedly, too caught up in the feeling to properly communicate. Another giggle leaves your lips as you turn to face Suguru, “How about you, pretty boy?”

Suguru hums in response, “Mmhmm…Yeah…it’s good…”

The boys moans rose in frequency and pitch, the pleasure of feeling their friend’s hand wrapped around them felt too good. But you knew better than to let them cum this early, you removed your hands. Both of them responded in a sour face, a whine even left Satoru’s mouth.

“Satoru, you stand there, Suguru, you can get on the bed…” You say whilst stripping yourself down. “After this, you better win that fucking challenger..”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #jujutsu geto #geto smut #szasfuckingwife

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genderkoolaid · 17 hours

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re: the terf boob post. if i'm thinking of the same post / blog (i might not be because they say things like that. all the time. it's not rare!) i believe that blog got an anon about cis intersex men with gynecomastia experiencing a lot of what the blogger said and she went on say the usual "intersex people arent real they're DSD males and DSD females" but just. acted like it wouldn't be That Bad because Male. and also intersex men can't experience sex based oppression so they don't matter.

just explaining away and minimizing it until it's Not Real because it would contradict The Radfem Doctrine of "everyone i consider A Male has never experienced [negative thing they experience]." idk why i'm surprised but i'm still reeling from the mental gymnastics weeks later lmao

"males can't experience sex based oppression" girl literally what the fuck do you call a group of people being systemically disenfranchised based on their sexed traits.

it really is like. at certain points of radical feminist theory my reaction is "I can see why you believe this, I just fundamentally disagree with this being the best perspective to take" and then there are other points where I go oh okay. you straight up are not engaging with reality here. like even putting aside the "DSD" shit (because while it's gross and patriarchal, radfems love binaries so it's not surprising). it's just absurd to act like intersexism isn't sex based oppression. it only makes sense for someone who is invested in "males" being an innate category of person with a single universal experience of sex privilege. it's like when they claim trans women don't experience misogyny despite there being a very clear difference between how cis men and ""trans-identified males""" are treated by patriarchy. you can talk about how we SHOULD interpret these facts, but downplaying them is just ridiculous and transparent.

#m.#ask box #intersexism

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mswyrr · 24 hours

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kanthony thoughts: rivals to lovers done right

I usually prefer Enemies to Lovers to Rivals to Lovers. What is the difference I see there, you might ask? Enemies are on opposite sides of a serious, life and death conflict, and rivals have issues with each other, but their rivalry takes place within the realm of everyday life. For me, I can forgive bad behavior within a serious conflict more easily than if the Rivals to Lovers couple goes over the top in a less serious situation.

I said all that to say: Kanthony is Rivals to Lovers done right. Below are the reasons I see for why.

1- The writers keep putting them in situations where everyone around them is feeling competitive - horse racing, the yearly Bridgerton pall-mall game, the hunt. If everyone around them has their blood up and is vying with each other, it's understandable that the situation brings out the competitive energy and Belligerent Sexual Tension they're both feeling for each other. They don't seem to be going over the top because of some inner excessive pettiness; they're caught up in the spirit of the thing and it's unleashing their repressed feelings for each other.

2- They are both competitive but also "good sports" - they conduct themselves honorably in these scenarios. No cheating, no getting too personal in their swipes at each other. They both love to compete and to win and hate to lose and they're bubbling over with repressed passion for each other, but they'll accept defeat without being childish or over the top mean. They maintain a sense of perspective, even when they're being passionate.

3- Their banter is either sincere or appropriately artful. Example: at the soiree, after Kate hears Anthony talking about ladies as chattels to the other men, she takes a huge risk in confronting him about it- this is a very rich and powerful man and she is a smart person, she knows keeping her secrets close is the safest and best way to do things in her situation. But she cares about him and hates that he'd talk like that - so she speaks up. She longs to connect with him, to understand why he could say such a thing. For his part, he cares that she's so hurt by what he said, he cares about her opinion of him. They matter to each other. This is the "sincerity" category of banter.

Kate saves her sharpest words for when they're alone, communicating two things (1) she likes this man enough that she's willing to risk being alone with him and tell him her truth and (2) he's eager to interact to the point of being willing to take that from her. He's willing to say "why do you hate me?" and truly want to earn her good opinion.

The other kind of banter, the appropriately artful kind, is told indirectly through the competitive games they play. For example: at the horse race she uses talking about horses--and how Anthony has simply chosen the one everyone is choosing--to criticize him for seemingly choosing Edwina simply because the Queen has named her the diamond of this season. But their byplay is all indirect - neither is aiming to wound or publicly humiliate the other. They want to win, but not destroy.

Good "Screwball Comedy" era films (1930s-40s) did Rivals to Lovers this way too - the couple would banter *over something* with subtext going harder but the surface not being too personal - that's the art to good Rivals to Lovers, the delicate balance. It can't feel too much, too mean, or too little.

4 - They are quick to have empathy and compassion for each other. They try to truly listen and see things from each other's point of view. The best example of this, to me, is the end of the pall-mall game - sure, they've been competitive. But Kate shares that she sees herself as a guardian for Edwina, like Anthony is for his sisters. And Anthony not only respects that - he says he sincerely wishes to earn her good favor. For her part, when her parting shot of the ball goes awry, landing near Anthony's father's grave, Kate senses something wrong and cares - she tries to understand how Anthony is feeling and why. She regrets if she "crossed the line" and went too personal - she's aware there IS a line and their rivalry doesn't justify wounding him deeply, even unintentionally. Anthony treats her with the same consideration as well.

This point is VITAL to cross from rivals to lovers - they both want to understand and have compassion and empathy for each other. As they learn more and connect more, the rivalry part wanes (though they'll always love being competitive together - in a sportsmanlike way!) and the desire to connect and understand intensifies. It feels organic as the shift happens because both components have been part of things all along - the urge to compete and the urge to care and understand.

5- They are explicitly paralleled as similar people who have hurt the same way (and tried to cope with that pain similarly). This is true of my favorite EtL ships: the baddie is often symbolically representing part of the goodie or a dark mirror of them etc. RtL often foregoes this so the rival is, like... just some random jerk?? But when they're mirrors or connected on a deeper level, compassion and empathy for the other is compassion and empathy for themselves too - vitally important with two people who don't "listen" to their own hearts like Kate and Anthony. They've buried them deep - but they can "hear" by listening to each other and caring. They can process their own feelings that way and learn self-compassion and self expression.

It's really good and if more Rivals to Lovers was done this well I'd love it! The writing here is certainly a template I'd turn to for inspiration if I ever write an RtL pairing.

#kate bridgerton #kanthony #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #romance #my meta #bridgerton meta

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djarins-cyare · 1 day

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Never Look Down

Part 1: Din’s Evening

Series Masterlist

Prompt: “I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.”

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+) with a smidge of explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (for his POV scenes) / Din Djarin x Reader (for her POV scenes)

Word count: 5,330

Tags/warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, vomit (no description), numerous references to erections, some swearing, references to sex, non-explicit smutty thots, Din carries OFC a short distance, masturbation (male, semi-explicit, but I don’t think enough to push up the rating), 3rd person POV (part 2 will be 2nd person POV and OFC will become reader/you).

Author’s note: This was originally supposed to be for @beskarandblasters’ Din Djarin Fic Club Drabble Event, although drabble this is not! Kel said there was no word limit, but it grew so long that I couldn’t even call it a one-shot anymore, so I’m uploading it in two parts to make it easier to read and I think that probably disqualifies it from the Drabble Event. But Kel, thank you so much anyway for the prompt – it resulted in me finally pushing through my writer’s block and finishing/uploading something new, so I’m eternally grateful!

READ ON AO3 (author’s preference)

Tumblr version ahead if you prefer…

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

He’s panicking. It’s stupid, really – he’s been in situations far trickier and more critical than this. But Karga said he needed help urgently, and now his babysitter isn’t answering her comlink.

Should he just go and leave Grogu here? It’s not like he never left him alone on the ship.

Except… something’s changed since the adoption. Din has started to care what others think of his parenting style. He hears people whisper that fatherhood clearly isn’t coming easily to him (he thought he was doing alright). He watches how his babysitter closely monitors every move the kid makes (the Mandalorians never watched him that closely). He listens when people talk about how they raise their own children (he hadn’t realised it was such hard work). And it’s made him feel as if he’s… lacking.

He hates feeling less than adequate in any area of his life, but somehow, failing as a father cuts deep. Perhaps it’s because he grew up without one. Plus, that scolding Peli gave him after she found Grogu alone on the Razor Crest still haunts him.

Although the Mandalorian method of letting them learn from their mistakes has merit (and it never did him any harm), he wants to be there for his son. So, no. He won’t leave Grogu here alone. He can’t risk him waking up and wondering why nobody comes if he calls. The kid has probably had enough of that in his past.

Why isn’t Maia picking up?

Din paces the cabin’s length, listening to the gentle ping of the comlink as it tries to connect with the one he gave her. Even the soothing pulse doesn’t ease his frustration. Diligent parenting is hard.

Just as he’s wondering if he can wake the kid and bring him along, the comlink crackles to life.

“—know what the stinking stang is wrong with it! Ah, frotz! Hello? Is this thing totally borked?”

For a baffling moment, he can’t work out whether he’s shocked or thrilled. She certainly doesn’t use that type of language around the kid, but he’s delighted to hear her voice nonetheless.

“Maia!” He interrupts her frustrated confusion as loud as he dares, lest he wake the sleeping child downstairs.

“Shiny, hi! It works! What’s up, my metal man? It’s late… is this a booty call?”

Once again, Din can’t decide if he’s shocked or thrilled. However, his dick’s instant twitch of interest proves that it, at least, is clearly siding with the latter. Dank farrik, he wishes it were a booty call. “No, Maia, I need—”

“Course it’s not!” she interrupts, giggling inanely. “Sorry, that was ridiculous, ignore me. Go on, you were saying?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to push past the stab of dismay at her labelling the idea of a booty call as ridiculous. At least she sounds in a happy mood.

“I’m sorry to contact you so late, but Karga has some kind of crisis. IG-11 is still with the Anzellans for repairs after the last crisis, so he’s asked for my help. Grogu’s asleep, but I’m gonna need you to come over and wait at the cabin until I return. I’ll pay you double your usual rate. I just don’t wanna leave him here alone.”

“Suuure! I’ll haul my jets over to you now. Five, ten minutes, tops. If you wanna take off now, I know your door code. I’ll check on the li’l bug as soon as I arrive.”

Din breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank you, I owe you. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Happy hunting, Beskar Boy! Or happy dispute settling!” Maia signs off with a melodic laugh that instantly makes him grin beneath his helmet, despite the stupid nickname.

The grin fades as he processes the meaning of the words preceding her addictive laughter, and he sighs. She’s probably right, although he hopes he’ll at least need his blaster for whatever mess the High Magistrate wants him to clean up.

Karga was once able to intimidate the townsfolk, but these days, they see him as purely a leader and captain of industry. They respect his ability to govern and improve the town – he’s more than proven himself capable in those roles. But whipping out a blaster from beneath those ridiculous robes now gains him little more than dubious raised eyebrows. By contrast, Cara was a fearsome and capable law enforcer, and now IG-11 keeps the citizens in line.

Except a reptavian tore off both of IG’s legs a few nights ago. Apparently, whatever the droid equivalent of ‘sick leave’ is, he’s taking it.

Din doesn’t mind helping out when he’s not on jobs for Carson. As long as Karga doesn’t solicit his help too often, it’s an easy way to make a few extra credits. He supposes that kind of makes him a part-time deputy, though he’ll never accept a title or a contract. But if tonight’s job is nothing more than a neighbour dispute, he’ll be a little peeved. His friend is aware of his skillset and wouldn’t contact him unless it required weapons and armour. He hopes.

He checks on Grogu once more, then equips himself with his usual arsenal, making sure to lock the weapons cabinet behind him. For some reason, his blasters fascinate Maia. He’s given her several shooting lessons, and she always asks to hold them whenever the cabinet’s unlocked. Although he doubts she’d handle them without his permission, he’d rather be present if she’s caressing his things.

Truthfully, he’d prefer it if she handled and caressed something else entirely, though he buries that thought for now. He has work to do, and an ill-timed hard-on would be awkward at best, if not downright perverse. He can torture himself later.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Din wraps up the problem in less than an hour. It does require his blaster, in fact, and he does have to shoot someone. Okay, it’s in the shoulder to disarm him, but the guy is only on his drunken vendetta because he’s heartbroken. He doesn’t deserve to die.

A year ago, he would’ve just shot him in the head and gone home. But he’s lived among the citizens of Nevarro for several months now, and he’s almost starting to feel like part of the community. Passing through it to visit the old covert was different. The Mandalorians were a separate (secret) colony, and he was merely a visitor who lived on his ship. Even though his new home is still on the outskirts, Grogu attends the school in town, and he already knows many of the other parents by name. These days, the market stall owners try to chat with him instead of looking away in fear as they used to.

The guy standing on a table in the cantina tonight with a blaster trained on his ex and her new flame is someone Din recognises. He can’t recall from where, but disarming rather than killing him feels like the right thing to do.

Once he has him in binders, he delivers him to Karga and hurries straight home. The lava flats are quiet and peaceful this time of night, free from the nocturnal bustle of the town and lit only by the celestial display above. There’s no sulphur fog tonight, and the air smells fresh.

But as pleasant as it is, he doesn’t dawdle. Just like every other time he’s left Maia in charge, he relishes the chance to walk into his home and see her there. As if she belongs. He finds that image far more dazzling than the constellations sparkling above him. It’s far sweeter than the fresh air he inhales through his helmet filters as he hastens toward his cabin.

He can’t pinpoint when his interest in her changed from professional to passionate. Grogu made it clear that he liked her best out of the several childminders they auditioned, so he gave her the job. At some point between then and now, he became enamoured with her.

But he can’t do anything about it.

His loyalty to his son means he can’t fuck the babysitter, so for now, Maia belongs to the kid, and Din sleeps alone.

Even though he’s had no serious relationships in the past, he imagines he’d be willing to try it with her. But since it’ll never happen, it’s not worth dwelling on. He’s noticed a few locals checking him out, so he can always approach them if he’s looking to get laid. He’s much more used to casual encounters.

But none of that stops Din from thinking his babysitter is beautiful. It doesn’t stop him from wishing he could run his hands over her welcoming body, indulge in her tender touch and heady scent, sink into her depths over and over until she’s crying out his name as they shatter together in ecstasy….

Dank farrik, he’d better quit thinking like that. He has enough trouble controlling his physical urges around her as it is. In fact, it’s starting to become a problem. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to dash off and furtively rearrange himself so his stomach padding hides his boner. He can’t wear the flight suits with the tight pants around her anymore, so the looser-fitting ones are getting much more use. In fact, he’s wearing his last pair. (That reminds him: he needs to do laundry tomorrow.)

Maia teases him whenever she can, but it’s always friendly, not flirty, and it doesn’t come close to being sexual. He’s never caught her looking anywhere other than directly at his visor. Still, he can’t help feeling embarrassed whenever something she says or does causes his cock to harden. He simply can’t control it.

Din reaches the cabin and punches in the door code, happy to note that his guest has locked it from inside. Her diligence and attention to detail certainly helped him trust her in his home from the outset of her employment.

Stepping across the threshold, he notices all the lights are out except for the one above the kitchen sink, which is unusual. Stranger still, all it illuminates is a near-full cup of water standing in a pool of condensation.

Nonetheless, it’s bright enough for him to survey the rest of the room cast in shadowed shades of grey.

He can’t see Maia.

Instantly, his heart rate rises, although he doesn’t panic. She’s probably just in the refresher or the kid’s bedroom with him. But the amount of moisture surrounding that cup shows it’s been sitting there almost as long as he was gone, which is curious. And there’s no light coming from downstairs either.

The cabin is small, with an open-plan kitchen and living space, and a staircase leading down to two bedrooms and the refresher. Din’s priority is his son, so he creeps down the ferrocrete steps, well-practised at following the route silently. With his night vision on, he can see that Grogu’s door is open a crack, and he pushes it wider. Little purring snores verify that the kid is sleeping soundly, and he slides the door fully closed to ensure he stays that way. Good.

Since his babysitter wasn’t in that room, and she wouldn’t invade his private space without permission, there’s only one other option. He bypasses his own bedroom opposite Grogu’s and heads to the door facing him – the refresher. He can’t pick up any sounds from within, but he’s not about to invade her privacy by listening too intently. The door is fully shut, but there’s a faint glow through the ventilation grill at the bottom, too weak to be the usual lights. A glowrod?

That’s rather odd. He’s grateful that Maia avoided putting on the hall lights while Grogu’s door was ajar, but she could’ve switched on the refresher lights once inside.

For an unsettling moment, Din isn’t sure how to proceed. He really doesn’t want to interrupt her if she’s busy. But… his instincts are telling him something is off, and he wants to know she’s okay.

He’ll give her a little longer. He’d rather be cautious than a perv.

He retreats upstairs again, conducting a thorough check of the living space and kitchen but finding nothing abnormal or suspicious. Nothing besides that abandoned cup of water, at least. Next comes his nightly check of the cabin’s weak points – the windows and entryway. He secures them all, figuring he can escort Maia out when she’s ready. Tipping away the water, he runs a fresh cup, turns his back to the stairs to lift his helmet and drink, and refills it. Finally, he disarms himself of most of his weapons, leaving one blaster in its holster and his vibroblade in his boot. He likes to bring some of his usual arsenal downstairs with him, even though he has multiple spares in a secure cabinet near his bed.

Which is where he’s headed now. Din sets the drink on his nightstand, switches off his night vision, and switches on the dim bedside light. His guest has seen him armourless a few times before, so he begins removing his beskar and the rest of his kit. He’s almost finished – just his armourweave stomach padding to go – when he hears a thump from the refresher.

In seconds, he’s outside it again, listening intently for any further clues. He’s been in the business of handling unconscious bodies for decades, and that sounded like an unconscious body.

“Maia?” he tries, keeping his voice low to ensure he won’t disturb the kid.

Nothing.

He knocks gently, giving it a few moments.

Still nothing.

Okay, now he’s really starting to worry. He returns to his bedroom, grabs his vambrace, and flicks through his visual settings until he’s replaced his night vision with the thermal overlay. He hopes he isn’t crossing a line here, but what else can he do? Walking to his doorway, he takes a deep breath… and directs his visor at the refresher.

Dank farrik, she’s on the fucking floor. Why didn’t he check sooner?

Jabbing off the thermal overlay, Din throws his vambrace on the bed, then rushes to the refresher door. He keeps his voice low in case he wakes Grogu, hoping it reaches her anyway. “Maia, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”

He gives her five torturous seconds to respond or get decent if she isn’t already, and then he keys in the override code. The door slides open, revealing his unconscious (but blessedly fully clothed) babysitter slumped near the toilet, lit by a glowrod on the floor next to her. He can now hear her breathing heavily, though it doesn’t sound laboured, just a deep state of sleep.

His helmet isn’t sealed, so straight away, he’s able to detect the lingering smell of vomit. A somewhat grim consequence of being both a bounty hunter and a father means Din can also distinguish types of vomit. Although she has flushed, there’s no air filtration with the lights off, and the residual odour tells him that Maia has been drinking alcohol.

It also explains her unconscious state, so his worry dissipates a little, and mild annoyance starts to creep in.

She agreed to look after his son when she’d been drinking?

He kneels down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Maia. Wake up.” He shakes her, but she doesn’t stir.

He assumes she slipped from a propped-up position against the toilet, and the thud he heard was her slumping onto the ferrocrete floor. Did she bang her head? If that didn’t wake her… shit.

He tries shaking her again with as much force as he dares, and she groans and curls up even more. She’s fighting it, but he sees consciousness sluggishly returning.

“Maia, it’s Din. Can you sit up?”

“… y’can’t make me sing for the cup….” She’s still half asleep and confused, but that’s not surprising. A few seconds later, she cracks open her eyes, becomes aware of her situation, and slams them shut again. “Oh… fuuuck… no no, m’sorry… so so so s-sorry… please don’t be mad at meee….” She’s tearful and rambling but mostly coherent, even though she’s still curled on the floor with her eyes squeezed closed.

“What happened?” He can’t think of anything else to say until he’s established her culpability. He knows she wouldn’t drink on the job, so she must’ve been drinking earlier this evening. It certainly explains her overzealous response on the comlink. Dank farrik, he should’ve realised. But, no, he was busy revelling in his own drunken high from her joke about it being a booty call. Idiot.

“It was accidet— ac-ci-den-tal,” she continues from her foetal position. “Tried to call you back, but m’comlink’s busted… figured better I’m here drunk than not at all… ’m sorry sorry sorry, kark, pleeease don’t hate me. I jus’ wanted to make sure the li’l man was okay. I didn’t realise how much I’d had till I stood up, n’ it hit me worse on the way over. But Grogu’s fine, I checked. But I’ve grossed up your ’fresher, ’m sorry…”

Din sighs. In the scheme of things, Maia did the right thing. He’d rather she was here puking in his refresher than risk his child waking up alone. And it occurs to him that she achieved a surprising amount while seemingly drunk as a pirate. She secured the cabin, poured herself some water, stomached a few sips, managed to descend the stairs unscathed, and checked on the kid. Then she sealed herself inside the refresher and threw up neatly into the toilet bowl with no spills, even managing to flush before she passed out. And she did all that by the light of a glowrod so she wouldn’t wake Grogu.

In many ways, his babysitter’s actions tonight were more responsible than some of his own questionable choices regarding his son’s safety. He can’t be mad at her.

He tells her so. “I’m not mad, Maia. Thank you for coming over anyway. Can you sit up? I need to know you’re okay.”

Her eyes are still clamped shut, but she cracks them slightly as she tries to push herself off the floor. It doesn’t go well, so Din reaches forward to help, and together, they get her into a stable sitting position. Nevarro’s volcanic environment means the basement maintains a cosy warmth, so he’s not surprised she passed out down here. It’s not exactly soft, but those who grow up in the Outer Rim spend their lives making do. He likes that she’s a survivor. Like him.

“Everything’s s-spinning,” she groans. “N’ my mouth tastes like bantha balls.”

Din suppresses a snort. “Hold on.” He climbs to his feet, retrieves the cup of water from his bedroom, and then passes it to her. “Here, sip.”

After she’s taken a few delicate sips, Maia gives him back the cup. “Don’t wanna puke again.”

“You won’t,” he assures, placing it in her hands again. “Pretty sure you got all the alcohol out of your system already. You gotta rehydrate, or you’ll feel worse.”

Kneeling down next to her again, he watches her try to follow his instruction, pleased she trusts him. He can’t help but admire how adorably dishevelled she is. Her hair is mussed, her clothes are wrinkled, and she keeps pouting between sips… but it’s all so… cute.

Once she’s had half the cup, he accepts it back, though she follows it up with more apologies. “M’so sorry… , m’such a karkin’ idiot… I get it if you don’t want me to look after Grogu anym—”

“Stop,” Din interrupts sharply, unwilling to let her beat herself up. “This is as much on me as it is on you. I didn’t ask you if you were busy. I demanded you come over and bribed you with extra credits. I didn’t question why you sounded different on the comlink. And I didn’t wait for you to arrive. If I’d done any of those things differently, you might not have ended up on my ’fresher floor. So I’m sorry too.” Maia doesn’t reply besides blinking at him a few times, so he asks, “What was the occasion? For the drinking, I mean.”

“One year of freedom from a terrible relationship,” she states resolutely, and for a moment, she seems a little more sober. “Me n’ Zandi, we were both in deep with some mudscuffers who locked us in when we were too young to know any better. But we got lucky. Marshal Dune caught them dealing spice, and now they’re spending a decade mining the asteroid field at the edge of the system. The Nevarran tribunal sentenced them a year ago today, so we drank to celebrate our freedom.”

Din doesn’t really know how to respond. She’s made some previous passing remarks about the toxic relationships she and her friend escaped from, which he’s always taken as hints of her wish to remain unattached. It’s yet another reason he wouldn’t feel right about making any sort of move on her. He settles on, “You… deserve to celebrate.”

“Thanks, Shiny.” He bristles at the nickname out of habit, but he secretly likes that Maia has numerous nicknames for him. “N’ you deserve a ’fresher without a woman on the floor. I should get outta your way, Beskar Boy.”

She tries pushing herself up but instantly becomes dizzy and topples to the side. Din’s naturally quick reflexes kick in, and he positions himself to catch her, letting her fall into his chest as his arm snakes around her back. Before he can even process what he’s doing, he’s slipping his other arm beneath her knees and lifting her up.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, grabbing onto his flight suit with one hand while the other flies to grasp his neck. He almost shivers from feeling her clutch at him so keenly. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love it! Thanks for the lift, muscles!”

He’s glad his bold move has amused rather than perturbed her, so he doesn’t answer, too busy willing his cock to remain unreactive to this sudden closeness. His main goal is to get her off the ferrocrete floor and put her down somewhere softer as fast as possible. As he elbows open the door and navigates out of the refresher, he makes a split-second decision. His bed is closer than the couch.

“Shiny! This is your bedroom!” Maia whisper-shouts as he steps through the door. At least she’s lucid enough to keep her voice low in case Grogu hears across the hall.

Din grunts in agreement as he approaches his bed and starts carefully lowering her onto it.

She keeps going in a gleeful whisper. “Is this…? Are we…? Kriff, I never thought I’d actually end up in your bed, metal man! I mean, it’s been a dream, sure, but I figured your creed thing meant, like, no sex or whatever. But holy frotz, I guess tonight really was a booty call! Count me the fuck in!”

He’s already laid her down by the time he fully processes her words.

Dank farrik, he’s a fucking idiot.

He will never have sex with any woman in this state. He’s not that kind of guy. The fact that being with Maia is a dream for him too is meaningless, and so is the possibility that she might actually want him. Because does she really? Maybe this is still the alcohol talking. It has to be. Right?

It doesn’t even matter. All Din needs to do is extract himself from this situation in the least awkward way possible and without having to reject her verbally.

But how?

He points a finger at her. “Stay put.” She bites her bottom lip and acknowledges his order with a sloppy salute.

Damn it, the image of her lip caught between her teeth is now burned into his brain, haunting him with forbidden promise.

He pads back to the refresher in his socks and closes the door, relieving himself, flushing, and then pouring some cleaner down the toilet to sit overnight. He then washes up at the sink as fast as possible and refills the cup of water. Returning to his bedroom, Din places the cup on the nightstand along with the glowrod that belongs to his guest.

Speaking of whom…

In his brief absence, Maia has toed off her shoes, stripped naked and strewn her clothes across the floor, and burrowed under his covers. She’s still bleary from the booze, but he sees fire and lust behind her hopeful gaze as she blinks up at him.

It kills him.

He remembers he never finished removing his armour, so he retrieves the vambrace from where he threw it and places it on its shelf. Then he finally removes his stomach padding and puts that away too, directing his visor anywhere except at the naked woman in his bed. He’s doing everything possible to deny the physical reaction her presence is giving rise to.

When he’s done, Din approaches the bed again, acutely aware that she’s tracking him with a hunger he shares but can do nothing about.

Fuck, this is torture. The blanket has slipped down (or maybe Maia has arranged it) so low that it’s daringly close to exposing her nipples. She’s right there, waiting for him. Wanting him.

But she’s drunk. And she’s his kid’s babysitter. He tries to quell his ache by thinking about how she’s thrown up this evening, which would make kissing gross. It helps for a second, although the idea of kissing her at all ends up eclipsing the negatives, and he hardens even more.

Shit, he cannot think about kissing her. Or how naked she is. Or anything like that. Vomit. He should focus on vomit.

Okay. Din taps off the bedside light and picks up the glowrod, then heads to the door in the dark, stumbling over her clothes strewn on the floor. He can’t activate his helmet’s night vision without his vambrace control, but he won’t put it back on just to navigate his escape. Nor will he switch on the glowrod yet because he doesn’t want to see any dismay or regret in her eyes as he leaves her. He wants to remember the hunger he witnessed there.

Hazardous garments notwithstanding, he finds his way to the exit.

Crossing the darkened doorway’s threshold, he whispers, “Get some rest, Maia.” Then he fumbles for the control and taps the door close button, releasing a sigh as it swishes shut behind him.

Switching on the dim glowrod, he traipses upstairs. It’s going to be so kriffing awkward in the morning. Nonetheless, one thought keeps repeating itself to him above all others, one he can no longer prevent his dick from swelling at the prospect of.

Is she really attracted to him?

He has to know.

Din extracts another blaster from his cabinet, knowing he won’t sleep without one beside him. Then he sits heavily on the couch, thinking about how often he used to sleep in his helmet before this cabin became his home. It’s the first place he’s felt secure enough to remove it at night, so he’s no stranger to sleeping beneath his beskar mask. It’s almost a comfort in a way.

With his face covered in a darkened room lit by nothing but a glowrod while those he cares for slumber downstairs, more memories return…

Sitting in the Crest’s darkened cockpit, fucking his fist by the swirling glow of hyperspace, chasing a release during those first stressful days as a fugitive. In theory, if something had pulled him out of hyperspace, someone could’ve quite literally caught him with his dick in his hand. But the odds of anyone being close enough to peer in through the transparisteel at that very moment and notice his furtive actions were slim. Back then, he was so untethered that in his weaker moments, he desperately sought anything that made him feel good. Fleeting moments when he could pretend his life wasn’t falling apart yet again. The risk was worth it.

Here, too, although he’s locked up the cabin and closed the shutters, there’s a risk of Maia sneaking up the stairs and finding him. But a similar desperation fills him now – the utter frustration of loss. Back then, it was the loss of a stable income, the loss of his covert. Now, it’s his missed chance – the loss of what could’ve been with the woman downstairs. And maybe even the total loss of her in his life. Perhaps she’ll be too embarrassed about this evening’s events and quit. Din couldn’t take that, nor could Grogu. It’s why he tried to avoid this.

Can they get past this? Maybe he ought to find someone else to care for the kid. Would that be best? This is getting too complicated. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

So, right now, he’ll imagine the positive and lose himself in the fantasy, just like he used to. He’ll think about the hunger he saw in her eyes and let himself believe it wasn’t merely the alcohol. Just for tonight, he’ll believe it’s the truth. The risk, once again, is worth it.

He’s already tenting his loose flight suit pants, so he fumbles to expose himself and relaxes against the couch cushions behind him. The wet spot on his underwear displays just how profoundly turned on he is simply by the idea of being with Maia.

After all the temptation it’s endured this evening, his cock is extra sensitive, so he begins with measured, lazy strokes. Whilst he’d love to revel in the fantasy, he knows he won’t last long. As he imagines joining her in his bed, filling his palms with those half-exposed breasts he saw, pressing his naked body against her, his movements begin to speed up and his pressure increases. Very soon, he’s plummeting toward the edge of ecstasy like a podracer pilot with the finish line in sight.

His helmet tips back to stare at the ceiling as he pictures how it would feel to sink into her warm depths, and the notion ignites his fuse, burning rapidly. It only takes a few more strokes before the powder keg within him explodes into a million tiny raptures. His hips stutter, his muscles clench, and his orgasm tears through his body. He comes hard, and a fractured groan far louder than he’d intended escapes through the modulator as he spills forth his pleasure…

Fucking. Bliss.

Din’s mind is blank for some time, just a sense of fulfilment and contentment gently rippling throughout his relaxed form.

As the real world filters back in, he’s able to think clearly, and he now knows what he has to do. He doesn’t like it, but it’s the mature and sensible option. It’s also a fucking daunting prospect, but he’s faced worse. Has he? Yes, he has. He can do it.

He tucks himself away and finds a cloth to wipe down the mess on his flight suit. That task makes him realise he’ll have to sneak into his bedroom tomorrow without waking Maia to grab his armour and some fresh clothes. And now he really needs to do laundry tomorrow. The only pants he has left are the tighter ones, which he tries to avoid wearing around her. Great, there’s another reason to dread the morning. Although it’s not as if he’s ever caught her checking out his package – she may tease him verbally, but her gaze is always polite.

For now, he’ll enjoy the security of darkness and the lingering swirl of happy chemicals in his brain.

Din lays down on the couch and switches off the glowrod. With a deep sigh, he surrenders to the relaxing state of comfort brought on by his orgasm, letting himself fall into a contented sleep. Before he drifts off, his last thought is of Maia’s beautiful lips… leaning in for a kiss….

If only.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

[PART 2 COMING ON 1 JUNE 2024]

Those of you who've read my work before will be familiar with my copious end notes:

As usual, it’s British spellings I’m afraid. Demographic stats say about 60% of you are American, but I can’t help where I was born, so sorry about all the extra ‘u’s and ‘l’s and for using ‘s’ where you would expect ‘z’. However, I’ve channelled my inner linguist and used American language and speech patterns since the show is filmed in the US and Din’s accent is American. All other wording is internationally neutral, including Maia’s dialogue (since the next chapter is written from her POV and I’ll be switching to second person reader insert for that, e.g. you/your pronouns). I’m a little sad I didn’t get to include any Mando’a linguistics in this fic tbh. Maybe another time.

The cabin’s layout is inspired by the concept art by Christian Alzmann that appeared in the closing credits of s3e8, in which there appears to be a staircase leading down to a lower level. That makes sense to me, as Din would need total security to sleep without his armour on, and a windowless underground room seemed appropriate. I also like the parallel that on the Razor Crest he used to sleep on the lower level in a windowless room too.

I know Carl’s absence is going to be felt when we finally get the movie, so I wanted to write something where Karga is still around. If this had been a longer piece, I would’ve had him actually featuring in it instead of being in the background, but in any case, Karga lives forever in the universes I write.

The reference to Din wearing looser pants is, weirdly, Canon. One of the ways you can tell it’s Brendan Wayne in the suit is because he seems to prefer these weird baggy clown pants. Contrast to Pedro who likes them tight (Din Peña?), as does Lateef Crowder, and as did Barry Lowin in season 2. Since Brendan did the majority of season 3, we saw Din in the loose-fitting style a lot more, so I decided to write in a reason for that beyond actor preference.

Though we have no information on Nevarro’s judiciary system, they’re an independent world who have a marshal and a magistrate, so my guess is they’d adopt the New Republic’s system of having a tribunal. Generally, group decision-making is favoured during this era, in contrast to the single-judge system of the Imperial era, so it seems more likely that Karga would encourage citizens to serve on a tribunal rather than unilaterally passing judgments himself.

Apologies to @the-mandawhor1an for using the name of your longtime established OC – it was coincidental, I promise! I chose it after looking up the most common female names in the world, one of which is Maria, and I settled on the variant Maia because it sounded like a more Star Wars-y version (and for another reason which you’ll see in part 2). I only realised when you reblogged my WIP Wednesday snippet, and it was a bit late to change it by then. I guess it’s a common name in the SWU too! But I’m sorry and I hope you don’t feel like I’m muscling in on your domain. Your Maia is of course the original Maia 💖

I made the GIF myself. Sorry it’s a bit blurry, I’m not very good at making them yet. I tried to use Tumblr’s GIF-making function, but it wouldn’t let me crop out Grogu’s ears, so this was my alternative attempt. It’ll have to do.

Definitions: Comlinks are those little cylinder comms they all use. Glowrod is a catch-all term for anything portable that produces light. All the swears/insults (stinking stang, frotz, borked, kriff, kark) are from the Legends list of phrases and slang this time (it’s longer than Canon). Nevarran reptavians are the ones that Grogu saved Karga from in s1e7 and that the Mandalorians were roasting in s3e7. Ferrocrete is a compound building material (Canon and Legends) made from concrete and iron, used in roads, reinforced bunkers and building foundations. I figured Din would only be happy with something strong and defensible, so Karga had the cabin built with it. Transparisteel is used for windows and ship viewports, as well as helmet visors.

Part 2 is written and will be uploaded next weekend once proofing/editing is complete. What do we think? Is Din gonna be dumb and tell her she can’t babysit Grogu anymore? Deny himself what he wants for Maia’s own good?

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

@foomoosworld @jude77 @secretelephanttattoo @stagerightlauren @the-mandawhor1an

Those tagged below showed interest in my masterlist and WIP snippets (comments/reblogs), so I thought I’d sneak in some extra tags. Apologies if it’s too forward, if you’d prefer I didn’t tag you in part 2 just let me know…

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty

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elkyralt · 2 days

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I'm going to write this now as I'm watching the goodbye stream, to add my two cents and whatnot.

The community has always been a huge part of the project, if we put the actual server aside for one second. The fanart, fanfics, headcannons, theories, comics, analysis, videos, memes, all of it was just as important as the actual players and server happening. The community was as much the lifeblood of the project as the actors involved were, and for that I can give a big thank you to all of you in the QSMP tag reblogging and creating under QSMPblr. I've adored each passing moment here - that including the rougher eras because as a community I've seen very measured responses from people truly passionate about the purpose the QSMP was there to serve - to unite communities.

As I'm watching Quackity talking about the fact that even if the QSMP as a project has ended, his desire in bridging cultural and language gaps is still present and something he wants to continue creating for. So yes, even if the server is currently ending, what has been achieved will forever be present. I'd never even thought that I'd be in a community with so many different nationalities who are not afraid to express themselves in their own languages and cultures, and especially I'd never thought that I'd be eagerly waiting to congratulate mutuals on their national holidays and things like that. In that, it's made me want to get closer to my own culture since I've never really properly grown up where I come from and I think that is something to be cherished.

I'd never thought I'd rekindle my passion for language learning and now be able to watch videos and streams in Spanish to understand the majority of what's being said and laugh along in chat, nevermind that same passion being rekindled or created for thousands of others. We have so many languages here and it's insane to even think about isn't it? People in the community that speak: Portugese, French, English, Spanish, German, Korean and probably more! I've been trilingual for the major part of my life, and have known Italian really well for a long time on top of that, but the QSMP as a whole has opened up my perspective on language like I'd never thought anything could.

THAT BEING SAID. Thank you to the creators involved in the project. It was clear to me as early as from the first days - before the translator - when the creativity and passion of the creators broke through those initial barriers and helped form the meaningful connections we find today. The roleplayers that created stories and characters very near and dear to me are absolutely to be praised, personally, I'd say q!Cellbit, q!Roier and q!Etoiles are my favourite characters to come out of this and those that I will keep creating and blogging about. Every character that came out of this is incredible though, everyone even down to Jorgito the IV drip and Posolito the capybara are utterly, indisputably, definantly: peak. Im greatful to the duos or groups that have emerged thanks to the translator and opportunity, just a few examples being: Cellbit and Roier, Badboy and YD, Pierre and Maximus, Etoiles and Phil, Missa and Phil, Cellbit and Baghera, Tubbo and Pac, etcetera! All of these connections between CCs were really entertaining to watch, and all due to the QSMP.

ALSO THAT BEING SAID. Thank you to the actors behind the scenes doing as much of a part as the streamers themselves. The eggs were all absolutely wonderful as NPCs and breathed life into the server like no other. All of them, all portrayed such different characters with realistic personalities and struggles that to me have always been stupendous at staying in character at all points. Lullah, Chayanne, Richas, Tupperware (Dapper), Patitas de cheto (Bobby), Leo, Tillin, Juanna, Trump, Chunsik, Em, Pepito, Sunny, all of you eggos have made the QSMP an unforgettable experience, and you admins deserve to get recognition. Massive thanks also go to the designers, writers, actors and managers behind the project as well, just as important in keeping the server running and fresh in how it was.

General thanks to the project for achieving what it has. Uniting communities, creating an incredibly story and characters, opening mine and other's eyes to more diverse cultures, rekindling passion for language learning and just so much more shit I could talk about for hours. This server has been an incredible ride, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving it completely.

Of course, the QSMP was by no means perfect and I'm not trying to make it out to be. It has it's issues and I'm completely aware of that. I think the impact and beauty the server has had is something to be celebrated regardless because it's something on a scale not done before.

I'm still going to be here, posting and creating about this SMP even after it closes. I'm still gonna be here posting silly clips and making long posts like this one that will maybe get 5 notes - but that's fine with me. I'm proud to be part of this community and experience as a whole, since Day fucking 1 - and I regret none of it. To all the people I've met over this thank you so much for being the people you are, keep creating and learning.

Thank you, QSMP, QSMPblr and Quackity Studios.

#qsmp #qsmp pos #elk rambles #forgive me for such a long post #but I felt this whole adventure deserved a post like this because of how much its impacted my online life #i wont stop being a part of QSMPblr and posting clips and textposts and reblogging the fuck out of everything because I love it here #never change QSMPblr #thank you <3 #liveblogging #QSMP liveblogging #qsmpblr

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 1 day

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What I Want... Pt. 2 | William Killick x fem!reader

summary: Getting caught by your father was not exactly how you thought your night would end... you can think of a better way but fate has its way of interfering whenever it wants.

warnings: smut, age gap, taboo, war, death, losing one's virginity, body image, insecurity, dub con, penetration, unprotected, semi-public.

*I rewrote this fan fiction to be in the 2nd person because I've been so inspired by @queenshelby's style of writing. Let me know if you like this way better or if you prefer the old narration style ("I" or "she").

word count: 3740k

Just Wait Till Next Year- John Maus 🎵

Moon River- Frank Ocean 🎶

A light in your father’s bedroom switched on, illuminating the lace curtains in the window. Officer Killick looked up and cursed beneath his breath, loudly enough to alert you as you rested beside him.

“Oh no,” you gasped and grabbed your romper from the ground.

“It’s ok. Put on your clothes and do as I say,” William told you softly and buckled his pants. He found his dinner jacket and draped it over his arm, first removing a cigarette from the breast pocket and lighting up. You scrambled into your romper and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to settle the messy bird’s nest that your hair had become. William puffed on his cigarette briefly and once satisfied that it looked as if it had been smoked for longer than it actually had, gestured to the fountain behind them.

“Sit on the edge and put your feet in the water.” You did as you were told, swinging your legs over the side of the fountain and letting them sit in the deep water. The wetness between your legs became cold as you arranged herself on the cool stone.

“You came out here to apologize, we’ve been talking, I’ve been smoking. You’be been in the water this whole time, far away from me. Understand?” William spoke calmly and leaned against one of the trees near the fountain. Not so much as a second later, your father stepped through the screen door.

“Officer Killick, I hope-” your father stopped, having seen his daughter beside the fountain, “Y/N? I was expecting to find Officer Killick out here, not you. What are you doing in the fountain? Come out of there at once!”

You could almost see the movement of your father’s mustache flick from side to side as he reprimanded you.

“Yes, sir.” You swung your legs out of the fountain and stood, trying to hide how shaky they were when you stood still. The cover of darkness hid the muscle spasms that rippled across your body just beneath your skin.

“What were you doing out here?” Your father questioned you, beckoning with his large, doctorly hands.

“I was apologizing to Officer Killick. I was… rude at the dinner table and I wanted him to know that I was sorry for speaking to him in that way.” You glanced over your shoulder at the young officer, now standing alert, pretending as if the doctor’s presence had surprised him. William’s blue eyes penetrated the darkness, finding yours in the light and smiled. Everything was going to be ok, they said.

“It’s alright,” he looked at your father and nodded curtly, “no hard feelings. I apologize that I haven’t been the most polite to your daughter, sir. I’m afraid the air force has made me impartial to formalities.” His voice sounded easy and dignified, strong against the anxiety you both felt at their predicament.

“Not at all, Killick. I’m glad my daughter got an opportunity to speak with you. God knows the war’s been hard on all of us. At least you’ve made up.”

You were too unnerved to snort or laugh at all. All you could manage to do was smile and nod at your father, validating his oblivious perspective.

“I’ll go to bed now, goodnight Officer Killick, goodnight Papa.” You kissed your father briskly on the cheek and walked as normally as you could to the screen door. Only when you were inside did your legs give out their strength and you had to sit on the bench beside the door. When you were out of sight, your father spoke to the young man.

“I apologize for my daughter, Killick. She can get over-excited from time to time. Moving out of London seemed to change her in that regard. I hope she didn’t bother you too much out here.”

“Not at all, sir. I just needed a moment alone and the garden was irresistible. I had just finished a cigarette when she found me out here. No harm done.”

“Good, good.” You heard your father respond and imagined him nodding as William held his second cigarette between two fingers.

“I came to speak to you about something important,” your father started to break an uncomfortable silence.

“Yes, sir?” William cleared his throat and stubbed out his cigarette. More silence fell between the two men, you tried to steady your hands on your knees as you listened.

“After our discussion at dinner, it is hard to approach this topic again but I received a letter this afternoon. I was going to tell you at dinner but the moment seemed inappropriate. I decided I was going to tell you tomorrow or perhaps the day after, but I found that I could not sleep without informing you.”

You strained your neck towards the door to hear more clearly. Your father cleared his throat and aligned his weight between his feet. William furrowed his stoic brow and braced himself for bad news. All he could think about was the lingering smell of your skin in his nose as he watched the doctor struggle to convey his news.

“It is my duty to inform you that you have been awarded the George Cross for your bravery and courage in combat.”

William was silent as he processed what the doctor was saying. He fought against his instinct to spit and reject the award, a phony piece of medal to distract him from what he had done and witnessed in the war. You stopped yourself from gasping as you heard the news through the door.

“What about my men who died during those days on the Greek islands? Will they be rewarded for their sacrifice?” William tried not to sneer as he asked. He wished he had a cigarette again.

“The British men who were with you after you crash landed and gave their lives to the crown will receive this award as well, posthumously. You are the only survivor, as you know, so you are the only one who will receive this award in your lifetime. Will you accept it?” Your father sighed as he finished. William looked down at his feet and bit his lip. What kind of Officer would he be if he accepted an award that celebrated his life, his survival when he couldn’t keep his own men alive?

“I need to think about it,” William responded, suddenly tired and sore, as he remembered the brunt weight of his survivor’s guilt.

You took your opportunity to climb the stairs and find your bedroom in the dark hallway. Once inside, you stared at yourself in the mirror of your boudoir. Your right hand traced invisible lines around your body as you looked to see if anything had changed. You’d just lost your virginity to a war hero, the thought sounded preposterous, unreal. You looked the same in all ways physically, but you felt like a heavy weight had been taken off your shoulders, as if your own virginity was a chore of its own. What about you had turned him on? Why had he given into your seduction? If one could even call it seduction… You unzipped the romper for a second time that evening and held it between your forefingers and thumbs.

A part of you never wanted to wash it, just like a part of you never wanted to see the Officer again. How did adults do this? How were you supposed to act like nothing had happened between you? It would be easier if you never had to see him again in your father’s house. His eyes held every memory and image of your body, something no one had ever seen but him. Even you hadn’t seen the entirety of your own naked body, only he had. However, there was an overwhelming part of you that wanted to run to him and feel as close to him as you had minutes before. Not just to be taken once again by him but to be had and held by him. You wanted to be his.

Don’t be stupid, you scolded yourself. Tearing your eyes from the mirror, you dressed for bed and felt discomforted by the normalcy of the activity. You’d just experienced something incredible, how could you just put on your pajamas and crawl into bed as if nothing had happened. You felt totally different, mature and ready to be a person with confidence and power like any man. Officer Killick had made you feel powerful, he’d shown you that you weren't a child, limited to discussions of table manners and tea sets. You were on your way to university to be your own person, even a sexual person if you so liked.

Footsteps on the stairs quieted your thoughts. You tried to sit still beneath your obnoxiously large pink comforter but as the minutes dragged on, you found it harder and harder to ignore your proximity to the man you’d just lost your virginity to. Officer Killick climbed the stairs behind the doctor and nodded his head goodnight as he turned into his room down the hallway. The doctor’s door clicked closed and William could hear the lock slip into place before he closed his own door. William leaned his forehead against his bedroom door and sighed hallowly into the grain. The doctor’s news had overshadowed the preceding events of the night, events that had triggered feelings he thought he was no longer capable of. He knew it was wrong of him to have done what he did. He was nearly seven years older than you and he was your first sexual experience. It was only fair that he was met with memories of war, memories of his failure, a failure everyone else refused to acknowledge. He’d led his men into death, he was the reason they were all dead. He was a bad man. He didn’t deserve the award nor that sweet, spoiled brat of a girl who’d come to him in the garden to apologize. He should be apologizing. He should apologize.

A soft knock on the other side of his bathroom door startled him. William made no rush to open it, already knowing that you would be in the doorway with your bright, beautiful eyes, ready to seduce him for a second time that night. When he opened the door, however, you were on the other side dressed for bed in your red and white striped pajamas. Your hair was brushed and bore no resemblance to the state it had been in before.

“Y/N,” William whispered your name like an exhale, relieved in some strange way, to see you standing before him. It was an image of normalcy that he craved, a distraction from the memories that clouded his head to the point that he felt he was trapped in a glass prism, seeing everything through a pane of glass. One look at the young Officer was all you needed to know that he was negatively affected by the news your father had told him. What you thought was great news wasn’t so for William. You balanced on the balls of your feet and swung your arms around William’s neck, nestling your face between his neck and collarbone. At first he was stunned. He leaned back in surprise, taking you with him as he did. Your stomach crushed against his as he regained his balance and realized what you were doing.

You were hugging him.

Slowly he returned your embrace, running his hands over your back to hug around your waist. His eyes closed as he ducked his head into the shelf of your shoulder and inhaled deeply. William smelled like the backyard and the sultry musk of English cigarettes.

“What’s this for?” He whispered against your neck, making the hair there prickle as if you had been struck by lightning.

“Thank you, Killick,” you mumbled without adding any further explanations. William blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, taking a second to understand what you meant. When he did, he pulled away and set you back down gently. You looked up at the Officer, confused and hurt that he’d broken the embrace so soon. William pinched the bridge of his nose and put one hand on his hip, shifting his dinner jacket to the side.

“Y/N, what we did was a mistake,” he started, his hand still covering his eyes, “that shouldn’t have been how it happened for you.”

“What do you mean?” You crossed your arms across your chest, hiding the bareness of your breasts beneath the thin cotton shirt.

William opened his eyes and shook his head. When he finally met your eyes, his voice sounded distracted and unorganized as if we didn’t know what he was saying himself.

“I’m not a good man, Y/N.” William cut you off as you started to negate his claim. “No, no you need to listen to me. You only know who I am now. You didn’t see who I was in the war. I- I’ve done things, Y/N. Things you should never know about even if you wanted to know. Your first time shouldn’t have been with me because you deserve better. You deserve a good man. A man that, well, a man that killed others with the hands he touches you with now…” William’s blue eyes looked as if they were glowing as a cat’s does in the dark. You shivered despite the heat and bit your lip. When you could tell that he was done, you pressed a hand against his chest. He looked down dumbly at it as you slid it up his lapel to his cheek, no stubble and scars. As you cupped his cheek he closed his eyes and leaned into it, defenseless.

“I don’t want to say,” you started, “but would it be enough to tell you that I am truly grateful to have met you and done what we did together?” Your voice was soft and childish as you comforted the man who’d grown to mean so much more to you in so little time. William kept his eyes closed, hiding the swell of tears that pooled behind his eyelids. When he didn’t say anything, you continued.

“A good man cannot be blamed for what he did when the unspeakable was asked and required of him. Would a bad man have taken me so gently and so tenderly as you did? Would a bad man still be recognized for his bravery after losing his entire squadron in a catastrophe?” You asked genuinely and slowly he opened his eyes, and looked deep into your eyes.

“You don’t know what a bad man can be,” he responded quietly and your heart broke for the man. You two stared at each other in silence for what felt like forever until you wrapped your arms around his neck again and William instinctively picked you up. Still without saying anything, William set you down on his bed, a uniquely shaped bed that was slightly wider than a twin-sized bed. He sat down beside you and you watched calmly as he removed his jacket and folded it over the arm of the chair near the bed. Next he removed his cufflinks and put them inside a small dish on his nightstand. William caught you staring at them and showed one to you.

“They were from my father. He gave them to me before I shipped out to the continent,” he twirled the small golden knot between his fingers. “There’s a tiny compass in the middle of the knot, do you see?” He gave it to you so you could look closer at the intricate design.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered honestly and he nodded thoughtfully.

“They were my father’s in the Great War. He served in the Royal Air Force. I followed in his footsteps and as far as he was concerned, I lived up to his expectations.”

“Why didn’t you go back home after the war?” You returned the cufflink and William studied it distractedly.

“He died,” that was all he offered and you resisted the urge to hold him once again.

“I’m sorry,” you said instead and looked down at your hands. William reached for one of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. He stared out the window, directly opposite of him and breathed deeply. You studied his profile in the light, noticing the freckles that dotted his cheekbones. You fought a primal urge to kiss him again, to devour him completely. Finally, he turned his face to meet your gaze and looked down briefly at your lips. To took that as an invitation and kissed him with a short but slow kiss. When you pulled back, William slid his hand into your hair at the back of your head and curled his fingers towards your scalp. You raised up on your knees and moved him further back against the headboard. Then straddling his stomach as he propped himself up against the headboard, you kissed him again. You took your time and you could feel the Officer relax beneath you as you savored the taste of his mouth, the size and softness of his lips, and the intimacy of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth every once in a while.

His hands settled on your waist beneath your pajama shirt. Your hands sought out the muscles in his arms beneath his dress shirt, tracing the taught ridges with the pads of your fingers. William leaned you back where you rested on his legs as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. His white undershirt further exposed his muscles and you hid a gasp of admiration when you saw them. William saw your reaction and raised a playful eyebrow.

“My muscles? That’s what you like? Really? Women.” He rolled his eyes in a jovial manner and pulled you back to his chest. Smiling, you stood on his bed, your feet planted on either side of his legs. He looked up at you with a smirk and leaned back against the headboard. Looking down at him, you slowly unbuttoned your top, starting from the bottom. As your shirt opened, William’s pupils grew in size. The soft flesh of your stomach in the light turned him on, the way your hands handled the pearly white buttons…

“What are you doing?” William whispered with a disbelieving smirk. You didn’t answer as you opened the shirt, exposing your breasts to him in the light. The soft pink buds puckered above him and William ran a hand over his mouth, his eyes fixed on your chest. Seeing his reaction, you ran a hand down your chest to the waistband of your bottoms. William gasped softly when your hands disappeared beneath the striped fabric and played with the soft mound of your cunt.

“Y/N…” William’s voice was harsh and broken as he watched, unable to look away. You slipped a finger into your own cunt, seeing if you could replicate the feeling that he had made you experience before. Adding a second finger, you started to feel it, and moaned softly. Your head fell back and in your moment of weakness, William caught your other wrist and pulled you back down. Removing your fingers quickly, you held him so you wouldn’t fall off the bed as he laid you down beneath him. He’d abandoned any and all reason as he pulled your hands harshly and fumbled with the latch of his trousers.

You squirmed beneath him as he clamped a hand over your mouth and withdrew his erection with his other hand. Barely spreading your legs for him, he thrusted his cock inside your cunt without any prep. His pants weren’t even off as he started fucking you deeply with the feverish passion of a teenage boy. His face was inches from yours as he panted, glancing down every so often to see how his cock slid inside you.

“Get a good look, sweetheart. This is what a bad man looks like,” he whispered darkly against your ear and bashed his hips harshly against your pelvis. You moaned behind his large hand. Your own hands gripped the material of his undershirt, your nails penetrating the fabric and pinching his skin. The pain made him fuck you harder and tousling his hair. The hand that wasn’t clamped on your mouth grabbed the top of the headboard. You stared at each other, your eyes connected with some invisible bond, pulling you closer and closer together.

“Fuck…” William whispered under his unstable breath. When you moaned loudly, he hushed you with a small smirk, “inside voice, sweetheart.”

You could feel him inside you, hitting the back of something, but you didn’t know what. Each time he did, you wanted to cry out in pleasure. You moaned his name behind his hand but he could still hear you and smiled in response.

“I’m almost there,” he whispered, holding his mouth open in a silent moan. The bed creaked quietly around you and you wondered if your father would hear it from his room down the hall. You finished twice before he even finished once, your eyes rolling back into your head. You whimpered from the raw and newfound pleasure, more powerful than any sensation you’d ever felt before, even when you finished earlier in the backyard. His ragged breaths grew slightly louder and somehow his cock felt larger as it felt like you were both about to explode.

“Fuck, I can’t cum inside you,” he realized suddenly and grunted in frustration. Before he could pull out, you wrapped your arms around his back and shifted his hand from your mouth.

“Do it,’ you pleased as quietly as you could as you panted. William looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you nodded what felt like seconds later, he came inside you. It felt warm and sticky inside, satisfying. When he was done, William wiped your hair from your sweaty forehead and kissed you. You had single-handedly saved him, fixed him, recreated him. He felt like a man again. He felt like a human again.

Keeping himself inside you, William kissed your neck admired your face with visible pleasure etched into the glimmer of his pale blue eyes.

“Maybe you’re not such a spoiled brat after all,” William smiled down at you.

“We’ll see about that…” you whispered breathlessly and pulled him in for a kiss.

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader #fanfiction #cillian fanfic #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #smut #the edge of love #william killick #officer killick #keira knightley #historical fiction #1940s #young cillian murphy #cillian fluff #peaky blinders #cillian murphy fanfiction #thomas shelby

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beezlebubs-art · 3 days

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(DO NOT HARRAS THIS PERSON, JUST IGNORE THEM. ALSO GARTIC PHONE THING WASN'T THEM)

Piacere, space, whatever you go by, you said you wouldn't mention anyone from this, or at least that was what the deal was, I hope you were told about it. We'd not mention you, as long as you wouldn't mention us. But you did, so a new callout post with new points, people defending you don't really do a good job. TLDR: they blame everything on mental health, takes little fault for hurting people because of said mental issues, vents to people decently younger than them constantly, and they demand boundaries, but get extremely upset when anyone asks for them to do so for them.

NOTE I didn't directly see any of this, I'm doing this to defend my friends because, no offense, they are kinda letting themselves get walked all over. If anything is wrong please tell me. Do not harass anyone in this situation, no one deserves it.

First up a recap on the first situation with a new moral because talking to your friend made it more obvious what the issue was, you blaming mental health. My friends silver and JJ banned someone from wheezle's easel for in their mind being toxic, the other mods including piacere and their friends didn't feel the person was that bad, but instead of voicing that they went on a rant at how they were never listened to. Even when given an opportunity to unban the person piacere went on about not being listened to while actively ignoring their attempts at giving them an input. They caused my friends to have anxiety attacks and cry, yes they apologized, but only after saying my friends were horrible people. I don't know how you go from that to sorry in a few days and mean that apology. Proof under this, and another situation and perspectives of other people on them.

Now for the new situation i heard of, they were in my friend's server, velon's, and they'd do their constant venting. They were asked to not mention suicide so often and got really upset. More stuff must have happened because like, everyone there says how they would make them super stressed out with how often they'd beg for attention and do things like make sex jokes with people who were uncomfortable with it. Here's people's opinions on it and also i'd check out Typhoonclade's post on them here for more opinions.

Generally they'd vent everywhere around like 16-18 year olds as an almost 20 year old. they'd constantly cry about not getting attention while they got a lot of attention from at least half the active members in our server. And also a lot of weird sexual stuff that granted is hearsay to me but tbhI don't care anymore, there's no way two unrelated people have similar stories. Here's some other stuff of them being mean about people and attention seek-y I have.

Piacere, you won't read this tbh, but just get off the internet, its clear you can't handle it, and you hurt people, for everyone's good, please just get offline. I know real life sucks for you, you'd say it a lot man, but its not an excuse to hurt people who aren't doing anything to you. Just, idk what you should do, other than leave the wider internet.

#my singing monsters #can you stop upsetting my friends please

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stickseaon · 1 day

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Outsiders talks ( from the perspective of someone from Oklahoma)

Dallas Winston would NOT be boyfriend of the year 😭 dude is constantly in an out of jail and probably has a shit ton of issues, personally I cannot see dally ever holding a stable relationship bc dally himself isn't stable in life. He's a product of his environment and probably doesn't know what a healthy relationship is to begin with

I also cannot stand the way the fandom treats johnny, most of the fanfics I've seen make johnny out to be a shy soft little baby that needs to be protected at all times and so sweet and innocent he was a good kid yeah but he was also a greaser and still hung out with the people he did it's so annoying when people act like the dude couldn't hold himself up 😭 he literally killed a man and cared a switch in his pocket and said he'd kill the next person who tried him. Let Johnny be bitchy!! Let him have a personality outside the gang!! His whole plot in the books is that he was more than some greaser kid whose parents beat up on him, stop missing that point of his story and dumbing him down to a bland and basically peronsalityless character😭 ( personally I hc that johnny while he loved the gang, found their watchful eyes of him a little annoying. Johnny was a 16 year old boy and had taken care of himself his whole life)

This is oklahoma in the 60s they were all a little awful and hick

I also like the headcanons that the shepherds were not white, I don't have a specific headcanon from them but a lot of places in Oklahoma have a lot of native and Hispanic and black people ( especially Tulsa in the 60s) most not white people lived in the more shady parts of town bc that was all they could afford, this is the 60s and oklahoma it was WILDY RACIST ( and still kind of is) so it makes sense for the greasers to be diverse

Also!! Buck and Sylvia and literally any character outside the Curtis gang!! I wish we'd seen more of them I love Buck Sylvia with all my heart and wish we'd at least gotten a snippet of what their lives were like

#the outsiders #dally winston #buck merrill #sylvia the outsiders #johnny cade #tim shepherd

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zeevoidlight · 2 days

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I think Vegeta was a virgin up until he met Bulma.

I know, what a freaking way to start an argument but blame reddit for asking and leading me to a trail of autism thoughts, and I will also talk about Vegeta's attraction to Bulma and viceversa when they first met. Like, how tho. Albeit from a demisexual perspective (or asexual, idk anymore really).

/////

Some might believe that because of his attitude, his raw power, his Saiyan heritage, his status as conqueror of planets, genocidal maniac, sociopath extraordinare, his military background and his ruthlessness and uncaring nature, Vegeta was raping people left and right, or that he has always been very sexually active, or at least had some experience regarding the matter.

But be honest, he was too dense with everything from his childhood traumas and his vengeance against Frieza to care about having sex, or having a relationship with anyone in any capacity.

Also he is too proud and values his Saiyan heritage too much to give anyone he didn't deem worthy the privilege to have sex with him, let alone risk the possibility of an offspring. At least that's how I see Vegeta being pre Namek and pre dying against Frieza having to confront and accept by force an overwhelming amount of feelings on a rollercoaster for the first time in years. Dude didn't even thought two times to kill Nappa and let Raditz rot instead of reviving him as the last remainings of his people, that's how dense he was prior. He was so proud that he didn't mind to be the only Saiyan left alive and probably preferred it that way. Nappa that one time suggested to him that they could revive the Saiyan race by mixing with earthlings and Nappa was ready to pound (consensual or not) and Vegeta is like "nah, are you crazy? I wouldn't like to have a child being stronger than me". Dude probably had the opportunity to do so some other times but rejected the thought, he doesn't sound interested at all, first thinking on other things than sex.

Of course he wasn't oblivious to it like Goku though and was well aware because he's not stupid. Outside of the English dub he notices Bulma on Namek and even refers to her as gorgeous, or pretty earthling woman. So I guess he still had a sexual notion but in other ways. He was not innocent of mind is what I'm saying. Like, he must have known what flipping the bird means. Is probably not that he didn't knew what sex was and desired it at some point or joked about it like I guess they'd do in Frieza's army but he was just not interested on acting on it for real at that time.

But then, after Frieza died and everything that happened after his disaster visit to Earth and Namek, after loosing literally everything and having no purpose anymore other than wait and find Goku to best him, and after having realized more of himself in vulnerable ways trying to find some sense of normality in who he perceived he was, here comes Bulma all confident, infatuated and aggressive with him, because of course she like the bad boys and because Vegeta let his guard down for one second and let Bulma be Bulma while he literally couldn't do anything but go along (I suppose Piccoro was the only one that could have fight him if he tried anything). And he already found her attractive too in a way, not only that but she was probably the first woman that wasn't scared of him and even challenged him, treating him as an equal and as just another person, flirting with him openly, living with her and her family as a guest which is a completely different context to what he had been doing to survive his medium.

His interactions with Bulma

So just so happens that now he can think on other things that aren't killing Frieza and escaping his rulership. He had to learn this new types of interactions and how to deal with them in his own way, and that includes how to approach someone that he felt attracted to. Who knows if he had other people he felt that attraction towards, probably, but Bulma is the one that basically said "yeah, I'm down if you want".

The fact that he calls her "vulgar" when she first flirted with him says a lot of how he would not engage with just anyone because of his pride as a prince and a Saiyan, and how she probably was the first to even flirt with him openly. How he says she is "loud" and called her "woman" also says that he was more likely annoyed by the idea of women as gender like it often happens, belittling them and all. While on the other hand Bulma constantly challenged him on it once they got to Earth, forcing him to address the topic as we see several times, being strong against him. Like (again I'm going with the Latin version since I've heard is more accurate to the japanese version), Bulma says to him "and what about you, small one", and he's like "what?!... She called me small one?..." (in japanese she just calls him Vegeta-kun, like a pet name), he was not willing to dignify the provocation huffing to Bulma's invitation after but didn't menace her nor got aggressive or sarcastic like he would with someone else. But then she said "I'm going to give you a lot of food. Bet you eat as much as Goku, am I wrong? haha!... But I'm not going to allow you fall in love with me even if you find me very attractive", and is in this moment where you can see Vegeta's wtf face entering panic mode resorting to insult her under his breath as if she could see through him. Is right here where you see that he doesn't really know how to react to someone flirting and is debating between bursting in anger or run away but just ends up paralyzed because his ego won't let him move. (in japanese he reacts by muttering "what a vulgar woman! and how loud she is (being)!")

Then they go to Bulma's house and Vegeta just tags along. It seems that going through Namek with the earthlings, helping each other and cooperating like his life depended on it was an experience for a lifetime. My man can't seem to get a rest from one wft after the other since he arrived to Earth because the next thing that happens is that Bulma's mother comes to him faster than light startling him and says "[]...I imagine you must be Bulma's boyfriend. You ARE charming. And it looks like you are trendy". And the only thing he can muster to reply back is "t-trendy?" (I find it funny that that's what he reacted to and not to being called Bulma's boyfriend XD)

Vegeta's disinterest and rejection is part of why I think Bulma was interested on him. Because the interactions Bulma has had with men in general throughout the entirety of the series have been... very poor to say the least. Men want take advantage of Bulma in one way or another but more often than not sexually (I mean just being in Roshi's general vicinity is more than enough for anyone), or they see her as a "thing" for themselves, a trophy. (this one bellow was so terribly stressful, my god...)

And Bulma's approach to men is a similar as well because she is clearly very superficial too and that has remained a constant since day one. (jesus, bulma)

And Vegeta wasn't interested on taking her like that, on the contrary he pushed her away despite being interested (which I bet Bulma knew), and also he had greater objectives he wanted to pursue, focused (on surpassing Goku...), determined, and that was the difference. He doesn't seem like the type of guy that would try to get an opportunity to peek through the shower window seeking to get a glimpse of her like we have seen others do (although, Bulma did saw him through the shower doors), or disrespect her in any physical way. Far from it, his reactions with her are getting all nervous, speechless, flustered, he follows her (because in a way he does respect her character and leadership), aggressively rejecting her at the same time (trying to negate his feelings to go back to the status quo), calling her names, and Bulma isn't taking none of that because she doesn't believe that bs he's spouting and she knows he likes her (like, who wouldn't, as she probably tells herself), even plays with it sarcastically and either brushes it off or dares him to say it again.

He lets her get close to him but cautiously (the comparison to a stray cat is not too farfetched). He knows what Bulma wants but just now he has found someone that confronts him about it without fear or shame, he has now the mental space to think about it and needs to respond to it somehow, he is interested back too, he's aroused by her as well. That flinch he does when she touches him while going into fight or flight mode again, and the famous sexy finger movement technique on Bulma's part that completely seeks to throw him off and serve as an invitation that he quietly accepts (even before she yells at him to stop gawking and not let a damiselle wait) by being passive and following her lead to the surprise of everyone in the scene. (Also, I never totally understood why Bulma's mom was spilling the tea in the background at that moment but I suspected it was because it meant to signify Vegeta and Bulma were "cooking" and very into each other, and not just her being careless and aloof tho using that as a way to convey it).

She's measuring him with every interaction they have from the moment they got back to Earth onward, to see how far he's willing to allow her go, and hitting him with another wtf reaction every now and then to trow him off. Even going as far as put him in ridiculous and assert HER dominance. Because is not that he couldn't have just blasted everyone away with every step but little by little both were forming a connection. The scene of the pink shirt, after Vegeta gets offended by the style she says "If you don't want them you can walk around nude"... D: (his pikachu face was better than mine though, and then he says "damn, she's very rude"). I mean... is there anything more clear than that. (side note: Trunks says that after his arrival Yamcha was going to be unfaithful to Bulma but no man, That's what future Bulma told him but is more likely that it was her the one that left him for Vegeta that day, way before Trunks arrived. Even on Namek she already was over him, thinking of Goku and how she lost her train with him, then with Zarbon, and finally Vegeta. Yamcha never really had Bulma, and he didn't do much to get her back either or change. Truth is Bulma is the crazy one).

And while I find Super's tsundere Vegeta in some instances fun to watch, more with him and Goku to be honest, but I don't think Z Vegeta was taking it in such a juvenile way, he's more adult and mature still about the situation, as mature as someone calling a girl "woman" to assert dominance that is. The flirting "dance" towards their sexual encounter is more silent and elegant, just like two adults would do so. He wants to get closer but the only thing the dude has known his entire life is fighting and being on offense mode all the time. Their dynamic is quite interesting and quite amazing, not for nothing they are considered to be one of if not the best couple in anime, and trying to unravel how it all started is really fun.

But yeah, As I see it and if we could compare Vegeta's sexuality to something from real life he, as most saiyans, was probably demi-sexual (yay), since it's said that Saiyan's don't understand romance and they likely only had sex to reproduce. They didn't had the concept of family outside of the royal family. And that's why also Vegeta is one of the few saiyans that later could develop an understanding of family and being in a relationship in a way other saiyans don't, including Goku.

So yeah, that's my terminally online post of the day. Nothing but Dragon ball and Vegeta on my mind lately.

I would like to get into analyzing Goku and Vegeta's sexuality soon too. It's so interesting as well because is not traditional.

#vegeta #bulma #dragon ball z #character analysis #is this vegebul?#because who else am I going to talk about this with

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