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lemonlover1110 · 1 month

Text

𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃

Choso

Pairing: Bass Guitarist!Choso x f!Reader

Summary: You usually hang out with Choso after his concerts, only this time he wants to talk about your relationship. Luckily for you, you know how to distract him from important matters.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Friends with Benefits, Car Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Squirting, Creampie, Angst if you squint

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

This art was sent in my server and I was forced to write about him in this AU, anyway I hope you lovelies enjoy!! likes and reblog always appreciated❤️

There’s a whole crowd that screams Choso’s name from the top of their lungs as his fingers strum against the strings of his bass. Choso, a very reserved man, someone who is not even the star of the band but the most beloved amongst fans. Is it because they barely know anything about him? Or is it because he looks too hot while he really gets into the song? For you, it’s the latter.

Choso lets himself loose as his mind, body and soul embrace the song. It becomes an issue for him to stay close to the microphone, until he realizes his vocals come up. He’s sweaty, his eyeshadow smudged and running down his cheeks; it’s a look that drives the fangirls wild, and you can’t exactly blame them for it.

They get louder when they hear Choso’s voice, and you wonder if it drives Suguru insane that even though he’s the lead vocalist, he doesn’t get as much attention as Choso. There’s just something about Choso that has everyone in a trance. He looks so seductive even when he barely tries.

The song ends, and the crowd cheers, wanting more from the band. For a moment the only thing you hear is the crowd chanting Choso’s name. You don’t understand why they go wild over him, but then again, you guess that the lack of knowledge about him makes him intriguing. However, you know all you need to know about him.

“I really don’t get why they go so crazy over him! I’d argue that Getou is hotter.” You yell to your friend, and she rolls her eyes. She knows you’re just talking to talk because given the option, you always choose Choso.

The noise dies as the sound of the bass begins again. All eyes are on Choso until Suguru begins to sing. Your eyes stay on Choso, and his eyes scan the crowd until they land on you. A smile comes onto his face as you maintain eye contact. His eyes finally look away, looking down at his guitar. You know you’ll be seeing each other later.

Just to tease you, he does something that he rarely does. Something that makes the crowd get louder, his tongue running up the neck of his guitar. You roll your eyes as your cheeks get hot. You fucking hate him.

You have no issue getting backstage after the show. The security guard looks at your friend funny, but he knows you so he assumes that she’s okay to pass. He doubts that anyone will have a problem since you’re beloved among the band members.

“Hi, Lexi.” You wave at the woman who talks with her boyfriend. Suguru’s arm is thrown over her shoulders while they head to the door that you just walked through. She waves at you, blowing a kiss your way before focusing on her boyfriend again.

“Where’s Gojo?” Your friend asks, her eyes searching for the white haired man, after all, she joined you just because she knew you could get her the opportunity to talk to Satoru. You were going to come either way since Choso sent you a message, it didn’t hurt for her to tag along.

You’re about to help her, but your eyes land on Choso. There’s a subtle smile on his face when he notices you. He walks toward you, and you completely ignore your friend as she continues asking about Satoru. She rolls her eyes, knowing damn well that you were acting tough and annoyed as everyone chanted Choso’s name because according to you he isn’t a big deal. It’s clear jealousy.

From what she knows, you and Choso have an unusual friendship– Which is another way of saying that you’re friends with benefits. You both came to an agreement where you could use each other’s bodies with no strings attached, however, tonight it might all come to an end. Whether you like it or not.

“I’m glad to see you here.” Choso says as you give him a side hug. You don’t like to get too touchy while others are around. He still kisses the top of your head, before he looks at your friend. “Who did you bring with you tonight?”

“Just my friend. She wants to meet Gojo.” You tell him, as his fingers intertwine with yours. Choso calls out for Satoru, hoping that the sooner your friend meets Satoru, the sooner you’ll get out of the place. Although getting out of the place so soon isn’t the best idea since there’s still an army of fans outside that will do just about anything to get a picture with Choso.

The band’s popularity has increased over the past couple of months, and suddenly Choso always has someone throwing themselves at him. It ticks you off more than you’d like to admit.

“What?” Satoru asks, clear annoyance in his voice. He notices you and he begins to approach you to give you a hug, but it earns a glare from Choso. All the members know you well and they consider you a good friend, which means they all know your situation with Choso. When Satoru notices the look, he sticks with a simple greeting. “Hey.”

“Hi, Gojo.” You smile at him. You then point to your friend, informing him, “She’s here to meet you.”

“Are you her ride home?” Choso questions, and you shake your head in response. She brought you here knowing that you would go your separate ways after the concert. She saw the message that Choso had left on your phone, and she urged you to come. “Does that mean we can leave?”

“I think so.” You answer. You still check to see if she’s okay being left alone with Satoru before leaving. When she says yes, you lead Choso out of the building. Your eyes stare at the case of his guitar and you ask, “Do you need help? I’m really strong, just so you know.”

He laughs, “No doubt about it, but I can handle it.”

“You’re in a hurry.” Choso comments when you step outside. He takes the lead, dragging you to his car.

“Weren’t you the one that was asking if we could leave?” You chuckle, and he laughs as well. He opens the trunk to put the case in before walking to the passenger door and opening it for you. He watches you get inside before he shuts the door for you. He nearly runs to the driver’s side, embarrassingly impatient.

“Do you want to join Lexi and Suguru tonight? Or what do you want to do?” Choso isn’t exactly the person to go hang out with his friends after a concert, especially at a bar. But he knows that you like that sort of stuff, so he sticks with you until you’re ready to go back home– Or back to his apartment, whichever place is closest to the place you’re hanging out in.

“Can we just go back to your place?” You respond, your eyes focused on his side profile. You were too jealous earlier to admire just how good he looks tonight.

“Can we talk about–” He begins, but you grab the collar of his shirt and put your lips on his before he can finish his sentence. You know he wants to talk about the message that he sent, something that made you want to stay home tonight. Can we talk about us? Or something along those lines, you just know that you don’t want to change this perfect arrangement.

Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hands go to his belt. He doesn’t know why you’re so eager tonight, it doesn’t click in his head. Maybe the little trick from earlier worked to rile you up, and he’s certain that it was that when you unbutton his pants and begin to pull them down.

“Here? Aren’t you scared–” He begins when you pull away from the kiss but you begin to kiss his neck. Your lips go to that one sweet spot that makes him weak, sucking on it. You aren’t scared that you’ll get caught, that’s good to know. He’s the one that should be worried about getting caught since he’s the one that has to hold a public image.

The parking lot is private, and it’s pretty much empty. He isn’t too worried about that.

“Don’t you want to go somewhere more private?” He still asks but he doesn’t bother to stop you as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around the base and slowly stroking it.

“We can talk later. Right now, I need your cock in my mouth.” You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. You begin to kiss the tip, causing Choso to bite down his lip. He’s certainly not going to stop now.

Your mouth wraps around his cock, hearing the moan whimper just at the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Everything you do drives him wild. It’s why he can’t stop you when he wants to talk about more serious issues– Issues that concern your relationship and what you’re doing.

He doesn’t like it like this though. He loves the sight of your pretty face as your mouth is wrapped around his cock. He still loves the feeling though. He praises you, “You’re doing so good, baby.”

You take all of him in your mouth, gagging on his length which causes the tears to build up in your eyes. It’s a sight that usually drives the man wild, although he doesn’t like to admit it; unluckily for him, he only sees the back of your head.

His head is thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You have complete control over him, and he hates it. But he certainly loves the way he feels at the moment. When the tears fall from your eyes, you lift up your head, detaching yourself from his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his cock.

“Can we do it here?” You ask him as your thighs rub against one another, the heat between your legs getting too unbearable. Your libido is too high, you can’t wait to go back to his place. You need him now.

Choso’s cheeks are flushed, and the man’s brain goes a thousand miles per minute. What you’re thinking of is riskier, and if anyone walks by, you’ll get caught. But he doesn’t care. He needs you too.

“Yeah, let’s do it here.” He agrees, and you crawl over to his side. You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side. Two of his fingers run through your folds, noting just how wet you are when he’s done nothing to you. The mere thought of him drives you insane.

You align his cock with your entrance before slowly sitting on it. His lips land on yours, feeling your moans vibrate through your tongue as you move on his cock.

You move back and forth on his cock. You feel euphoric as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot.

Choso pulls away, grabbing the back of your neck to pull your face away. He needs to admire your beautiful face, taking in every single detail about it. You look so alluring with your messed up makeup. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, and he gets a sense of satisfaction knowing that he caused it.

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, his nose burying in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, getting more intoxicated by you. You’re controlling all of his thoughts lately, even though you’re not even trying.

“You’re so big.” You say, your back arching as Choso begins to thrust his hips instead of leaving it to you to handle it all. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, giving you more stimulation so your high approaches sooner. The faster you finish, the faster you can go again. “Oh– Choso!”

“Fuck–” He can’t help but curse. He’s getting so lost inside of you. In more ways than one.

His hand pulls down your tank top, and the man gets upset at the bra that gets in the way of what he wants. He pulls down the cups of your bra so his tongue circles around your nipples. He greedily kisses and licks before his mouth finally wraps around one of your tits.

His other hand begins to toy with the nipple that isn’t in his mouth, teasing it and pinching it. All the stimulation makes your brain foggy as your climax begins to get the best of you. You continue to chant his name, getting louder and louder.

“Oh, fuck!” You yell as you come around his cock. You make a mess all over him, squirting on him. You’d be embarrassed with someone else, but Choso has seen you do so much worse– It helps that you know he absolutely loves it. Choso bites down on your nipple before unlatching.

“You’re such a good girl. Making a mess all over me.” His hands move to your hips, his nails digging into your flesh.

“You always take me so well.” He’s kissing your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy. His warm cum fills you up not too long after, and you bite down your bottom lip to not moan. You fucking love it when he fills you up, but he rarely does it. He got too caught up in the moment.

He stays buried inside of you, continuing kissing your neck, going up to your face. He almost whispers, “Can we talk?”

“Your dick is buried inside of me, might as well.” You chuckle, and he awkwardly returns the gesture. His soft eyes look into yours, and the look tells you all you need to know. You were suspecting it since lately Choso has been more… Romantic than what you had agreed upon. Getting flowers weekly isn’t what your friend is supposed to do.

“I want you.” He can’t put it any other way. Choso’s written what feels like hundreds of songs but he can’t find the right words to express himself. You don’t want to have this conversation now, or any time soon for that matter.

You take advantage of his indistinct way of expressing himself. It's not that you don't want him the same way, it's just easier to keep what you have going on. Choso is getting too big so fast, you don't want to start something that'll end up badly. Which is simply ironic.

You reach to the side of the seat, reclining the seat, pushing his back down. Your lips go to his ear, whispering, “You have me.”

It’s not the way he means it, not one bit. But he’ll take it until he can express himself properly.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu choso #choso #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #kamo choso #choso x you #kamo choso smut #choso x y/n #choso x reader smut

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orionremastered · 3 months

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I’m actually so obsessed with the way you write the boys like🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

why thank you anon this made me smile

and because im nice (school hasn't started yet)

Masterlist

911 Texting the Batboys

Dick Grayson

Exactly one minute after you send him the text, the living room window shatters into a million pieces across the floor. Nightwing calls your name, voice raw with concern, before surveying the state of your apartment.

"Oh," you say quietly by the kitchen, staring at the broken pieces of glass across the floor and then at your boyfriend who stares at you, chest heaving as he looks at you, confused.

"You're not hurt?"

"Well— I— the pan caught fire. I put it out though. I'm not burnt, I promise."

He looks at you doubtfully, storming over before pulling you into a tight embrace. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Don't be. It's okay. Don't be scared to text me if you're in any trouble. Promise you'll let me know if you're in danger?"

"I promise."

"Good," he mutters, though more as a reassurance for himself, resting his head on yours and breathing deeply.

"You can let me go now," you point out gently.

"Two more minutes."

Jason Todd

When your boyfriend takes longer to show up than expected, you start to get confused. And cold— it's the middle of winter and your hoodie was stolen while you were out with your friends.

And that wouldn't be a problem if you're car wasn't starting either.

The familiar roar of a motorcycle engine catches your attention, dark shape speeding down the street towards you. It skids to a stop, the tires screeching in order to slow.

"Hey," you say with a wave and a smile. "Car broke down and—"

Red Hood rushes off his motorbike, carefully grabbing you to look you over in the empty street. When he finds nothing, he sighs. "Thought you'd been kidnapped. Couldn't find you at your apartment."

Without waiting for your reply, he shrugs his brown leather jacket off his shoulders and places it around yours, helping you put your arms into the sleeves despite you protesting that you can do it yourself.

"Let's get you home," he says gruffly, aching to hold you in his embrace when no one can see. "I'll call in a favour to get your car fixed."

Tim Drake

You don't think you'd ever been more embarrassed in your life when you realised you forgot your phone, which has your card in the case, at home.

Tim rushes into the store, having tracked your location immediately and driving well over the speed limit, still in his pristine CEO outfit.

"What's wrong? Is someone bothering you?" his eyes dart around the store, taking everyone's face and putting it to memory.

"No... I forgot my phone and card. And I have a full cart of groceries. Tim, I can't put this all back, that's weird."

"Why didn't you ask me to pay before?"

"I— hmm. I'll do that next time."

You lead him to the counter were the high school aged cashier gapes at the richest man in Gotham who pays for the food without even glancing at the price.

Damian Wayne

When you texted 911 to your boyfriend, you certainly weren't expecting this. Somehow, in the five minutes of the text being sent, he managed to gather ten League of Assassins members that now stand in your suddenly very cramped apartment, sharp katanas at their side.

"Are you alright?" Damian himself has two katanas, glinting in the terrible lights. "What's wrong?"

It seems so stupid now with ten assassins behind him. Maybe you shouldn't have texted after all. "Look, it's really—"

"I don't care how little it is," he states, "You texted me for a reason."

"I... I thought I could hear someone talking and moving in the walls."

All eleven of them tense, exchanging glances. Damian gives them one sharp nod and the assassins begin locating any hollow spaces in the walls, tapping their knuckles and listening closely to the sounds.

"وجدت ذلك," one says after a few seconds.

"Don't worry about it habibi, we'll tear the building apart and find them," Damian assures you, pulling you into his arms.

#batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

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birdiewriteslit · 4 months

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omg omg i would LOVVVEEE if like [reader] and luke were dating behind percy’s back cuz of how sassy he would be n stuff but after like a date or kiss from luke the reader would gush about it to either annabeth, grover, or clarisse and one of them tells percy by accident during a convo and then percy like goes up to reader and confronts the reader about it and like scolds the reader and give them a whole lecture about how luke isn’t the right guy then luke overhears and like joins in <333

i love this idea!!

luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: persassy (once again), fluff, mention of kissing, ignorance of the plot of the show for the sake of my happiness

nobody: me gaslighting myself into thinking i could fix luke:

You and your boyfriend had an agreement. Your relationship was private. It wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it was private.

This was a conclusion you came to before Percy arrived at camp, before you knew you had a brother. At first, you didn’t care much if he figured it out.

That was until you realized what a sassafras he was.

Percy was always sassing you about chores, about activities, and especially about camp boys.

You thought it was cute in the beginning, your little brother being protective over you, but then it became a real nuisance.

“Y/n, stay away from the Ares boys, I don’t like them.”

“Y/n, don’t date an Apollo guy, he’d write you some crappy poetry.”

“Y/n, for the love of gods, stay away from the Dionysus twins, I never want to have Mr. D as a relative.”

These were the types of things you would hear throughout the day as Percy got to know the other campers better.

You thought it better if you kept a low profile when you were around Luke, at least until Percy calmed down a little.

Most of the older campers knew about your relationship, but they were used to it and rarely talked about it.

“Having marriage problems?” Annabeth asked you one day during arts and crafts, where you were both about to give up on your ugly collaborative birdhouse.

“What? I’m not married,” you said, trying to fix a particularly garish looking bird.

She set her paintbrush down, officially proving she was over it. “Obviously. I mean Luke. I noticed you haven’t been around each other as much.”

You could tell she was a little worried. She wouldn’t be asking if she wasn’t. Annabeth had known you and Luke longer than any other campers, and she looked up to both of you. Plus, she always wanted to know about your experience with romance.

“It’s not what you think, Annabeth. We’re really fine,” you said. “In fact, just last night, he took me out on the dock.”

Your nightly meetups with Luke had always been a thing, but had become more frequent as of late.

“And?” Annabeth prompted.

“And, we hung out.” You were now furiously painting over the entire bird you failed to fix.

“You mean you made out,” she said, giving you a knowing look.

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you were interested in that part,” you said. “Now pick up that paintbrush, missy. I’m not doing this whole thing myself.”

Annabeth reluctantly dipped the brush in some blue paint, looking like she wanted more details about your date.

Private means private, you thought dismissively.

At campfire, you discovered that private didn’t mean private. You were sitting alone when Percy plopped down next to you. You frowned because you were saving that spot for Luke.

“Annabeth has just told me something very interesting,” he said, glaring at the spot where Luke stood, talking to one of his brothers.

“What would that be, Perce?” you said absentmindedly.

“Apparently Luke was macking on you last night.” He made a sound to imitate vomiting.

You grimaced. “Please never say that word again.”

“So? Is it true or not true?”

You sighed. No point in denying it now. “It’s true.”

Percy somehow managed to look even more disgusted. “Ew, why him?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, gee, I don’t know, maybe because I’ve known him for years, he’s kind, strong, and handsome. Wouldn’t you think that had something to do with it?”

“Oh, gods, forget I even asked,” Percy said, retching. “I just think you could do better. Look at all of these lovely candidates. Apollo guys are poets.”

“I thought that was too cringe for you.”

He ignored you and went on, “A Hephaestus guy could forge you some nice jewelry, and Athena guys are smart. You deserve a smart guy. Not Luke, no, he doesn’t have any good qualities like that.”

You noticed a figure approaching you over Percy’s shoulder, and you tried your best to hide the amused smile threatening to break across your face as Luke came to a stop behind him, waiting for the right moment to interrupt.

“All in all, Y/n, I think Luke’s a pretty bad guy for you. You should really reconsider.”

“Oh, I’m a bad guy, am I?” Luke finally spoke up, smirking as Percy slowly turned around to see him peering down at him.

“Not like a bad guy- just, you know, not right for my sister,” Percy said, his confidence leaving him.

“What makes me not right for her?” Luke asked, clearly loving the reaction he was getting.

“I- uh- you know,” Percy stammered.

“Oh, knock it off, Luke. Leave the poor kid alone,” you said, failing to hide your laughter.

“That sound is music to my ears,” Luke said seriously. Jeez, he was really laying it on thick.

Percy’s face returned to the look of disgust. “I’ll be leaving now,” he excused himself, hurrying off to where Grover and Annabeth were sitting on the other side of the fire. You could still see him glaring at Luke as he sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You leaned into him, relishing in the combined warmth of the fire and his body heat. “What do you think? Am I getting sassed out tomorrow?” Luke asked, looking down at you.

“No, he looked pretty grossed out. I’m hoping he just avoids the topic altogether,” you said, trailing your fingers over the fabric of his shirt.

“We both know that’s not going to happen,” he concluded, smiling as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #daughter of poseidon #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #persassy

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priniya · 7 months

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Can you please write a comfort fic about jealous theo x reader? Maybe he gets jealous and then over thinks the situation so the reader comforts him?

If not that’s totally fine no stress! Thank you!

🧸 BEAUTIFUL BOY

synopsis. thedore nott gets jealous over his girlfriend’s friendship with mattheo.

notes. theodore nott x girlfriend!reader. established relationship, jealous theodore.

theo hated jealousy.

as a child, he used to be very possessive of his things, which always resulted in silly arguments with his cousins, when he threw a tantrum over a tantrum if someone touched some of his toys. as he grow up, he began to realize how much he saw his father in himself, so nott promised himself to never show that side of him again.

and he didn’t. theodore would always bottle up his feelings and then lash it all out at someone, who accidentally got into his path, and made one mistake, receiving a rough punch in the face afterwards.

that was until he met you — the meaning of his life, the sunshine to his grumpy, the member to make his family be found or anything that would make your stomach erupts in butterflies if he said that out loud. you gave him a new point of view, the one that let him feel… lightly, feel relieved about his problems. it was refreshing, really.

he should’ve known from the beginning that you, and your best friend come in a package. and he should’ve known, because the three of you were great friends even before you two started dating.

at first, it was nothing. a mere thought that occurred to him on a sleepless night, vanishing right after his brain was clouded with exhaustion, eyes falling shut. then, the strange feeling of bottled up jealousy got him.

your boyfriend started noticing all those small things that had never really mattered to him before. the way matt’s eyes always lit up when you entered the room, how he laughed at your jokes, how his hands somehow always found its way to wrap around you, or just touch you.

jesus. it made his blood boil, every single time. the outcome would easily disappoint you if you knew right away. when theo hated his possessive side, you despised when he fought random people at parties — even though it was awfully attractive to see him all angry, you hated patching him up, being a witness of every small wince, a gasp, or a hiss as you pressed a gauze to his face. you always thought of consequences as well, what if someone told the teachers or what if it ended up as a case in ministry of magic?

you wouldn’t even know that your boyfriend was struggling with endless thoughts of you, leaving him for mattheo. thank god that you were blessed with lorenzo, who apparently couldn’t keep his mouth shut (“i wouldn’t spill it, nott! you were just sulking, i had to tell her!”).

at the beginning, you just thought it was a silly prank the boys tried to pull on you – to see if you reacted in anyway, or to just mess with your head a little. the perspective changed as soon as you noticed how stiff theo would get, whenever riddle joined you. it was all confirmed, when he began avoiding you like plague.

“teddy.” you sighed, barging into his dorm (ironically, shared with mattheo) without knocking. “we have to talk.” the way you phrased it was enough to make him straighten up in his bed.

in his eyes, you were about to break up with him and reason it that you just didn’t love him anymore, and fell in love with your best friend. he could hear his heart shattering into pieces, see the tears that would dig holes in his cheeks as soon as you leave the room.

“something happened, baby?” he asked, trying his hardest to brush off the pain, accumulating in the back of his head. “did i upset you in any way?”

theodore watched you get closer to him, resting your arms against the wooden frame. “well, was there a reason to get upset?” your eyebrows were lifted as you made eye contact with him. “hm?”

a long sighed left his lips. he stood up from the bed, leaving his sheets all messy. he took a step forward, close enough to wrap his arms around your body, trying to get you as close as possible. “y/n…” he hummed, bringing his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your shoulder.

it always worked if he tried to calm you down. not this time though.

“can you tell me what’s going on with you?” you asked. taking a few steps back, because you were mad at him and not a single kiss could change your mind (it could, you were just delusional). “did i do something to upset you?” you knew the answer, whatsoever you wanted to hear it from him.

“no– no, baby. why are you saying that?” theo frowned.

“so, you’ve been avoiding me all week long just for the funsies?”

shit, he thought. so you noticed it all. noticed how distant he grew. his eyes closed for a second and you really believed he would brush you off again, just like he did all this week. “it’s stupid.” he turned his head towards you. “i was jealous.”

your silence has pulled on his tongue. “of how mattheo acts around you, and uh. i got scared that if i tell you about it, you’re either gonna laugh at me or agree with my worries and leave me for matt.”

“teddy.” the way you were still using his nickname eased his worries a bit. “i love you, okay? only you, always you.” you confessed, dropping the L bomb for the first time in your relationship, finally feeling ready to. it made his heart flutter, soo much it almost pained him.

“you do?” you chuckled at his words, giving up the tough girlfriend act, your palms cupping his cheeks, bringing him a little closer. “y/n, i am so sorry, i should’ve talked to you.” his arms wrapped around your waist, forehead falling onto your shoulder.

“you should have.” the words rolled on your tongue in a soft manner as you placed a few kisses on his temple, nails gently scratching his nape. “i see where you’re coming from, but you gotta talk to me about things like that.”

it took theo five seconds to pick you up and throw you on his bed, cuddling up to you as you whispered sweet nothings into his ear, reassuring him of your feelings.

“but if you could, you’d choose me over anyone?” theo lifted his eyebrows at you, and you couldn’t hold a giggle back.

“well, over anyone?” you teased, grinning. “i could never not choose pansy.”

#theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theo nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott rec #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott rec #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott x you

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jasmines-library · 24 days

Note

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad.

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience.

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought.

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency.

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped.

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit.

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage.

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it.

“Who?”

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond.

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth.

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack.

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone.

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin.

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion.

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped.

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.”

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge.

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up.

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.”

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see.

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again.

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching.

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail.

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place.

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched.

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black.

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls.

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon.

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city.

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you.

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically.

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away.

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself.

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest.

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety.

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely.

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke. You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over.

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke.

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged.

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle.

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

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BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

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norrizzandpia · 26 days

Note

i think this would suit lando but you being down and lando comes over later at night and takes you the park like two little kids, i can just imagine lando being a big kid at the park lmao

I’m going to need someone to love me like the fictional lando i write abt 24/7

We Can Be Kids For Right Now (LN4)

Summary: When her week has tried to suffocate her, Lando turns up at her door and forces her to remember just how worthy she truly is.

Warnings: mentions of heavy anxiety attacks, anxiety in general, language

Note: a draft bc im wrecked rn from this trip im on im so tried lol… I hate that I have to start saying this but I do not condone the reposting of my work without proper crediting or permission. If you wish to post my works elsewhere, it needs to be ran by me first by messages over Tumblr. If found that you have taken my works without my knowledge, I will report you and get my posts taken down from your blog.

Y/n never truly realized she did it until Lando, but when the man started to get close to her, he brought it to her attention that she so easily isolated herself when she started struggling. Even the smallest inconvenience and she shut down, something that irritated the hell out of Lando. Nevertheless, he loved her and the way she dealt with her emotions was something he knew she just needed to work on.

However, the problem they couldn’t get past was her ability to tell him when she was struggling. There were only so many times when he could see it written all over her face.

His comments urging her to open up to him when she was having a hard time dealing with it on her own bounced around in her head as she clutched her phone in her hands, his contact picture brightening her screen. His smile beamed back at her, almost coaxing her into tapping the call button, but her thumb hesitated. It wasn’t that she was afraid of telling him, it was that she was uncomfortable with her own emotions. Uncomfortable of leaning into them. Growing up, she was never given that ability, her parents not having the full capacity to address them head on. She never thought it truly affected her until Lando. She started realizing that he never gave her a problem to be scared, but she still was.

Her thumb had a mind of its own, though. Thankfully. And the ringing tone met her ears before she could even know what was happening. His picking up happened before she could even begin to think about hanging up the phone.

“Baby!” His cheery voice rang through the quiet room and warmed her tender heart. “What’s up? Why are you up so late? Do you want a sweet treat again?” He giggled, his TV pausing in the background.

She was silent. Her mind raced as she tried to make the split second decision of telling him or not. Though, in her silence, he began formulating an answer.

“Y/n…” He whispered, blankets rustling as she imagined him sitting up on his couch.

“Lan,” She said brokenly, albeit with an effort of trying to sound strong.

Keys rustling and his rushed, “I’m on my way, baby,” were her response.

—

Lando knew where the spare key was. It was one of the first things he asked the location of after they first said I love you. Y/n would always laugh at that memory. What she was expecting after the three words were shared was a small kiss or a hug maybe, but no, he had asked her where her spare key was. When she showed him and he very clearly took a mental note of it, she asked him what was so important about it.

“I’m your boyfriend and we’re in love. I should know where the spare key is, baby.” He had said to her so nonchalantly, as if it was societally normal to have that thought process. She just shook her head at him and took the kiss she wanted for herself. He wasn’t going to do it anyway, too entranced in the image of her spare key under her doormat. He was shenanigans bundled into one person. She loved it.

His rapping on the door pulled her from her memories. She drudged over, taking a deep breath before opening the door. He stood there in his pajamas, puffer coat thrown over haphazardly, and stared at her sympathetically. He shuffled in, arm rounding around her shoulders as he kissed her head, “Hard day?”

She sighed, “Hard week.”

He led her to the couch. The layout of her apartment was memorized in his head. “What happened?”

“I just-” She picked at her fingernails and the anxiety she usually felt when Lando asked about her worries began bubbling up. Maybe it was growth, but she thought he’s already here, isn’t he? Might as well lean on him.

So, she did. Literally and figuratively.

Lando squeezed her body as her side laid on his and she started reliving the low moments of the past few days. “Everything has gone wrong this week. I just can’t seem to win and I can’t make anyone happy.”

Tears filled her eyes and a frown appeared on her face. She cried into his shoulder when he pushed her body further into it.

Lando sat with her for a moment, rubbing her back. “That’s not true, Y/n. You make a lot of people happy. You make me really happy.”

For some reason, his comment shot fear through her body and she pulled from him. Her eyes looked anywhere other than his and the irrational idea of an expectation Lando had set for her that she did not believe in herself to meet took control of whatever plan she had to open up to him.

Lando saw it in her eyes, how distant they got. He knew this was bound to happen. It had been too easy. She had opened up to him without that much restraint and he expected a moment to come where her walls rebuilt themselves.

He just wanted her to let him in.

His hands took her face, “You deserve me. You will not let me down. You could never let me down.” He said, knowing exactly what was running through her mind.

“Y/n, look at me.” He tilted his head to meet her eyes and forced her to keep his stare, “I love you. That will never change.”

She cried harder, “I can’t even open up to you, Lan. I’m not even a good employee at a job I’m overqualified for. Yesterday, I handed in that presentation to my boss that I had been working on for weeks and when I presented it to the board of all fucking people, there was a grammatical error on one of the slides. I had confused ‘your’ and ‘you are’, Lan. It was embarrassing. They laughed and joked about it after. I can’t even fucking do my job. And I upset my mum on Wednesday. I hung up on her during an argument and now she isn’t talking to me. I’m being condemned, Lan. I can’t fucking breathe. My dad’s texting me, telling me how disrespectful I had been, but nobody hears about the parts where she called me an irresponsible adult and ridiculed me for taking a job that didn’t make me that much. Nobody wants to hear my side of the story, the part where she was so grossly unsupportive. Then, I had to cancel on Cameron on Tuesday again because I’m so fucking tired and so fucking busy. She got mad at me and now we’re in this fight because I’ve neglected our friendship. I’m a shit friend, a shit daughter, a shit worker, and it’s so obvious I’m a shit girlfriend. I can’t fucking do anything right.”

By the end of her rant, she was breathless and Lando could see she was talking herself into an anxiety attack. Her hurtful words toward herself needed to be dealt with, but he needed to stop the panic seeping into her skin.

He took her hand and kissed her head, “Come with me, my love.”

She kept crying as he led her to his car, his arm wrapped around her body securely as he whispered words of reassurance in her ear. He reminded her of how strong she was, of how much he loved her and admired her for everything she was. How wrong she was about everything she had convinced herself of.

When he softly laid her in the passenger seat, he kneeled down and kissed her shoulder, brushing her hair off the skin lightly. He looked up at her with deep green eyes filled with safety, “Don’t listen to your mind right now, baby. It’s only telling you lies.”

He lightly closed the door, running around the car to slip into the driver’s seat. When he turned the engine on, his hand settled on her thigh and began rubbing softly. He backed down and drove down the road, toward a small park at the end of her street. It was quick, maybe a minute or two, and Y/n was still crying when they parked, but it subsided momentarily when she saw where they were.

“Why are we at the park?” Lando grabbed her hand and kissed the knuckles.

He laid his cheek down on the back of her palm, murmuring, “Because it’ll be fun to be kids for right now. Not have to think about what you’re going through. We can address that later.”

A sigh of relief left her chest. The moment he had given her an opportunity to run away from it all, even for a few minutes, she almost began to feel as though she would find peace.

He always knew exactly what to do.

She gathered herself, wiping away the tears and smoothing down her hair as Lando walked back to her door, opening it and offering his hand as help for her to get out of the car. She took it. She always would. The cold air hit her body and she shivered. Lando was immediate in offering her his coat.

She shook her head, “No, I’m okay for right now.” She was just now realizing how she hadn’t gone outside in days. The cold air made her feel alive again.

Lando’s hand continued to clutch hers as they took steps toward the large structure. When she let go of his, he tensed, but he relaxed when he saw her wandering over to the slides.

She climbed up the ladder, him following behind, and found herself sat in the entryway of the whirling slide.

“Wait, wait!” Lando yelped before she could push herself down. Her head whipped around to meet his eyes.

She smiled and her body warmed when his found a seat behind her, his body consuming her and his hands wrapping around the low point of her waist. His ear right beside her ear, he kissed the top of the skin, “Now, you can go. We can go down faster, no? Seeing as I go fast for a living.”

His questionable logic made her laugh before he was pushing them off and the two were turning fast around the corner of the yellow tube. Her giggling ensued with the way he jostled them around on purpose to make the slide more exhilarating for two twenty-four year olds. And in the heat of the moment, seeing her hair float in the air and a carefree smile on her face, Lando wished she could see herself the way he did. She was superb, unbelievable. She held the strength and courage of someone so commendable. She was kind even when she had seen things and experienced trauma so young that should’ve, understandably so, made her bitter. She was merciful even when she shouldn’t be and she loved Lando in a way he had only ever dreamed of. The way she treated him, the gentleness she approached him with, was something he knew he could never let go of. She was beautiful in so many other ways than just her appearance. She was deeply beautiful and he wished she could just understand that.

When they reached the end, their bodies stopping abruptly right at the edge, Y/n laid her head back against his shoulder. He kissed her temple, “Fun?”

She nodded with a smile, “Somehow, you did make it faster.”

He shot her a look, as if to question why she didn’t believe him in the first place. He pushed her off him, sprinting to the swings and screaming for her to follow him.

“Lando! Be quiet! You’ll wake up the entire neighborhood!” She whisper-yelled at him, laughing as she ran after him.

He threw himself in the seat and began swinging his legs, no doubt gaining momentum but beckoning her over for help nonetheless.

She stood behind him, bracing herself firmly on the ground as she pushed his heavy body up off the ground. When he would meet her back on the ground, he’d lean back so his back would almost come crashing into her front. It made her laugh.

“Lando!” He couldn’t see her, but he knew how radiant she must’ve been looking. Even in his head, he continued to fall in love with her.

She kept pushing him until her arms got tired and she flopped away from him, onto the ground, in a heap of heavy breaths. When he didn’t feel her small hands on his back anymore, he jumped off the swing and joined her on the ground.

It didn’t matter how cold it was or how dirty it inevitably was, they were together and Y/n’s smile lingered on her pretty face.

Lando’s hand laced with hers in between their bodies as he softly whispered, “You’re not a shit daughter, your parents don’t know what they have and they’re too emotionally immature to realize that. You’re not a shit friend, Cameron knows that, you’re just struggling and that’s okay. You’re not a shit worker, you’re actually heavily valuable to your boss and the people around you. They’ve all told you that. And Y/n, look at me,” She turned her head to meet his meaningful ones, “You are not a shit girlfriend. You are the complete opposite. You are everything I’ve ever wanted and could ever ask for. You have no idea how in love with you I am. It’s even hard for me to understand sometimes. There is no one I have ever loved, love, or will love more than you. You are the most important thing to me, so please stop talking about yourself in this way and believing in something that has never been true.”

Everything about the moment is gentle. From the way his thumb caressed her skin to the enunciation of every word that came from his mouth, he made it clear how much love prospers for her within him every day and every minute.

She turned on her side and took his cheek in her hand, “Thank you for helping me, Lan.”

His hand squeezed her waist, “Of course, my love. You’re my favorite.”

She felt her heart blush, if that’s even possible. Maybe her face was the one blushing? She didn’t know. The way Lando looked at her as if she started life itself made her mind feel fuzzy.

Fuzzy enough to realize he was right. She wasn’t a failure or a horrible person. She was a human who made mistakes and many people loved her in spite of it. Lando being one of them.

He loved her in a way she had always craved. She both needed and wanted him. So did he. They were the beginning and end of everything for the other. It showed well that night as they held each other on the concrete of that park. It showed well because, at one am on a random Saturday, Lando had dropped everything he has doing the moment he heard the anguish in her voice. It showed well because Lando’s clear words made Y/n realize he wanted her and no one else. There was no one else like her, no one to ever replace her. Not that he would ever want that anyway. She was completely unique in the most precious way and maybe… just maybe… she was beginning to realize that too.

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strawnarrries · 7 months

Text

We Fight, We Make Up

Summary: Harry gets turned on when you yell at him.

Requested: Nope

POV: 2nd

Word count: 3.4k

Warning(s): Unprotected sex, slight degradation, slight spanking

The argument happened before the night even started. You didn't even wanna go. You wanted to stay in the hotel with your husband. Alone. Without having to share him with anyone else. Recently, you have been missing him. Yes, you see him every day and fall asleep with him every night; but you felt like you had to share him with the entire world. When he wasn't on stage in front of his thousands of fans, he was either at the gym or working with his team, writing new songs, and talking about new plans.

Tonight was one of his rare nights off and of course, he and his team wanted to go out. He wanted you to go with him and you did, but you were grumpy from the moment he brought it up to the moment you're at with him now.

You were arguing while you got ready. Harry didn't understand where you were coming from. You were on tour with him. You were with him every day, went everywhere that he went, and got to sleep next to him every night. He thought you were being a bit needy and selfish. He didn't say that to you of course, but he definitely voiced that he thought you were being irrational.

Once you had met everyone in the hotel lobby, you both put on your brave faces, not wanting to draw any attention to your problems. You tried to forget about your current struggles and have fun while you could. Neither of you drank that much. You just were not in the mood and Harry had a show the next day. It was only occasional that he would drink while on tour, but never when he had a show the next day.

Once the night was over, the argument continued.

"Y/N, baby, I dunno what you want me to do. We're on tour, this is my work. I can't spend every second with you."

"Oh my god, Harry. You know I'm not asking you to spend every second with me. I just want some alone time with you. I told you I feel like I have to share you with everyone and never get any time just you and me."

"But we do get alone time. We got a whole room to ourselves. I give you a cuddle while we fall asleep every night. Why is that not enough?"

"It's not about being enough. It's about me feeling like you're not prioritizing me or wanting to spend any time with me."

"This is the first tour that you've been able to come with me for every show. This is what it's like. I don't get alone time. This is my job. I can't just drop it all to spend time with you."

You were starting to get angry, "You don't work every hour of the day! Tonight - I told you beforehand that I didn't wanna go and I wanted to stay here with you but you wanted to go out instead."

"Well, yeah because I've got a night off and wanted to have fun with everyone."

"Exactly! Everyone. You didn't wanna spend time with me. You spend time with them every fucking day and the one day you have off you choose to be with them."

"Y/N, you-" he started before you cut him off, your voice raising in frustration, "Harry, you're my fucking husband! I shouldn't have to beg you to spend time with just me!"

All of a sudden, a cheeky, slightly evil smirk arose on his lips and his eyes scanned your body up and down. It was very rare that you got angry when you argue with him, you usually just get really sad. Your disagreements are usually quiet and filled with tears. It was your least favorite thing to do. You hated having serious conversations with Harry and couldn't help but cry when they happened. Harry was a sympathetic cryer so when you cried, he cried. In the 10 years that you and Harry have been together, you only yelled at him in an argument probably 4 times. So, he found this moment quite amusing.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?"

"I'm not," he chuckled looking up at your angry eyes.

He kept that smirk on his lips as he stared at you deeply, your blood beginning to boil as a breathy giggle left his lips.

"Oh my god, I'm so sick of this," you snapped, turning around and getting ready to storm into the bathroom.

"Y/N, stop."

He was quick to grab your arm, pulling him into you and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from running from him. Placing both hands on his hips, you glared up at him, "What?"

He didn't reply, his eyes bore into yours while he was pushing your hips against his, jutting his out to show you exactly what he was feeling. You could feel his tight bulge straining in his slacks against your pelvis and you could not believe what was happening.

"You're hard?" you replied as your lips mindlessly curved up in amusement, "Why?"

"Dunno, you rarely yell at me when we argue. It's kinda sexy," he replied, his voice slow and deep.

"What?" You were the one laughing now, "You're not supposed to get turned on. You're supposed to get pissed at me."

"I am pissed at you. But you're fuckin' cute when you get angry." He looked you up and down once more before adding, "Might be this outfit too."

"Oh my gosh, I wanna be mad at you so bad because of this but I'm really amused."

"Are we about to have angry sex?"

You didn't even answer him. You immediately pulled him down by the back of his neck and attacked his lips with yours. He kissed you back, moving in sync with you. His tongue caressed your lips, tasting you as you backed him up against the edge of the bed. The backs of his knees hit the mattress and he immediately sat down, pulling you with him. Pulling your dress up past your hips so you could spread your legs, you straddled his lap. His hands immediately went to your ass, cupping and squeezing it.

You continued to kiss him, making out like you were teenagers. Your kisses were fast and sloppy, your panties dampening as you ground your hips against his center. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging at the soft strands gently. You felt your clit throbbing in anticipation and you knew you couldn't wait too long before he filled you up.

Your hands frantically slid down his body, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You had been so upset with him, you had overlooked how good he looked tonight. He wore a white button-up, only having the bottom two buttons tied together to show off his tanned, tattooed chest. He paired it with a pair of black slack pants and white loafers that he had slipped off the moment you got back to your room. He had his famous cross and phallic banana necklaces on and had rings lined on almost every one of his fingers.

You slid his top off of his shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His glistening skin and dark tattoos were now on full display for you. You ran your fingernails across his body, feeling every inch of his torso that you could reach. You continued to grind your center against his, circling your hips so his bulge rubbed perfectly against your clothed clit.

"I want you so bad," he breathed out and you hummed against his lips in agreement.

His fingertips grabbed onto the hem of your silky dress and pulled it up over your head, tossing it with his shirt. Your lips only parted to pull the dress off, immediately attaching again once you were exposed to him. His hands reached behind your back and unclasped your strapless bra with ease, letting it fall onto your lap. After grabbing it and tossing it, his hands cupped both breasts and kneaded them harshly.

His kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at all your sweet spots. You let your head fall to the side to give him more access and hummed in satisfaction. His lips trailed even further down until they latched onto your right breast. He sucked at your nipple, hand still kneading your left one. Flicking his tongue back and forth against your bud, your back arched into him. Nibbling on it, you whimpered and he pulled away, giving your other breast the same amount of attention.

Returning back to your lips, he tugged on the band of your panties, acknowledging that he wanted them off. You stood up in between his legs and pulled your panties down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. While you did that, he unbuttoned the button on his pants, lifted his hips, pushed them down his thighs, and pulled them off his legs.

Both of you were now completely naked and exposed to each other. You straddled his lap again and he reached down between your bodies, sliding his fingers between your folds to feel your wetness. He groaned softly as his middle finger and ring finger slipped past your opening with ease. You mimicked his moan when his fingers began to move in and out of you, the coldness of his peace ring and his pearl ring sending chills up your spine.

"Jesus, Y/N, I'm so fuckin' horny right now," he groaned desperately.

"I need you inside me," you whimpered into his ear, equally as desperate, "right now, Harry, please."

"C'mere," he hummed.

Pulling his fingers out of you, he wrapped his arms around you and stood up. Turning around, he laid you down on the sheets with your hips at the edge of the bed while standing in between your spread legs. He grasped onto both of your ankles and hooked them around his shoulders. Wrapping his right palm around his member, he wasted no time and immediately positioned his swollen tip at your entrance, sliding in while he hovered over you. You both let out moans at the euphoric feeling of him filling you up. He stilled inside of you, allowing you a minute to adjust to his size. His forehead rested against yours and he grunted softly when he felt you clench around him.

Leaning back up, he grabbed onto each of your thighs to ground you. Not holding anything back, he began thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew every single one of your sweet spots and every single movement that made you putty in his hands.

His thighs slapped against yours and your breasts bobbed with each hard thrust of his hips. Your orgasm was quickly starting to grow closer and you found yourself clenching around him each time his tip brushed up against your good spot. Your face contorted with pleasure and you tightly gripped the sheets below you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered softly, "Harry, yes!"

"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted in between stagged breaths, "Just wanted me to fuck you like this?"

His fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs, most likely leaving marks for you to complain about the next morning. The bed squeaked under you and you knew the backs of your thighs were quickly turning bright red with the repetitive slapping. It was purely a pornographic scene and you were in complete and utter bliss.

"Answer me."

"Yes, yes," you chanted, "I needed this so bad. Needed you, Harry."

Lifting your head slightly, you looked down and watched as he disappeared in and out of you. He was slick with you, sparkling against the light in the room. You could physically hear how wet you are for him. His movements intensify that sound with each thrust. You let your head fall back down to the bed and look up at him. He's looking down between your bodies, watching what you were just watching. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his jaw hung slack as he breathed irregularly.

You watched as his muscles clenched with each thrust, a sheen layer of sweat beginning to form on his skin, glittering his tattoos. You let your eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure grew. You felt his left hand leave your thigh and immediately grasp onto your breast, squeezing it and allowing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch at your nipples.

Without warning, he wrapped his hands around your sides and flipped you over so you were on your belly. He tapped your hip gently, acknowledging you to sit up. Resting your elbows on the sheets to support your body, you stuck your ass up in the air for him, leaning back and pressing into him. He positioned at your entrance again and started back up where he had left off.

The sound of his skin slapping and your wetness continued to echo loudly throughout the room and if he wasn't making you feel so damn good right now, you would be worried about people outside the room hearing.

"Talk to me. This is exactly what you fuckin' wanted so tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"No," you whimpered, trying to get a rise out of him, "you don't love me anymore."

"Say that one more time and I'll spank you 'till you cry," he grunted.

You grinned at his words. You knew he wouldn't actually spank you until you cried, but you wanted to challenge him, "I'm not wrong."

His hand swatted at the fullest part of your ass and you squealed at the slight sting, his rings he never took off intensifying that sting. He never spanked you super hard, just enough to get you to straighten up when you were being sassy with him.

"Wanna try me again?"

"You never give me attention anymore."

Another spank landed across your ass and you moaned, his hand massaging the area to soothe the sting, "You're such a brat. You're asking for it now, aren't you?"

After one more smack against your skin, he grunted and his thrusts came to an abrupt stop. You were about to protest but then felt his big hands collecting your hair. He switched all of it to one hand, holding it up into a ponytail. He tugged on it, pulling your head back so that he could easily lean down to nip at your ear lobe and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips. Using his free hand, he grabbed onto your hip again and began thrusting.

"Want me all to yourself all the fuckin' time, huh?" he growled into your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

"You're mine," you moaned, "Don't like sharing you."

"Fuckin' selfish is what you are," he grunted in your ear, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"

You moaned in response, breath hitching in your throat before he continued, "Got people wanting my attention left and right and you only want me for yourself. I can see why though, with how good I make you feel. Not once have I ever failed to have you fuckin' trembling under me, babe."

"You're such a fucking narcissist," you grunted, words coming out strangled.

He chuckled deeply, biting on the shell of your ear, "It's the sole reason why you married me, innit? 'cause of how easy I can get you to scream my name?"

"Fuck off," you groaned and he chuckled again, loving how he got to you.

"Got the sexiest girl in the world to be my wife. How can I not be narcissistic?"

"Mmm," you whimpered, ignoring him, "Want more."

"More? Am I not giving you enough right now?"

"No, gimme more."

"Greedy, greedy girl. You're my greedy girl though, that right?"

You hummed in agreement as he let go of your hair, your head immediately hanging low. With both hands now on your hips, fingertips gripping your skin tightly, he changed his rhythm. Fast and hard. Exactly what you wanted right now.

"I'll give you whatever you want. Got me wrapped around your little finger."

"Obviously not, or else we wouldn't be in this situation right now," you grunted in sync with the smack of his hips against yours.

"Still mad at me, huh?"

"Just shut up and make me cum," you groaned.

You heard him chuckle behind you as he kept his rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm by the second. His thighs smacked against yours and the sound echoed throughout your hotel room. Your breath was hitched in your throat, your face contorted with pleasure and your jaw slack as moans occasionally escaped when your hitched breath allowed.

He got so deep inside you, hitting your special spot just underneath where your clit was located with each thrust of his powerful hips. His fingers were gripping your hips tightly, nails carving crescent moon shapes within your skin. Your clenched around him and you could feel every inch of him moving against your walls.

"Oh, Harry," you whimpered into the sheets and Harry's heart swelled as he noticed how much you needed this. How much you needed him.

With the length of his thrusts shortening and pace only slowing down slightly, he leaned down and pressed his back against yours, cupping your waist to pull him into you.

"Haven't been giving you the attention you deserve, have I, baby?" he grunted into your ear, words in sync with his thrusts.

"Mm mm," you whimpered, his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver.

"Been neglecting my favorite person in the world. My beautiful wife, fuck, I love you so much."

You couldn't even reply. Your voice wouldn't let you, the only thing you could get out was moans of pure pleasure by not only him inside of you, but also him finally giving you exactly what he wanted. His hands slid up your torso and gripped your breasts, squeezing them as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. You could tell he was close by the way his member twitched inside of you, his strangled moans, and the feeling of his face contorting against your back.

"Need you to cum, baby." he breathed out, "I can't cum if you don't cum first."

"I need-" you began and it was like he read your mind, fingers heading straight for your throbbing clit and rubbing it side to side vigorously, causing you to breathe out, "Yeah."

It didn't take much longer before your body became numb with pleasure. You were trembling, screaming into the sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white with how hard you were gripping the covers. Harry continued his movements to carry you through your orgasm, causing it to pulse through you in waves, euphoria completely clouding your mind.

You came down from your high with heavy breaths, the continued stimulation from his thrusts sending a new wave of pleasure over you. When it became too much, you whimpered and he pulled out, groaning painfully, "Where do you want me?"

"My back," you breathed out.

You laid down on your stomach and moved all your hair to your front, while he continued to pump himself to keep his orgasm from falling. Once you were in position, he pressed one knee to the bed to angle himself above you. It was only seconds before you felt the warm feeling of him painting your back with his creamy release, your jaw falling slack. Moans of pleasure fell from his lips as he worked himself through his orgasm, pleasure consuming his body just as it did you only seconds earlier.

Once he had milked the last of his orgasm, he immediately got up to grab a few tissues to clean you off.

"You okay, babe?" he asked while wiping the tissue across your skin.

"Mhm," you hummed in response, ready to just fall asleep in his arms.

Throwing away the soiled tissue, he stated, "All done."

You turned over onto your side and he laid down next to you, pulling you into him, breathing out, "Didn't lie when I said I always get you trembling under me, huh?"

You rolled your eyes teasingly at him, "You're so annoying."

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know. We still need to talk though. The problem didn't just go away 'cause you're good in bed."

He chuckled deeply, "Can we talk tomorrow? Just wanna hold you right now."

"Yeah, lemme go to the bathroom then we can go to bed," you replied as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom.

"Love you, sexy," he teased, landing a soft smack across the curve of your ass as you got up.

You giggled, "I love you too."

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scarrletmoon · 7 months

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okay i know the Discourse™️ has been going on for way too long at this point, but

i think some people outside of the OFMD fandom don’t actually get why we’re particularly annoying about this show

OFMD is not the first queer show to ever exist. if anything, it's a late entry in decades of queer media. over a year and a half since the first few episodes aired, everyone knows that OFMD is queer. that doesn't make it particularly special

but back in March? this is the trailer that dropped in February of 2022, 2 weeks before the premier. if you're used to seeing queer chemistry in shows that aren't intended to be queer, you might see the hints between Ed and Stede here. but to most people? it's just a silly little pirate comedy. just guys being dudes. the trailer doesn't even hint at the other 2 canonical queer relationships in the show -- the closest it gets suggesting romance is the music and the pink in the poster

so when people watched this show in March 2022, they went into it expecting subtext and nothing else. to them, it was like watching Sherlock or Supernatural or Merlin in the 2010s. if you were in any of those fandoms -- especially Sherlock and Supernatural -- you know what it was like; constant jokes at our expense, being mocked for creating explicit fanwork, made fun of by the creators and within the show itself. if we saw queer subtext, that was our problem. this was a time when you pretended NOT to be in fandom, for fear of ridicule. we kept our fanwork to ourselves, we DID NOT share it with the cast, and we accepted that our favourite ships would probably never be canon. maybe one day, if we were lucky, we'd have a show where the subtext wasn't mockery as much as deliberate foreshadowing -- but that had to be YEARS away

right?

OFMD was never billed as a queer show, not in the beginning. there was no LGBTQ+ tag on (HBO) Max, it wasn't on anyone's list of upcoming queer shows in 2022, it flew under the radar through most of its first season. this was a show about pirates, and sure, some of them were queer. but not the LEADS. if you think they're romantically involved, that's must be fandom brain poisoning

except the 9th episode aired, and they kissed. and the show said "you're not crazy for thinking they have chemistry because they really do. it's been a romance this whole time". and in the 10th episode, Stede realizes that he's in love

(not mandating you watch this clip if you don't care for the show, but there's something that feels particularly earth shattering about no one saying the word gay but knowing that Stede's realizing he is, that it's completely unambiguous and explicit in a way that only straight romances are usually allowed to be)

this is why people freaked out about this show. no one knew. even the creator, David Jenkins, was surprised when WE were surprised that it was gay for real -- he set out to write a love story, using all the tried and true beats of a rom com. he'd never even heard of the term queerbaiting. he looked at historical Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet and thought "oh, there's something here" and just...wrote that, with very little fanfare, like it was inevitable. like it was obvious. of course Jim and Pam end up together. of course Buttercup and Westley end up together. what kind of disappointing ending would it be if You've Got Mail ended with the main characters just going their separate ways?

so of course Ed and Stede are in love

look, i get it. we're annoying and won't shut the fuck up about this show that seems mediocre at best. i watched the whole thing back in march, thought "huh, that was cool" and was sure that i'd forget about it in a few days

an hour after looking at fanart on twitter, i was lost in the fucking sauce

there's just so much to unpack from a mere 10 episodes. it covers racism, toxic masculinity, gender expression, sexuality, trauma and abuse. and i don't think we should overlook the fact that the non-white characters in this show get to be fully human in a way i haven't seen in my favourite shows in recent memory

additionally, most OFMD are 25 or older. we're not people who've been spoiled by queer rep, who don't get how hard it used to be, how you'd have to grovel for scraps, how shipping and fanfiction was a way to find queer rep where we thought there never would be. we've been here. we're annoying about this show because for a lot of us, it's the first time we've been treated like our queerness isn't an anomaly that needs to be relegated to its own section, that needs to be praised for the bare minimum of acknowledging that we exist. it's not pulling punches to avoid scaring away a straight audience. it just is.

OFMD for me is like when i watched Black Panther for the first time and realized that this is what white people felt all the time. have there been other black superhero movies? of course! does Disney fucking suck? BOY does it. but that was the first time i got to sit in a movie theater and watch a mainstream film that looked at Africa and said "look at how beautiful you are, exactly as you are"

and idk. i think that's really cool

#scarrlet rambles #ofmd #cant wait for all 5 notes on this post #and dont be fucking mean i'm not trying to start shit #anon is off btw if you want to try that #we're going to have a productive conversation or none at all we're adults here #for some reason tumblr didn't save my links and stuff THANKS TUMBLR #anyway the typo version is floating around now i guess 🥲

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novantinuum · 3 months

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Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

#su #su future #steven universe #su meta #my post stuff

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schrodingerscougar · 2 months

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Warning: afab!reader. i felt like writing a sad drabble(ish) thing.

Simon keeps a comfortable distance at first. He knows you’re interested in him, he knows he was the one who asked you out on a date, but despite all this, he just can’t get himself to let you close. So he keeps the dates simple, like going to watch a movie or having lunch at a fast food restaurant, maybe–and that’s a rare occasion–watching something with you at home.

You try to make a move on him, you want to go beyond occasional reserved kisses, but he acts like he didn’t pick up on the signs. But he does; he knows perfectly well what you want from him, but he’s not ready to give it to you yet. That would make your relationship serious and he’s not planning to let that happen.

Deep down he knows it’s a problem he’d have to face eventually. So three months into your strange relationship he visits the psychologist the military always sends him to and asks for the specialist’s opinion. Is it because of his job? Is it because of his family? Is he just afraid he would lose you too? He doesn’t get the answer he’s looking for, so he goes home and tries to come up with a solution himself.

The next time he goes on a mission, things go south pretty fast. He gets a bullet in his side and a cracked rib, so he has to stay in the hospital for a few days. On day two he begins to wonder if he should call you. He doesn’t think it’s any of your business, but you’re his girlfriend, maybe he should tell you about this. The next day he gets ready to call you, but he just can’t get himself to push the call button. It’s only on day four that he starts a video call.

You're worried, he can see that. You try not to show it, but even through the small screen of a phone he can see the physical signs. He's good at reading people and you're an open book to him. It kind of warmed his heart to know you cared about him so much, but at the same time it was scaring the hell out of him.

How could he end this relationship before you drowned in it? How could he break up with you carefully, making sure you don't get hurt?

When he returns home, he's ready for the big conversation. He would make it quick, straight to the point, and he would assure you it's not you, it's him. Because he’s the problem. He's the one who can't deal with commitment.

“We need to talk, love,” he begins, immediately regretting adding the pet name. But it comes so naturally when he looks at you that he can't do anything to stop himself.

He watches as you let out a sigh and sit on the couch, patting the empty space next to you. But he refuses because he knows he might change his mind the moment he smells your favorite perfume you picked just for him, and he also knows he would confess his undying love for you if he looked into your eyes from up close.

Over an hour later he’s already home, the sight of tears running down your face filling his mind as he lies on the couch. He wishes he didn't have to do this. He wishes he was strong enough to stick around, to be the man you always wanted him to be.

But he's not a good person. He had to break your heart to protect you from the harm his fucked up life could bring to you. He had to leave before he caused permanent damage.

Little did he know you were pregnant with his child. If he had known…

(part 2)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost #modern warfare #mw2 #mw3 #call of duty

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cosmal · 1 year

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Hi, could i make a request for Eddie Munson, an angst/comfort one where he cries the first time reader kisses him? Because he's never ever been loved like that, and he didn't realize how touch starved he was until the gesture overwhelmed him? 🥺❤️ Love your writing

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

thank you!!!

summary — eddies first date with you doesn't go how he'd planned and he hadn't even expected a kiss. still, you kiss him because you want to.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, touch starved!eddie, eddie's never been on a first date before

word count — 2.3k

In Eddie’s opinion, his first date with you goes to shit.

If he could sit here and say that he’s surprised, he would. But he’s not. He’s Eddie Munson, things don’t go to plan for him like they should.

He was a nervous wreck to begin with, how he’d even scored a date with you in the first place is beyond him. Though he can’t attribute much credit to himself anyways, you had asked him out.

Sitting in Steve Harrington’s backyard after a swim, you start to tell him about this new, fancy restaurant up behind the arcade. It’s just opened and,

“Would you want to go there sometime? I heard their pasta is delicious.”

He had to get you to repeat the question, his ears were full of water and he was sure he’d heard you wrong.

He psychs himself out for the better half of his afternoon, so not only is he late to pick you up, his old, dingy, stupid van breaks down before it can even make it out your drive. You tell him it’s okay, it’s a nice night, we should walk. Eddie tells you that he shouldn’t have you walking all the way into town in those shoes.

“What’s a few blisters if it means I get to spend more time with you?”

Your kindness does nothing for his thrumming heart.

Once you’re at the restaurant he forgets to open the door for you. You don’t seem to mind, of course, you don’t, but Eddie has a checklist of gentlemanly dues he feels he must achieve to impress you. It’s stupid, really stupid, but he’d be damned if he messed up such an amazing opportunity.

You sit and chat for a while, waiting for your meals, and the entire time he thinks you want to hold his hand. Your manicured hand keeps inching closer to his over the white tablecloth, knuckles almost brushing, and he’s too nervous about making the final move to tangle his fingers through yours.

Then you say something terribly, awfully kind to him. Something about his hair, how it looks really nice tonight. How you’ve always loved his hair.

Eddie spurts his soda out over his glass and gets it all down his white shirt. Yeah, his white shirt. Something he’d begged Harrington to let him wear.

“Please, man. I don’t have anything nice to wear tonight. I can’t exactly show up in my Judas Priest shirt that’s covered in bleach.”

“You could show up in a brown paper bag and she’d still think you were the hottest thing out.”

“It’s not that easy for me. I need to impress her.”

Eddie had wiped the soda from Steve’s shirt, feeling utterly stupid and you had laughed like it was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

You’d laughed when he’d choked on his spaghetti. Smiled kindly when he offered you to try his food and you’d reminded him for the second time that night that you were allergic to tomatoes. To top it off, you’d pretended it was no big deal that he had accidentally left his wallet in his van and that you had no problems paying for dinner.

“Really, Eddie. It’s fine. Just get me back next time.”

The thought of a next time was enough to stop his racing thoughts for just a moment. Not for long though, because watching you pretend like your feet weren’t aching on the way home had Eddie cursing himself the entire walk.

How could he fuck up so badly and how could you be so calm and kind about it?

Now, standing at your front landing, he’s apologising profusely for how horrible he’s made your night.

“Horrible?” you question, eyebrows raised and skin glowing if it's entirely possible. The setting sun casts you amber.

“I don’t know,” Eddie stammers, “It didn’t go how I wanted it to.”

“It didn’t?” you question again. Your voice is pitched up and its melody has his brain spinning, “How were you expecting it to go?”

“I’d have expected not to forget my wallet. And maybe have a van that works,” Eddie can’t help but laugh at his stupidity. Especially when you’re making the same face you have been all night. A smile that looks like it could ruin him.

“I don’t know,” You reach forward and take the hem of his shirt in your fingers, playing with the thread. “I had a really good time.”

“You- you did?” Eddie stammers. Suddenly you’re really close, if it’s because he’s been too deep inside his own head he hasn’t noticed you inching closer, he’s not sure.

“Yeah,” you nod gleefully, hair bouncing.

“Yeah,” he echoes. More to set it in stone himself.

Eddie watches where your fingers play with his shirt, the closer they inch towards his skin, the louder he thinks his heart becomes in his ears.

There’s a silence that you hate, “Hey, Eds?”

Eddie’s breath hitches. You’ve never called him that before.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. Voice quieter than he’d like to admit. Any louder and he feels as if you’d step back from him.

He looks up and catches your gaze before you speak, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie doesn’t know how to reply. He’s never even been asked such a question before so he can’t even pretend he’s got an answer somewhere in the back of his numb mind.

His heart thrums in his throat, feels as if it might escape, “You want to kiss me?”

You nod like it’s the most obvious thing ever. To you, it is, to Eddie it’s unimaginable.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The moment your lips press into his, he freezes. Not in a bad sense, his mouth still moves. He still shows you how much he wants to kiss you with his tentative and loving lips. But he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They flex at your side until you’re cradling his face in your own.

Your touch is warm, warmer than your lips and it almost burns. Burns so much that his eyes well with tears and he gasps into your opening mouth.

Your face suddenly feels wet and you can feel a sob making its way through Eddie's throat. You pull away, “Eddie? You okay?”

He slams his eyes shut to will away the tears, fisting at his hair when he pushes it behind his ears, “M’sorry,” he sniffles.

You reach up to cradle his face again, wiping hot tears away from his flushed cheeks, “Hey, it’s alright. I had a great night. Promise.”

He shakes his head, “No,” he swallows, “No, it’s not that. I’ve just. I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

“Oh.”

Eddie feels stupid. That is until you say,

“Oh, Eddie. Hey, c’mere.”

Eddie lets himself fall too willingly into your arms. Has no problems this time when you wrap your arms around his back and pull him as close as possible. Close enough that his hair presses so hard into the skin of your neck that he expects it to be embossed.

He grasps at the back of your shirt a little too hard. Pressing his nose into the skin behind your ear, sniffling wetly.

“It’s okay,” you murmur into his head, “I had I really good night and I think,” you pause and let him rub his cheek into your shoulder, “I think I’ve wanted to kiss you for a really long time.”

He pulls back and you think he has the prettiest eyes. Despite them being glassy and the tiniest bloodshot. “Yeah?”

You lean in and peck him right above his top lip, overthe plush of his cupid's bow, "Yeah."

“You think you'll want to try it again sometime?"

You smile brightly, "I think I do. More than you think."

"Way more than I think."

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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sunderingstars · 2 months

Note

So how do you think Zayne, Xavier and Rafayel would react when their s/o has a boy best friend, purely platonic but makes other people have second thoughts about their relationship.

Hehehe have a good day, write this if your okay with this 🪐

boy best friend (l&ds x reader) ♡

what the stars reveal: 1.2k, no gender signifiers used for reader, established relationship, ✨jealousy✨ but with a healthy dose of respect partner juice, surprisingly well-adjusted xav, half-headcanon half-prose, slight allusions to lore if you squint

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ hello !! thank you for giving me an excuse to write jealous rafayel >:3 the love & deepspace brainrot is so real for me right now, hope you enjoy !

— zayne is really good at hiding it, but his tiny mannerisms bleed through enough to make it clear he’s worried. it’s not that he has an issue with you having guy best friends, it’s just that everyone else seems to assume you two are together despite zayne standing right there.

Zayne just stares. Blinks. Stares. Blinks again. You have to nudge him as a reminder that he is, in fact, in public, and that introductions are usually reciprocated by both parties. As soon as you make contact, it’s like a switch flips.

He breezes through his name, occupation, and a firm handshake (not too loose, not too tight), making it look so effortless that you almost forget he’d frozen like a statue as soon as he laid eyes on your best friend. Almost.

He does his best to hide it, but it’s clear something’s wrong. The slight clip to his voice, the furrow of his brow, the hesitance in his eyes when he looks at you — they may be imperceptible to the untrained eye, but all the telltale signs are there. It’s only a matter of time before you get an answer out of him.

“I’m an adult. I don’t worry about those kinds of things,” he says when you voice your suspicion a few days later.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s true,” he continues when you shoot him a disbelieving look, shuffling the papers on his desk in an attempt to seem nonchalant, “I have absolutely no problem with him.”

You don’t say anything else, simply fix him with a deeper look and cross your arms. He doesn’t crack. It takes a whole five minutes of him pretending to go back to work before he sighs and makes a show of signing something.

“I may,” he says, setting the pen down gently, “Be slightly… somewhat…”

“Jealous?” you finish.

“No,” he says. “Annoyed.” Then, quickly, “Not at you. Or him. Just everyone else.”

You don’t quite understand. “Everyone else…?”

Now it’s Zayne’s turn to fix you with a look. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

Notice what? you want to ask, but refrain since you don’t want Zayne thinking you’re more oblivious than you already are. You rack your brain for something, anything that you can remember from that day, until…

“Oh,” you say. You do remember getting quite a few stares even before you and your friend coincidentally ran into Zayne. At first, you thought it was because you were still in uniform, but you realize now that it may have been for a completely different reason.

Zayne doesn’t respond, just taps his fingers against the wood of his desk, a nervous tic.

“Those were people who got the wrong idea,” you continue. Then, when his mouth dips into a frown, you move to stand beside him. “I don’t mind hunting them down and telling them just how wrong they were.”

At this, his frown begins to lift. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I would, though.”

He looks at you clearly for the first time in a few days, a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you say. You maneuver yourself between him and the desk, falling into a half-straddle. “I’d go to their house, knock on the door, and tell them exactly how Dr. Zayne and I make out every Friday eveni—”

You feel his hand brush against your mouth, closing it.

“Alright, alright,” he interrupts with a small smile, “I get it. I’m secure enough in our relationship not to worry.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “Just don’t miss any checkups.”

“I’ll be right on time, as always,” you say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “And if anyone asks, i’ll tell them exactly who my boyfriend is.”

“Thank you.”

— xavier isn’t sure why you think he’d be annoyed, since your best friend seems nice enough. if anything, you’re the one that seems nervous, broaching the topic with him only to realize he hasn’t minded from the start.

Xavier looks a bit confused. His eyes shuffle between your face, his phone, and the twisting hands in your lap, a small, awkward smile beginning to spread on his face.

“Am I supposed to be… worried?” he asks.

“Are you?” you respond.

This prompts a light chuckle from your boyfriend. He shifts on the couch, turning until his arm rests on the back and his body is angled towards you. “Not really. What about you?”

You shrug. “Maybe a little.”

This seems to surprise Xavier, and you can’t blame him. You’re a bit surprised, too, given that most people’s roles would be flipped in this context.

Still, you can’t help it. Even though you’ve known your best friend for years — much longer than you’ve known Xavier — you don’t want your boyfriend to feel like he’s being overshadowed in his relationship with you. However, it currently seems like those worries are unfounded.

“Well, the way I see it…” Xavier leans in, brushing his lips against your temple, “… it’s wonderful you have so many people to share your life with.”

“You really think so?” you ask, just to make sure.

“Of course. Although…” He leans back, then, mid-afternoon light filtering through the window and washing his features soft gold. His eyes sharpen like sun rays piercing through a cloud. “… if he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

— rafayel is very loud and clear about his jealousy, and you can count on him to become clingy after you hang out with your best friend. ultimately, you know he doesn’t mind nearly as much as he says he does, so you’re happy to indulge his want for attention if it means you can comfort him when he’s insecure.

Rafayel, as he is wont to do, makes his feelings known immediately and with such startling clarity that at first you think he’s joking.

“You’re serious?” you finally ask, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards into a smile while his stay fixed, pouting.

“Of course I am,” he says. He glares at the empty air beside you head as if it wronged him in a past life. “I mean, it’s fine and all, I guess, but we haven’t seen each other in four days. You haven’t even taken me plushie hunting. And yet…”

“And yet…?”

He crosses his arms and mumbles.

“Use your words, Raf.”

He sighs. “You were with him all day. People were staring.”

“And so you’re jealous,” you deadpan, “because my best friend helped me with a case.”

“Yes!” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I could’ve helped too! If you keep going around without me like that, you’ll… you’ll…” Something changes in his eyes, and he clicks his tongue, looking away. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

You know your boyfriend well enough by this point to grasp what he’s hinting at. Putting your own frustration aside, you lean in, the soft fabric of Rafayel’s shirt brushing against your fingertips. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I’m not going to forget you,” you say. Then, you find his arm, uncrossing it so you can take his pinky in yours. “Promise.”

Slowly, slightly, the tension in his shoulders begins to release.

“Can we go plushie hunting?” he mumbles. Then, “Just the two of us?”

You smile. “Of course.”

🩵 bonus hc 🩵: i mentioned it in zayne’s part, but i like to think he drums his fingers against any available surface when he’s nervous or worried. between that, pushing up his glasses, and fiddling with his pen, you can read his mood based off of how much he messes with the objects in his vicinity.

(also also rafayel is so petty when he’s jealous, i know this one is basically canon but i just love it sm ♡)

#⌞ ✎ sunder.writes ⌝#love & deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds #love & deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #l&ds zayne #l&ds rafayel #l&ds xavier

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beauty-and-passion · 1 year

Text

Eurovision 2023: the show of unfairness and the triumph of people’s hearts

My god, this year left me exhausted.

It’s 1:30 am, the Eurovision Grand Final just ended and I am starting to write this post now, because I need some time to calm myself before going to bed. And maybe putting down some thoughts about this year will help me find some peace - at least for a couple hours.

This year has not been what was supposed to be, starting from the show and ending with the winner.

But let’s start from the beginning.

______________________________

Ukraine: robbed of their own show

We all know Ukraine couldn’t host Eurovision in their country because of the war, so they asked the UK to do that.

And the UK tried to be a good host. They reminded us of the reason why Ukraine couldn’t do it, they tried to call Ukrainian artists and make the show about them... only to systematically forget it two minutes later and start acting as if they won and this was their show.

I hope now you understand why last year I said to not give them power over anything. The UK has a tiny little problem called “massive ego” and if you give them a little crumb, they will immediately scarf the whole cake down.

This year should’ve been 70% Ukraine themed and 30% UK themed. What we had instead was the other way around: the UK gave us a tiny little interval show in the semifinals about Ukraine, then a massive show all about the UK.

The Gran Final has been the icing on this disgusting cake. It started with a bang, featuring all of our favourite Ukrainian artists in the span of five minutes: Tina Karol (I had no idea she was Ukrainian, what a nice surprise!), goddess Verka, my beloved Go_A with The Only Queen That Matters, aka Kateryna Pavlenko. And, of course, our favourite winners: the Kalush Orchestra. Man Carpet is still an icon and I still wonder what the singer sees behind that pink hat, but I don’t care. It’s perfect, it’s great, I want this but 200x more. I want them to steal the show, I want them in all interval acts. But no worries, I’m sure they will definitely appear more during the final. I mean, there’s no way the UK called them just to appear for 20 seconds, right? Right?

Oh sorry, my bad. I forgot this isn’t Ukraine’s show, this is UK’s show. We should definitely have Sam Ryder in the interval act and we should definitely make it all about English songs. I mean, it’s not like there are four of the most beloved Ukrainian artists in Liverpool. Let’s make it all a huge masturbation session of the UK instead.

I apologize if my metaphor offended someone, but this is what I felt while watching the UK celebrating itself. Like... can’t you do this in a private room? Do I really have to watch it? This is just one step below Portugal’s show, which showed a massive ego as well and tortured me for three nights straight, by repeating how cool they were and how nice they were and how I would’ve done a great choice visiting them.

But even if that was torture, at least Portugal was the winner of the previous year, not a host masturbating over the fact they are allowed to host a show they didn’t win.

The only choice I fully approve of in this show is the postcards idea: that was very elegant and respectful and I want to thank the person who thought about it. The cards show Ukraine’s beautiful places, UK’s beautiful places and every country’s beautiful places. It’s all beautiful and it’s a great way to both honor Ukraine and emphasize UK’s hosting role, since it looks almost like the UK acts as a “connection” between Ukraine and every other country.

Unfortunately for us, this is the last proof of elegance we will see for the rest of the show.

______________________________

Danemark and Poland: robbed even before starting

Do you remember Danemark’s and Poland’s entries? I know, me neither. Bland, forgetful, two huge balls of nothing.

Well, I have a good news and a bad one. The good one is that Danish and Polish people are not insane and their musical tastes are actually way better than this. The bad news is that the two entries we got (Bejba and Tiktokkid) were not supposed to win their country’s competition, because the public’s favourites were different. But, like, VERY different.

Same thing happened last year for Spain, but at least Chanel was able to put on a great show - even if her song was boring. Danemark and Poland didn’t have that either: one gave us a meme, the other gave us nothing. Disappointing.

So let’s clean Danemark’s and Poland’s names, by listening to the artists they were actually supposed to bring. Let’s start with Danemark and please, tell me if the tiktok kid is better than this (if you dare):

youtube

And before you think: “oh my gosh, this could’ve been a great entry for Danemark!”, please listen to what Poland was supposed to bring:

youtube

I love this song. I love this cute nice boy. I love the classical vibes. And when I played this song for my father, my 70-year-old father told me, with no hesitation: “Oh, this is way better than the other one!”.

So if a 70-year-old can recognize how good this song is, then there’s no generational gap and it’s not true that people are accustomed to the same boring stuff. If a song is good, is good. If a song is bland, is bland.

By now you probably already heard from Polish people about how the voting system of their competition was rigged and how Blanka won thanks to the power of nepotism. So our duty as Europeans (and as people with some fucking taste) is to stream Gladiator, listen to all of his songs and shower this boy with love because he needs to know the world loves him.

And for you all, Polish people: thank you for making us know about your true winner. He really looks like one and we love him too.

______________________________

Germany: robbed while trying

I really cannot understand why people keep hating Germany this much. Is it still because of WW2? What did they do, to deserve the bottom of the chart? I know it’s funny, I know it’s for the memes ah ah ah, but also... come on. Come. On. Are you really telling me that Poland was better than Germany? Are you really telling me that the UK was better than Germany?

I can assure you that if Sweden brought this exact same song, the jury would’ve given this song 300 points. But hey, ThE jUrY iS iMpArTiAl, right?

German people: I don’t know why the world hates you. I think you would’ve gotten more votes, if only the system wasn’t so stupidly rigged and forced everyone to choose one winner only, hoping to defeat the jury’s sheer power. Personally, I enjoyed your song and I enjoyed Lord of the Lost and I will definitely listen to more of their songs to add to my playlist.

However, I also understand your frustration. So you know what? Just go nuts. Choose whoever the fuck you want to represent your country, attend Eurovision whenever you want and do whatever you want, give us insane shit and amazing stuff. You will be treated the same either way, so why give a fuck? Have fun showing your insane side, I will support you 100%.

______________________________

Italy and Israel: what did they ever do to deserve these places?

As an Italian, I am honored people gave so many votes to Italy. Seriously, thank you all, nice to know people appreciate our singers.

But also: why so many votes? Why? I know Mengoni is a good singer, he has a great voice and if this was a real singing competition he would’ve probably deserved to win.

But since Eurovision is not a singing competition, why all these points? Were people really so in love with this ballad? Why? What does he have I cannot understand?

Even more important: why Israel, with their stupid unicorn song, got all these votes? Why? Is it because she’s good-looking? Seriously? Are we still stuck thinking with our genitals, instead of using our brains? I thought Europe moved past the need of thinking with genitals only and started developing some good fucking taste.

Or did her amazing “dance moves” get the public? Ok, she’s very flexible... but do I really really have to remind you of Chanel? A small dance segment is really worth so many points, when last year we had someone who was able to sing AND dance as she did for the entire song? I didn’t even like Chanel, but I am mature enough to recognize that THAT was a show, while the unicorn lady did nothing more than a small dance. Definitely not worth 185 public votes.

At least I know that my country didn’t go insane and the true points (aka the public’s points) didn’t go to the unicorn but to Moldova. Thank god, we are still able to recognize what’s good.

______________________________

Finland: the real winner

When Eurovision started, I was sure Czechia would’ve been the winner. However, their performance wasn’t enough to grant them victory.

Finland, however, had everything a winner needs. And now I will explain to you why, because I love this funky green man and you should love him too.

1) “A little man from Vantaa”

Käärijä is a rare gem, not just for Eurovision, but in general. He’s a simple, genuine, silly guy, who comes from a city few people knew before. He doesn’t speak English too well, but he tries and fails in comically sweet ways. He’s a huge fan of Rammstein, so he’s a man of culture. He became besties with Bojan from the Slovenian band Joker Out and their bromance has been the best part of this Eurovision: these two share one single braincell and I love them for this.

But, most of all, he’s humble. He never considered himself above all others, even after his victory. He knew right from the start that it would’ve been a battle between him and Loreen and yet, he never grew arrogant about it. He always talked about their rivalry in funny ways, through memes and by treating her nicely. But he also never underestimated her: he always put his whole self into every performance, knowing full well he had to give everything, to reach the public’s hearts.

And he did. He reached the public’s hearts and like many others all over the world, I also love this little man. He’s genuine, he’s honest, he’s a fashion icon (Finland changes their flag to green when), his dancers are funky and nice like him. You look at him once and all you can think is: “I want to protect him at all costs”. It’s just impossible to hate this man.

2) His song is a banger

Not only his song is a fusion of three genres (industrial metal, hyperpop and hip-hop/rap), so he’s already serving you three songs in one, but the language he used is Finnish.

I’ve heard Finnish people saying that they never used their language because it’s “too weird”. People, that’s exactly because it’s weird that you should use it! You have this gem and you hide it to us?!

If you don’t know why Finnish is so great, please consider that while all other European languages are part of the Indo-European family, Finnish, Estonian and Hungarian are not. They are part of a completely different family (the Uralic languages).

That means they have nothing similar to any other European language. They are something completely different and new, a whole new world to explore. And they’re here, in our continent!

In addition to that, Finnish is an agglutinative language, which means words are formed by stringing together morphemes. How fucking cool is that? I love this kind of language!

As someone who studied English, French, German and Russian, Finnish is something that gets my attention. I can recognize similarities between Germanic, Slavic and Italic languages and I love them, but Finnish is an unexplored world. It’s made of sounds that well, sound familiar even if they’re not. It’s a constant surprise, you know?

Also, I love that it’s a language full of vowels because it makes me think of my own mother tongue (Italian). It’s a bit like feeling at home, even if our languages have nothing in common <3

3) The best performance of Eurovision 2023

I love the Croatian daddies like the next person (and I’m glad the public gave them the top 10 because they deserve it), but Käärijä’s performance had everything: it told us a story (i.e. how Käärijä slowly emerges from behind his barriers to join the party), he gave us the best stupid dance moves and there’s even a family-friendly human centipede. What else do you need, to start dancing?

Also, another shoutout to his dancers, because I live for those shocking pink dresses and for their immensely creepy expressions. And I live for the public always welcoming them with screams: they deserve it.

I know you already enjoyed it 200 times, but you know what? Let’s fucking destroy the views of this video and let’s watch it again. And also, let’s notice how much the public enjoys it. How much they screamed, how they sang with him, how they enjoyed this party.

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Even without knowing Käärijä, you can feel he put his whole self into this. And the public felt it too.

And the final result was astonishing: he got 376 points from the public. It’s the second-highest public score, after Kalush Orchestra, who got 439 points.

If you notice, Käärijä’s percentage is even higher than Kalush Orchestra’s! And such a high result means one thing and one thing only: the public has chosen its winner. He is the winner. People are sovereign and people’s will has been very clear about it. So when I say he’s the winner, it’s not because I want to indulge him: it’s because it’s the fucking truth.

Also, please notice the kind of songs the public chose as their top 3 favorites: songs with nothing mainstream and native languages. All while the jury thinks what we want is the same boring shit we can hear on the radio 24/7.

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A painful evening

Let me start by making something clear: I don’t hate Loreen and I don’t hate Sweden. It’s not their fault if they win. They are just exploiting the situation, because they learned what the good formula is and keep using it over and over.

Loreen knows that if she sends another song that is just like all the others she made, she will get a high position. And now, thanks to yesterday’s victory, she knows she doesn’t even have to try. Why should she do something different, when doing the same thing twice made her win twice? Why try something different, why step out of her comfort zone? If she does the same thing, she can win. So she will keep doing the same thing.

Same goes for the entire country of Sweden. They learned that if they bring the most boring, generic pop song you can listen to on every radio on planet Earth, you will win. So, they will keep sending it. After all, a bland pop song is what the world is more accustomed to, so why change? Why do something different, when they can be teacher’s pet and always get a high score? This isn’t being stupid, this is being clever.

But is it elegant and fair too? Oh honey, absolutely not. This is the exact opposite of what elegance and fairness are.

On Saturday evening, when we reached the voting part of the show, the crowd literally CHEERED AND SANG Käärijä’s name or “Cha Cha Cha”. Multiple times.

Once the public clearly states who they want to win, then the competition is over. When the consensus is unanimous, there’s no competition anymore. The winner is already here. Everything else is just white noise and bureaucracy.

That’s what I felt, while I was forced to keep listening to a bunch of people loudly kissing Sweden’s ass. The public had already decided, we already have a winner. Why are we still wasting time?

And if forcing us to keep listening to this pitiful charade was not enough, the hosts decided to lose that shred of elegance that was still left on this joke of a show and not only shushed the public all time but even said “just ignore everyone”, as if their voices didn’t really matter. It’s not like this is a music competition and the public is the final receiver of said music, after all.

I don’t know you, but I don’t like to see the sovereign public being silenced and told they do not matter, all while a bunch of people takes the decisions for them. Maybe the Brits are accustomed to being silenced because an old rich man has to decide for them, but other countries don’t work like that. Like, you know, the one they’re hosting the competition for.

There was nothing democratic about Saturday evening. There was nothing fair in silencing the public and pretending they haven’t chosen their winner one hour ago, because teacher’s pet had to win again.

Do you really think Sweden deserved this victory more than Finland? Do you really think that a country that won six times needed to add this victory to their list, so they can say “ah ah we won as many times as Ireland”? Or just because they can do their stupid ABBA anniversary next year? Is this the reason why we choose our winner, now? The past glories of a country? Well, then in 2048 is the anniversary of Dana International’s winning song, let’s all go to Israel! And in 2056 we’ll go to Finland, because it’s the anniversary of Lordi’s winning. And in 2071 will be 50 years from the Maneskin’s victory, so let’s come back to Italy.

What, does that sound ridiculous? Tell that to the jury, then.

I feel immensely sorry for the Finnish people, because I read online how much this victory could’ve meant for them. This could’ve been so important, such a good chance to shine for a country that considers their language “too weird” and who hasn’t won in 17 years. And since they are stuck between that ticking bomb that is Russia and the always perfect Sweden, they really needed something that gave them more positive attention.

And it broke my heart even more to see Käärijä suffering. He even apologized to his nation. He did something amazing and he still apologized. He literally won and apologized for not winning. That’s unfairness to its finest.

And if all of this is not enough, the results of the public’s vote came out and oh, look, not a single country gave 12 points to Sweden, while almost every country gave 12 points to Finland. Wow, who would’ve fucking guessed that teacher’s pet won because of the teacher.

Again: does that seem fair and democratic to you?

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Oligarchy masqueraded as democracy

Let’s do a little bit of math, shall we?

Each national jury consists of five people + one backup juror. They supposedly vote for the best singer and performance- AHAHAH great joke, very funny.

But let’s not focus on this, now: let’s focus on numbers.

37 countries participated this year. So 37 x 6 = 222. The jury is made up of 222 people in total.

The entire population of Europe is around 451 million people, but let’s keep it low because Eurovision isn’t watched by all Europeans. Let’s take just the number of views on the Youtube streaming of the Grand Finale: 9.5 million people. Let’s round up to 9 million, okay?

Okay, so now we have 222 people on one side and 9 million people on the other. Let’s pretend that less than half of them voted at least one time.

Okay, now look me straight in the eyes and explain why the votes of 222 people should have the same weight as the votes of 4 million people. Please, explain to me how democratic this decision is, can’t wait to hear it.

But you know what? Even if it was 1 million voters only, that wouldn’t have been fair either. In no universe is fair to put one million voters on the same level as 222 voters.

There’s only one possible scenario in which this is fair: if Eurovision was a talent show specifically centered around performances and voices, with a jury made of vocal teachers and choreographers, and all I have to do is passively watch it on my couch.

But from the moment you gave the public the power to choose who the winner could be, then why do the votes of all the people from Europe (and Australia) have the same weight as what 222 people decided?

This isn’t a democracy. This is an oligarchy masquerading as a democracy: a bunch of people decides what you should like, basing their decision on their own interests. And you have no way to oppose them, unless you focus all your votes on one single artist, hoping it would defeat the one the jury chooses.

But this deprives Eurovision of the competition aspect. It’s not a competition if I have to endure a tug-of-war against the jury. It’s not a competition if I am forced to give all of my votes to one artist only, instead of spreading them out to all my favorites. And even in that case, basically all of Europe should vote for that specific artist to try and overcome the sheer power the jury has. Again: does this sound democratic to you?

Now you may say: but the jury is made of experts. Oh, you mean the same experts that proved multiple times they base their votes on politics, who their neighbor is and who can corrupt them better? Or do you mean the same experts that in the past made their choice even without listening to the songs?

The truth is that we have 222 people who can easily be influenced by anything and their power is as strong as the power of 4 million people at least. Four million people, who got invested and followed the entire show from start to finish, if I may add. Please, tell me about the fairness of this system again.

And before you say “but Eurovision is a music competition and we need experts”... sorry, but no. According to Wikipedia, the jury was present before televoting was born, but once televoting was extended to all competing countries (1997 ca.), the jury was no more. It came back only in 2009, with this unfair compromise of 50/50 between jury ad public votes.

So there was a period of time in which there wasn’t a jury and in that period we had the first win for Estonia, Turkey, Latvia, Greece, Finland, Serbia and Russia. How weird that, once the jury isn’t there, other nations have a chance to win too.

The thing is: Eurovision isn’t a simple music competition. It’s more like a window. A window where anyone can have their chance to shine. No matter if you’re from a well-known country and everyone knows who you are or if you’re from a tiny piece of land in the middle of nowhere and all you can do is speak your native language: if you have the right combination of song+performance+voice, you can win.

And it’s beautiful we have this window, because it allows us to see something we’ve never seen before: rock bands, silly songs, folk songs and straight-up weird songs. In Eurovision, you don’t have to listen to just the same generic bland song, but you are allowed to listen to different artists and different cultures - and if you like them, you are free to choose your winner, no matter how not mainstream it is.

And we Europeans need this. We need to celebrate the diversity of Europe and embrace them. We need to see people from different countries hanging out, having fun and becoming best friends. For a continent that has always had (and still has) a problem with wars, we need something that allows us to look at each other and not see a piece of land to conquer, but a place full of life and culture to learn about.

And since we pride ourselves to be the continent where democracy was born, let’s put this democracy in the show we’re so proud of. Do we really need the jury vote? Do we really need the vote of this bunch of people? Okay, let’s have them. But it’s not acceptable to give them the same weight as the public’s vote. 50/50 isn’t acceptable anymore. 20/80 is fairer. I’m feeling nice, we can even do a 30/70. It’s just not acceptable that 300 people should have power over millions over something those same millions will enjoy. As always, the public is sovereign.

And if the public’s taste is shit, at least we will be free to blame ourselves for something we brought unto ourselves - and not feel sick and angry over something others forced upon us.

Or everything can stay the same and the 50/50 system will keep going. But at least, be honest enough to not waste everyone’s time, by pretending the public can do something more than watch what a bunch of people decide for them. Do not pretend to be righteous and democratic, when you’re not.

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The triumph of people

This finale drained me. If it were just a little fairer, I would’ve been thrilled to see Luxembourg coming back after years. But right now I don’t feel like watching next year’s show. I know it will probably be amazing, because Sweden is very good at hosting. But I don’t want to see them masturbating over how good they are and how much they deserved to win - even if they didn’t win.

And, honestly, I don’t care about ABBA either. I don’t give a damn about them, nor about their anniversary. I’m definitely not looking forward to that either.

I will listen to the songs as always, then I might give it a try and watch the semifinals. It depends on how bitter my grudge will be, after one full year. If it will still be very bitter, I will probably spend my time better, by listening to the songs more times, watching the performances and making my own personal final chart. I won’t have ABBA or funny interval acts, but I can try my best to make it enjoyable to read. And it won’t be a fucking charade, at least.

Sorry, but I will keep being bitter for some time. And if you feel bitter too, you have every right to be, no matter what people say. Your voice has been silenced and ignored and numbers don’t lie. It’s very understandable you feel bad.

But you know what you can do? Use your anger in a positive way. And no, that doesn’t mean sending death threats to Loreen. You can accuse Sweden of its lack of elegance and decorum if you want, but always be polite. Don’t be like some of them, who are such sore losers they had the guts to be angry at Finland because it didn’t give Sweden any public points. Bo-hoo, may I add.

What you can do instead is make some noise: ask for the jury to be abolished or for this shitty system to change. And, even more important, support your winners. A lot of amazing artists have been wronged this year, so shower them with love.

And send your love especially towards our winner. Stream Cha Cha Cha, check his other songs, shower him with love and support, make a statue for him in Vantaa, pay me a plane ticket because I need to tackle him in a hug and tell him how much the world loves him. Let’s show the world that he slaps, Finnish slaps and we want more of this.

Do you still need more Cha Cha Cha in your life? Good news: Lord of the Lost made a cover for Cha Cha Cha and OH MY GOSH it’s insanely good. It has a lot of Rammstein vibes, it’s cool and it slaps even harder. Check it out because it’s amazing!

Also because the German singer learned some Finnish, just to spell every word correctly and, according to the Finnish people in the comment section, he did a great job. What a wholesome guy, I love and stan him and his band - and you should do the same, because they are amazing and they don’t deserve last place <3

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And if you need more Käärijä in your life, there are amazing Youtube channels with great collections of his moments, like Eurovision Is Ambition and Uni Dash Corn. I especially suggest you see his bromance with Bojan - and speaking of him, another shoutout to Bojan! He’s such a nice, wholesome guy with great charisma, you cannot hate him. I am not head over heels for his song, but he’s so fucking wholesome, he deserves good things only.

And I also suggest you see how Käärijä has been welcomed in Helsinki. He has been welcomed like a fucking hero, a national treasure. And of course he was: he is the true winner after all, he deserved the welcome only winners get.

It’s a bit like he said in his apology: the better one won. And so he did.

You know, I think the only good thing that came out from this shitshow that was Eurovision 2023, is the people’s heart. People showed their kindness, their love, the best of humankind. We saw acts of friendship, we saw empathy and appreciation. The hug between Käärijä and Bojan, despite its sad meaning, is also a perfect example of what we all should be: kinder, softer, more empathetic, together, no matter how far and different our countries are.

In a way, I am happy that Ukraine’s message of unity was still carried out, even if indirectly and definitely not the way the UK wanted.

And in the end, the trophy isn��t so important: it’s just a piece of glass after all. And no piece of glass is worth the impact one little man from Vantaa left on so many people all over the world.

I know you will never read this post, but I wish you a lifetime of success, Käärijä. You have everything a winner needs and, in fact, you are one. So don’t be too hard on yourself, because the world still needs to show you how much it loves you. Take your time, relax, have fun and come back when you’re ready - just don’t leave us hanging for too much, ‘kay?

And you, Finnish people: please treat our beloved winner with love for us too. We will do our best from afar, so let’s be together on this as we should <3

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