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wlfpet · 1 year

Text

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

— PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table.

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends.

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean.

And somehow, despite everything, it worked.

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago.

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!”

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed.

“Not interested, sorry.”

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off.

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit.

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?” She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence.

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay. She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way.

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod.

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns.

“-And, and! I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.”

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one.

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed.

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily.

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest.

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery.

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed.

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house.

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off.

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room.

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs.

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

It’s fun being sardonic sometimes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass. She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well. Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell.

–

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right?

Whatever.

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.”

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely.

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing.

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body.

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in.

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall.

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies.

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum. Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up.

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line.

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it.

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.”

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity.

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin.

You jumped.

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage.

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself.

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.”

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed.

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants.

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands.

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness.

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips.

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots.

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.”

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real.

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly.

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more.

She obliged.

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else.

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection.

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly.

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it.

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold.

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow.

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers.

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it.

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again. You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes.

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone.

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile. Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants.

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips.

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint.

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on.

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming.

Yeah.

#tiki writes #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson ff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby tlou smut #abby smut #abby anderson x female reader

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tcfactory · 3 months

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I was talking with someone the other day and it got me thinking about something.

I generally run with the idea that part of the reason why Luo Binghe became THE target for Shen Qingqiu's abuse was because Shen Qingqiu fell for the 'white sheep' routine. Like, it was a lot of things all together: coming to the sect at an unfortunate time (Shen Qingqiu was in a mental health freefall because he was at a bottleneck and struggling to form his core, and here comes Luo Binghe with his perfect aptitude who's expected to blitz through all of the hurdles Shen Qingqiu sweated blood to scale), the pettiness he felt towards Liu Qingge when he picked Luo Binghe out (another bitter association), Luo Binghe having Ning Yingying right away as a friend and support (who stuck with him even against her shizun's orders!!) when Shen Qingqiu was all alone, the jealousy that however briefly Luo Binghe had a loving mother

and the crown jewel on this cake was that Luo Binghe, despite having suffered the death of a loved one and poverty on the streets, still seemed like a naive little ray of sunshine. And no matter what Shen Qingqiu does to him, he remains pathetic and vulnerable in the way that makes kinder people want to take care of him and protect him.

Shen Qingqiu is not a kind man and he knows intimately that the world isn't kind either. Not to pathetic children who don't grow up with the power of a rich family to put them somewhere safe where they can become pathetic, maybe well-meaning maybe not adults. To him it's the harbinger of failure.

The Luo Binghe he sees after picking him up is not smart, not crafty in the way he expects a street kid to be. He's not driven (wanting to make his late mother proud... motivation like that ought to fade with the memories. In four or five years Luo Binghe won't even recall the face or voice of his beloved mother and then Shen Qingqiu will be left with a child with no drive whatsoever). All Luo Binghe has going for him is his bright eyed optimism and his servile nature (which cannot, should not last in a cultivator) and his exceptional aptitude, which is useless on its own.

I struggle to believe that Luo Binghe was the first on the peak who was naturally talented (Shen Qingqiu's ruined cultivation base put him so far behind that even with his hard work, he lagged behind Shang Qinghua whose cultivation is mediocre at best). Or the first to have a support network of friends or a loving family. And as much as Shen Qingqiu resented them for having these gifts that he didn’t, he never tried to destroy them the way he tried to destroy Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe has all the tools of greatness and the hallmarks of failure all in one and it's that combination that triggers Shen Qingqiu's hate. Shen Qingqiu, in his rush to spite Liu Qingge, picked up trash that glitters. He can never admit to this mistake, so he decides that he's going to drive off Luo Binghe or destroy him, whichever happens first, because he can't imagine being stuck with this, this... pathetic little beast. One way or another, he will get rid of him before he can become a stain on Shen Qingqiu's reputation.

And we know how all of that turned out...

But what if he did see through it. Luo Binghe slipped up in his introduction and Shen Qingqiu immediately saw him for the white lotus that he was.

Shen Qingqiu knows the world, he knows its monsters and its beasts. So he looks at this child (not as weak and battered from his life on the street as others, the promise of strength and a bright future written in his meridians) pretending to be small and weak and pathetic and he's terrified.

Only the most dangerous predators pretend to be prey. He took a cuckoo into his nest, he accepted a wolf into his flock. Now it's his job to deal with it, before it grows fangs and bites the hand that feeds it.

He doesn't trust his martial siblings to listen to him on this, to hear him (unpleasant and sharp and biting, hated and hateful) out over the little beast (teary eyed and pathetic, pretty little thing you want to take home and keep safe).

He always did hide his fear the best with hate.

He will wear down this intruder until he can find out what his goal is and destroy him, before the beast can destroy them first.

It's almost a relief, when Luo Binghe stands on the edge of the abyss, his sheepskin torn and staring at him with the resentful eyes of a demon. It's the one moment when he doesn't hate Luo Binghe; he is a demon who will act as a demon does, as is his nature.

Pushing him into oblivion is

relief.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #luo binghe #after reading the extras I'm kinda leaning towards the second now #it's still up for interpretation if he really did see something or it's a self-fulfilling prophecy made by his paranoia #but tbh I don't think even shen yuan could make a good person out of binghe #like the wedding extra is kinda proof that binghe can't even be a good person to the one he loves and loves him in return #so yeah... I might do something with this eventually

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lopposting · 7 months

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On the freckles + Geppetto (Spoilers below)

Geppetto saying "it looks like you inherited his personality instead of his memories" is very very suspicious, and he says "personality" with such disdain - if you were a father who loved their child, wouldn't you want them to retain their core persona of who they were, than remember exactly everything from your past? I don't know, is it just me, or doesn't it feel like it's more important? I know memories make us who we are, but it still really came across as a deliberate piece of dialogue to word

Geppetto didn't want Carlo back, he specifically wants an obedient version of him, the rotting/preserved corpse body puppet is to show that Carlo was long gone. Remember that one of the most important decisions in the game is granting Sophia "her peace", which is her having the choice to end her own life. And then the nameless puppet is revealed, and it's as if Carlo is being kept alive against his own will (like as Simon does with Sophia). no wonder carlo didn't like him, the really disturbing thing is that nameless puppet still defies Geppetto in the end which suggests that it/(he??) is still somewhat conscious?? .. wat.

Another Character design I've noticed... and this is me making BIG leaps, by the way, I don't mean to make any statement on korean culture as a whole, but skin has a lot of symbolic meaning, and importance, in korean society. I know every country has stuff like this, but it seems really significant here considering this is a korean studio, ill try to get into why

P has very noticeable freckles on his skin, I can even say that they're hard to ignore (especially his right cheek), they're even visible in promotional material. and the irony is that he possesses these "flaws" and is more human-like despite being "artificial", he also has visible pores!! something completely natural, human, that stringent societal norms might deem as "imperfect"

Freckles can be seen as "imperfections" in korean culture (I mean I can only guess, and I suppose this negative perception is a little the same in the west as well?), they have this term called "glass skin" which is what is deemed as the "ideal": zero blemishes, really even tone, and often lighter in tone is seen as "beautiful", and there's a lot of pressure to be that way. It's a really pervasive idea that I don't think I am in the position to really talk about, and I don't mean to demean the culture, it's not like this is exclusive to korea/asia, I'm just mentioning it to explain this in the context of the game

And then "Carlo" doesn't have ANY of these things. He has "PERFECT" skin, those freckles are just gone. I feel like this isn't just a mistake. it kind of gets a message across about Geppetto's real intentions in reviving him. I mean, it's possible that maybe it's more of a siblings situation, and Carlo simply just didn't have freckles? but if you think about it from a storytelling perspective, remember that Geppetto refers to him as "mischievous", an odd translation maybe, but everything else suggests that the real Carlo was actually deeply defiant of his father while he was alive, again I think it sends a message about Giuseppe re-creating his son but without the things he saw as "flaws" in his son that he didn't like

yeah... loving this game more and more by the day

#lies of p #LOP #choi ji won on that king shit #spoilers #lies of P spoilers #theory #tw suicide mention #spoiler

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mdhwrites · 5 months

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How would you envision Sasha and Marcy parents without outright making them abusive parents

So I've actually gone at length about Sasha's parents already while defending the concept that trying to blame Sasha's parents for her baggage is actually a really bad point of view that goes against the core messages of the show. To reiterate though: I think Sasha's parents likely were very soft with her. When assholes complain about parents coddling their kids, they're thinking of the Waybrights. They called her special, their princess and such a brave girl. They tried their best to make her feel like everything was fine, even though they hated each other.

This made when they got a divorce all the more surprising to Sasha than it already could have been because from her point of view, she was already living in a fantasy. Worse yet is that suddenly all of the nice words had a strange taste to them. She wasn't their little darling, it was now Daddy's darling. Mommy's little girl. They were still sweet and cared about her but that care very well could have been twisted by the hate they had for each other. They wanted Sasha to make sure that she picked one of them specifically. That she had a favorite.

This isn't good, I've never tried to claim Sasha's parents were paragons, simply that they were only flawed. In this interpretation, we do see where Sasha got examples for how her behavior would be. Manipulation and a fragility of connection. That she would do anything to keep those close to her, those she loved, even platonically, right there so this never happened to her again. She saw the follies of her parents and walked right along their path due to the fear she herself had because of it. Mixed with her narcissistic behavior and it's a dangerous combination.

But as always: It was still her choice to walk down that path. These are not parents who told her that the only sort of friendship you could have was a controlling, manipulative one. They told her she could be anything she wanted and she chose to be a queen so that the only real emotional harm she'd ever known would never happen again.

Okay, now for Marcy's which... Unfortunately are much, MUCH harder to crack. All we know is that they were willing to uproot for the sake of the future of the family and Marcy but Marcy is the most underdeveloped of the trio. We don't really get a lot of depth out of her. We know she's got kind enough parents that despite her likely having broken three Switches in as many of years, she still keeps getting new ones, same goes for anything else's she broken due to being clumsy, and that they are a bit distant since her connection with her friends are better than her connection to her parents, hence why she chooses them over her family.

Now a quick wrench in all of this: This was their last year of middle school. The trio were all about to have to face High School and so the move wouldn't have been severe as it was any other year minus when leaving Elementary school. I would like to say that Marcy's parents are caring enough to have taken that into account. Yes they were uprooting Marcy but Marcy didn't have a lot to lose and would have had to deal with a new environment regardless.

SO my pitch is that they're old fashioned but with kind hearts. They don't get their daughter and they sometimes push Marcy to join clubs or the like but they don't force anything on her. We don't actually even know if they were strict about grades due to Marcy's natural exceptionalism but it also doesn't matter. Just the fact that they couldn't properly engage with, and probably didn't much about, Marcy's interests made a rift between them. Money tried to fill it as they made sure she had her games but her father is working most of the time and honestly, modern America says that both of her parents may have been working. It made for a lonely environment where a lot of their time spent with Marcy was trying to make sure they raised their daughter to be capable and kind.

And that is what we get when we meet Marcy in Amphibia. When she had to step up, she was ready for it. They may not have been able to provide for her emotionally but they made sure that she helped as much as she humanly could, made sure that she could take care of herself in a new environment and also instilled morals in her that made her mistake, her choice made out of sheer terror, devour her from the inside out.

Neither set of parents are perfect but neither are the Boonchuys... Or the Plantars... Or Anne. NO ONE is perfect in Amphibia but none of them deserve to be condemned either because they all genuinely care. By Amphibia's books, so long as you care about others, you are deserving of a chance yourself. Even Andrias deserves a chance at a quiet life when for recognizing that other people mattered, the thing The Core stood against most of all.

And that's why I give Marcy and Sasha's parents the same chance every other character in Amphibia gets.

Minus Chuck because he grows tulips and is perfect for it.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#amphibia #sasha waybright #marcy wu

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dressedwithred-if · 12 days

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LOVE SMITH

YOUR LIPS ARE WICKED AGAINST HER SKIN…

but not as wicked as the lies that have departed from them moments prior— “it’s okay love…” “it’s alright” “i’m okay” “nothing’s wrong”

… all said in order to avoid what could have been the near inevitable future, which would have possibly entertained the idea of her ever leaving you.

but you instead just had to chase after what once was, or what could’ve been; and had it not been for your deep-rooted nature- and the killing, lust-abiding side of you that just wanted to take. take all her love.. her desire.. her future—to yourself… and now her best friend's presumably lifeless body. and make it your own as if it was ever meant for you in the first place. the person who she thought was dead for many years now being in her arms, a new person that carried even the oldest memories with her regardless.

it could be a good thing that you embraced this side of yourself. the side that was just wanting of a separate identity through which you would be able to completely tend to those hidden sides of yourself.

but she was only half of your impulse control and she fell victim to it too, especially in this heated moment that captivated the two of you, and had you sharing so easily.

and you can’t help but to whine as she rolls her entire body into you more firmly than before. since moving from being held against the kitchen counter so desperately- to her bed in a frenzied fashion, kissing all sloppy with passion and hands grasping at tangles of hair.

even in your heated desire there’s a kind of regret— and not because it doesn’t feel good to finally have her against you despite everything- because between you and love, it most certainly does. but only because you can’t help but to wonder if your skin will crumble under her roaming touch, falling apart to reveal your true nature. and all the monstrous parts of you that have consistently worn out by being drenched with a crimson red- a blessing in itself.

the color that you've tried so desperately to hide from her upon sudden revelation. covering up all the negatives and replacing it with the only positives you had left to give to her. distracting her from the future, whatever the opposite may have held in comparison to the present.

and she’s just as desperate as you are, maybe even more so as she strengthens the grip of her fingers that take their place on the back of your neck, and caressing the hair and skin there as her warm tongue covers your own- discovering the parts of you left undiscovered by her for the longest time…

she’s known you her whole life. but do you really know her at her core? is she really even your best friend? has she ever even truly been your best friend after all this time? they say friends make the worst enemies but albeit the great lovers. it never came to you that she'd have her own secrets to hide, with her basically being a jumping target for the world to see. but then she holds your hands together in her own, guiding them up against pasty sheets, until she's satisfied with the position she has you in.

she's above you, a small giggle leaving her kissed lips as she gazes down upon you in all your glory. her eyes shine at the sight... until there’s suddenly more pressure being applied.

more & more pressure than what is physically comfortable. her knuckles turning an obscene shade of white as her fingers burns marks into your skin from how tight the hold both hands have on you.

before you can even get a single word out from the discomfort there’s a crack, and that’s when you realize from plain ignorance— that it’s too late to dwell back into your thoughts…

her lips quivering and tears fall down her flustered cheeks. a confirmation of regret, and then nothing as she leaves the room, locking the door behind her. you can only watch as everything surrounding you bursts up into flames. leading a trail over sheets. and up to your body. forcing you to make peace with death.

deny the truth once and then no more. doubt what’s actually true and what isn’t until it’s too late. maybe you wanted it to come to this. maybe you shouldn’t be so trusting after all. maybe you won’t be…

#DWR — love smith #gore #violence #dressedwithred #interactive fiction

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hiscrimsonangel · 10 months

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•••I started typing up some random thoughts about my own HC’s regards my beloved Eddie… enjoy.

TW: There is a mention of abuse and domestic violence so you are aware…. Not graphic just a mention. •••

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Eddie Munson is dramatic and over the top to hide his own insecurities. He puts on a front that nothing bothers him when his kind and pure heart has been cut to its very core. He can act like a child and then be the bravest man you will ever know. He is loving to those he trusts and cares for but keeps up a wall against those he doesn’t or manages to annoy the living shit out of them on purpose because he finds it funny his mere presence sets them and their picture perfect hypocritical lives off so much.

Eddie has seen more than he ever lets on and perhaps that is why he finds comfort in fantasy games or losing himself in music and writing and creating things predominantly for his friends, Wayne, and his little sheepies… or simply tearing apart an engine and rebuilding it- he is a natural when it comes to mechanics and making things run.

Eddie was given up on by so many who didn’t bother to take the time and realize he has so much to offer and was nothing at all like his father- if it wasn’t for Wayne he would have changed his last name to Padavona or Osbourne when he turned 18, but his Uncle’s last name is also Munson so he keeps it. Hoping that living up to that Munson name is being the man Wayne raised him to be and not something he never wants to be like, his sperm donor.

People don’t know this, but Eddie can tell you what stars are what if you sit under the night sky with him, point to constellations and tell you their names. Even knows what berries in the woods are good to eat, what ones will make you sick and which might kill you despite the birds eating them. He likes to climb trees now and then and hang upside down by his knees and will amuse you with the story of Dracula in film from Universal forward to the present and touch on the silent film Nosferatu which he says is a favorite as he flips himself over and jumps down.

A gentle soul, Eddie feeds bunnies and raccoons and stray kittens and puppies but will beat the hell out of a dude who slaps a woman or manhandles her in front of him. “ You don’t hit women” he yelled at a dude he was punching in the face while dragging him out of the Hideout one Tuesday night, throwing the guy in the street. Grabbing ice in a bar rag and putting it on the woman’s cheek and making sure she was ok before jumping back on stage and finishing the song he was doing- the band playing with grins. Eddie doesn’t like that shit, saw his Dad knock his Mom around once too often.

Eddie deeply respects women despite his reputation of being a womanizer- he isn’t what so ever. He does however want someone to love him and that he can shower with love as well… to cuddle at night and share his life with. Someone that won’t think his quirks make him a freak, but maybe they will find them special. He hopes the band will make it but he knows the reality is very slim and that he probably won’t ever quite leave Hawkins totally but he can dream and hope his special person finds him….

Until then, he lives in his own little world, and only a select few are let in, but he loves those people with his whole heart and would defend them with his very life if he needed to. He may tell you he is no hero but to me… he is the biggest hero of all….. and I don’t see that ever changing. ❤️‍🔥

#eddie munson #hawkins indiana #eddie my beloved #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanons

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skull001 · 1 year

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Some interactions I'd love to see more of with Amy:

1.- Amy and Knuckles. I like how it breaks stereotypes by having the strongest and manliest member of the team feeling comfortable enough to talk and share with Amy about the things he would never with the likes of Sonic or Rouge.

Knuckles displaying his more vulnerable side in the confidence and safety that only Amy provides adds an extra layer of dimension that humanizes his character, and further emphasizes Amy's role as the heart of the team and how she can be Knuckle's best and closest friend, giving both characters a dynamic of their own that is interesting to see and which could give Sonic and Tails a run for their money, especially with how charming it is to see Amy, the girl many assume would be the one in need of being protected, actually being the one who fiercely defends Knuckles against anyone who tries to take advantage of his noble disposition and honest character.

2.- Amy and Blaze. The thing that appeals to me with these two girls is how their personalities both contrast and complement each other's: Amy's the bubbly, easy-going and optimist, while Blaze is serious, no-nonsense and realist. Yet despite this, both share common ground in their desire to protect those they care for the most in their own unique ways. Amy is warm, almost motherly while Blaze (ironically, given her fire powers) can be cold and blunt, like the snow that covers the grass in winter, protecting it from the harsh wind outside. Amy can admire Blaze and learn from her to become a stronger heroine, while Blaze learns from Amy how to be more in touch with her own heart, as well as to enjoy the small things that makes life enjoyable. If Amy ever needed a big sister figure, Blaze would be the ideal choice. (Rouge is more like that crazy aunt who commits crimes, lol)

3.- Amy and Metal Sonic. These two have a history so to speak, as both debuted at the same time and how without Metal's kidnapping, Sonic would had never rescued Amy and in doing do, steal her heart.

The thing here is that, Metal Sonic is evil to the core of his programming and never once has done anything that resembles a spark of goodness in him for Amy to latch onto... However, there is yet another way for Amy to become invested in Metal Sonic: have her find him utterly defeated and in a very pathetic state. This was done by Tyson Hesse in the 6th episode of Sonic Mania Adventures, where Amy felt sorry for the abandoned robot. I would very much would like to see a similar premise, but expanded and developed further by having Metal Sonic start to question the nature of his actions after being a victim of Amy's kindness, becoming curious about what motivates this girl who is his enemy, help him... and in doing so, he starts to learn from Amy a sense of not only morality, but also freedom. That he is what he is because he was never given a choice.

4.- Amy and Shadow. I always thought there is something sad about how quickly the ball was dropped with these two, given that Amy played a very big and important part in Shadow not only remembering the true purpose for which he was created, but also how Amy's words made him UNDERSTAND Maria's wish and why no one has the right to deny humanity it's existance and why it was worth believing in people who despite their flaws, try their best to do the right thing.

I think Amy has the maturity and tact to approach Shadow, understanding that unlike the others, he still is very reluctant to open up to bonding with people whom he knows he is destined to outlive. She would give him his space, while also reminding him that he is not alone, and that even if he will continue to live after sll of thrm had their time in the world, he shouldn't close his heart, because the connections and bonds one makes in their lifetime are the things that make the world worth of not only protecting, but also of living.

#Amy Rose #Knuckles the Echidna #Blaze the cat #Metal Sonic #Shadow the Hedgehog

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insurrection-if · 1 month

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when I read lempo I thought it was liempo 😭 liempo is like a pork filo dish so I was like yummy I can eat her up LMSOOOJKKKK

Ahaha, that’s hilarious! ( ´ 艸｀) Lempo is pretty delicious in a literal sense with her ambrosia, so that impression isn’t too far out there, haha!

She’s also more than willing for Mockingbird to taste her (whether it be through her blood, ambrosia, or other means), so your mindset would be greatly welcomed by her, aha!

Also, if it’s easier to use when thinking about or referring to her, Lempo’s real name is Falda Lundquist. (　´∀｀)b

The moniker Lempo is a name she adopted from Finnish mythology. She doesn’t have much interest in historical / religious / cultural studies herself (at least, not in the traditional academic sense), so her discovery and interest in Lempo originated from one of her fathers who introduced her to the historical origins of the name.

Her attachment to the name is largely rooted in the perception towards Lempo rather than Lempo themself. I have seen conflicting information over what Lempo was the god of, and their nature as more of a fiend or creature, but the main point for Falda herself is their association with love (and, as some extend them to, passion).

Love is something often revered or desired in some sense or another (in forms either platonic, familial, or romantic). Our first thoughts towards love might often veer to ideals and satisfactions: love as one’s comfort, home, support, happiness, or pleasure. But Lempo, despite their association with and offering of love, was not so pure or altruistic in their nature, showing themself to be capable of malicious or callous actions. And yet, before the introduction of Christianity, Lempo had also been tied to acts of good or grace which created a much more morally dubious (or, in simply put, grey) light. Imperfect, flawed, yet still rooted in that core aspect of love and its manifestation between others. Lempo was not innocent and pure, but neither were they wholly vile and wicked as they instead roamed somewhere in-between.

After the arrival of Christianity, Lempo was heavily demonized to the point of being compared to the Christian devil: a fallen being defined by his sinfulness, pride, and selfishness. Lempo’s love became synonymous with a love that is erratic and perilous, twisted and corrupted into something maddening and foul.

This all ties into Falda’s own gift, her ambrosia, and how others perceive it . . . as well as her own complicated relationship with it.

Rather than love, Falda’s ‘divine offering’ to the world is (against, simply put) happiness, which is similarly idealized, desired, and revered by most. Her ambrosia has an effect that often eases its recipient, injecting them with a high of pure joy and pleasant physical sensations. Much like love, it can stir intense passion, sentiment, and satisfaction. And like Lempo’s use of their divine nature, Falda did not always offer her ambrosia with intentions pure or benevolent.

Falda has utilized her ambrosia out of kindness and trickery, selfishness and selflessness. She has used it to soothe the ache and despair of those around her as a healer would. She has used it to incapacitate and subdue those who have opposed her, and those who have threatened her. She has used it to lure and entrap others for her own gain, just as she has equally used it to delight and please those accepting of her care. Like Lempo, she is not wholly benevolent or malicious. She, as a person and a Gifted, is imperfect, flawed, and grey in her nature

The ambrosia, like Lempo’s post-Christian depiction of love, became a source of madness in her followers. Its pleasures became addictive for some, desensitizing for others. The end of her cult was a rather dark affair that I won’t fully detail here and now. Following the cult’s end, however, Falda came to be seen as someone who twisted something that could have once been innocent or benevolent (happiness, rather than love) into something crazed, harmful, and lethal. Her image became monstrous to the greater world, and (like Lempo) she became an icon for all that is immoral, dangerous, and deluded about the Gifted.

Falda is somewhat conflicted on where to place the fault of her cult’s demise: on her ambrosia, herself (her nature or her actions), her followers (their humanity as something lesser or frail), or ill-fortune. She has become more contemplative over whether there truly is an innate wickedness in herself or her gift, or if these thoughts are simply the hurtful and projected judgements of others that should be dismissed with careless disregard. These thoughts are little more than a seed at the start of the narrative, but it’s a matter she’ll be mulling over as events develop.

I hope that explanation for her moniker at least makes the smallest amount of sense to someone out there! ദ്ദി(˶‾᷄ᗜ‾᷅˵ ᵕ) It’s a lot easier to understand and unravel when it’s a stream of quickly overlapping thought in my head rather than words typed on a screen.

Apologies if anything I’ve stated about Lempo (from Finnish mythology, not the character) has been horribly incorrect or ignorantly offensive in any way! I’m Catholic, and don’t have any in-person Finnish associates other than a distant cousin’s boyfriend, so my knowledge might be horribly off-base or poorly presented above. I truly hope that isn’t the case, but please let me know if that’s so and I’ll try to make amends!

For my own fun(?), I’ve briefly listed the reasoning for the monikers of the rest of the CARDINALS below. I considered adding this for the codenames of the HAWKS too, but that’s rather easy to sum up since their codenames are just the spirit animals I assigned to them a long time ago. Mockingbird is the sole exception to that trend as their codenames only calls out to their nature as an imitator, though the symbolic association with ‘individuality’ is somewhat relevant to their gift as well.

Anywho, here’s the background for the CARDINALS’s names:

Uriel: Self-named after the archangel Uriel from Christianity (though the recognition of Uriel varies across denominations). He likes the image of one who fights with and guides others to the truth, wielding a fiery conviction and a heart without pity. In childhood, he had been close to a woman devoted to the Anglican Church. He no longer adheres to the faith, but still wishes to transfer the sense of reverence and power the name Uriel once held in his eyes onto himself.

Curadora: She is a ‘curator’ of memories, and that is a far more honorable title than a ‘manipulator’ of them. A curator is one who controls but also maintains, almost like a guardian or caretaker of their collection. It is also similar to the title of a ‘curandera’, a traditional healer, which is a connotation that appeals to her.

Dearil: The name given to him by the leader of the cult he was raised in, one only granted after the manifestation of his gift. Its connotations with death make it somewhat self-explanatory, though ‘call of the dead’ is rather fitting for how his gift has managed to evolve itself (in a way the man who gave him this name did not foresee).

Kalyna: Chosen for sentiment and symbolism, the kalyna is deeply intertwined with her roots. Its connotations with innocence, love, companionship, and freedom from oppression embodies all she wishes to defend. It is also tied to nature much like her own gift.

“Golden” Retriever: His reputation in his days as a hero reflected the associated qualities and personality of the dog breed by the same name. His appearance was also heavily associated with gold.

Lempo: Explained (poorly) above, but to reiterate, an entity associated with love whose aspects and offerings, while widely(?) revered and desired, could spiral into the erratic and dangerous—much like her ambrosia. A being condemned and demonized by the morals and perception of others much like herself as a Gifted and who she is as a person.

Bacara: A demonic creature associated with deals and crossroads. The name was “gifted” to him (in reality, given with the intent to shame and harm) by a loved one. It alludes to his self-interested, (arguably) malicious nature before the CARDINALS when he offered largely material or immoral gains for a cost tailored to tease and scar or simply satisfy his own whims and desires.

Boar: A wild animal associated with ferocity and strength that poses a worthy challenge to whoever dares to hunt it. Boar likens herself to this image as someone wild and untamable, ferocious and strong, who will not die easily or quietly even as all the world hunts her down for no reason other than her born nature.

Bones: A simple title with no flash or flare. Bones are associated with death and decay, enduring remnants of something lost to death long ago (like Elov himself).

Hopscotch: The name of a game that’s considered childish and simple, much like how Hopscotch himself wishes to be perceived. His teleportation is best used across small distances, and these small “hops” from one space to the next resemble those within the game he’s named after. It’s approachable, friendly, and shows he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

Scales: As in scales that balance, one tipping down causing the other to rise, much like the equal exchange required for whatever alteration is made by their gift. It’s also reminiscent of the ‘scales of justice’ or the symbol for equality. Justice and equality are what Scales hopes to champion for the Gifted.

#c: lempo

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daughter-of-melpomene · 26 days

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𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎 “𝐀𝐉” 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐒

❝ While the vast majority of the United Kingdom’s criminal world could say they had some kind of connection to the Shaw family, AJ was perhaps the only one who could say he had friends in that family and actually mean it. He’d known the three Shaw siblings since they were all kids, what with his parents being favored lackeys of Queenie Shaw and her husband (now ex-husband, and possibly dead ex-husband, but good riddance to the old bastard, really), and for as long as he could remember he’d gladly trailed after them and joined in on their respective schemes, occasionally using the gadgets he liked to come up with and tinker with to help them out further. He wasn’t much of the planning type himself, but like his parents with Deckard, Owen, and Hattie’s own, he was happy to come along and help out, occasionally even taking the blame and suffering the punishment whenever higher powers (their parents) found out what they’d done.

And though he hadn’t followed any of the Shaws into the military or spy game, that didn’t mean AJ’s pattern of following along with their less-than-legal plans died off. He and Owen may have broken off their on-again-off-again hookups when the latter had left for service, but when Owen returned and decided to start his own gang of criminals, it had picked right back up when he’d called up AJ, the best and most inventive mechanic he knew, and offered him both a spot on his new team and the resumption of their bed buddies arrangement. And AJ should have known better, really, should have known that Owen wasn’t as sophisticated at planning as his parents or his brother and sister and that he wouldn’t remain uncaught, but he’d never quite shaken either his follower tendencies or the feelings he had for Owen against his better judgement. So, also against his better judgement, he said yes, falling back into Owen’s schemes and back into his bed, ignoring the feeling in his gut that screamed that none of this was going to end well.

Now it would seem that feeling in his gut was right all along - Owen has been growing steadily more ambitious and less reasonable as time has gone on, and how he wants to get his hands on a device that could potentially end the world as everyone knows it, despite AJ’s desperate protests. So now AJ is forced to do something he’d never imagined doing: betray a member of the Shaw family, the one just a bit in love with no less, and offer his services and knowledge to the crew of driving outlaws led by Dominic Toretto, the only people who might be able to stop Owen.

They don’t trust him at first, of course, which AJ finds is completely fair - but Letty, Dom’s girlfriend whose amnesia Owen has previously used to his advantage, is willing to stick up for him, and slowly the rest of the team seems to be warming up to him, even the bald loudmouth named Roman who was so staunchly against accepting his help at first. And, well, this crew may be very different from anything AJ is used to, but they’re all still incredibly skilled and intelligent and nice once you’ve gotten past their walls, which is more than AJ could ever say for Owen.

AJ may have just betrayed a man he’s known and trusted and even loved since childhood, a member of the family he’s always been loyal to, and he may have just gone against his core nature as a follower… but it seems like he might get a brand new family, and possibly even a new, much better romance than what he had with Owen, out of the deal. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski-ocs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag. (Also tagging @xoteajays.)

#my ocs #introducing my ocs #ch: aj vargas #oc: aj vargas #queerocs #fyeahocsofcolor #ocapp #ocappreciation #ochub #allaboutocs #fyeahfast&furiousocs #fast & furious oc #fic: getaway car

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myinterestsvary-writes · 1 year

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Rereading this, I can see how this might seem to degrade Haruhi, no matter how unintentionally because supposedly all the Host Club men are attracted to women and Haruhi is a genuine person. It says more about her than anything that she bags so much attention. I understand why people like her, I was just thinking of it from a realism? standpoint. How likely is it that a group of boys fall for the same girl like that, but honestly…

They’re friends for a reason. Please read anyways.

I can not be the only one who thinks it is crazy that every single one of the host club besides Hani and maybe Mori (but he was strongly considered to be the endgame choice at a point) had feelings/fallen in love with Haruhi. I’ve never been in gender imbalanced friend groups, so I don’t know how truthful this is to reality for a lot of people, but I’d think that relates back to the subconscious notion I’ve seen some men use in reference to the opposite sex when the meeting isn’t happenstance/casual or pre-puberty of, “if I find you sexually attractive, I’m willing to be friends with you.” There must be - I hope there is - men who don’t think that way and really just enjoy another person’s company regardless of sex and determines friendship off of that, but that’s what I think when I see the Host Club so willingly accept her as their “secret princess” knowing that most of them fall in love with her. It kind of temporarily taints their friendships, you know?

Warning: ship biases below

Tamaki and Haruhi were never friends, no matter how much Tamaki wanted to be along with her father figure (which negatively impacted their romantic development, as referenced later on), they were begrudged acquaintances who slowly over time on both sides come to understand, respect and admire each other based on multiple, deep conversations and observed actions that spoke to their individual cores and that translated into falling in love as there was attraction there. That’s how the author distinguished between him and everyone else as viable love interests. Plus, it was their dynamic that was most intriguing in terms of writing and development as their characters’ growth directly happens because of each other.

The twins became friends with her the moment she stopped keeping to herself and was forced to join their club. They weren’t really friends at first because there was still a prejudice against her and despite her natural charm and admirable traits, they could still rationalize that she’s more than likely just another person not apart of their small world. They soon found her interesting because she was quickly able to tell them apart, as the only person able to do this so quickly. It’s actually revealed later on that Tamaki knew for a while how to as well, but it took him longer because he’s dumb, it also took quite some time for the twins to open up to him, their friendships with him are just very different from their relationship with Haruhi. I definitely understand why they would develop feelings for her as they’re adolescents who are still developing their identities, constantly around an attractive, inspiring girl their age. The thing is however, being as oblivious as she is, Haruhi can’t see them as anyone other than her dear friends because that’s the established relationship she had with them for so long that she grew most comfortable with. There’s also a strong likelihood that since Haruhi’s not “awakened” by the time the twins’ feelings come in full force, she just doesn’t find them significantly attractive…yet. There’s always the future, but I doubt that they’ll pursue her even then in favour of their friendship.

Kyoya is a bit more tricky. He’s the reason why I’m making this post after all. Haruhi believes that if he can’t gain anything from the action, he won’t do it. That is for the most part a true characteristic of Kyoya’s, which is why he finds her so interesting and likeable. She’s able to show the audience that Kyoya does in fact have a heart even without self-interest, but for the most part is self interested as an aspiring businessman. Haruhi doesn’t know his background nor family all too well, so she doesn’t know truly that he’s so resentful because of them. Maybe that would change her perception of him further, maybe that would put him more in her mind as she grew more conscious in wanting to help him, but I truly doubt Kyoya would let her go any further in that pursuit when he’s so successful at playing his father on his own in the succession crisis anyway. Plus, as shown with Hikaru and Kaoru trying to help Hikaru win Haruhi over, and her favouring Kaoru over him, Haruhi doesn’t find Hikaru’s darkness pleasant nor attractive but she does accept it as part of both Hikaru and Kyoya’s personalities. They’re her dear friends. It’s possible that Kyoya had developed some feelings for her - as hinted at in the beach episode - but I highly doubt that it developed into a deep romantic love as suppressing those feelings tend to smother them akin to a flame.

Kyoya is in love with Tamaki. Not that you can’t be in love with multiple people at once, but he’s the one who had the most significant presence in his life, who had the most notable influence over him. Who he called precious. I just…have never seen any indication of romantic feelings for Haruhi and Hani and Mori are great observers but I don’t believe them when it comes to Kyoya. They’re more than likely just ignorant on homosexual subtext lmao

#haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #the hitachiin twins #kyoya ootori #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #ohshc #ouran high school host club #manga #Anime

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usagirln12003 · 3 days

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Bruno Madrigal: Hogwarts AU

Bruno Madrigal is a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 17th of October 1936 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1948, being sorted into Gryffindor house.

He has a Hawthorn wand with a Unicorn Hair Core.

His Patronus is a Rat.

His favorite subject is Divination and his least favorite is Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Due to the nature of his seer abilities, Bruno has been labeled as someone who "makes bad things happen" by both his former classmates and his family when he is merely the requested bearer of the news. Despite being feared by almost everyone in the neighborhood, Bruno is kind-hearted, caring, fairly comical, and possesses a strong love and loyalty towards his family. Although he is described as a monstrous and sadistic person, Bruno is actually a quiet, shy, and kind man who easily becomes nervous and suffers from anxiety, like his sister, Pepa. Bruno is introduced to his niece Mirabel as insecure and avoidant, and believes others' accusations that his abilities only brings problems. However, after he is fully reaccepted into his family, he becomes more cheerful and enthusiastic. Bruno is also shown to be gentle with animals in a way similar to his youngest nephew, Antonio. He befriended the rats living within the walls of the Madrigal mansion, sharing what little food he has with them and enjoying their company. When the mansion crumbles during an attack from dark wizards, he takes the rats with him before making his escape. Bruno also takes quickly to Antonio's animal friends, letting his capybara's join the vision and allowing the coatimundi, who he shooed away prior to his vision, to hang from his shoulder. He is also good at flying which was seen when he rode on a broom to find Mirabel and Alma after the mansion's destruction.

Not much is known about his personality before he left the family, but it is known that whenever he had a prophecy, he inadvertently hurt or angered the people around him, causing him to retreat from society and eventually from his family to avoid upsetting anyone. His abilities made him paranoid and fearful of his surroundings, and he developed a sand-based ritual to help focus and control his power. As a result of living for ten years in isolation within the walls of the Madrigal mansion, Bruno developed odd behaviors, such as knocking on wood, stumbling, muttering, and developing two alternate identities: "Hernando", who is "scared of nothing" and "Jorge", who makes spackle, to keep himself occupied in his isolation, along with befriending some rats to keep him company. Yet, despite claiming he is fine with his isolation from his family, Bruno actually misses them and longs to be with them, despite their negative perceptions of him. He also shares a complicated relationship with his mother, due to his abilities not living up to her expectations and she only saw the worst in him. As a result of his mother's difficult attitude, Bruno was intimidated by her and tried to avoid her, even though he wanted to make her proud.

He is very selfless man and his biggest acts of selflessness is catalyzed by his love for his family. Despite the way some treated him when he was around and didn't like to talk about him after he left, Bruno is not spiteful or vindictive and has a forgiving heart. When he was reunited with his mother, he never showed hate towards Alma nor did he reject her loving gestures in spite of his confusion, and listened intently as she began to apologize to him and the rest of the family for her mistakes. He sacrificed his reputation and went into self-exile for a decade to protect Mirabel from being ostracized and treated the same way he had been after seeing an uncertain vision connecting her to the 15 Chosen Ones. Bruno was also willing to take the blame for Mirabel after the destruction of the family home. Initially fearful of being seen by Alma, Bruno revealed himself and was prepared to confront his mother in order to defend his niece before Alma, having now realized she and her idealism were the causes of their family's problems, embraced him, which surprises him completely. Although his former classmates were initially afraid of him due to his gift, Bruno happily works with them in rebuilding the mansion showing that he now has a close bond with them.

Bruno's greatest wish is to be able to help his family. Although he was initially avoidant of his mother because he was initially afraid of her, he does not feel the same way towards his older sisters or brothers-in-law. The misunderstanding at Pepa's wedding arose from his attempt to help her relax and embrace her emotions with an ill-worded joke. When they meet again, he made his first apology to her and Félix for inadvertently ruining their wedding by stressing her out with his comment, and tells her how much he loves her and he wants her to be herself. With the exception of Camilo, who dramatizes Bruno as a demonic figure and was later confused by his return by being the only member of the family who never knew he's actually a good person, the younger generation does not have anything negative to say about him: Mirabel and Luisa still refer him as their uncle despite the taboo on his name and possessing little memory of him before he left, Dolores empathizes with his problems and chooses not to reveal his hiding in the house's walls despite the depressing vision he gave her when she was younger, Isabela is the only one to say something positive about him while everyone else speaks negatively of him, and Antonio, who has no memory of his uncle, is never afraid of him thanks to the rats and sees him as a friend.

#crossover hogwarts au #encanto #bruno madrigal

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everyneji · 2 years

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How do you think the relationship between Neji and Hinayana should have developed? Unfortunately, Hyuga clan didn’t get much screen time in Part 2. I’m curious how they gradually got closer and care for each other. It’s a great loss this part was almost ignored in the manga. I think it’s very important to the character development of both Hinata and Neji. Happy to hear any headcanon!

Thank you so much for the ask, I really appreciate it! ♥ Sorry for the late reply, real life will do that, and sorry that this got, ah, long.

I'm torn on the subject because Kishimoto kept the focus on Naruto and Sasuke for good reason and there's only so much he could have fit in of other character's lives -- but at the same time if Hinata was going to end up so important and Neji our beloved martyr, it would have been nice to see them get more to do.

At least the anime's love of Hinata means we tend to get a lot more about their relationship, which is nice, even if I don't always agree with what they do. Boruto's time travel arc provided some interesting stuff:

Fascinating! They imagine that even in their recovering relationship, Neji is still acutely aware of his place in her life -- does he fear some kind of retribution for seeming too chummy with her, or does he fear that it will further drag down her reputation in the clan? As he goes on to explain to Boruto: NEJI: I belong to the branch family, so she is like my lord. BORUTO: But she calls you big brother. NEJI: We were raised together as siblings. I've told her not to call me that ... but Lady Hinata does not listen.

Hinata is very polite. She uses honorifics for everyone, and it's not sarcastic -- unlike Neji, whose use of '-sama' is contrasted with his lack of polite speech for her. Superficially, Hinata is being polite yet familiar, while Neji is rude and uses the honorific out of obligation. Yet I think Neji is also trying to create distance between them which Hinata is trying to counter, so in a way Hinata is crossing a boundary. Which is interesting! For a terminally anxious girl, Hinata can be surprisingly bold about taking the first step: she approaches Naruto in the chūnin exams, she jumps in front of Pain and confesses her love, and it seems with Neji, she even tried to keep reaching out to him despite his cruelty.

Hinata seems lonely in a familial sense. She's been virtually disowned, Hanabi is (in the anime very explicitly) her rival, her mother doesn't seem to be around ... I imagine she spends a lot of time trying to make connections, and Neji is an immediate family member who happens to be her peer, so naturally she seeks a relationship with him, especially because they had a good start. When you think about how simple and sweet their relationship when they first met was, it's very sad to think it was torn from them -- they were both left lonelier for the loss of it.

There's an added layer where you can also read some guilt or even pity in Hinata's response to him -- how much she knew about the Hyūga Affair is ambiguous, but she is aware of Neji's suffering in the clan because of his subordinate position.

Interestingly, she prefaces this with "I can see it now ... that even more than me ..." which also suggests to me that Hinata was very wrapped up in her own problems and Neji has probably settled for a few jabs and walking off in the past so she hasn't been exposed to the depths of his feeling. I've said it before, but I think they were basically strangers at this point in time.

Once those lines of communication were finally opened, they probably found the things they have in common, and went forward from there. A sense of solidarity would be core to their relationship, and of course we're told that their mutual acknowledgement of each other basically fixed the clan. Which is a powerful thing! They've both been hurt and effectively pit against each other, and only by healing that relationship and themselves can they heal their clan.

Now, when it comes to Neji's side of things, his feelings are a lot more complicated! Undoubtedly there's an extreme level of resentment when we first see them together -- the "I hate seeing you happy" kind -- but at the same time, his backhanded compliments are only insults in the cynical ninja world.

It's condescending and disrespectful, but he doesn't see Hinata as a bad person, just a useless one. If anything, you get the sense that Neji would like these traits in a person -- even admire them -- if he hadn't been left so jaded. We can see this from how much Neji liked Hinata when they first met, and it speaks to his own natural sweetness and light that all his trauma tried to steal from him. Which is certainly a theme of Naruto, of course, but it never stops making me sad.

In the most perfect of happy AUs Neji probably just ends up a more outgoing (if still refined) version of Hinata lmao. They really are meant to be two sides of the same coin.

When their relationship goes forward from this, the anime shows Neji training Hinata, and it's not hard to draw that conclusion from Neji and Hinata's ease fighting next to each other in the war. I think once Neji acknowledged Naruto's determination he also acknowledged hers, and can see him trying to give her the skills to match her willpower. I like to think he played a part in her growing confidence by showing faith in her abilities. I also think he probably practised being gentle with her. He hadn't let himself be that in a long time.

My main sticking point with the anime and a lot of fandom interpretation is this idea that Neji defaulted back to this 'Must protect Hinata-sama!' overprotective big brother mode (which I think is a disservice to him) or that they became besties. They're both gainfully employed child soldiers so they're plenty busy, Neji outranked her professionally while she continued to outrank him socially, they have other friends, and so forth. I'm sure they were amicable -- and fairly close -- but their lives had diverged a lot by the point that they reconciled.

Maybe with more time, and peace changing the dynamic of the world, and their clan (presumably) changing (officially) also, they would have gotten very close, but as it was, well ...

Ultimately, for me, I find their relationship rather sad, as it will always be coloured by Neji's sacrifice. While I think it had more to do with Naruto than Hinata, she was still a factor, and so you can't escape the implication that Neji did what he was 'meant to.' It sets the tone for their whole relationship. Like, he will always be marked. He is marked until he dies. It's why it doesn't matter if Neji ever actually experienced the seal first hand: the fact that it exists is a perpetual boot to his neck, and is a violence unto itself. Did Hinata know how to activate the seal? Can Neji ever forget their power imbalance? Am I supposed to believe that on that battlefield, it never once crossed Neji's mind that he may be called on to protect her with his life?

The idea of someone feeling -- grateful, complacent, loving -- toward someone who owns them, owns their life, is hard to swallow. It will downright choke you once you remember that his life is ultimately forfeit to her. Like, I love Hinata. I don't think she's a bad person, or that she'd ever abuse the power she has over Neji. I genuinely love their relationship ... but they're meant to parallel their fathers, and when Hizashi comes back, he hits with us a classic:

Hizashi chose to die with love in his heart, and he comes back like 'Oh boy check out this cosmic punishment for forgetting my place.' So, uh, yeah, when Neji pulls the exact same thing about 6 hours later, don't we naturally parallel them and assume that even telling yourself you're doing something out of love doesn't change your crushing sense of servitude? Or, as I once wrote into a fic:

“That’s not freedom, Neji. That’s -- putting pillows in your cage.”

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I really, really wish that Hinata had not been in the line of fire. She and Naruto could have just as easily bonded over Neji's rapidly cooling corpse without her having been in danger. All it does is reinforce the hierarchy between them, which in turn can make it hard to see Neji being nice to her.

If I remove myself from the meta narrative, however, I will say that relationships are complex, even along hierarchical lines, and while Neji doesn't owe Hinata anything, I wouldn't want him to continue burning with resentment. You don't have to be complacent, but perpetual anger is exhausting. Thus, it's good they managed to repair their relationship, and find a little bit of the children they used to be together again.

TL;DR;JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION THAT WAS POSED: I think that a sense of solidarity and commonality, and training, brought them closer together over the years. I believe they are, at their cores, very similar people so they got along well, even if they weren't the very best of friends due to circumstance.

TL;DR;THE WHOLE ESSAY: I love them both and believe they loved each other, but if I think too hard about the meta narrative I want to chew my own leg off like it's stuck in a bear trap ... but don't get me wrong, I love how inherently complicated and deep their relationship is because of it. There's a lot to work with there!

#not everyneji #ask #naruto meta #neji hyuga #hinata hyuga #luckyllamagothjudge #.the 1 person who didn't know boruto did a time travel arc: 🤯#.i actually really enjoy the boruto anime lol #.anyone else get emo when they imagine neji mentoring kawaki #.poor little branded boys of the world

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violetlunette · 2 years

Text

I’ve been seeing these and decided what the hell? Keep in mind all of these are personal opinions and subjective to change.

Also, keep in mind that while I am in the process of re-reading the manga, I cannot recall every detail off the top of my head, I could be wrong at points. These are just brain dumps, so take everything with a grain of salt.

Also, no order for these.

Adore:

Hizashi Yamada- I really love Hizashi and connect to him on quite a few levels. He’s a super loyal friend and is very intelligent. I like that he’s not all forgiving like the rest of the main cast and is the only one willing to bring up tough issues. I even like that he’s so passive, as it's unique inner conflict for male characters. (Shame we don’t get to see him overcome it, or how much it affects his life.) He’s not a pure ball of sunshine, but he’s a kind cloak of moonlight that I adore.

Aizawa Shouta- I don’t usually like broody boys, but I like quiet ones with an air of mystery and strength. I really like his protective nature as well as his dadzawa moments. He’s also a fun foil to the wild energy around him. It’s also really neat that despite having a cool quirk, Aizawa has to work to overcome his weaknesses by using a creative support item and just working hard.

Toshinori Yagi- Unlike Hizashi, All Might really is a sweet, pure, and genuine ball of sunlight. He is a giant teddy bear that I just want to hug and squeeze. And his scenes with Izuku are the best! I love what Hori did with his character. He’s strong, smart, and an all-around golden boy, but isn’t perfect and makes a lot of mistakes. However, instead of ignoring them he acknowledges his mistakes and uses them to grow and do better. I really love Hori is showing that while All Might can’t be a hero anymore, his life isn’t over and still has meaning.

Tsuyu Asui- My favorite Class 1-A girl. I like that she’s a sweet, friendly girl who is empathetic to those around her, but knows when to use her head. I like that she’s a lawful good character and is willing to call out even her friends for thinking they should break the law and place themselves in danger because of their personal feelings. That being said, she isn’t heartless, far from it. Among the cast, she seems to be the most empathetic right along with Todoroki. (She’s also the one I like the most with Dadzawa.)

Nemuri Kayama- A lot of people are turned off by her “ahem” personality but I don’t mind it. I like female characters who aren’t afraid of their sexual nature—as long as they don’t force it on others. I really like her character in Vigilantes where she’s a sweet woman who tries to help others and is a good friend to Aizawa. I do think she’s underused, however, especially since they decided to kill her off in the main story and try to play it for high drama.

Highly Like:

Izuku Midoriya- I love Izuku! He’s a sweet little angel who deserves better than he gets. The only reason he’s not higher is that he gets pushed to the background as the series goes on. Thus, we’re not allowed to see his internal conflict very often. Plus, the manga completely tossed out a core part of his character arc, which really hurt his development. Despite that, I do like Izuku a lot. I especially like his past with Bakagou. (Not in the way BakaDeku stans do.) I liked the fact he was bullied and hurt, but despite the world being against him, Izuku remained a sweet soul who did everything to protect others. Izuku’s past was a great setup for character development and an arc. Sadly, for whatever reason, we didn’t get to fully explore it.

Toru Hagakure- While I am very fond of Toru, it’s mostly the concept and potential of her character that I like more than anything she does as she’s very underused. That being said, the concept of her character is very appealing to me and I like what little we see of her. She’s a good fanfic character for me. (I want to write a story focusing on her but I have so many plot bunnies! >x<) I’m not too crazy about her ship with Ojiro though. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing bad about it and there are a lot of good things about it, but it gets zero emotions from me. Like, it’s there, but that’s it. I think it’s because even though they’re together they rarely interact. Sorry, this ship just isn't for me.

Knuckle Duster- It’s a shame he left so early as he was a very interesting character. His backstory was interesting and I like that despite not having a quirk or a license he became a hero just to save his daughter. And I like how he handled Stain.

Makoto Tsukauchi- A woman very good at managing things even in emergencies. I love how in control she usually is and how she reins Captain Sunshine in and helps him become a better hero. Plus, her relationship with her brother feels very real. They may be at odds but they still love and respect each other.

Fat Gum- He’s a funny character and I like his interactions with other characters. (Especially Tamaki and the Crab lady.) I really liked him in Vigilantes.

Queen Bee- The bee Quirk was very interesting and I love how it was utilized. It was an awesome concept for a villain and while the manga didn’t go as far as it could, the length it did go was interesting. The idea of using bees to make people lose control of their quirks was interesting. Tamao was—okay, but we don’t get to see her much as a person to judge. Queen Bee is a very scary villain.

Six- Honestly, I think Six would have been a better antagonist for Izuku (more on that—eventually). As is, Six is a cool villain with hella potential. True, he whines at times like Shiggy but he also does stuff and works for what he wants and doesn’t just demand everything. (True, he uses horrible tactics and throws massive tantrums when he fails, but still.) Plus, he just feels more natural and less forced in his actions.

Tenya Ida- I always have fun when I see him. He’s so straightforward, innocent, and hard-working. And I like that he tries to protect Izuku from Bakagou by placing himself between the two often. His serious nature is good for comedy as well. (I especially like him with Mei.) He just reminds me of a little brother who tries to help out by taking care of his family, despite being the youngest.

Ochako Uraraka- She’s cute and I like that she has a sweet connection with her family. Though I’ll admit I like her better before she tried apologizing to Tago in later chapters (I know, I know. Petty.). Like, baby; you did nothing wrong. All you told her was that if she hurt people, she had to be held accountable. And this was AFTER spending hours digging out injured people (and possibly dead bodies). I also love her costume design! I think it's adorable.

Mei Hatsume- Mei is a very fun girl and I love her energy and her passion as an inventor. There’s also something appealing about her ambition and manipulative nature. She wants to be a famed inventor and will use whatever tricks she has to and isn’t ashamed of it.

Inko Midoriya- I love that Inko isn’t a plucky anime girl, but a sweet, shy woman who is kind. And despite not being very strong emotionally or physically, she still called out All Might and U.A. as a whole for her son’s safety. I also like both her chubby and thin design. I think both are equally cute. However, her chubby design is unique as it’s cute, not played for jokes, and her assets aren’t exaggerated. She’s round like an egg and I like that. (She reminds me of a pangolin, though.)

Mirio Togata- He’s a mini-me done right. Unlike Shinsou who is basically diet Aizawa personality wise, Mirio may share traits with All Might, however, he is very much his own person. Mirio is a sweet senpai and I love how he can inspire others. And I’ll admit that his scenes with Eri are so sweet, I can actually stand seeing her when she’s with him. He is a good friend, a good hero, and a great big brother figure.

Tamaki Amajiki- Anxiety-filled, but I like his perception skills, his interactions with others, and how he still tries his best. He’s also just a sweet little elf.

Like:

Detective Tsukauchi- This is all thanks to his vigilante persona, otherwise he’d slip under the radar. He plays the everyday man very well.

Eijiro Kirishima- Eijiro is a sweet ball of sunshine and I like the idea of him turning Bakagou into decent person. (Shame he doesn’t do so, but that’s a topic for another day.) He a genuinely good guy who cares about others. What’s not to like?

Shoto Todoroki- I like his arc and his personality after Izuku helps him, but after that, he pretty much stays the same. However, I hate his hero costumes. He needs a better designer.

Momo Yoayorozu- I like that she’s an intelligent ingenue and they set up a decent arc with her, but it was barely focused on and solved too quickly. That being said she’s sweet and cute.

Neito Monoma- He’s fun and smart. I think he gets too much hatred. Usually, I hate arrogant characters but it works with him as he is always called out and his mean-spirited actions are not only not rewarded, but punished. It also helps that while he’s a bully to Class A, he’s sweet to his classmates. Plus his design is really cute.

All For One- So, he is between like and dislike. I like him because he’s the only one the manga isn’t going, “look I know he did bad things, but you have to understand; he was sad.” Plus, as a villain, he is actually kind of fun. Less so lately, but still. Anyway, I just love cunning villains with an elegant nature and a cocky attitude that makes their defeat all the sweeter. There’s also something else that draws me to him as a villain that I can’t quite identify. (I don’t like his “human” design, however. Dunno why just don’t.)

That being said, I don’t like him currently as he’s one of the reasons the manga is dragging on. Plus, I think that his plan with Shigaraki was overly complicated and kinda pointless. If he wanted to hurt All Might, he should have turned Nana into a Nomu and if he wanted a new body, the doctor could have crafted a specially made body. I dunno, I probably missing something. I know his interest in Shiggy seems to come from Shiggy’s hatred, but he cultivated that. And didn’t Shiggy forget his past before he got his muscle-up makeover? So he didn’t hate anything, he was just teenage angry. And why would AFO let Shiggy forget his past if that’s where most of his anger comes from? Okay, cards on the table I read the chapters focusing on Shiggy once, so I’m probably missing a hell of a lot.

The point being, I think AFO makes things more complicated than he needs to on himself. Still like him better than the rest of the villains.

Neural like:

Nezu- I like what we see and again, he has potential that was unexplored. (He was way too eager to crush his students though.)

Mineta Minoru- Like everyone I hate his perviness and the lack of punishment. (I feel that if you have to have an anime pervert their actions need to be extremely exaggerated and the reactions to those actions should be Tom and Jerry level violence.)

However, I like Mineta’s inner conflict and his personality can be entertaining—again, outside his pervy traits. Personally, I think he had potential to improve and that he’s over-hated.

Mt. Lady- I love her design and how unapologetic she is for fame and I like that she knows when to set her goals aside and help people.

Star and Stripes- We didn’t get to see a lot of her, but I like her concept and wouldn’t mind reading about her in a fanfic where she’s All Might’s adopted daughter and a big sister to Izuku.

Dislike:

Shinsou- Shinsou is a character that is right between irksome and dislike. His personality doesn’t appeal to me as he feels like diet Aizawa with Bakagou’s arrogance and Shoto’s monotone. Plus it REALLY annoys me that canon and fanon try to claim that he was discriminated against for having a villainous quirk, but we never see any proof of that, far from it. Everyone admires Shinsou and his quirk, the only one who gets worshiped more than him is Bakagou. He reminds me of Goob from “Meet the Robinsons.” This might be a result of his high insecurity and that he hates himself so much he can't tell how others really feel, but if that's the case it's not explored enough.

There’s also the fact that fans want to force him into everything with Aizawa and personally, I thought the relationship was okay at best. (This, of course, is petty of me and this is NOT me telling Shinsou fans they shouldn’t do this, it’s just something that annoys me personally.) For more info--search Shinsou critical on my page.

Twice- I feel bad for his past and how he dies, but other than that I do not care about him. And while I’ll probably get hate for this, Twice brought a lot of his troubles on himself. No, he didn’t deserve to be fired or to get a mark on his record, but he didn’t even try to get a job after he was fired. He just went straight to using his clones to commit criminal acts and then treated said clones like slaves till they rebelled. The latter I don’t blame him for as he had no idea each clone was sentient but I do blame him for the criminal acts he committed with his clones before that and all the acts he did with the LoV. Speaking of which, for someone who was supposed to be the heart of the villains but he has zero issues going to a camp to essentially murder children.

Irksome:

Eri- This is through no fault of her own, she just made of a bunch of tropes I hate personally, which summarized are; The overly tragic backstory, the power breaker powers, being forced into the story when there’s no need, no personality outside of being a sad woobie child / broken bird, and the Frozen effect. Again, none of this is her fault, it’s just a bunch of meta tropes I can’t stand and the only thing I like about her is that she has a cute design and her relationship with Mirio. For more information search Eri critical on my page.

Bakagou- If his writing was handled better I’d actually like Bakagou better, but as is it’s annoying how the manga treats him. He’s an arrogant brat who is never called out for being arrogant, just yells at everybody, and is stated to have the potential to be a hero when all he is is a good brawler and hurts more people than he helps. Plus, he tends to be forced into parts of the story where he’s not needed. And then there’s just the bullshit around him. I don’t care if you’re a Bakustan, you have to admit that the stuff in chapters 364-365 is insane even for a story about superheroes. (Search your feelings, you know this to be true!)

Dabi- I like his design and backstory, but other than that—we go up and down and around. I might feel better about him after I get some space, but for now, I just find him annoying.

Ugh!:

Shigaraki- A boring villain with an annoying personality. Honestly, he should have just been the first boss, then tossed aside in my opinion. Plus, like Eri, he is made up of meta tropes I really, REALLY hate. And, YMMV, his whole involvement in the story feels forced at times. The whole reason he’s the main antagonist is that he’s the grandson of All Might’s mentor which give a (space balls ref) vibe, ya know? Plus, for a guy who a world who wants to do whatever he wants there’s nothing he really seems to want. He has no goals except the ones AFO gives him and no real desires. Tago wants to do whatever she wants as well, but we know what she wants; to be accepted for who she is and drink all the blood she wants regardless of the consent issue or whether she kills someone.

To be fair, I believe that’s the point of his character but still. That all his desires are AFO who is taking him over, but they did that plot better with Six. Again, I believe Six would have been a better villain for the main manga and Shiggy should have been in Vigilantes as ironically Shiggy is a better contrast to Koichi. (More on that eventually.) As is, Shiggy and I don’t click and I find his personality annoying as hell.

Himiko Tago- Again, I feel bad that she never got the quirk therapy she needed but that doesn’t change the fact she is a self-absorbed terrorist who knew her action was wrong but did them anyway. I could forgive the first time she killed as that was a moment of passion after years of suppressing herself, and maybe even the second time, but after thirteen kills, she knew exactly what her actions were doing. Plus, it annoys me that she states that draining people of their blood and becoming them is how she shows she cares. Okay, so then why does she change back? Is there a time limit on her quirk? Plus, she talks about the people she “loves” so I guess her love was flimsy.

But what really sealed the deal was that she was staring at the consequences of her actions, seeing a city destroyed, people injured and dying, and hell, she even lost her friend, and yet her main focus was on herself. Then when she went to Ochako she wanted the poor girl to feel bad for her despite the fact

a) Ochako had spent hours trying to save people who were hurt and dying

b) Togo just her how she used Ochako’s quirk to murder someone

c)TAGO WAS PART OF THE REASON PEOPLE WERE HURT AND DYING!!

And yet despite All that, Ochako wasn’t even trying to hurt her! She called Tago out for her deeds and told her she had to accept the consequences of what she did. How fucking dare she?

Overhaul- I’ll keep it short as I don’t want to talk about him. I hated what he did to Eri and wish she rewound him out of existence. The only thing I liked about him was that he managed to knock Shiggy down a peg (before he lost his arms to him). Then when he came back, he was just pathetic. All in all, I hate him. End of story.

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