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#gonna add it to my bio so it’s clear I Do Not Want You Guys Around Me
sl-walker · 1 year
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Recently in ‘Lines I Loved Writing’:
True to form, the first thing Cor said after he’d cried himself out was, “Sorry the eggs got cold.”
It was enough to get Scotty laughing, despite the fact that he’d ended up a bit cracked himself there; Corry hadn’t picked his head up to say it, but even though the words were kind of choked, and muffled into a wet shirt, there was a wry humor to them that was almost certainly for Scotty’s benefit.
There was mercy in some rituals, including the occasional use of the absurd to bring them back to an even keel.  Especially when they’d been knocked over.  It wasn’t really avoidance, just-- space, maybe, to get some air back again.
“Well, I just don’t know how I’m gonna live with this tragedy,” he quipped back, rubbing the edge of his jaw against the side of Cor’s head, chest a little ragged but-- everything still functional.
“Probably by going and finding ten other jobs to do in the surrounding area, until more local professionals beg you to stop.  I’m waiting for you to start on the chefs and short-order cooks, once you wipe out the lawn equipment.”  Corry picked his head up, drawing away to wipe at his face with his other sleeve.  “How about you use some of your moonlighting funds to buy me breakfast?” he asked, after heaving out a shaky breath.
“I could heat those eggs back up,” Scotty said, though it wasn’t so much a protest as an offer; it wasn’t any kind of issue to compost ‘em, if Cor really did prefer to go out somewhere.  He leaned over until their shoulders were pressed together, a moment’s more contact. “I mean, unless ye need to get outta here for a bit.”
Corry rubbed over his face, shaking his head for the first part and then nodding for the second.  “The latter.”  He smirked from behind his hand.  “I’ll even let you drive.”
As if he didn’t already let Scotty drive whenever he asked for the keys.  Scotty snorted, but he still got up to grab their jackets out of the hallway, giving Corry’s head a little shove as he did. “Least ye can do, given how much I save ye on maintenance costs.”
Corry snorted right back at him as he moved to clear away their failed attempt at breakfast.  “Like I didn’t spend four years in Engineering School.  I can do my own maintenance, I just don’t want to bother.”
“Spoken like a blue-shirt.”  Scotty layered as much woe into his voice as he possibly could, leaning on the melodrama to add, “Ye coulda gone on to become a famous engineer, but then the siren’s song o’ bio-sciences snared ye--” He wiggled his fingers on his free hand in Corry’s direction, aiming to get a laugh. “--and once the boredom had its claws in, it was all over.”
Even as he took his jacket, Cor did laugh.  “Are you implying that I was ever a good enough mechanical engineer to become famous?  Mister ‘I Made History at Age Sixteen'?”
“Welllllll-- I was maybe bein’ a mite generous--” Scotty shrugged, turning and heading for the front door, smiling to himself once he was sure he wasn’t gonna get caught in the act.
Corry could project his eyeroll just fine with his voice anyway.  “Of course you were.”
From Give and Take, Chapter 2.
Why I loved it:  These two guys have spent a larger part of the past year absolutely struggling.  Scotty’s mother died in January, he almost followed her twenty days later in February, saving his ship and crew but getting nearly fatally wounded in the process, then he spent a whole month unconscious only to wake up in a situation that hits every single last trauma trigger that he’s got and sends him into a panicked flight away from the people who should be finishing putting him back together.  And man, that’s just a fraction of the major psychological tailspin he’s in.
And Corry -- who would have a perfectly normal and gentle life if he hadn’t decided to adopt Scotty for a brother -- sticks his whole neck onto a chopping block just trying to protect Scotty, making incredibly hard and painful and consequential choices not on any logic, but purely out of love.
And then, even after they’re both back on the island, Scotty’s still a disaster of executive dysfunction and vulnerability hangover and continuing trauma, so there’s another month he just suffers because he can’t move and his brother can’t help him and.
But one of the biggest running threads through this is just-- the absolute depth of devotion these two have to each other.  And I mean, you get to see their friendship/brotherhood on display before this.  You don’t doubt by now that they love each other, you don’t doubt they’d fight for each other.
Before now, though, it was never tested like this.  They never got pushed so far.  They never got hurt that deeply.  And doggedly, they pick up the pieces, both individually and as brothers.  But even here, months later, they’re not completely healed yet, even though they’re a hell of a lot closer to it.
So-- I love it because it shows all that work.  Not only before this year, 2248, but during it.  Because before all this, it wasn’t in Scotty’s emotional repertoire to reach out and hold on like he did in the scene before this.  He had to learn this.  And because even though Corry has just pretty much sobbed his soul out -- and god, did he need to -- he still pulls out something of a joke because that’s one of their oldest methods of communication, too, that kind of bantering and absurdist humor.
And even though he got not-a-little misty-eyed, Scotty kicks the ball along, too, with his dry lamenting about not knowing how he’ll live with the tragedy of the eggs going cold, and Cor handing it back poking fun at his moonlighting and--
It’s just-- them.  It’s some of the most them dialogue there can be; it’s funny and serious and kind and I love you.
And I definitely loved writing it.
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linafication · 3 years
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ed blogs please don’t interact with me at all. i would actually like y’all to stay very very far away from me
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krabjoons · 3 years
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omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]
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⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.
⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader
⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp
⮕ word count: 12.8k
⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw
⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)
⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL
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University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.
It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.
Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year. 
Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.
Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.
A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time. 
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So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk. 
The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip. 
You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.
Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him. 
Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).
to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol
Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors. 
from lisa: ayo talk to him 
from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot
Smiling slightly, you respond to her.
to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students
from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes 
to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class
to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess 
from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf
to lisa: it is omg
from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on
to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot
to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints
from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here
to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him 
to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him
from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont
You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes. 
As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.
Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."
When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.
You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.
"So, I heard you wanna try me?"
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You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.
"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"
"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.
"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact. 
"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."
"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.
"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"
You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.
"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.
"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.
"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.
"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true. 
"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.
"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.
"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"
You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp. 
His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies. 
The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.
"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.
"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."
Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.
He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement. 
"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response. 
You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.
He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.
Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.
"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes. 
"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too." 
"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances. 
"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.
"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.
You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.
"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.
He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.
Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum." 
"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal. 
"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds. 
"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.
He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.
Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."
He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.
Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.
"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then." 
You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"
He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room. 
"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?" 
Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.
"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door. 
"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.
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Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private. 
from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him
from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him
from lisa: did you
to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao
to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it
from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit
to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time
from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching
to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot
from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho
from lisa: dude
from lisa: omg
from lisa: he definitely has a boner
Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.
to lisa: whAT
to lisa: wait how big is it
from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely 
from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too
Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.
to lisa: pls thats so hot
from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me
to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf
from lisa: on god do not get me started
to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you
Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.
from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him
from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum
to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg
from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)
You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.
to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?
from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will
to lisa: love u!! xx
from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo
The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.
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Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room. 
You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again. 
"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.
"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.
"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."
"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.
You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.
"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.
"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.
"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.
"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.
You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head. 
"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.
Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."
"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."
"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."
"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.
That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.
He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.
"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.
"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl,  Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."
"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.
Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you. 
"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately. 
"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.
"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."
You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down. 
"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.
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"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."
"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."
"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.
You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.
You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.
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The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.
"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom. 
"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.
Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.
"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation. 
"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."
"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks. 
"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.
"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom. 
"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.
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The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.
You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.
"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?
"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation. 
"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"
You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."
Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!" 
"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.
"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."
"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.
He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. 
"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.
"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."
You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement. 
"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix. 
You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently. 
"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.
"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.
He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.
"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."
"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.
As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.
"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly. 
"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."
"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement. 
"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now." 
There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."
Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"
You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place. 
"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."
He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.
"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.
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"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk. 
Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.
You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.
"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.
"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud. 
"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.
"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you. 
You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.
"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.
You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.
Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.  
Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?" 
In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.
Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment. 
When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation. 
He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.
"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.
"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.
"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.
When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.
"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.
He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."
"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.
"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you. 
You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?" 
You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"
"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.
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For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.
"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.
You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.
"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs. 
"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret." 
"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on. 
"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.
You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.
"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future." 
"One day," he breathes out. "One day."
Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."
He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."
552 notes · View notes
liberty-barnes · 4 years
Text
The Swear Jar
Part 1 of The Jar Series
Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader
Prompt: “I've never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life”
Warnings: swearing obviously, Tom’s a mob boss so there’s that, there’s like, one sexual innuendo but also ??? not really??? idk
Word Count: 4k (i really need to learn to write short things)
Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes
A/N: It’s the pic guys, I can’t help it.
Edit: Wow, you guys actually liked this! So since many of you asked, a part will be coming out soon, maybe more, we’ll see. So if you wanna be added to my “The Swear Jar” Taglist, just ask me or add yourself directly through the link in my bio!
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
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The bell above the door to the diner chimed and you perked up, smiling brightly at the young teenage couple.
“Gracie! Stella! It’s so good to see you again!”
The girls greeted you with the same amount of enthusiasm and proceeded to order their usual meal.
“Your hair’s really pretty Stella! You look like a mermaid now!”
“Thanks, Millie! I took your advice and went with blue instead of purple.”
The young girl smiled and captured the couple’s attention by showcasing her current work in progress.
Millicent Rose (Y/l/n) was your five-year-old daughter. She had brown hair, falling on her shoulders in nice large curls, and big (y/e/c) eyes, a perfect match to yours. She loved drawing (the diner walls were crawling with her masterpieces) and pretty hair, especially if it was soft. 
Her bubbly and fearless personality sometimes frightened you, but you mostly came to terms with the fact that your daughter was a social butterfly and took full advantage of the small diner to interact with as many people as she could.
You watched with a fond smile as Millie explained what she had been drawing to the girls, mentioning every little detail while they praised her good work. The young brunette had a gift to make anyone love her.
Soon enough, their large milkshake to share was finished and Lou, the owner and cook, was all done with the food so the girls sat down at a booth and Millie went back to drawing, little feet dangling off the chair and little brows furrowed in concentration. 
As you were refiling Mr and Mrs Lee’s drinks, the bell chimed once more and four men walked in dressed in stylish suits, much too fancy for this place. They sat down at a booth and started talking while you took a deep calming breath.
Oh, fuck me.
You took your notepad and walked over to them, a much too fake smile on your face.
“Good morning gentlemen, what can I get you?”
The table quieted down and you made eye contact with who you knew to be the leader.
“I’ll have a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.”
One of the twins said.
“I’ll have the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead.”
The other one added.
“Vegi burger and a coke, please.”
At least the blonde one had some manners. 
Your eyes lifted from the notepad to the leader once again.
“And for you?”
You did your best to ignore the slight tremble in your voice.
“Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke, darling.”
“Right away.”
You got out of there as soon as possible, sparing a glance at your daughter to make sure she was still sitting at the counter before entering the kitchen with a panicked expression on your face.
“Lou…”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You’ve got an order… for the Hollands…”
“Well, shit.”
The Holland family was the oldest and most successful mob in London, extremely rich, dangerous, and seemingly untouchable.
Harry and Sam Holland, the twins, were rumoured to have been behind the Burtons’ death, another famous family known for drug trafficking and other crimes.
Harrison Osterfield, the second in command, was a close family friend, accused of drug trafficking, illegal weapons selling, and other such crimes, though the charges all dropped before the first hearing even took place.
And finally, Thomas Holland, the leader. Arrested for multiple murders, arson, extortion, and a long list of other felonies, but never convicted.
Everyone was scared of them, and the fact that they were eating here was not good for business. 
You ignored the tightness in your chest in favour of helping Lou prepare their food, hoping to do it as fast as possible so the group could leave.
Meanwhile, at the booth, Tom was rolling his eyes at his brothers and friend’s stupidity. 
“Okay, we get it, she’s hot, but you don’t have to talk about it all the fucking time.”
Millie turned her head in their direction and scowled. She stretched a bit to the other side of the counter to take the transparent jar and got down from her chair, making her way to their booth, stomping a bit, which made her Sketchers light up.
The diner watched with curious (and slightly frightened, for the Lees) eyes as the little girl climbed onto the booth next to Harrison, one leg after the other, and kneeled next to the blonde, setting her elbow on the table and stretching so the transparent jar was now sitting in front of Tom.
He looked at it: a lid-less mason jar with a pink bow and right in the front, in a child’s handwriting and pink glittery letters were the words 'Swear Jar’.
“You owe a pound.”
He lifted his head to look at the girl.
“I beg your pardon?”
“When someone says a bad word they have to put a pound in the jar. You said a bad word so you owe a pound.”
“I’ve never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life!”
“That’s two more so you have to put three pounds in.”
“Yeah, Tom, put the money in.”
Harrison had his arms around the girl and a smug smile on his face, evidently taking a liking to the young brunette.
“Shut the fuck up Haz, you curse more than I do!”
“Four.”
“Shit.”
That one was not on purpose.
“Five.”
“Okay, okay, jeez, hold on.”
He took out his wallet and took his only five-dollar bill amid all the hundreds.
“Just gonna put the money in this stupid jar.”
“Six.”
“Wha- stupid’s not a swear word!”
“I’m not allowed to say it so yes, it is.”
Tom rummaged around his wallet for a stray pound, reluctantly putting a hundred in after finding nothing.
“Does that mean I’m allowed to say ninety-nine swear words?”
“No paying in advance, everything that’s not the money you owe is a donation.”
“To what foundation?”
“The ‘get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation”
She answered with a smirk and everyone -bar Tom- was pretty much crying at seeing their boss be told what to do by a five-year-old.
“Man, you are so screwed!”
“That’s one pound for you, Mister!”
“Oh shit, right!”
“Two…”
Harry took out his wallet (still laughing his arse off, mind you) and didn’t even try to look for the two pounds, simply putting in a hundred.
Millie’s eyes were focused solely on Tom’s hair. She climbed on top of Harrison, her pink tulle skirt flying behind her and stood on the seat next to the brunette, her hands immediately flying to his hair.
“You have very pretty hair. It’s really soft.”
“Thank you, darling.”
She hummed and kept playing with the soft strands.
“My name’s Tom, and these are my twin brothers Harry and Sam, and my best friend, Haz.”
She looked around for a while, not answering, seemingly lost in thought until she looked back at him and her sparkling (y/e/c) eyes focused on his brown ones.
“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Millie.”
“T-Tommy?”
Sam stuttered out between peels of laughter.
“I don’t like Tom, Tommy’s better. Why are you so shocked Twin Nice?”
Harry looked appalled.
“Why's he Twin Nice?”
“Because you said a bad word and he didn’t, so he’s Twin Nice and you’re Twin Naughty.”
Sam did a little victory dance, bragging about his new nickname to his twin.
The little girl sat down on Tom’s lap and started to play with the black ring on his finger.
“What am I, then?”
She looked up to Harrison from in between Tom’s fingers, still playing with the thick band.
“You’re Thor cause you have pretty eyes and you look really strong.”
To say that the blonde was pleased would be an understatement.
“You, little lady, are my new best friend. We need to come here more often.”
Millie smiled and went back to observing the ring.
“Does this mean you’re married?”
Tom chuckled and shook his head slightly.
“No, it means that I’m a part of the Holland family, like them.”
Everyone around the table showed theirs, a symbol of their high status in the mob.
“So you don’t have a girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Do you live with your mommy?”
“No, I live with these dumbasses in a big house.”
She pushed the swear jar towards him and gave him what could only be described as the 'Disappointed Mom’ look.
“Do you like it?”
“Kind of, sometimes they get on my nerves and I wish they’d rot in Hell, but yeah, it’s not too bad.”
She slapped his hand in reprimand and he internally cursed himself.
“Don’t you miss your mommy?”
“A little, but I see my parents every Sunday for family dinner.”
He answered after placing yet another bill in the jar.
“Parents?”
“Yeah, my mum and dad.”
She hummed.
“I wish I had a dad.”
The boys all stiffened. 
Well, that escalated quickly.
Tom cleared his throat, measuring his words before speaking, for once in his life.
“Do you know what happened to your dad?”
“Mommy says he left cause he wasn’t good like her. She says it’s okay, though, cause we only need each other but my friend Lilly has a mommy and a daddy and she told me that sometimes when her mommy’s sad or tired he’ll do all the grown-up stuff like cook and read her a story while her mommy rests and she’s happier that way. I want my mommy to be happy like that too.”
For Tom, it felt like his cold, dead heart was starting to beat again. This little angel sitting on his lap was asking for something most children already had, not for herself, but for her mother.
“You’re a really good person, Millie.”
“If you stopped saying so many bad words you’d be one too, Tommy.”
The boys laughed yet again and they continued talking for a little while, refraining from any work-related issues for the sake of their newest addition, choosing instead to discuss sports and fighting over who’d be on cleaning duty that Sunday. Three more bills made their way to the jar during that particular discussion, one from each boy (bar Sam because he was on cooking duty, as always), and for once they allowed themselves to relax and simply be, instead of always worrying.
You got out of the kitchen with the men’s orders ready and looked at the end of the counter, planning to check on Millie before walking over to the mobsters’ table. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t find her and you immediately looked towards the girls’ table or the Lees’, finding she wasn’t there either.
“Mommy, over here!”
You followed your child’s voice and your eyes widened once you saw her sitting on the leader’s lap. The smiling leader’s lap.
You quickly made your way to their booth, placing their orders in front of them without even taking your eyes off your daughter.
“Millicent Rose! What have I told you about bothering people when they’re in their booths?”
She looked guilty for half a second but immediately perked up again, ready to defend herself.
“Not to, but Mommy, he said a bad word so I had to take the swear jar to him.”
“And why, pray tell, are you sitting in the gentleman’s lap?”
“His name’s Tommy and he said he didn’t mind and this way I can talk to Thor, Twin Nice and Twin Naughty better.”
Tommy, Thor, Twin Nice, and Twin Naughty?
“Oh, fuck me.”
Millie’s jaw dropped open. She’d never heard you swear before.
“You owe a pound, Mommy.”
“Yeah, I know, I know.”
You pulled a pound from your pocket and put it in, eyes widening at the amount of money in the jar.
“How in the world?”
“I didn’t have singles so I just put hundreds in. Apparently, it’s a donation to the 'Get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation.”
You set the jar down and shook your head in disbelief.
“I am never letting Harley babysit you ever again.”
She pouted and slumped down, arms crossed adorably in front of her.
“Now come on, let the gentlemen eat their lunch in peace and come get yours.”
She cuddled up to Tom more than before, burying her head in his chest and fisting his shirt, and shaking her head in protest.
“Millie, come on, let’s go. I’m so sorry for the bother sir.”
“It’s no problem, she’s welcome to say for however long she wants.”
The brunette smiled at your daughter and then at you, before the man on his right interrupted.
“Besides, she’s very entertaining. It’s nice to see someone else call Tom out on his bullshit.”
You and Millie threw the blonde matching glares while Tom just pushed the jar towards him.
“You owe a pound, Haz”
“Excuse you Tommy, my name’s Thor.”
He then turned to you with a smug smile and attitude.
“Cause I have pretty eyes like him and look very strong. Don’t you agree with your daughter… (Y/n)?”
He read your name tag and smiled charmingly while you pursed your lips, looking him up and down. You then looked at your little girl.
“You sure?”
“Well, who else has pretty blue eyes?”
“Captain America.”
She light up right away and straightened herself.
“Right! And he looks like Captain America when he was tiny! Thanks, Mommy!”
She then turned to Harrison with a gigantic smile on her face.
“You’re Tiny America now.”
The whole table -bar Haz- laughed and you had to bite your lip not to laugh too, instead linking your hands and looking at the clock.
“Come on Millie, it’s time to eat.”
“Can I eat here with Tommy, please?”
“If you eat here with Tommy I won’t be able to make sure you eat your veggies.”
The man’s heart stuttered when you used his nickname, a strange sense of happiness overcoming him.
“Tommy can check.”
“Mm… I’m not sure if he can check you ate them. He’s not used to your sneakiness.”
“What if I pinky promise to eat my veggies and eat a banana for dessert instead of ice cream?”
It was a struggle to get her to eat fruits and veggies. You usually had to settle for one or the other, so when she spontaneously decided to eat both, you jumped at the opportunity, mob be damned.
“Deal! But no annoying the boys.”
She smiled and nodded, settling comfortably on Tom’s lap, waiting for her food. You took out her plate of chicken nuggets, fries, and green beans, chocolate milkshake to wash it down.
You tried not to let the butterflies in your stomach distract you from your job but the way Tom smiled at your daughter and praised her when she ate all her veggies in a row, wanting to get it over with, made your heart ache, the longing for someone still very much present.
“Have a nice meal.”
You made eye contact with the brunette and blushed at the smile he sent you before waving goodbye at the Lees. The teenage couple had left a bit earlier so the mobsters were now your last customers of the day.
You wiped the kitchen counters and said goodbye to Lou, assuring him that you’d close up by yourself. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath and sighed, unable to stop your smile when you heard your daughter’s laugh carrying through the wall separating you from the group.
“Mommy, we’re done!”
You straightened up and schooled your features before walking over to them, taking away their plates while asking if Millie behaved and if they wanted dessert. The answer to both questions was a yes and so you came back a little while later with chocolate pudding for the twins, caramel ice cream for Harrison, a banana split for Tom, and a miniature one for Millie.
“Since you behaved so nicely you get a little sweetness with your banana.”
Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly at you.
“You’re the best mommy ever! I love you!”
“Love you too, baby.”
You turned around, ready to leave, when a voice stopped you.
“Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? I’m pretty sure that if you wipe that table down one more time you’ll remove the paint.”
You blushed but complied, sitting down next to Harrison and watching as your daughter ate her dessert quickly and quietly, wincing from time to time because of brain freezes. As soon as she was done, she reached for Tom’s right hand. He switched the hand that held the spoon, eating with his left so that Millie could play with the ring on his finger.
Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of trouble eating with his non-dominant hand while holding a child on his lap, leading to a bit of ice cream falling on his shirt.
“Ah, fu-”
You shot him a glare that made him change courses immediately.
“-dge. Fudge.”
Millie clapped and gave him a big, approving smile.
“See, Mommy? He’s making progress!”
“Indeed he is, darling.”
“Oh, this is fucking hilarious!”
The young girl gasped, mouth open comically wide and utter betrayal swimming in her eyes.
“I thought you were nice.”
Sam realized his mistake as soon as she spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as if to stop any more of the offending words from leaving it.
“You owe five pounds.”
“What? Why? I only said one swear word!”
She shook her head in disapproval, arms crossed in front of her chest, and pushed the jar towards him.
“You made me believe you were nice so your trickster-y will cost you four extra pounds.”
You shook your head, smile firmly plastered on your face as you watched Sam pull out a hundred dollar bill with a pout on his lips. It was quite endearing, really.
“So, (Y/n), tell us about you.”
You locked eyes with the brunette once again, piercing gaze seemingly looking through you.
“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, Mr Holland. I’m not a very interesting person.”
Your voice was soft, your words calculated. You knew that these men could kill you in the blink of an eye.
“No uninteresting person could have raised such a perfect little angel.”
He smirked and Millie looked at you with a smug smile.
“See, he said I was an angel.”
Life be damned, it’s not worth living if your daughter has an ego the size of Russia. That would most definitely come back to bite you in the ass.
“Yeah, that’s cause he hasn’t had to deal with you in all your nightly glory.”
She put her tongue out and snuggled deeper into Tom’s chest.
“Well, for one, how did you find yourself working here?”
He got the conversation back on you and you felt slightly intimidated with the whole table’s eyes on little old you.
“Customers are nice, I earn enough money for us to get by, owner’s nice, the school’s at the end of the street, and Millie gets to stay with me when she’s not there.”
Even though he was focused on you, you noticed the way he held your daughter close to his chest, his bigger frame completely enveloping her smaller one. She still hadn’t let go of his hand and kept playing with the ring on his finger. Seeing how calm and caring he was being with your daughter calmed you down and the more questions you answered, the more comfortable you became.
“How can you work at a dinner and not like vanilla milkshakes?”
Sam looked horrified at that, and you just shrugged dismissively.
“I never really liked when vanilla was too present. Like, if you used it to just enhance everything else you know, make it taste better, then sure, but just vanilla isn’t really my style.”
Tom took a sharp breath in and tried to stop his mind from wandering at the possible double meaning of your words. Instead, he chose to focus on the little girl on his lap.
Until he noticed she was asleep, that is.
He smiled a little and shifted her so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. Unfortunately for him, that caught your attention.
“Oh my, is she asleep? I’m really sorry.”
“No worries, though we should probably get her to bed so she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.”
For the umpteenth time, you pushed down the butterflies upon hearing him say 'we’ and being so careful with your daughter.
You took the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen, putting them in the wash and turning on the machine, leaving it to run so tomorrow morning you’d be able to put everything away. You went back in to clean the booth and Tom practically shoved a hundred dollar bill in your hand, ignoring your protests.
He waited for you by the door while you finished closing up, and you extended your arms towards him when you finished.
“Thank you for everything today, but you must be getting tired, I can take her from here.”
He gently pushed your arms down.
“Let me take you home, please, I don’t like the idea of you having to carry her all on your own.”
You hesitantly nodded and he guided you to his car. It’s only then that you noticed the other three had left. You settled on the passenger side of his black Audi and he handed you Millie, closing the door softly as to not startle her. He then entered the driver’s side and started the car. You gave him directions to your apartment building and within five minutes, he parked the car right out front.
Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying the little girl. Knowing by now that there wasn’t much you could do to protest, you agreed and led him up the four flights of stairs to your door.
“Sorry 'bout the mess.”
“It’s no problem, darling, I quite like it.”
You turned your head for a brief second, as if asking him to elaborate while still leading him to your daughter’s room.
“The fact that it’s messy means that someone lives here, that this isn’t just some house, it’s a home. My house is always pristine but that’s because no one’s ever there to actually use it as something other than a glorified B&B.”
He laid Millie down on the bed and you pulled the covers over her. You both stood side to side for a little while, just watching her breathe.
“That sounds really lonely.”
“Yeah…”
Another minute passed by with no words coming from either of you.
“You raised an amazing daughter, (Y/n).”
“You’re a good man, Tom.”
Hearing those unfamiliar words coming out of your mouth almost brought tears to his eyes. He was always used to being called a ruthless mobster, cold-blooded killer, or many other names that all meant the same thing: monster. But you called him a good man, and the sincerity in your voice was almost overwhelming.
He cleared his throat and straightened up, making you turn towards him.
“I should probably go… You should get some rest as well.”
You nodded and walked him to the door. In a split-second decision, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, locking eyes with him afterwards.
“If you ever need an escape, or just wanna hang out somewhere different, our door’s always open.”
That made a smile take over his face and he kissed your forehead.
“Thank you, darling.”
And as you watched him round the corner, only your back visible to you, you couldn’t help but feel like this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw Tom Holland.
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i have mixed feelings concerning this story but at least i have ideas for a part two (if i ever decide to make one)
don’t forget to reblog, comment or like if you feel like it <3
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dameronology · 3 years
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tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 4
summary: it’s the morning after the night before. time for a very awkward conversation.
warnings: warnings, very very brief alluding to smut but rly only if u squint 
song for this chapter is best friend by rex orange county! also the series masterlist can be found through the link to my main masterlist in my bio :) enjoy!
- jazz
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You were’t sure what you needed more the next day: painkillers, to help your hangover or another round of drinks, to help you forget what you’d done night before. 
Or should I say - who you had done the night before. 
You didn’t sleep with your co-workers, much less your boss. God, it was almost as bad as if you’d slept with Merl - no, you couldn’t even let your brain go there. You’d already thrown up twice that morning (once into Jack’s toilet and then once into the subway tracks) and you didn’t need to make yourself do it again. Your stomach was churning and it felt as though the Blue Man Group were rehearsing their drum set in your frontal lobe. You’d tried to nurse it with a large block coffee and a half a packet of painkillers but alas, to no success. 
Somehow, though, your physical pains were the least of your worries. The fact you’d snuck out of Jack’s apartment and left without a word was playing over and over again in your head - so much so, that you almost didn’t come into work. Almost. Not even this situation was enough to make you take a day off. 
‘Is there a reason you’ve been stood outside the office for fifteen minutes, agent?’ You jumped at the sound of Champ’s voice. He glanced between the Starbucks coffee in his hand and the bruise around your left eye (fuck, you’d forgotten about that), quirking an eyebrow. ‘Rough night?’
‘No.’ You quickly answered. ‘Sir.’
‘So you what...walked into a door?’
Got drunk, tried to square up to a guy, got punched and then fucked my boss - thanks for asking. 
‘Yeah.’ You nodded. ‘I’m not normally clumsy but I forget that doors in America...go the other way? You know, drive on the other side of the road, use a different weight system, doors that go-’
‘- you can stop now, Percival.’ Champ cut you off. ‘Make sure you look after yourself.’
‘Right.’ You nodded. ‘Thank you.’
With the agent staring you at expectantly, you had no choice but to go into the office. You forced a smile, using your weight to budge open the door and step inside. 
The sound of your heels against the floor announced your entrance; the faint smell of Jack’s aftershave wasn’t normally that noticeable, but that morning, it wasn’t doing you any favours. You stood in the door way for a moment, letting it shut behind you as your eyes landed on the cowboy. 
He didn’t even look at you. Why wasn’t he looking at you? Fuck, had you upset him-
‘Nice of you to make an appearance, Percy.’ He suddenly spoke, flashing you a smile as he tore his eyes away from his computer screen. ‘How’s the shiner? Your buddy sure did pack a punch, huh?’
‘Uh, yeah.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘It’s fine, a little sore.’
‘You should pop down the lab on your break. Ginger will sort it out in no time.’ He leant back in his chair. 
‘Are we just not gonna talk about the fact we slept together last night?’ 
Jack suddenly jumped in surprise, eyes widening. Right, clearly not. 
‘I was trying to find a way to bring up such a sensitive subject.’ He replied. ‘But I guess I don’t gotta worry.’
You sighed as you walked over to your desk, placing your bag down and taking a seat. Fuck, your head was killing. You rubbed your eyes and cleared your throat, forcing yourself to continue the difficult conversation you’d just unwittingly started. You got the vibe that people in the South probably didn’t talk about sex so crudely. Twenty-something years of hanging around Eggsy Unwin had de-sensitised you to the idea of it being a taboo subject. 
‘I’m sorry I left this morning without saying anything.’ You sheepishly murmured. ‘When I do stuff like that, it’s usually with random guys I found in a bar.’
The biggest question that kept playing over and over in your head was why? 
Why Jack? You’d rebuffed Tequila’s advances before he could even finish the damn sentence and yet you’d slipped into bed with Jack with ease. It was probably to do with the fact he’d been such a good kisser, and the rest did not disappoint. It had been good. Really good. Possibly the best you’d ever had, actually. He’d said at the beginning of the night that he was going to help you kick back and chill out and...yeah, he’d done a pretty good job. 
‘It doesn’t affect me, sugar.’ Jack shrugged. ‘I don’t see why it has to change anything between us.’
Of course. Had you forgotten who you were talking to? This was Whiskey, the biggest flirt at the fucking agency. He’d probably had a different girl the night before you, and he was probably going to have somebody else tonight. He hadn’t said or done anything that could have lead you to believe it meant something more. Sure, you’d become friends and saw each other day and yeah, he drove you home sometimes because he didn’t want you to walk home in the dark and he had invited you out to help you de-stress when you needed it most. 
Did you like Jack? Did you want it to be something more? Did the last few weeks all....add up to something? Then again, maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he was just looking out for you, because you were a young woman, alone in the city. Perhaps last night had just been...a fluke. A glitch in the system. A wobble in what was otherwise a completely professional relationship.
‘No, you’re right.’ You nodded, scratching the back of your neck. It really felt like you should have said something more, because it felt like something more. ‘It didn’t mean anything.’
He quirked a brow at you. ‘So we’re good?’
You forced a smile. ‘Better than ever, Whiskey.’ 
You’d had one night stands before. They were standard, really - but it was rare you found yourself thinking about them the next day. Something between you just worked. You couldn’t put your finger on it, in the same way you couldn’t spell out the sudden urge to kiss him last night, but some things just couldn’t be explained. Your attraction to him certainly couldn’t be - he was older, used the worst nicknames and spoke to you entirely in Southern metaphors. But, as aforementioned, he’d also looked after you.
Maybe that was what you needed. Maybe it was what you wanted-
- You stopped yourself there. No time to unpack all of that, especially when you were this hungover and spent most of your waking hours spitting fire about how independent you were. You’d had Tequila pinned to the wall less than twelve hours ago for trying to make move on you.  It was probably something to save for therapy (which was on your to-do list). 
The tension in the room felt a little more reflective of a fight between a couple than it did of two friends who had casually slept together the night before. Normally, the room was just calm, filled with the only sounds of you two occasionally cracking jokes or your fingers desperately tapping away at your respective computers. Now? It was tense. Suffocatingly so, as though it could have swallowed you whole. 
‘I’m gonna get more coffee.’ You announced, abruptly. ‘And I guess I’ll pay Ginger a visit to sort out this annoying fucking bruise. You want anything from Starbucks?’
‘Didn’t you just go?’ He observed. 
‘Yeah, but I want some fresh air.’
As you passed Jack’s desk on the way out, he reached out and grabbed your hand, quickly tangling your fingers in his. He peered up at you, brow furrowed - you were off. He knew you were off. He’d proven time and time again over the last month that he could read you like a fucking book. You were a clown for thinking that he wouldn’t notice the fact you’d completely retracted into yourself, or that you’d suddenly from from Jack to Whiskey. 
‘You’re annoyed at me.’ He observed.
‘I’m not annoyed at you.’ You didn’t try to pull your hand back. ‘I’m annoyed at...myself, I guess.’
‘Why?’ 
‘Because I let last night happen.’ You explained. ‘I shouldn’t have made a move on you, I shouldn’t have broken every professional boundary between us for one night of meaningless-’
‘- what if it wasn’t meaningless?’
You froze, suddenly snatching your hand back. What were you meant to say to that? You couldn’t work out if you wanted it to mean something. There was so much to untangle but your main concern was sorting out your sore nose and banging head ache. 
‘Jack...’ you murmured. ‘I can’t talk about this right now. My head is on fire and my nose is fucking purple.’
He stood up, reaching for his jacket. ‘C’mon then, I’ll take you down the lab.’
‘I can get there myself, really.’
‘D’you know where it is, sugar?’
‘I can work it out.’ You shot back. ‘I’m smart-’
Before you could finish your sentence, he had a hand on the small of your back and was guiding you out the room and down the hall. That was new; he hadn’t really shown you any signs of physical touch - excluding last night, obviously - but the progression felt...natural. Heck, Jack hadn’t even realised he was doing it, and you didn’t feel the urge to complain or push him off.
That was probably saying something. 
--
‘There we go.’ Ginger murmured, slowly dabbing at the bruise with...something. ‘Good as new.’
You felt as good as new. After putting a weird paste on your nose and forcing some fancy, top-of-the-range painkillers down your throat, your hangover was gone and your nose was no longer stinging. You’d been out here thinking that Kingsman had been far ahead with their medical technology, but this place made it look Victorian. You were tempted to ask if they had an amnesia-inducing medication that could make you and Jack forget the events of last night, but then you realised something.
You didn’t want to forget.
‘Thank you, Ginger.’ You smiled. ‘I really appreciate it.’
‘What did you do to end up with a busted nose and black eye, anyways?’ Ginger raised her eyebrows. 
‘Our girl tried to deck a man twice her size because she thought he was following a woman into the bathroom.’ Jack replied, gently rubbing your shoulder. That’s fine. That was totally fine. You were fine. 
‘I had the right intentions.’ You muttered. ‘Anyways - Calahan isn’t gonna catch himself, so I gotta get back to work. Thank you again, G.’
That was code for Jack and I are about to have a very awkward conversation. To be frank, you would have begrudgingly left at the whole ‘it didn’t mean anything’ point, but he’d been the one to push it, to float out the idea that it could mean something. You’d thought it, but he’d been the one to say it. That was the huge difference between the two of you. You could compartmentalise your feelings when they proved to be an inconvenience. Jack Daniels, however, was...brash. When he felt something, he had to say it. It was a blessing and a curse. 
You both walked back to your office in silence, once again with Jack’s hand resting on the small of your back. He knew you didn’t need looking after - hell, you’d proved that ten times over - but it almost like he was keeping an eye on you. He’d seen you square up to two different men in the last twenty four hours. It was for your safety, really. 
The minute the door had shut behind you both, that tension immediately returned. This time, however, there was a little hint of excitement. Anticipation, maybe. 
‘So...’ you trailed off, leaning against your desk. Awkwardly playing with your hands, you peered over at him. ‘Let’s recap: we slept together, I snuck out, we said it didn’t mean anything and then two seconds later, you retracted that statement.’
‘I didn’t retract it.’ Jack insisted. ‘I was just reading your signals - which are confusing as fuck, by the way, sweetheart - because you were the one who walked out.’
‘My signals?’ You scoffed. ‘You were the one who invited me out the in first place! And the one who drives me home every damn night so I don’t have to walk alone!’
‘You’re the one who’s being as skitterish as a calf at a goddamn smoke out-’
‘- as a what at a what?!’ You spluttered. ‘You’re the one calls me sweetheart all the time!’
‘Yeah, well, you’re the one who kissed me first-’
‘- just shut up a second!’ You held your finger out to him. He silenced immediately. 'I feel like we’re overcomplicating this.’
He quirked an eyebrow. ‘We are?’
‘Whi - Jack.’ You took a deep breath. ‘I am going to ask you this once, and once only. If you say no, I’ll move on and we can act like this never happened. If you say yes...we can discuss it, okay?’
‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘Go for it.’
‘Did last night mean anything to you?’ You asked the question slowly, in the same tone you might ask a child what small object they had in their mouth. 
‘Not at first.’ Jack replied. ‘I didn’t go into it with the intention of it meaning something.’
You frowned. ‘Do go on.’
‘I was gonna come in this morning and pretend like it never happened. Then I saw you, with that stupid bruise and stupid smile and I realised that you’re brash and dumb and fucking gorgeous and ...shit, you’re spiteful as hell and I’m a little terrified of you but damn, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fucking obsessed with you.’
‘Well, shit.’ You murmured. It was the answer you’d wanted just...in a lot more words. 
For a long time, your head strong nature and inability to tolerate ninety-nine percent of the human race was something people had used a reason not to like you. But Jack? Oh, no. Not him. He saw it as a challenge, maybe. He had an urge to cut through the thorny outside and trying to see what you held on the inside. He’d see little bits of it here and there - your smile when you spoke about Eggsy, or the way you’d gone out your way to try and protect that woman - but he was determined to find more. He wanted to find more. You were an enigma, a vortex of swear words and brash decisions, and hell, you were sucking him right in.
‘You gonna say anything more than shit?’ He urged. 
You’d never been all that good with words. Didn’t actions speak louder? That’s what your mum had always said, and it had proven true in your line of work too. Punching the daylights out of someone was always a clearer threat than a concerning phone call. Pulling your weight on every mission was more proof of hard work than gloating to your uppers about your achievements.
And kissing your boss was a much clearer sign of telling him that you liked him too rather than just verbalising it.
Jack almost veered backwards when you lunged at him, just about catching you in his arms. Your lips crashed together - it was a little more desperate than last night, but then again, so was the whole situation. His arms caught you at the waist, holding you against his chest as he kissed you right back.
After a few moments, you pulled back for air. Neither of you said anything, instead choosing to just stare at each other with disbelief.
‘That was very unprofessional of me.’ You admitted. ‘But I do like you Jack and I’m worried it’s going to be a problem-’
‘- since when has mutual attraction ever been a problem?’ Jack practically snorted at the idea. ‘I like you. You like me. I don’t get what’s so complicated about that, sugar.’
‘Because it’s unprofessional! You’re my boss and I’m here to work.’ You suddenly took a step back, complex feelings finally colliding. ‘To prove myself and get a promotion!’
‘And you’re doing that just fine!’ He shot back. ‘Better than fine! You work your ass off ten times harder than any agent I’ve ever met. I don’t know how those uppity goddamn suit-makers haven’t realised what an asset you are.’
‘Are you saying that because you like me or because you mean it?’
‘Ouch.’ He murmured. ‘Even if I couldn’t stand you, I would still recognise the fact you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever seen.’
‘Wouldn’t that be an ideal world.’ You snorted. 
‘How about this?’ Jack reached forward, taking your hands in his. ‘It’s clear that whatever happens now, we probably can’t go back to how things were. I can try, but I promise you it won’t happen.’
You nodded in agreement. 
‘So, you can back track on everything we’ve just said and let it affect how we work together, or we can just lean into this whole stupid thing.’ He continued. ‘We’ll work together and play together. Two birds one stone, just until you go back to London.’ 
This was something of a rare opportunity: mutual attraction. Aside from the occasional one night stand in London, you barely had the chance to have fun. After years of hard work, maybe you deserved it. It was just...fooling around. You’d both admitted you liked one another but it was hardly a grand declaration at love. There were some feelings at stake, but not enough for you to be worried. 
‘We need ground rules.’ You replied. ‘I like you and you like me but we have to put the brakes on it there. You have to promise not to fall in love with me. Obsession only, okay?’
Jack tilted his head to the side, as if to say fair enough. ‘Sure thing. Anything else?’
‘The minute this starts to interfere with my work, I’m cutting you out.’ Your tone was a little sterner. ‘Heck, the second it happens, this stops. It’s...an addition to my work, not a replacement.’
‘As your superior...’ he said the words teasingly. You hated that you loved it. ‘I will make that doesn’t happpen.’
‘Good.’ You gave him a curt nod. ‘Then it’s settled.’
You stuck your hand out for him to shake. Jack peered down at it, almost waiting for you to retract it and break into a grin. But that didn’t happen. You were completely serious. Could he put it down to British weirdness? Probably. 
‘You drive me fucking insane.’ The cowboy grabbed your hand, yanking you towards him and capturing you in another kiss. 
tags: @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @imananxiousdriver​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @66wookies​ @paintballkid711​ @waatermelon-sugaar​ @hepburnwritess​ @haileyybird​ @xjaywritesx​ @jabbajambler​ @the-mandalorian-clone-lover​ @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @wickedmuse​ (message me if you wanna be added!) 
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mrs-nate-humphrey · 3 years
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This is totally cool, lol! That's why I tagged you, I like different perspectives 🥰 and I adore lesbian Jenny
I've been thinking a lot about Jenny's character and sexuality lately since I'm in the middle of rewatching the show. I totally agree that she's attracted to women and most times she pursues guys it's mainly to increase social status and not because of genuine interest. Nate always felt different to me, though. Like, the two times she really pursues him is in season 2, when she's being homeschooled and trying to make it as a designer, and the end of season 3, which is after the whole Damien drama and she's just looking for someone who cares about her and respects her (I know you said once that it doesn't even feel romantic here, which I also agree with, poor girl just needs a connection). I do really see how it can be interrupted as comphet, though. Like she feels like she's supposed to be attracted to Nate because who wouldn't be?
I think the reason why I lean the other way is probably just projection. Jenny's been my favourite GG character since I first watched the show when I was 12, partly because I relate a lot to her, and since I'm bisexual... Add that plus the fact that I totally have had a crush on Nate and of course I'm gonna ship them. I've been relating to Jenny even more this time around cause I dropped out of school this year, so her season 2 arc really hit close to me. So this made my jenate feelings come back tenfold and also made me that much madder at Rufus, lol. I just wanted to go through the screen and shake his shoulders like "There are other paths than the one you want your daughter to have, not everyone has to go through life like society expects you to let your daughter carve out her own unconventional path you fucking idiot!" Luckily my parents have been way more supportive.
Mainly I just see Jenny as bi with a strong lean towards women, but I like to think about lesbian Jenny, too. It wouldn't exactly be the first time I had contradicting headcanons.
I don't know I just think it's really cool that different people can have such different interpretations of the same character. I think that's what's so interesting about fiction, to see how we view things differently depending on how we view and relate to things based on our own experiences. Tumblr can be so focused on hating people who disagree with you, but I like following people with different opinions, it helps me understand people better.
Yeah, I'm glad you tagged me!! back in November, some anons were mean to me about shipping Jenate (me??? who literally does not even - anyway) and ever since then I've been trying extra to ensure that Jenate shippers feel welcome on my blog - you may already know this, because I've brought it up before, but I'm saying it here to let you know that every time you tag me in your Jenate edits I get so happy that you're sharing something you're so passionate about with me!! I'm also a big believer of like........ making the content you want to see (a big part of why I even learnt to gif is because nobody was giffing Dan & Nate, and I was like...... that's the content I need, so if it's not already existing, I'm gonna make it happen!) so regardless of my feelings it's always so cool to see the way you conceptualise JN + their feelings re: each other, and your choice of scenes + lyrics (??? I'm not actually familiar with where you got the words for your edits, they're likely songs I haven't heard, haha) is just so interesting & good!
OH my full Jenny & Nate feelings are a lot more complicated than just comphet on Jenny's part. I feel like..... neither of them was romantically/sexually into each other? and that is kind of the appeal to me? I've always interpreted Nate's interest in Jenny during the s2 arc as sort of like - everything in his life is so unstable and undetermined, and here is Jenny who is so clear on who she is and what she wants, and he admires and respects that, and he wants to be there for her and support her, so when she kisses him he just sort of lets her take their dynamic wherever she wants to? that is very much the vibe I got. You already know how I feel about lesbian Jenny, I mean, you quoted my meta right back at me :'))
but I DO agree with you that Nate is different from the other guys to Jenny. JN have this really specific kind of honesty to them - well, when Jenny wasn't spiralling and trying to get power and acting out, and when the writers actually cared? I still think that NJ had the potential to be a SOLID dynamic but the writers made it sorta unhealthy on the show :(( - but I've spoken abt moments like in seventeen candles and the empire strikes jack before, where they're both able to be emotionally vulnerable around each other in ways we don't see them be with anyone else. I've even compared that to what I like about Derena, whom everyone knows I ship in every possible way, haha. But there's something about characters who trust each other and allow themselves to be honest with each other in ways that they wouldn't otherwise EVER be - especially with characters like Jenny & Nate who have spent so long trying to seem fine and okay even when they're really not.
I honestly really like the idea of queerplatonic Jenate - they're life partners, they're each other's rock, they're each other's person - but it's not romantic OR sexual - and for Nate & Jenny, whose adolescence has involved navigating other people sexualising them so much + not having the best track record with romantic relationships - for them, I feel being qpps gets REALLY interesting, because you get all the perks of a relationship without the romantic/sexual obligations? (obligations isn't the best word, but i don't know what else to use here? LOL) and that's something i love to explore.
I feel like book Jenny was bi! The way she gushed about Nate, whom she canonically had a crush on, and the way she gushed about Serena were EXACTLY the same. Also YES I love multiple headcanons always, it's a lot of fun seeing people explore that!!! I know people who have aroace readings of Jenny, or aro lesbian / ace lesbian readings of her, and I find that really cool, too!
I also definitely get you about relating to Jenny a lot, and feeling that kind of connection. It's similar to how I feel about Dan, and .... explains a lot of my contradicting dair views, actually. A few years ago I had a seriously intense crush on a girl who was... a lot like Blair, in many ways. I spent a ridiculous amount of time writing poetry about her, etc etc, but I never actually acted on it. If she'd fabricated schemes that involved us kissing, though..... I don't know. I don't think I would've denied it if I'd felt like I actually had a chance. I think we just had a case of bad timing, & I like to think in another universe, maybe we were actually together for a bit. I'm glad that your parents are supportive of you and better than Rufus! <3
I think that's what's so interesting about fiction, to see how we view things differently depending on how we view and relate to things based on our own experiences <- THIS exactly! this is a big part of why that "proship" is in my bio. like this is exactly what it means to me and how I conceptualise & understand it!!! Like you, I also like engaging with people who have different understandings and opinions of the characters -> it definitely helps you make new friends you would otherwise not meet by staying in your bubble, & from a fandom point of view, it also helps you develop a more nuanced understanding of a character. Some of the best written Jenny Humphrey I've read was in Jenate fics - and I've had people who don't even ship Blenny tell me they liked the way I wrote Jenny in my post canon blennyfic, so... idk. it's loving Jenny hours - each and every single iteration of Jenny!!!
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boogiewrites · 3 years
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Never Break the Chain Pt. 2
Part 2 of 5
Characters: Javier Peña x OFC
Summary:  Javier and Esme's first time seeing each other in almost twenty years. A photograph leads to an obsessive hunt for the woman he thought was dead. They both find they got where they wanted. But is it what they want now?
Warnings/Tags: Tension. Big reunited kiss. 
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Time passes, as it always has and always will. It stopped for no man, not even Javier. Seeing his first love fade into nothing had left him a different man. Walls came up, barriers were built that his enemies would even be impressed by. She’d done him a favor, snapping him out of the young man’s dream, but he felt he had nothing left but trying to help once she was gone. So he threw himself into his work.
Sure there were other women. He thought he loved some, but would always leave them. He always hurt them and that wasn’t his intention precisely but they would thank him years later. He was what they would refer to in close company as “a dodged bullet”. He’d been called far worse.
He despised his cliche reactions to his trauma sometimes. Drinking, smoking, being a general pain in the ass, renowned and proud asshole was easier. Burying yourself in prostitutes and let them take away the thoughts for a little while was the easiest. He would fantasize he could help them, even save some of them. He surely wasn’t getting his hero complex stroked when it came to his work. He had a soft spot for women, he had learned the hard way the shit deal they’d landed when they were born. He couldn’t do much...but he could try to help. So he did. Loss after loss he kept trying. This was that bit of good Esme had always believed in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would have it so he made the best of it while he could.
The night before was nothing knew, an old habit at this point for him. He went out and got a woman, he’d pour every bit of good in him into her, convincing himself he still had it. He’d make them feel good, listen to them, things that were in short supply in their lives from men. He could be that good guy exception, if only for a short while. It felt nice to not be looked at with disgust or fear. The slivers of affection kept him going after dark. He’d leave them breathless, moans turning to laughs as they dressed, joking they might not make him pay. But they always took the money. And he offered it with no judgment, pulling his jeans on and halfway through a highball glass as his lean outstretched arm offer up their compensation for making him feel something good and push out the bad thoughts for a short while. He could be making worse decisions.
He rubs his temple, suppressing a groan as he slid his way into the uncomfortable chair at the beaten-up metal table. The chatter of his coworkers all making their way into the room was grating but nothing he couldn’t ignore. Morning debriefing, something he gave a shit about. Well, work was the one thing he gave a shit about right now, hyper-focused on the clock and trying to drown out the obsession off the clock. It was a dynamic that he was still trying to perfect. He downs the hot black coffee in his hand and nods at the secretary just outside the doorway, “Get me another, sugar. No sugar.” he winks and sends her off. She side-eyed him and went on her way, that was just Pena to her, horny but harmless. He cracks his back, a grunt before landing his elbows on the table to focus, the overblown commander coming in with a handful of photos, spreading them on the table as they talked about what they always did, the cartel.
Pena tries to approach everything individually, but there was only so much range these guys had, and not seeing them all as one giant collection of piss ants with assault rifles was something getting harder and harder to do. So as new and old names were said, he watched the board fill out, the line attaching known connections and new ones. There had been a new wave of intel, something Pena and his partner Murphy were used to being the ones doing, but he wouldn’t complain if someone else finally wanted to sack up and their fucking job like they were supposed to.
“So we have our old friends,” a slap of photos to the board. “Then there’s a new round of boys coming in.” he taps the newest addition to the board. “Seems we’re getting inbred with the other families, the jewel smugglers, the miners...seems we’re trying to venture out and expand our already impressive portfolio.” he snorts.
“They can never just be fucking satisfied with their millions.” someone groans and complains.
“It’s a good chance try to take them down too.” Murphy shrugs.
“Eyes on the prize, kiss ass,” Pena says quietly, accepting his coffee without a second glance. “Do we know these women?” he asks with a nod in the direction.
“Typical.” Murphy rolls his eyes.
“No. Our assumption is prostitutes. Nothing new there.” the commander goes on, but he quickly becomes background noise as Pena stands and moves toward the board. He stood, hips jutted forward, eyes scanning, hand over his mouth in thought. Once he saw the new pictures he hadn’t heard another word the men had said. “PENA!” barked his way grabs his attention as he casually shifts his attention.
“Mmmph. Yeah.” he mutters, eyes moving back to the board.
“I was informing you, you’d be doing street intel on these newcomers.”
“Yeah,” he says disinterested, thumbing his lip before placing his hands on his hips. “Do we have these photos in color?”
The question catches the room off guard. “Why?” he’s met with annoyed opposition.
“This woman…” he taps the photo of a woman with a sly smile on the arm of a very powerful man. Dark waves teased and a heart-shaped face buried in a fur coat collar worth more than he made in a year. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen her before…”
“They’re whores Javi, of course, you have.” Murphy leads the room in a wave of amused hums and chuckles.
“No I’m serious,” he says with no inflection, catching his partner’s attention. “Do we have a location on them if there’s no color?”
“Why’s color important?”
He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tense and eyes blinking, baffled at what he was allowing himself to think. “Her eyes… were green.” MUrphy readjusts himself in his seat, watching Pena’s eyes carefully. He could swear they looked sad.
“What information we’ve got is here.” the commander points at the table with its thick manilla envelopes.
Javier nods with no spoken response, staying in place until the room is empty except for a hesitant Murphy who approaches him. “Who is she?” he asks quietly.
He shakes his head in response. “It can’t be her,” there’s a heavy pause, “But it...fuck it looks like her…” his voice trails off and Murphy is left with more questions.
“Well, are you gonna answer me or just write poetry about her Javi?”
“She’s…” he sighs and sucks his teeth. “She’s supposed to be dead.”
“Did you-?”
“No… no… nothing like that.” his voice still quiet. “I knew her… fuck...over a decade ago now.”
“So we can add hunting ghosts to our agenda now too. Great.” Murphy takes it lightly and presses his lips together. He stares at Javi, his eyes dark and focused. He was left with more questions than answers. His money was still on it being a hooker. It’s not as if Pena had even talked about Esme since the investigation when he was young. His partner may have his back in life or death situations, and they may have been close, but no one knew about her. Pena had hoped to keep it that way. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped it wasn’t her. Because if it was… well he didn’t know what he’d do.
---------------------------------------------------
Esme didn’t know it but with every minute that passed, she was being proven right about her belief in her first love, that if he knew she was alive, that he would find her.
Esme had ran, a bug out bag down the river and no trace left behind. She made her way south over the years, learning her craft and making friends in the right places. She’d started with rich men, especially rich white men trying to make a living off exploiting her fellow man in Mexico. It had been almost too easy. They thought nothing of her and wore her as if she were a watch; on their arm and shiny and proof of their wealth. She would gain access, gather intel and then sweep in and take the goods and ghost out.
Esme had been legally declared dead and was now living as Estelle. She had so many names over the years but her current incarnation was Estelle. And she was a star. She’d become what she wanted, she was rich and self-reliant. She needed no one and had her fun as she craved it. There were men and women and drugs and jewels and for so long it had been a pleasant hazy dream. But the novelty of it wore off, she grew bored,  a witness to her hypocrisy, growing soft and lazy with her indulgence. When she emerged from her haze and saw the state of the world around her she knew things had changed. Narcos now ruled the world. The government bowed to them, the poor worshipped them. She saw they were the future, the new leaders. And for her, that meant that’s where she had to be.
She found herself once again sharp and full of adrenaline. Her new role took real savvy and cunning. Otherwise, she’d end up dead for real. She cozied up, working for Narcos to steal for them. It wasn’t hard in skill, but it was in the amount of sexist shit she had to deal with. She’d killed men for laying hands on her, and worse. She’d pulled knives and guns and made frown men piss themselves as she threatened them with words they’d never heard women utter up to that point. Most of the leaders would laugh until they cried after the fact, seeing a woman act in such away. She entertained them. They underestimated her, saw her as some novelty pet that fetched things and entertained them. She could handle that. As long as she got paid.
Following the groups, making her way around it made sense she found herself in Columbia. She knew it was dangerous, but she was addicted to it. It filled the void of sex and drugs for her for the most part, although she did partake among her peers from time to time. She thought it made her admirable, independent, and a shining example of what a woman could be if she had the nerve to do it. She was, to a degree, but she was also wrong. She lacked the softness in her life anyone, not just a woman needed. A void where no love or trust or intimacy was in her life she filled with material things and lists of her accomplishments. if she kept busy and looking ahead she wouldn’t be still king enough to face her demons.
Except she was about to come face to face with her biggest one.
As was his way, Javier had become a bit obsessed. He had to know if this woman was Esme. He’d been tracking her and was able to have DEA level observation to do it. It was a personal mission he’d been able to spin to look like a cartel one. There was a connection, she was seen with them, but little was known outside of that. After he’d put the word out for the beautiful woman with green eyes it hadn't taken long before someone scorned by her leaked information on her next job. The informant knew what his boss wanted to be stolen and when she’d be there. Normally no agent or cop would care to pay attention to her, or some jewels being stolen,  she was just some woman to them. But serendipitous timing made sure she became THE woman for one of them.
She practically waltzed into the store. She scaled a fence, a wall and came through a window but for her, that was practically begging her to steal from them. The rooms were dark, silent except for the sounds of her feet as she made her way into the back, unseen and unbothered. It wasn’t until she’d stopped to admire her score before snatching it they the clicking of a gun behind her caught her attention.
He’d waited in the shadows, and none too patiently. With the aim set to intimidate, not kill, he Easter no more time. “Who are you?” It came out as an order.
Her head snapped up, back still to the faceless voice she felt was all too familiar. She blinks, the former goal now removed and replaced with a flood of emotion. She remains silent, her turn to be shocked like he was when he saw her face in the photos.
“Turn around.” Another order. The voice was deeper, darker now but still made her feel the same way.
She turns, and painfully slow. She doesn’t meet his intense gaze immediately, reading his body language first and calming her racing mind. There’s no way it was him.
There’s no way it’s her, his mind reassures him. But as soon as her eyes raise to meet his his stomach drops. He was right.
“Javi?” It was almost a whisper, for the first time in she couldn’t remember when she didn’t hide her emotions in her face.
The gun falls first, his sense falling to the wayside as it slipped into its place in the back waist of his jeans. His frame was broader, still lean moves towards her with an earned confidence now. He doesn’t speak, staring at her as if she might not be real. She gives him his time. He’d earned it. “It really is you.” It was his turn to let the veil fall, dark eyes shining in the low, cool light.
She nods. “Javi I can explain.” She begins, prepared to apologize and ask forgiveness before asking him why the hell he was there at all. They were a long way from home.
“You’re alive.” A rather obvious statement that made her smile. It was all he could handle.
“I can explai-“ a quick burst of words before they’re cut off by his mouth landing against hers. She hadn’t expected this. She was prepared for many things last but not this, at least not for him to be kissing her. “Javi my-“ she tries to get out but his hands are already on her cheeks, hot and damp and certain. She lets her concern fade for a moment, it would all be fine. She gives in to it, lets him take the lead, and pull her against him roughly. The anger and hurt coming through in his grip on her back and face as they kissed breathlessly. He stole her focus without trying, there was the signature huff from his nose, the nuzzle into her between separating to catch his breath but he felt different. But so did she.
Where they once held differences in certainty they now held the opposite. He kissed her like he just found out his first love was alive after decades of vices to cover the loss. Because he had. Every woman and experience he’d had between her and now, every skill and thus gained confidence was clear and apparent. This was not a boy handling a girl. He was a man handling his woman.
And there she was, blindsided and touch starved, passion and intimacy starved being devoured by the only man she’d ever truly loved. The only man she’d ever let in and see her for what she was. The only man that knew Esmeralda. It was a raw and painful ache that emanated from her chest as she clutched her hand around his wrist and the other gripped his shirt in her hand. She gave in because she knew it wouldn’t last long, and after it was over she’d miss it.
With eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed to hers, his statuesque nose gently rubbing against hers he exhales hot against her face. “Esme…” he pulls back and holds her face, demanding her focus.
“It’s been so very long since someone’s called me that.” she sighs and puts her hands on his forearms.
“Since I called you that?”
She nods and smiles, face pressed into his hand.
“Maybe it’s about time people called you that again.” he pauses and looks her over with a hard brow, he couldn't hide his simmering anger underneath the confusion, relief, and affection. “Where the fuck have you been?” She sighs in response. “Why the hell are you HERE?”
“Same as you. Work.”
“Why are you with those men? Don’t you know who they are? What they do?”
“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”
“Why Esme?” his eyes water and his hands squeeze her face a bit too tightly before a wave of dizziness hit him.
“Same reason now as then,” she whispers, his grip loosening and not hearing her response, she slicks his dark hair back as his eyes start to roll around in their sockets. “You're fine, Javi. Seems you fell for my defense mechanism.” she smiles and he looks at her, starting to slump. “To be fair I didn’t know to expect you. You’ll wake up soon enough. It’s only temporary.” she wipes the culprit of the sudden wave of forced unconsciousness he was going through, her lipstick off his mouth. He was out quickly, and she spent some long moments exploring the now aged face of her once wide-eyed companion. “You are even more handsome than I thought you’d be.” she coos and kisses him after dragging him into a chair and pushing it into a corner so he wouldn’t fall. “It now inevitable we’ll meet again. My old hound dog.” She chuckles, a kiss to take in the scent of his hair before she parted ways. “See you later, mi amor.”
-----------
Peña awoke to a boot knocking against his knee and an odd headache. It was pitch black outside by now, people on the streets outside none the wiser to the life-altering experience he’d just had.
“Are we blacking out in stores now?” Murphy snarks and shakes his head, leaning against a door frame.
“That’s not...I’m not…” Javier shakes his head, rubbing and tapping at the pulse in his skull.
“Then what the hell is it?” He can hear the judgment in his partner's voice.
“If I told you you would think I was crazy.” he groans and sits up with his back straight in the chair, one cocked brow looking over to the man staring him down.
“And I don’t now?”
Peña huffs out a laugh. That was a fair assessment. He’d think the same thing. He looked across the room, the glass case he’d found her standing in front of now empty. “She took the jewels.” he switches the subject, an arm raised lazily and collapsing against his lap after.
“Were they made of cocaine? Why do we give a shit?”
“It’s not the jewels that are important. It’s the woman that did it.”
“A woman? Huh. That’s something you don’t see every day. That is… a little bit crazy I guess.”
“That’s not what’s crazy.”
“Am I gonna have to fuckin’ waterboard you man, just tell me.” he groans.
“That woman I told you about... that stole those... she's been declared legally dead for almost twenty years.” he finally says with a defensive tone and a face that said don’t fucking try me to the man still assessing his sanity with no attempt at hiding his negative prognosis.
“Oh.” Murphy contemplates looking away to the empty case. “That... yeah okay that is crazy.”
@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit
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whumper-boi · 3 years
Text
Someone needs to start holding me accountable, cause my dumbass will never actually write this fic if I’m not being forced to 🥸 anyways I said I’d do a stalking prompt yesterday so here we are.
———————
Whumpee laid curled up on their bed. The large duvet created almost a cloud of content around them, and they found themself in a really good mood.
A notification for friend request on an account they didn’t recognize popped up along the top of their phone.
Well that wasn’t too surprising. Whumpee had a couple popular accounts, and their username remained the same for most of their socials, so it wasn’t uncommon for them to get a follow or request from a stranger.
Clicking accept, then on the account, it revealed photos and videos of a pretty popular person on the app, who looked to be the same age as Whumpee.
It was almost ten minutes later when they got the request for a DM, same person who friended them.
‘Hi :)’, it read.
‘Hello :)’, Whumpee responded, making sure to add the smile at the end. ‘How are you?’
The read receipt popped up, and the indication that they were typing.
‘Good, just lying in bed. :) How about you?’
Whumpee grinned at the message. ‘Same mate. Just feels like one of those days, you know?’
‘Yeah, definitely.’
The conversation went on for a bit longer, the two of them just messaging back and forth about their day, or whatever seemed relevant at the moment.
‘I just think it’s a fun outfit, kind of suits you Whumpee.’
Whumpee was about to respond, but then they stopped. How the hell did this person know their name? They didn’t have it on any of their accounts.
‘Haha yeah, though i have a bit of a question- how did you get my name?’
‘?’
‘I don’t have it put in any of my bio’s or anything, I was just curious.’ They sat up in their bed, keeping the blankets pulled around their shoulders.
‘Ohhh- yeah sorry, I was actually recommended to check out your account by a follower of mine. They told me your name, so I just assumed it was common knowledge. Did you want me to not? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-‘
Whumpee furrowed their eyebrows. ‘No, you’re fine, I’m just trying to figure out how they got it now.’
‘Do you want me to send you the account? It’s a private btw.’
‘Please.’
‘Alright, one sec.’
Almost half a minute later, the other person sent the link to another account. Whumpee clicked on it, noticing that they had zero followers, and was only following four people.
Requesting to friend, they looked at the following section, a bit surprised to find themself on there.
It was them, the person the were DMing, and two others when, upon whumpee clicking, revealed to also be popular creators around their age. A constant.
The friend request was accepted, and what they saw nearly made Whumpee scream. It was pictures of them, along with the other three that were being followed.
Not just normal pictures however, these were photos through windows of them in the bathroom, in their rooms, houses, out in public, and it was clear, at the angle they were at, that they had no idea these photos were being taken.
Whumpee most certainly had no idea.
They wanted to block the account and call the police, but they realized they would need proof, and to let the other accounts know of the pictures of them.
Screenshots of the account were taken, of the pictures of them, and as much as Whumpee could find to prove enough.
Whumpee went back to the following section, following the other two and requesting to DM as they went to the account who talked to them first, sending all of the screenshots.
‘Holy shit- like, holy fucking shit, what the fuck?’
‘Yeah I know???? I’m trying to add the other two, hold on.’
It felt like hours, painstaking hours before the other two accepted the DMs. Whumpee added them into a group chat with the other person and sent in all the screenshots before anything else.
The person they’d been DMing, who Whumpee got to know as Whumpee B, had quickly filled in the other two on the situation.
Whumpee D responded first. ‘What the actual fuck? This has to be a sick prank or something’
Whumpee C: ‘I think I’m gonna be sick’
D: ‘I’m calling the police, I think you guys should too’
B: ‘Whumpee, you should block them.’
D: Yeah
‘Doing that now.’
They went to the account, when they saw the newest update from seconds ago. Their blood ran cold.
It was a picture of them in their current position, taken from a crack in the door that they didn’t realize was open.
They hadn’t gotten the chance to close out of the post before it swung open.
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irrelevantwriter · 4 years
Text
Acts of Service
Pairing: Negan x Female Reader/You
Rating: Explicit, NSFW
Warnings: Language, Daddy kink, mentions of bodily fluids, oral sex (female and male receiving), titty fucking (is there a nicer term?), vaginal fingering, Negan and his big dick energy
Word Count: 4K
Summary: Part 2. We continue on our quest through all that foreplay has to offer with some enthusiastic acts of service.
A/N: Soooooooo, I felt like adding another part to The Art of Foreplay. If you haven’t read it, you definitely don’t have to but also you should could. I’m really into the idea of exploring foreplay with Negan and a wife who’s insistent on not sleeping with him. It’s kinda refreshing to not write the actual act of sex and I’m having a lot of fun thinking of all the ways I can expand on this. I hope you guys are down with it and like it. If so, maybe I’ll add more parts in the future. And I definitely have to give a shout out and thank you to @negans-lucille-tblr​ bc without her foreplay challenge, this idea would not exist so thanks girl! Feedback is that good shit. Enjoy and share with your friends!
A/N dos: Also, latex/patent lingerie is a thing. I got some interesting results when I googled it. Lots of latex suits lol. 
*Check out part one: The Art of Foreplay 
*Check out part three: Pillow Talk
*Foreplay series masterlist
*Masterlist in bio.
**********************
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“You rang?”
You announced yourself as you entered Negan’s quarters without knocking. He was expecting you, though his summons had come nearly an hour earlier. You knew he’d be displeased with your tardiness, but you had good reason…at least you thought you did.
“Fucking finally…”
Your eyes found him seated on his couch, his body the picture of relaxation. He was holding a glass tumbler filled with an amber liquid, his long arms stretched along the back of the couch. His leather jacket was discarded near him, the stretch of his white t-shirt showcasing the broadness of his chest and shoulders. His hair was slicked back, his tongue licking his lips as he eyed you. There was a mix of disapproval and lust reflecting in the orbs, the intensity of it making you shiver.
He looked dangerous. He looked like all the things your parents had warned you about. He was a fire burning out of control. A tornado destroying everything in its wake. A tsunami flattening the earth. He was a natural disaster. A whirlwind of disorder and menace.
And you were jumping headfirst into the chaos.
“What the fuck took you so long?” He asked with an obvious annoyed tone. His eyes traced your form as you stepped closer, the appreciation of your feminine form still present despite his irritation. The black dress your wore accentuated your curves, inviting him to visually consume you. He didn’t disappoint.
“I was getting ready for you, my dear husband.” You responded with a coquettish smile, coming to a halt between his widely spread thighs. You fluttered your made-up eyes down at him, licked at your painted lips as his expression started to soften. A grin began to split his lips, the whites of his teeth a stark contrast to the golden shade of his skin.
Negan chuckled, bringing the glass still clasped in his hand to his lips. You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. His gaze never wavered from you, watching you watching him. It made you feel exposed.
“Finally gonna let me fuck that pussy out of commission?” He taunted, the roughness of his voice settling like hot lava between your thighs.
“Not yet.” You replied with a shake of your head, your feet unconsciously shifting you closer to his body.
He caught the movement, a smirk breaking out onto his face. He leant forward slightly as his free hand glided up your exposed leg and thigh, stopping at the hem of your dress. His fingers gripped the flesh, edging upwards under the fabric. His touch felt like an electric shock, his hand instantly searing your skin. You didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to deny him. The temptation of giving yourself completely to such a man no longer felt reckless. Instead, it felt instinctual; as if your need for him was now embedded into your DNA.
“But,” You started, voice regaining its composure as he continued to trail his fingers under your dress. “I do have a surprise for you.”
His eyes danced with amusement, his devilish tongue sliding along his lips. “I do love surprises.”
You turned your back to him, forcing his hand to separate from your thigh. You glanced at him from over your shoulder, gesturing to the long silver zipper that held the fabric of your dress together.
“Help me out?”
“Fucking gladly, doll.” He said with all the boyish glee of a kid on Christmas morning. He shifted forward and began to release the metal teeth, revealing your back and the undergarments you wore.
Once he was done, you turned back around to face him, the dress now dangling precariously off your body. You pulled your arms out of the sleeves, maintaining eye contact with Negan as you did. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as the material caught on your hips before you shimmied and let the fabric fall in a heap at your feet. You kicked it away, your arms slightly outstretched to keep your balance on the heels you wore.
“Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw…” Negan rasped, his body once again sunken into the cushions of the couch. The position allowed him to take you in all at once, to admire his gift in all its glory.
You forced yourself to stay still as his eyes burned over every inch of your body, the rapid breaths of his chest giving him away. You were half-naked, your breasts encased by a black latex bralette while your lower half was barely concealed by a matching pair of latex panties. The set was one you’d found hidden among the scraps of lace and silk Negan had brought back for the wives. The glint of the shiny fabric had immediately caught your eye and you’d snatched it before anyone could notice. The outfit obviously belonged amongst a selection of whips and chains, the insinuation clear. You weren’t necessarily looking to dominate your husband, but you were interested in being different…special. You wanted to stand out from the others. You wanted to capture Negan’s attention and hold it. And so far you’d been successful.
“What do you think?” You purred, aware that the question wasn’t needed. The shift in Negan’s hips was the answer.
He licked his lips again, rubbing at the shadowing of hair that covered his jaw. The strands were peppered with hints of grey, matching the hair at his temples. It was one of your favorite features. He wore the proof of age well, the fines lines and grey hairs a testament to the life he’d lived. And with that came experience. Experience that he loved to showcase for you.
“My dick is hard enough to crack skulls.”
His words made your body tingle, your heartbeat now centered within your throbbing pussy. Negan had that ability. He could get you to the very edge with just his words. Any filthy thing that crossed his mind, he said it. It was refreshing and overwhelmingly effective.
“I thought you might like it.” You said as you let your hands cradle your heaving breasts. They were pushed high up on your chest by the restricting latex, creating the best cleavage you’d ever had. Predictably, Negan’s hungry gaze followed.
“The shit looks painted on your fucking body. How the fuck you get that shit on?” He asked in awe, his hand reaching out to run along the smooth fabric that shielded your pussy.
You jerked at the feeling of his fingers barely grazing your lips. Even though the sensation was muted by the material between you, it still carried the weight of desire.
“Took forever. Hence my late arrival.” You whispered as he continued to dance his fingers along your body, the calloused digits forcing goosebumps to rise on your flesh. You gripped his shoulders as he straightened, his glass now abandoned on the couch cushion next to him. His mouth hovered over your stomach, his hot breaths panting in an erratic pattern. You could feel the ghosting of his lips as they painted your skin with kisses, his hands freely roaming your ass.
“You are one good fucking girl, aren’t you baby?” He questioned against your stomach, eyes centered up and on you.
Your thighs twitched and clasped together, effectively cutting off his wandering touch. Your nipples pebbled against the bralette, your back arching imperceptibly towards the air. Your walls flooded at his praise, overcome with his approval of you. It was enough to make you pull away and shove gently at his chest.
“There’s more…” You said with a mischievous smile, your hand forcing him to lean back against the sofa. He went willingly, too intrigued by your words to fight you for control. You sank to your knees and you swore his smile grew ten times wider. His thighs parted to make room for you as you took every opportunity to rub your body against him.
“Fucking hell...You are a fucking vision on your knees for me.” He admired, a wayward hand rubbing at his now very hard cock through his pants.
You said nothing in response, but you felt it. Watching him palm himself made a whimper leave your lips, your chest inching closer to his crotch to seek out any form of friction you could get. He noticed your actions and laughed, his hand continuing to ease the ache of his cock.
“Those titties need me, doll?”
You nodded, unable to form words.
“Pull me out.” He instructed, his hand finally leaving his body to allow you to take over. You shifted forward, hands instantly going to his belt. You undid the button on his dark trousers, pulling the material down his hips with his underwear. You moved the clothing just enough so that his swollen cock was free. His flesh was warm and solid in your hands, the sight inducing a Pavlovian response within you. Your mouth salivated, your pussy thrummed as you bent forward and licked him from base to tip. A low groan filled the room as you did, the sound only fueling your lust.
You allowed your mouth to fill with saliva and suctioned the head of his cock lightly, coating him for your consumption. You let your mouth do most of the work for now, your hand holding him steady. You attacked his flesh like a rapid melting popsicle on a hot summer day. You were determined to savor every drop of him.
“Spit.” He commanded suddenly. You met his eyes as you conjured up enough liquid and did as he said, covering him. “Fuck.” He cursed, fingers dancing along your scalp. You could feel his restraint as he struggled not to choke you down onto him, letting you set your pace.
With the added lubrication, you were able to move easier and you used it to your advantage. Your mouth moved along his length, allowing him to hit the back of your throat and sit there. Mumbled curses and growls spurred you on as your hand began working in tandem with your mouth. You threw all caution to the wind, uncaring of how disheveled you might look with saliva coating your chin and mascara running down your cheeks. Your only concern was getting your husband off.
You remained unmoving as Negan’s hips began to thrust. He was gentle at first, barely moving, but now he assaulted your throat with a vengeance, his hand no longer practicing self-control. He kept you locked to him, your nose brushing against the hair that trailed from just below his navel. Tears erupted from your eyes as you struggled to breathe, but you didn’t pull away. You let him fuck your throat, let him desecrate your mouth in the way you knew he wanted to do to your pussy. The thought sent a new wave of arousal that settled in your panties.
“Goddamn, doll…” He groaned as he finally released your head and allowed you to take in air.
You swallowed away the spittle and sting of pain he’d left in his wake, though a line of saliva still kept you momentarily connected to him. You took in his spit soaked cock, the head an angry shade of red. The tip was dotted with a clear liquid, the saltiness lingering on your tongue. His hand was back to stroking himself, the flesh sliding easily against each other.
“You almost made me fucking cum.” He exclaimed with heavy breaths as he squeezed the base of his cock, his pupils blown out and masking his colorful irises.
You wiped at your chin and moved your hips against nothing, your desperation magnifying. You wanted so badly to cum, the persistent throbbing of your pussy a constant reminder. But you were far from done with Negan.
You wordlessly grasped his cock, shooing his own hand away. He watched in rapt fascination as you pulled the lower edge of the latex covering your breasts away from your body. With your free hand you slipped Negan’s cock easily beneath the hem and sheathed him right between your breasts. He was trapped between your flesh and the constricting fabric, but he obviously was in no hurry to remove himself.
“You gonna let me fuck those titties, baby?”
His voice was low and wanting, his excitement palpable. You met his gaze and nodded as you began to move your upper body. The extra lubrication aided your movements as you pushed your breasts together, squeezing his cock in a way that had him throwing his head back.
“Shit, that feels fucking amazing.” He groaned, his abdomen tensing with each stroke.
You moved slowly at first, finding a steady rhythm. His hips moved with you, sliding his cock between your breasts like he was sliding between your legs. You watched him, mesmerized by the way his pleasure held him prisoner. A man as powerful as Negan was rarely seen as vulnerable, yet you had the benefit of seeing him so undone, and it did more for you than you’d ever thought possible.
“Cum for me, Daddy…” You softly demanded. His wild eyes met yours and you took advantage, spitting on his cock again. You felt him twitch against your chest, the action having the desired effect.
“Fucking fuck. Can I cum on your titties?” He asked, the exertion clear in his voice.
“You can cum anywhere you want.” You said, a tender lilt coating your words. Your body never broke stride, continuing to take his cock while your hands held your breasts together. Precum was leaking from his tip, lubricating your movements as you increased your pace.
“Show me those gorgeous tits, baby…lemme see ‘em.” Negan grunted, the veins in his neck bulging with effort.  
You obeyed, pulling your arms from the straps and pushing the materiel down your torso so that it no longer wrapped around your breasts. You removed him from beneath the band of the bra, his flesh now freely bouncing over yours. You took a minute to tease him, letting the head of his cock rub sensuously at your nipples. Your body hummed with satisfaction at the way his jaw clenched and his knuckles gripped at the sofa beneath him. He was breathing through his nose, the rhythm almost sounding angry if not for the simple fact that his cock was wedged between your tits.
He was getting close. You could feel him tense, practically hear his teeth cracking with how hard he was biting down. You sped up your movements, your breasts bouncing against his cock in tight strokes. You played with your nipples as he stared down at you, danger of a different kind completely clouding his gaze.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”
You doubled your efforts and was immediately rewarded for it. Warm ropes of cum coated your chest and neck, the liquid landing with a heaviness that made your pussy clamp around itself. Negan grunted and groaned above you, head thrown back and hips stuttering as he released. You continued to move, milking him for all he was worth. His cock spasmed as his body tensed with orgasmic relief. His skin turned flush as a fine sheen of sweat broke out onto the surface. You slowed your touch when he hissed against the oversensitivity, his cock now going soft.
“Jesus fucking Christ, doll. Were you trying to fuck the life outta me?” He joked, his words interrupted by heavy panting.
You flashed a self-satisfied smirk while gently stroking his now flaccid cock. You felt his cum trailing down your chest in thick rivulets. You were still unsatisfied and brimming with need. Urged on by Negan’s heavy-lidded gaze, you grasped your breasts in your hands, rubbing his cum into your skin. He grunted in approval, the edge of his tongue peeking from the confines of his mouth.
“You need Daddy, don’t you baby?”
His voice washed over you like molasses, the sensual roughness of it only adding to the blaze burning inside of you. A strand of hair broke free from the rest as it rested against his forehead. That predatory stare was back in his eyes as he regarded your yearning for him. You moaned in response, a call to your lover.
He answered.
“Stand up.”
You climbed onto shaky feet, using his legs as support. You waited and watched as he slipped himself back into his pants, leaving the buttons undone. He scooted to the edge of the couch, his face now even with the place that ached the most. His hands wasted no time as they gripped the edge of your panties and pulled. The material made it difficult to do so, but Negan’s strength was no match for yours and he was able to relieve you of the latex far quicker than you’d been able to dress in them. You went to step out of your heels, but he gave a firm shake of his head, silently expressing not to.
“On the bed. Face down and pussy skyward.” He ordered gruffly, gesturing to the majestic piece of furniture he referred to as his bed. The mattress was settled high onto a wooden frame, grey and black sheets covering the soft pillow beneath.
You did as he said, crawling onto the bed and arching your back so that your face was pressed against the Egyptian cotton sheets. The mess on your chest transferred to the fabric beneath you and you delighted in the small fact that you were staining his pristine bed. You listened closely, knowing better than to look over your shoulder. His footsteps were muted against the rug, but you could feel his presence at your back. You were perched near the edge of the bed, easily accessible for what you knew was about to come next.
“This pussy really needs a Daddy’s touch, baby…” He breathed against your soaked sex, his fingers tracing the outer edges of your lips. “You sure you don’t want my cock instead?”
You angled your hips closer to him, begging for a reprieve after being so good to him. You were just about to plead for mercy when his tongue assaulted your pussy with one long swipe. You tried not to flinch away from the onslaught of pleasure, clutching the bedding beneath you with a grip that mirrored Negan’s only moments before.
“Shit,” You moaned as his hands gripped your ass, positioning you perfectly on his waiting mouth. He spread you so that you were on display and accessible, his hot breath tickling your thighs.
“You didn’t answer my question, doll.”
You struggled to remember what he’d asked, his tongue slowly torturing you by tracing your swollen lips but never penetrating beyond that point. You whimpered, trying to shift yourself closer to his warmth.
“Please, Negan…” You unabashedly begged, ready to be put out of your misery.
“Wrong.”
A fierce slap reverberated from your pussy, forcing a yelp from your parted lips. You jerked away but heavy hands kept you in place.
“Daddy!” You amended, hoping he was in a forgiving mood.
A gentle touch rubbed at your opening, easing the sting that had settled between your thighs. The strike had hurt more so than usual because of the moisture that coated your flesh. Your tensed muscles eased some as he lazily teased your clit, a long finger barely entering you.
“That’s better. Relax for Daddy and lemme take care of you.” He soothed.
You submitted and eased the hold your fists had on the blankets. You felt him drag you closer, opening you up for his attack. You waited with baited breath until his tongue pierced you. You gasped as he devoured you from behind, his finger still rubbing at your clit. His entire mouth encased you, his tongue dragging along your soaked walls. You struggled to stay put as he tasted every inch of you, his tongue useful for more than just witty quips and inappropriate humor.
“I’m close.” You moaned as he moved faster and harder, the tendrils of ecstasy beginning to pull you under. You didn’t need much. Pleasuring Negan like you did had set you on a face track for climax before he’d ever even touched you.
Your muscles burned with unreleased tension, your pussy struggling to clench down on Negan’s tongue. The sound of his lips sloppily drinking from your body filled the room as it threatened to send you over the edge.
“Cum for me. Cum for Daddy.”
Two fingers filled you unexpectedly, forcing your pussy to accommodate. You arched your back against the sensations, feeling the sweet burn begin to make its way up from the tips of your toes. Stars danced behind your tightly shut eyes as your entire body tremored against Negan’s rapidly moving fingers. Your walls squeezed around the appendages, flooding them with your release. You could vaguely hear the appreciative curses from your husband as your body succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure it’d been victim to.
“Oh, god…” You moaned as your high began to settle. The lustful fog was still thick, but you began to come back into your body, your exhaustion now taking over. Your face was still pressed against the bed, your lower half still sitting high. Negan’s hands were caressing your ass, his fingers trailing in the slickness that now coated your thighs.
“I cannot wait to have this tight cunt wrapped around me.” He emphasized his statement with a palm to your thoroughly ravaged pussy, his hand rubbing through your folds with lazy strokes.
You pulled away, too sensitive to have him touching you with such force. “Don’t.” You whimpered.
He released you, but your reprieve was short-lived. He turned you onto your back, your lethargic body unable to fight against his. Your legs were kept spread by his body between them, the grin on his lips almost wide enough to split his face. He appraised your supple form, taking note of the drying tracks of him still marring your chest. His hands grasped your breasts, touching with careful precision. You could feel him watching your face, waiting for you to push him away. But you didn’t.
“You’re gorgeous.” He admitted, new flames of desire roaring to life in his eyes.
“And you’re full of shit.” You teased, your legs trapping his fully clothed body against your nude one.
“I never lie about post-coitus glows, doll.” Negan said with a wink, a finger tracing your nipple.
You outwardly laughed at his words, choosing to ignore the spark his touch induced. “Good to know.”
He eyed you for a long moment, long enough to make you feel self-conscious. You would’ve thought he was trying to read your thoughts, but the smirk he wore said something else. There was a reverence to his gaze, as if he was in astonishment of your existence. That’s what you needed from him. You were more than one amongst five in a harem. Negan was starting to see that too.
“Give Daddy some sugar.” He ordered with a finger tapping his bearded lips.
You let out a girlish giggle, but took the hand he offered so that you could sit upright. You met him in a kiss, the action far from gentle and fueled by passion. Tongues tasted the other, teeth clashed as your lips moved in sync with the other. Your hands ran through his hair while his settled at your hips, running the length of your back.
You both pulled away when air became an issue, the look of satiation surely reflecting in both of your faces. Negan ran a thumb under your eye, no doubt attempting to clean the smeared mascara that had settled there.
“You know, for not getting pounded by my dick, you sure fucking look like you did.” Negan teased with a chuckle as he cradled your face in his hands.
“Gee, thanks.” You retorted flatly, aware that his words were very true. You were sure you looked a complete mess…a gorgeous mess in Negan’s eyes.  
“Let’s get you cleaned up, doll.”
He helped you off the bed, leading you to his bathroom. You ditched your heels as you walked with him, aware that the longer you did this with him, the harder it was going to be to deny him each time. More time spent with Negan meant more time for temptation that you were positive you wanted. You’d been ready to sleep with him, but having him consume you in every other way but fucking you made it all the more sweeter. And soon enough you knew you’d break.
It was only a matter of time.
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wallyaxiom · 3 years
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𝚆𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴: 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙴 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝚂
hey besties it’s me coming to do the waltmeme thing. I couldn’t just pick one character to call my favorite. it also felt unfair to do that as well when there’s so many amazing characters here. so grab a snack, put on your favorite tangled song in my honor and buckle up as i go through the list of my fave characters here at walt each person plays. present gen only. sorry to my next gen faves. maybe one day i’ll write a list for you. or not. i’ll keep you on your toes. 
𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕒 𝕛𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕣
cassandra is a character i love so much. tangled is a movie that means everything to me. kiara is the person who understands my tangled feels. the way you play cassandra...like how you said i have a grasp on reagan, you have such a perfect grasp on who cassandra is as a character. her voice is so clear. you understand who the character is and have transformed her into something more than what was given in the bio i wrote and also in the show that’s used for inspo. she’s a spectacular character and i love her so much. it’s an honor to be one half of elssandra but also cassunzel. she’s such an amazing character. you should be so proud of what you’ve brought to life, kiara.
𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕔𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟
listen i told you every day how much i love monty. i literally scream it to you in your living room sometimes. i’ve seen every iteration of monty but i think this one is my favorite. i didn’t even know lightning’s real name was montgomery that was all you. so much of yourself is in monty. it reminds me of myself with wally and i think that’s the biggest reason why i love monty is because he’s bits and pieces of you and i love you very much. as much as i love cocky era lightning i love dad lightning even more. i wish i had a dad like him i’m not gonna lie but we’re not gonna unpack that on the man lmfao. i’m glad i’m more enveloped in his story now because he’s such a good character dude. like such a good written and played character. he’s second in my heart to sulley but is inching closer to number one by the day. 
𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕚
fran !!! my bestie !!! my fave !!! i would die for them !!! like bee, i love talking to you about fran and all the tomfoolery they get into. you’ve played them for so long and each time you transform them into something better than the last. they age like a fine wine. in the past almost two years i’ve been able to be part of their story more & i’m so happy for that opportunity. you’ve put so much love, care and devotion into fran. you’ve added so much to their story. like they’re so fleshed out, how does your beautiful brain come up with all this backstory ??? lemme know i need some of those brain cells. they’re amazing. you’re amazing. i want fran to buy me and island and make me pasta but i’ll just them do that for caspian the favorite child. 
𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕨
hands down i had to put orion my future father in law. i’ve had the honor of watching you develop orion into something incredible over these past six years. ( holy cow !!! six ??? insane. ily ). he was a big bad, misunderstood boy and you’ve humanized orion. you’ve brought life into him and created such a beautifully crafted character. he has a heart now. perhaps a tiny one but it’s there. the backstory you’ve created for him and the future he has - all stunning and wonderful. i love this man. he deserves so much after the shit he’s been through. i’ve had the privilege of being in his orbit for a bit when i played logan. I still get to watch him and enjoy the light chaos he brings. i’m ready for the new era of casino owner orion and what trouble he’ll bring now. 
𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕪 𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕤
the boy !!! the legend !!! i love shaggy so much. first of all, the future you planned for him. how dare you ?? do you like to see me cry ?? is that it ??? i’m glad he hit his happy arc now because WOW. pain. shaggy is just a nice guy, man. he’s so nice to everyone he meets. i want to be friends with shaggy and scoob. i love mystery inc. i can’t imagine anyone else playing shaggy but you. to me, you are him. he’s the heart of the group. it’s not mystery inc without him. therefore, you’re the heart also. it’s not the same without you. 
𝕤𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕦𝕖
i could easily write an essay about how i love all your characters and how you play them all so well but i had to give this spot to sadie. the teagues are my og loves. every time i see sadie the part of my brain where logan resides lights up. she’s such a good character. she’s a little devil and it’s exactly what we need. we need someone to stir up the pot and throw eggs at kids. sadie is a product of her environment. she’s so tough and had to be so young. no one her age should have to grow up so fast the way she did. i would like to wrap sadie in a blanket give her some coco with bat marshmallows and tell her to take a break. hug her. maybe give her some therapy to. i love her. you’ve brought her to life in such an amazing way. i hope her brothers join her soon so we can have that sibling goodness. 
𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕒 𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕒
i was tempted to put ian here because ian lightfoot is joel and we already know how much i love al and wendy but i decided to show the og love so i put nala. from the get go you knew who nala was going to be and where you wanted to go with her. you always bring so much to your characters. you develop them in ways that amazes me each time. go bestie go you’re so talented. i love how devoted she. how fierce she is but also the vulnerability you bring to her. she was thrown into a world at a young age fighting a war she wasn’t meant to and THAT’S a lot on someone. and we see that. i love the way you play her and i’m so happy you decided to take her up. sorry you have to deal with simba tho. pour one out. 
𝕘𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕩𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙
everyone and their grandmother knows the oliver and co cast means everything to me. i’m so glad that you decided to join them ! you’re a wonderful addition. i love miss george. she’s fabulous in every sense of the word. sharpay evans is shaking in her lil boots. i just love divas. i love them. i am one. she’s perfect. and we know that’s not easy for her. i know your beautiful mind works wonders so i know there’s a lot of growing that georgette will be going through in the future and i’m excited for it. prayer circle for a jenny and oliver. 
𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕩
when you auditioned for thackery you already had an idea of where you wanted to take him and how you wanted to add to his character while staying true to the bio. that is the kind of stuff i like to see. this man has seen some shit and also has been through some shit. i do hope one day his soul can be at ease. he needs a long cat nap. you care a lot for thackery and it’s lovely to see. he may be a hamilton hoe but we have to respect the drip & love him for it anyways. 
𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣
timmy boy deserves a hug. a hug and a nice space movie to take the edge off. you always put so much of your heart and yourself into your characters. you care so much for them and that’s evident in buzz. he’s goofy, he’s cool and he’s just so wonderful. i’m excited to see where buzz will go from here and how he’ll develop over time. i’m hoping some happiness. maybe some resolution with woodrow just to spice things up. that metal arm is still cool too. 
𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕟𝕖 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕜𝕖
hey bestie !!! wow !!! daphne ??? gives me so much pain. I am so glad to be going on this angst journey of mystery inc and fred/daph with you. your love for her and the gang makes my heart so happy. i will happily spend hours talking about them and sending tiktoks to each other that remind us of them. you went beyond the assignment. you were just born to play daphne. you write her so well and understand her past the bio, past the inspirations of the live actions and mystery inc. you get her. you see her. she’s in good hands. i’m ready for all the pain she’s about to cause me. 
𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖
i love penelope. i really do. i am penelope’s number one stan. it was discussed before but it’s so easy to play miss piggy as unlikeable since she is such a brash character but you bring so much light and love to penny. it’s hard not to be in love with her and want her to succeed in everything she does. she’s the miss piggy we all grew up with but she’s also special because you’ve added your own personal touches to her. she’s an amazing character. i would punch anyone who’s wronged penelope. i’m excited for the layers to start peeling back and we see more of penny - especially her badass ways. i just love the way you play her and i love penelope hainline okay. i lovoe divas as stated above what can i say. 
𝕒𝕦𝕣𝕠𝕣𝕒 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕥
ANNIE !!!! WOW AURORA ??? genuinely she is the love of my life. I love her so, so much. she’s so sweet and wonderful and deserve to be tucked in ??? read a bed time story ??? and not be cursed ??? why’d i do that. she deserves the world and so do you. in the short amount of time you’ve had her you’ve added so much depth to her story. which is not always easy the first few months you have a character but you’ve put in a lot of love into aurora already. you understood the assignment and & went beyond.  i’m so excited to see where she goes on her journey and what will happen when he hopefully get a maleficent one day. also is it an aurora shoutout without me saying philip loves her ??? bc he does. 
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denkimystery · 3 years
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Denki Mystery: Six Idol Statues of Taboo - Chapter 5
ー Cafe New York, Noon.
Hajime: The name of this cafe is "New York" because the name of the place is "Iriyabi"? That's interesting.*
Takashi: Aah, I wonder if that's really it!? I just thought that the previous owner wanted to use katakana. Come to think of it, I never really thought about it that much.
Hajime: Your dad… You said he already passed away.
Takashi: Yes. Papa doesn't look like me at all, so I thought he wasn't related to me by blood, but...
[[Takashi picks up a framed photo by the counter.]]
Takashi: Here's a picture.
Hajime: Eh? ... This. This is... your father's picture? But this is… my father...? What does this mean?
Kling♪ Kling♪ [[Guests enter the cafe, the wind chimes by the door filling the empty space. Takashi sets down the framed photo and directs his attention to the newcomers.]]
Takashi: Ah, we're closed for the day…
[[Hajime eyes hover over the guests, one of them attracting his attention.]]
Hajime: That paper bag… from earlier?
Ozo: Eh~!? You know, there aren't any other stores nearbyyy~!? You're gonna kick us out under the scorching hot sun!?
Karatsugu: I'm sure you have your reasons. But please, let us have some iced coffee.
[[Takashi's face goes blank for a second before a cheery demeanor overtakes it.]]
Takashi: Three iced coffees, right? Wait for a moment please~.*
[Takashi heads off to prepare their drink.]
Ozo: Phew, my first time here but the staff aren't very friendly huh? Oh well, whatever, ah~! Cool, paradise, paradise~!
[[Takashi comes back, holding the drinks in his tray.]]
Takashi: Here you go.
Tap. [[He starts serving the newcomers their drinks.]]
Karatsugu: Heh, this drink is… Delicious? A special kind of cafe in the sticks! This is an article for a magazine…!
Takashi: This is just a pack of iced coffee I got from the grocery. "Sorry!?"... or something like that…
[[The trio settles down by the barstool, taking their time drinking their iced coffee.]]
Ozo: Phew, let's see, what was it again? Ah right. The story right?
[[Ozo sets his mug down.]]
Ozo: A long time ago, a lot of the villages around here had the surnames, "Matsuno"***.
[[Hajime's curiosity had been piqued.]]
Hajime: In the past, there was a massacre in this area to eradicate "Matsuno"***... Are you talking about the story of that genocide?
Takashi: I've heard that even now, if you dig around here, you can still find bones… or so I've heard…
Toshio: Yup, that's true~. You can find bones all over the place, like around my house. Ah, by the way, we had somewhere to go, didn't we?
Ozo: Ah, that's right! Come to think of it, I never asked you for your destination! Bwahaha! Add vanilla ice cream to my order!
Karatsugu: I heard that a young flower arranger is following in the footsteps of his father, who was infamous as a heretic in the flower arrangement society, and I thought this would be a good article, right? Heh!
Takashi: … Huh? Who would that be? Do you know? 
Ozo: Nope~? I've never heard of such a thing? Isn't that just bullcrap?
Karatsugu: … Eh!? None of the locals know? O-oh no, I'm starting to get worried all of a sudden… He's from the Midorito family…
Takashi: Ahh!! There is, there is. The Midorito House. Did they do flower arranging? Flower arrangement… flowers****?
Ozo: Now that you mention it... I think that a clerk at my company, Iyami-san, is taking lessons on that? Anyway, why that topic?
Karatsugu: I got a call at the company about flower arrangement…
Hajime: That was probably just a sales pitch.
[The sun has started to set, painting the clear blue sky with an orange hue.]
Hajime: More importantly… Haven't you guys noticed? The four of us here, we all have the same face.
Ozo: Hmmm? … Now that you mention it? Ah~! You look like the guy from the thousand-dollar bill*****! I thought I'd seen you before!
Takashi: Isn't that because of the hair and not his face!? Also nope, it's five of us. Take off your paper bag, I'm not scared anymore. Long time, no see.
Rustling. [[Toshio takes the hamburger paper bag off. His face now visible to everyone in the room.]]
Toshio: ... Ah. It's cool~. Long time no see. Totty.
Karatsugu: Ah…!
Takashi: When I say I saw a guy who looks just like me before, I mean this Jyushimatsu-kun over here.
ー Midorito House
The sounds of crickets can be heard. Footsteps break the silence and someone speaks.
A Voice: What is it? ... Dayoko… a call for your big bwother******? I understand. You can go back now.
Chorosuke: … Yes. That is me. I am Chorosuke Midorito.
Chorosuke: … by all means, You are welcome to come and stay. There isn't any other place to stay after all.
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11
Mode note: theres a segment here that's supposed to sound like banter between brothers lmao but the topic of the convo is something that doesnt translate well 😔
*the name of the place is 入浴 pronounced いりあび, "iriyabi", which uses the same kanji for the word bathing in japanese but is pronounced にゅうよく(in hiragana), nyuyoku, hence Cafe New York, ニューヨーク(in katakana). 
**Takashi uses a bit of cutesy/polite talk here like desu and kudasa~i. Think like totty's sutabaa attitude, customer service.
*** Ozo uses the katakana spelling for Matsuno this time. Last episode he used the actual kanji for matsu. Hajime on the other hand consistently uses the katakana spelling since episode two.
**** The word for flower arrangement and flowers are different. Takashi is trying to remember what was being arranged.
***** Ozo is pointing out that Hajime looks like the portrait of Hideyo Noguchi from the 1,000¥ bill, lmao.
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****** Chorosuke uses a baby term for brother to refer to himself. Ani-chama,,, i finally understand why there's rising in his bio now.
38 notes · View notes
miraculouscontent · 3 years
Text
Askplosion #12 4/4:
(I would like to state for future reference that, while I do not mind long/multi-part asks, if you’d like to engage in actual discussion with me over a non-Miraculous topic, my DMs - Tumblr Messenger - should be open; I lost pieces of three multi-part asks this time just due to Tumblr not sending the remaining part(s) so yeah, I just wanted to make that clear)
(like, this askplosion ended up being super long because of this section and that’s not really what I want to have going on since I’m supposed to be a primarily Miraculous blog; I don’t want to have to stop answering non-Miraculous related asks but I might have to if this keeps up:)
.:New non-Miraculous Asks:.
Anonymous said:
What are your experiences with some really rude anons?
It’s partly my fault when it happens. Like I’ve said before, I’m an aspie, and part of what that means is I struggle to understand situations emotionally. I can come off as insensitive or read the mood wrong which often leads to people misunderstanding my intentions or where I’m coming from.
More often than not, what I’m saying will make 100% sense to me but not the person/people reading it. I also stick a lot more firmly to my opinions than I should because people tell me I fold too easily, and I come off as more egotistical than I actually am to cover up my low self-esteem lol.
So yeah, can’t think of any experience in particular but sometimes it might be my fault? At least I suspect that it is?
Anonymous said:
“Killed by kindness” makes me think of an assassin who kills people by giving hugs and compliments to people and the occasion gift that isn’t tampered until thre target does like Conrad Birdie making women swoon into fainting by singing.
omg
yes
Anonymous said:
You're watching Yashahime right now? rip
MARINETTE TAKE 2 MOROHA DESERVES BETTER
SETSUNA HAS SO LITTLE REASON TO HANG OUT WITH THE OTHER TWO GIRLS
IF I SEE ANOTHER DEUS EX TOWA I’M GONNA KICK SOMETHING
(so yes, I’m watching Yashahime)
Anonymous said:
Since someone recommended Remarried Empress, I would like to recommend my own webcomic: Princess Love-Pon! It's about a young girl named Lia Sagamore who becomes the titular magical girl and purifies people's hearts when they're tainted by the Dark Queen! It's really cool due to its diversity, the main character is black and her best friend is Afro-Latina, the villain and her prince son are also black, and there's a Japanese girl, a black guy, and an Indian girl. Plus, loads of pink and frills!
Thank you very much, though I actually don’t take recommendations, even from close friends. The Remarried Empress anon wasn’t a recommendation; they were more pointing something out to me and then I went to confirm.
Anonymous said:
Unrelated to MLB: Which Pokémon are your favourites?
I used a “Favorite Pokemon Picker” because I prefer going by generations to pick favorites and that was the easiest way of going about it. I struggle picking super favorites so here’s what I got form each generation! (my only rule was “one Pokemon per evolution line” with an exception of the Eevee line since they’re different types, and also Alolan/Galarian forms)
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(note: the blue-patterned Vivillon is my favorite and I honestly don’t like Charizard normally but the Y version actually slims him down and gives him the wings I feel he should have; it’s an improvement of the design so it gets my seal of approval, I don’t like the X version at all)
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(lol I was looking through this after I was done and find it really funny how it’s like, 50% cute things and then the other 50% is just EDGY, there’s very little in-between with me I guess)
Anonymous said:
Bridgerton the Series: Yay or nay? Sorry if you haven’t seen it or it’s not your thing. I was just curious.
Never seen it, though when I brought up to someone, they didn’t recommend it to me at all ahaha.
Anonymous said:
I previously kept having this argument about The Bechdel Test with someone. She keeps insisting that the test is invalid because there's nothing wrong with talking about men and that it was created for lesbians only, and not for feminists, with the implication that being a lesbian somehow means that you dislike men or want them gone. And she also thinks the test is about NEVER talking about men, rather than merely occasionally talking about other things. I keep telling her otherwise, but...
jdfhkgdfhjgdfg “lesbians only”
now all I can imagine is “lesbians only” sections at restaurants and such
Anonymous said:
Have you ever played Akinator, with or without the Miraculous Ladybug characters? Because I played it with Ochaco from MHA and Marinette and he guessed them within a second(can your character control gravity? Is your character a protagonist?). I even played it with myself as the "character" and he guessed "your shadow" lol. How about you?
I’ve played Akinator before but I don’t specifically remember what I was searching for lol.
Anonymous said:
The cast for the newest Power Rangers series got revealed, and I hate that as soon as I saw the Pink Ranger's bio mentioned she was an internet journalist, I thought of Alya. I really hope she doesn't have the same problems as Alya in the series proper.
fhgdfkgd journalists have been ruined for us forever
Anonymous said:
Have you noticed that in many shows, especially shonen shows, people tend to hate the most "feminine" female character? Like, in Naruto it was Sakura, in Death Note it was Misa, in My Hero Academia it was Ochaco(although a lot of people like her so I'm not so sure about that last one?). The most hated character in one too many a shonen is almost always the "girliest" of the characters. They're always claimed to be useless or reliant on a man. And this is within the fandom who should know better!
It probably didn’t help with Sakura that she was decked out in pink hair; that’s an instant girl label for you (or lesbian label, depends on the person :P).
I don’t think I’ve been in enough fandoms to have such an experience but I definitely see where you’re coming from.
Anonymous said:
Rewatching Chat Blanc and Here To Help from Star vs. and hearing Adrien/Marco tell Marinette/Star that they always liked the girls from the beginning makes me so pissed. It's not that I don't ship Starco(I do! But I also like MarcoxJanna), although I don't ship the love square, but I'm so annoyed with writers finding the need to make the audience "know" that the main ship's characters "always" liked each other, as if that makes their love for each other more true, even if it's obvious they had other crushes? Like, what happened to Kagami Tsurugi? Jackie-Lynn Thomas?
News flash: Teenagers are allowed to have crushes on multiple other people before they find "the One". It doesn't mean their love for that "One" is any less valid. And if you still want to pull the "they always liked each other since they first met", at least make it actually TRUE!!! Don't have them have crushes on other people before moving on to the "official" crush and be all like "Oh, by the way, I liked you from the start," when it's dead obvious they didn't. You're doing a disservice to the romantic "false" leads.
I'm willing to forgive Star's crush on Oskar and Tom since she's not the one claiming she always liked Marco(even though she fell in love with him LONG before he fell in love with her, which is a nice turn of events), although her "love" for Oskar was merely an infatuation at most and I personally don't see why it was needed. Why don't they just say that their old crush didn't do it for them???
UGH, I remember watching that show and being so annoyed because I really liked Marco and Jackie and wanted them to be a thing but I knew that they’d pull Starco in the end because of course they would.
It also totally makes it seem as if love is the most powerful relationship there is (aros would like a word), which is so bizarre when there are so many “power of friendship” tropes. Like, a male and female lead have to get together because their relationship is the strongest.
The love square would hold so much more meaning to me without this love drama nonsense. It’s tiring.
Anonymous said:
Have you seen Yuki Yuna Is a Hero? If so, then what are your thoughts on it? I was thinking of watching it but it seems to be another "taking away the empowerment of the magical girl genre by making the girls suffer instead" type story. I read about it on TV Tropes and apparently it's a deconstruction that takes after Madoka Magica which already puts a bad taste in my mouth, but then I got to the examples and they're basically about how girls who get magical powers lose their body parts one by one and that the reason only girls can be heroes is because "young girls have always been sacrifices".
Not to mention it was written by a man and aimed towards a seinen(adult men ages 17-35) demographic, making it torture porn for adult men. Also, both the laconic page for Yuki Yuna and Madoka Magica say "Being a magical girl sucks."(though for Yuki Yuna it adds "Unless you have the power of friendship.") and to be honest that kills any desire in me to watch the show. Should I give it a chance?
Oof.
Yeah, after bringing it up to a friend of mine, it was instantly recommended of me not to watch it, so I’d say, “no.”
Anonymous said:
Let's make one thing perfectly clear. I, love, love, LOVE Sailor Moon. And I love the transformations, too. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's that their outfits all look pretty much the same but with different colors/different lengths of gloves and shoes and stuff like that, and that they all have the exact same body type save for the one fat girl who's made to look bad. I don't like Madoka Magica, but at least they all had unique/different costumes(but they still have similar bodies).
We’re not allowed diversity here. Take your different body types to a show that cares; we’re all about femininity here and how girls can be beautiful and powerful no matter wha--oh wait...
Yeah, I don’t care for the design in Sailor Moon, but that’s because skirts don’t interest me design-wise unless it’s really unique/interesting.
(note that there’s a lot of talk about tomboys, sexism, and TV tropes and such below, and then Madoka Magica after that; that’s basically the rest of this askplosion:)
Anonymous said:
I just saw the thumbnail for a video called "Why You Should Watch Princess Tutu(Yes, I Know The Name Is Stupid)". Umm, why is it stupid exactly? Because it's "girly"? What is with people thinking that in order for a girly show to be good they have to first separate the show from its girliness in order to enjoy it? It's like how men will say a show is good despite it being girly, or that since it's good it's no longer girly. Nobody does this for boy shows, because boy things are "never" stupid.
Princess = girly thing
Tutu = girly thing
girly things = bad
That’s the formula~ They should’ve called it something edgier and manly so that more people would be interested.
Anonymous said:
I'm wary of any woman or girl who says, "I'm a girl, but I'd rather read books about guys" or "I'm a female writer but I mostly write stories about male characters". I feel like those women are the "not like other girls/one of the guys" type who suffer from internalized misogyny and don't like female characters. I also feel like they're the type to not care about female representation, because in their minds, girls shouldn't care about female role models. We can enjoy males just as much! I do!
To be fair, they might also just be writing about shirtless men doing “handsome” things. ;P
But nah, I see your point. Me personally, I try to find a balance of writing both, but I do think there can be bias.
Anonymous said:
Do you think it's okay to like a ship but acknowledge that it wouldn't be safe or healthy or condonable in real life? Because I was just thinking of how a lot of people like some really "toxic" ships like Veronica/JD in Heathers, Yuno/Yukki in Future Diary, Madoka/Homura in Madoka Magica(although some people don't like it because of its toxicity/like it but don't realize it's toxic), almost any villain/hero ship, the list goes on. But they're aware of the fact that it's not a good standard for healthy relationships in real life.
An alternative I've seen is people having a crush on "dangerous" characters like JD and Yuno, or Karma from Assassination Classroom(there's not a single video on YouTube with him in it that DOESN'T have comments full of people saying they want Karma to father their children), but still being aware of the fact that the character is a) not real and b) wouldn't be a good partner if they were real(and that's assuming they even want to be with you. But sometimes there's a good reason for falling in love with a "toxic/dangerous" character.
Take Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club! She's obsessed with the player(not the player CHARACTER, the flesh and blood player themselves) to the point of killing off all the other girls and "trapping" you in a room with her where she talks endlessly about lots of things. But she's actually a lonely girl who's driven insane by the fact that nothing around her is real. She latches on to you because you're the only other person who's real and sapient and has got a mind of their own. You're literally her outlet to the outside world.
She's personally my favorite character in the game due to her actually being a more fleshed out, sympathetic(and not in the idealized "moemoe" way), and realistic take on the Yandere archetype(which, like many moe archetypes, is kinda misogynistic in nature in that it reinforces submissiveness; it's basically animes version of "woman scorned".). So it makes sense that people would sympathize with her and want her to become real, because all she's ever wanted was to be real and to talk to real people. Especially since she really did care about her friends and even returned them back to life because she saved their backup files, taking herself out of the picture.
I read a few "Monika becomes real and lives with you" fanfictions where she's really sweet and not at all crazy and cares for you a lot, and it's never felt the same as all those other "Yandere/psycho lives with you and is your girl/boyfriend" type stories precisely because those stories tend to just glorify possessive partners that kill your loved ones, drive your family members to commit suicide, and tear up your stuffed animals and dollies for the sake of it, rather than go into why they're so crazy for you, and often reinforce Stockholm Syndrome.
Plus, those "things" she talks about in the empty room? They're actually quite smart and make you think about the world for a bit. Not many "crazy" type characters actually get that. They're all about how "I'll slice your boyfriend open with an axe if you don't date me wa ha ha", and even if they're not, it's all the fandom will focus on, to the point of ignoring any and all other aspects to their character. Because that "crazy in love" aspect is the most appealing part of them. Maybe it's due to forbidden fruit/bad boy(or girl) appeal? Who knows? But I'm starting to wonder if it's still as bad if people recognize the problematic aspects of "crazy in love" characters or "dysfunctional" relationships.
Because if they recognize it's not real and don't really want it for themselves, then it's probably not much of a problem. But if they just go on wanting it to be real and never take a step back and go "wait a minute, this isn't real love; they're only together because he latches onto the first girl to show him any kindness and affection and she's a doormat who doesn't want something bad to happen if she leaves him", then that's bad.
Obviously it's not as bad as being in love with literal stalkers, killers, and rapists in real life(which is an actual thing, believe it or not, it's called hybristophilia), because fictional characters will never be real. Karma Akabane will never be real. Yuno Gasai will never be real. JD will never be real. But loving fictional characters who do those things and not realizing the problem with it may cause people to seek out real criminals, so it's best to separate fiction from reality.
I can’t help judging a little internally, but yeah, I think people can ship whatever as long as it has that “not in real life” scenario going for it. It’s ultimately fiction, so just because I don’t like it and/or think that it’s bad doesn’t mean other people can’t ship it.
Anonymous said:
I'm getting tired of all the racists on TV Tropes getting upset whenever a trope has a Japanese name. Whether it's Tsundere, Yandere, Meganekko, Genki Girl, Bokukko, or any Japanese anime name, people will complain that the trope exists beyond anime so it shouldn't have a "cute anime name", and that it should instead just be given a broader(read: English) name with the same meaning. Or that the site is too obsessed with anime. I'm just sick of people saying that anime names are bad.
The other thing is that we don’t actually have English words for certain things? I mean, the whole reason we say, “tsundere,” is because it says everything in one word. It’s easy.
(Also, people are aware the the English language isn’t some unique thing that takes no inspiration from other languages, right? It’s a mix of things, so accept that other languages exist because we literally wouldn’t have English without them.)
Anonymous said:
Have you seen the TV Tropes reviews for "My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic"? Holy crap, they are all a perfect example of the "Real Women Don't Wear Dresses" phenomenon that I have mentioned earlier and is so fucking present on this site. While some reviews praise the show for showing that "it's okay to be strong AND girly"(such as Hadles' review, which was really splendid), and that girl shows are no less good, others either insult the show by calling it "girly, saccharine, and stupid" as if "girly" is synonymous with anything bad about a show, or feel the need to distance it from its girliness in order to praise it as if a show can't be good if it's also girly.
Some people were saying things like "the show might seem girly at first, but it's actually a good, brilliant show with intricate plot twists, well-developed characters, and even some scary moments" and "the characters aren't just shallow girly-girls, they have depth!" So what, girliness is mutually exclusive to anything of value? One person even said that the Girl-Show Ghetto was the reason they couldn't get into the show or respect it. Just...wow.
And one review even said "Rarity's pretty tough for a girly girl!" Excuse me? Tough FOR a girly girl? So being a girly girl somehow automatically disqualifies you from being tough? Like "yeah, she's tough despite being a girly girl! Because girly girls aren't supposed to be tough."
It reminds me of the phrase "you're pretty for a black girl", which, while it's never been said to ME, I have heard other people complain about. It's sick and it hurts, just like this. And the few people who didn't say things like that still said that they couldn't get into the show at first because it looked "girly and vapid", before changing their minds and thinking that the show either proved their biases about girly shows wrong, no longer think it's girly since girly shows "can't" be good, or like it "despite" it's girliness.
And there were 70 reviews in all. 70 reviews full of this misogynistic "girly is bad" shit. So in conclusion nearly all the reviews on TV Tropes for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic were along the lines of one of three things. 1) "This show is girly so I looked past it because girly shows are dumb." 2) "This show is good despite being girly/the characters are good despite being girly." and 3) "This show is not girly to me at all because it is well-written and captivating and girly shows aren't capable of such things."
Granted, some people there were able and willing to call out those who judged the show badly for being girly(or gave it the "not like other girls" treatment, but in show form), as well as people warning other potential viewers to get rid of any potential bias they may have against it due to it being girly. But there were still more people insulting its girliness as a reason they think it sucks or denying its girliness to justify their liking of it than the other way around.
I would've accepted it in the form of "If you think this show is bad because of its inherent girliness, then you are wrong!" or "This show is proof that a show being girly or aimed at girls doesn't and shouldn't take away from its value, as people seem to believe." or "A girl can be girly and be a strong female character.", but no, instead I got shit like this. It's especially insulting when TV Tropes is a site that devotes itself in part to critiquing sexist tropes found in media, only to turn right around and reinforce them.
I don’t read TV Tropes that frequently, so I fortunately missed out on all of these complete idiots who associate girly products with being bad.
(that “pretty for a black girl” comment makes me hate all aspects of “expectations of beauty” and it’s like--plz let these die)
I could maybe see an argument for criticizing a girls show for being “saccharine” if it were like, “girls’ shows written by men who clearly don’t know how to write girls are usually bad,” because then it’s not a criticism of girls’ shows exactly but rather who keeps being put in charge of writing them.
Anonymous said:
I get so annoyed when people get upset when confronted with the matter of female representation with "what's so wrong with one show having a male protagonist or mostly men and one/a few women? Why do we have to include women in everything?" These people clearly do not understand that one show doing it is one thing, but when multiple shows do it, it's an obvious problem. It's even worse when they turn around and diss shows with largely female casts for "not having enough men".
And as for people getting upset that "every show has to include women/come with a checkbox nowadays", as if it's bad to include women in your story...look around. Women make up 50% of the population. They're literally everywhere. What reason do you have to not include a substantial amount of women?
These people act like male is the default and women are a last resort. They see no problem with men dominating a cast because it's justified(despite that not reflecting real life), and yet having female characters, or, hell, a female-dominated cast(I know they also don't reflect real life, but there are still female-dominated spaces; most colleges are 2/3 female) is "unrealistic" trying to fulfill a quota, or a straw feminist agenda, as if characters can't be female for their own sake. You shouldn't have to be forced include women because their presence should be a given.
How many stories nowadays take place in the war front in Viking times or whatever? A lot of men just don't want to include female characters or see them represented(well) in media because those who are overrepresented tend to want to stay that way. They likely also have insecurities about their masculinity and are worried about female characters flooding their shows with estrogen and ruining the shows they love, because they can't relate to female characters or enjoy shows about them without negating their girliness(ie. This show seems girly, but it's actually good), since they're ashamed to associate themselves with anything feminine due to looking down on women or seeing them as bad.
Plus they want to be the center of everything so the second a show is about mostly women they get upset and claim it's "sexist against men" because it's not about them. Hence why bronies(bless their souls) are made fun of for the grave sin of enjoying a female-centric show with a female protagonist and largely female characters. Granted, there are some freaky fans, but there's still some sexism at play here.
This reminds me of a post I saw about a boy who actually looked up to female characters because you can pick a role model who doesn’t fit your gender. Crazy concept, I know. ;P
And yeah, that’s how it goes with equality. People who are best/most represented don’t want equality because they think it means less for them and they don’t want that, like a child who doesn’t want to share their cookies with everyone else.
Anonymous said:
I love TV Tropes, but if there's one problem I have with it, it's how often it associates femininity with weakness. The "Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy" trope is a good example of this, but the worst offender in my opinion is the Girly Girl With a Tomboy Streak, as most of the examples there are simply of girls who are strong-willed or fierce or can fight. Because you know, those traits are male. It's bad because there are ALREADY tropes for girly girls who can fight, Girly Bruiser and Lady of War (which TV Tropes even goes out of its way to SAY shouldn't be counted as a "Tomboy Streak" and yet does stuff like this), but it's also bad because ANY girly girl with these qualities, no matter how feminine they are otherwise, will be seen by TV Tropes as having to be at least somewhat tomboyish(read: masculine) in order to have those traits. Because regular girly girls are just weak and fragile and only want to be housewives.
It's even worse when you realize that much of these characters are created with the exact purpose of subverting the stereotype that girliness equals weak, and instead present a new and more empowering form of femininity: that femininity is strong and DOES NOT equal being a passive sex tool for men's pleasure. They're MEANT to show that being a tomboy is not the only way to be strong, and TV Tropes acknowledges that! But then they also go and claim these characters have "Tomboy Streaks" thus undermining the positive message by insinuating that you have to be tomboyish to be strong and that even girly girls have to have some level of masculinity to be deemed respectable and equal human beings, plus manipulating many impressionable folks into thinking strength and bravery is automatically tomboyish.
Worse yet, they often put a character here because "she's a big eater" or "she burps/farts a lot". Gee, I didn't know women had bodily functions? I didn't know women had digestive systems? So basically any time a girl shows that she is a human being and not a pretty, passive doll to be idealized, she is acting like a man. Because only men are fully-fledged human beings. Even outside of that, look at basically any masculinity-femininity contrast trope(Tomboy and Girly Girl, Sensitive Guy and Manly Man, Masculine Girl Feminine Boy, etc.). The "masculine" character will often be described as dominant, assertive, or outspoken, and the "feminine" character will often be called weak-willed, passive, emotional, and timid. It's fucking sickening.
The Tomboy With A Girly Streak trope is similar to its inverse in that a tomboyish girl will often be placed under this trope with their proclaimed "girly" streak being that she's tender or cries a lot or is soft spoken/a doormat. Because being girly is about not taking up too much space, not having any ambition or aspiration, and overall being a weak and shallow waste of space. For a site that claims to dismantle such sexist misconceptions, it sure does reinforce them just as much.
I almost want to stop using TV Tropes based on that and many other reasons, but it's a genuinely informative site that at least tries to avoid these stereotypes(plus it's edited by more than one person), it just doesn't do enough. For example, they made an awkward claim once that women can't fight while on their periods, and even have an Improbably Female Cast trope, as if it's abnormal that a cast could consist of mostly women and demands an explanation. To them, femininity=inferior.
And then in comes the “anti-girl tomboy” characters who basically do everything “girls don’t do;” glares at things like make-up and such, rolls eyes at the subject of “girl talk” or “romance,” drinks anything carbonated and spreads their legs wide open, etcetera.
Guys really don’t get the same version, at least not that I’m aware of? Like, at best, they don’t participate in “guy things” but that’s about it.
Having characters acknowledge it just makes everything more blatant, like if a woman comes by and the guys have to assure “DON’T WORRY, SHE’S LIKE ONE OF THE GUYS.”
It’s like a woman can only hang out and engage in “guy talk/time” (the concept of which I hate but that’s besides the point) if they can crush a beer can against their forehead.
Anonymous said:
OMG TV Tropes called Cirno the Ice Fairy from Touhou a "tomboy"? Why? Because she's boisterous and outspoken and not a "shy girly-girl" like Daiyousei! TV Tropes clearly believes that any girl or woman who is more than just a pretty face(which ALL women are, by the way), who takes up space, who has a dynamic personality and isn't just a weeping wallflower(which I'm not saying Daiyousei is) is a tomboy. Because she's acting like a man that way. Ugh, so over TV Tropes and their sexism.
And all the girls in Touhou(including Cirno) wear big frilly dresses anyway so it doesn't really make sense to see ANY of them as tomboys. But no, apparently any girl who is rowdy or tough or is active and not passive is a tomboy. You gotta be a tomboy to have attitude. You can tell they think so because they often say things like "strong, but still feminine" as if those things are opposites. They even described femininity as "weak and susceptible, vain and superficial". Like, ugh, kill me now.
I legitimately want to see a bullet point list here of what qualifies as a “tomboy.” Like, what, anyone who does one thing that isn’t “girly”?
Can we just throw out all of these terms; not even replace them, just throw them out?
(the below ask is incomplete - the first part is missing - but the asker clarified after I asked them, so clarification is below:)
Anonymous said:
Tropes is because I'm working on a story and I hope when it becomes famous that TV Tropes will write about it, but as it stands, I'm beginning to wonder that TV Tropes undermines most stories or plots to do with women one way or another. I mean, they constantly create tropes with the intent of calling out inherent biases, yet reinforce those biases themselves.
For example, they have a trope called Men Are Generic, Women Are Special, which points out the bias of male being the default, and yet on almost every other page on the wiki describing a trope, the default character will be a "he"(especially if it's a character trope), and whenever they mention "The Hero" or "The Big Bad" it's always a he unless it needs to be female(like if the heroine is in a romance story, or if the villain is a seductress). Female characters at best, can hope to be "The Heart" or "The Chick" of the group(which is often used in a demeaning way).
They even have a trope called "Improbably Female Cast" in which they point out all the instances of a story's setting having an "over-abundance" of women or girls with no men in sight, and claim that such stories have majority female characters when it is "unusual" "unlikely" or "lacks justification". Someone even suggested that the trope should be called "Where Are All The Men?" as if there's something inherently weird or wrong when a story is dominated by female characters, and like the story is in dire need of men, as if only men can be protagonists.
Even if the story has a justifiable reason for having mostly women, the fact that the writer made that choice at all is somehow deserving of mention. The mere fact that there's no "Improbably Male Cast" trope shows where the site's biases lay. They don't see anything wrong with a show being dominated by men with little to no female representation(ex. Death Note), and yet a show dominated by women(ex. MLPFIM) is somehow an anomaly and demands an explanation(even if the story does provide a reason for it, TV Tropes will still list it and presume it "improbable", as if to say "I mean, yeah, but there's no reason why you couldn't just make them mEn instead", as if writers who have mostly female characters are going out of their way to steer away from the "default" males.
In fact, they even admit that "Men Are Generic, Women Are Special" is their reason for having such a trope, but not the inverse. They even say that it's not the trope if the show revolves around a group of girlfriends with no indication of the gender ratio in the wider setting. So any time the females outnumber the males a story it's instantly labeled "improbable" because there's NO WAY any setting AT ALL could have more females than males. That's improbable! You see, this is why when women are 1/3 of the people in a given space men perceive it as "majority female" because they're uncomfortable with women having more of a presence than men.
We'll never have true equality if shows with majority female casts continue to be scrutinized under a microscope and assumed to be of inferior, lesser quality, just because there's no male characters around and it's women who are driving the plot. My problem isn't that they have a trope for majority female casts, it COULD be a testament to gender equality(ie., "there used to not be a lot of shows revolving around women, but now they're becoming increasingly common and well-known), but it's that they single out such stories as "unlikely" and thus discredit them.
And worse yet, they refuse to change the name, because they don't see a problem with it. So now every single show that doesn't have an equal number of males and females or more males than females is going to be called "improbable" by TV Tropes, because there's something(bad) to be said about shows that choose to make most of their characters women. Death Note and Naruto can slide by the radar of having loads of men, but Madoka Magica and Touhou are "improbable"? Because they have loads of women?
the clarification:
Anonymous said:
I started out complaining about how TV Tropes says that boys will watch Star Vs. The Forces of Evil only because of Marco(who's great, but it comes off like boys can only relate to boy characters) and that the show only looks girly but has a deep complex plot with scary moments(as if a show can't be dark and complex and still be girly; girly=shallow, watered down fluff), hence my complaint about TV Tropes undermining girly shows or anything "girly".
Yup, exactly like I said.
Good stuff in “girly” things is the exception. Good stuff in “manly” things is expected.
Which is funny when you consider stuff like “edgy” reboots of things. Like, Disney remakes their original movies and that usually means making them worse (like in Beauty and the Beast - god I hate that remake - where the objects are going to become complete objects when the last petal falls even though the enchantress is explicitly a good person and it comes off as super cruel and unnecessary), but that seems to just be its own breed of bad I guess.
Then there are terms like “chick flicks” and “soap operas” which are usually women-oriented and tend to be considered dumb/over-dramatic.
You know, not like MEN shows with their sexualization of women, guns and MEN things.
Anonymous said:
Remember what I said about TV Tropes being sexist? Well, they also have a trope called "Girly Run". Like, that's literally the name. Girly. Run. Thankfully the first example(which is under advertising due to the forms of media being in alphabetical order) is an aversion from the blessed Like A Girl campaign, but...just reading the page lets the casual-yet-bold-faced sexism speak for itself.
why can’t things just be like the Sims where characters can wear whatever the hell they want and have any personality without any judgment or criticism from other Sims?
(more Madoka Magica talk - and ONLY Madoka Magica talk - below because I’ve unleashed a monster apparently:)
Anonymous said:
I know you don't like Frozen but I saw a theory somewhere that Elsa's powers came from making a contract with Kyubey and her wish was to impress her sister and anyway I can't stop rolling my eyes. This isn't(just) because of my distaste for Madoka Magica compared to my love for Frozen, but if Elsa's a Puella Magi then why didn't she become a witch long ago? How did she make it to adulthood? How did she become emotionally stable? And why do her powers have to come from a negative source?
I think it might just be people looking for excuses to do their crossover fanfiction which--yeah, I’m not crazy about that.
Anonymous said:
Did you know that Cristina Vee voiced Homura Akemi in the English Dub? It's very noticeable, especially during the Cake Song, where I could've sworn she sounds exactly like Marinette. By the way, I'm still not sure what the hell was going on in that song. Could you please explain it to me(if you know)?
Nooooo don’t make me think of Homura when I think of Marinette!! fjkdgjnfdg
lol but seriously, I think the Cake Song is just meant to be one of those “weird but meant to be dEeP” things that shows do sometimes to be cool (not a criticism technically; depends on how it’s used).
I think the cake is the labyrinth and Homura saying that she’s the pumpkin makes her the odd one out since pumpkins are associated with scares and halloween, so it’s “foreshadowing” her being the witch. The things that they say they are... they’re like--ingredients for a meal, but not a cake, so the the cake is the labyrinth and they’re the things that would go inside it.
Homura and Madoka are the only ones who really get descriptions to go with them. Homura says that she’s “full of seeds” (despair?) and Madoka implies that it’ll bring sweet dreams once she’s sliced (which is either referring to the godly freedom given to magical girls before they turn into witches, or foreshadowing Madoka being “split” after Homura stops Madoka from purifying her, leading to Homura’s “sweet dream” of what it’s like when everything is “normal” after her reality twisting).
Anonymous said:
May I ask what you don't like about Kyoko's character? Is it because she was the stereotypical "jerk with a heart of gold"? Or because the writer made her flip from hating Sayaka and wanting her dead to suddenly dying for Sayaka even though she barely knows her compared to Madoka(because the writer doesn't understand how girls' relationships work)? For me it was a mixture of both(though I still don't mind KyoSaya!), but I still liked her enough, she just felt a tad stereotypical. Your thoughts?
It’s both. I just don’t like characters like her at all and the runtime of Madoka Magica can’t maintain all of these characters, “developing” them, and then killing them off. I don’t even have any time to get attached to them because they’re dead within a matter of a few episodes.
And it’s always like, “okay here’s this character’s backstory to make you feel emotionally attached--HA NOW THEY’RE DEAD. SEE??? WE TOTALLY GOT YOU.”
Like, no, you didn’t. I didn’t even have time to care about THEM, much less their actual death.
Anonymous said:
What about the girls in Madoka Magica? Do you think they're strong female characters? Now, obviously the show is not feminist, since it misses the whole point of Magical Girl, which is to empower girls and show them that girls can be powerful and feminine and can find strength in solidarity with each other by instead making them suffer and fight each other and have their power come from their emotions, which are exploited and turned against them because women can't be powerful, but still...
It’s the same way I feel about Marinette; there are some who I want to say are strong characters, but the writing is ready to just kill them off at any time and bully them for essentially having emotions.
Basically, imagine a male writer hands you a character sheet and is like, “AW YEAH CHECK OUT THIS sTrOng FEMALE CHARACTER I WROTE.”
Like, even if they were right, their ego and obnoxiousness about the whole thing, along with what they actually do to said character, makes you not want to give them any credit for it.
Anonymous said:
How do you think Puella Magi Madoka Magica would be different if they had magical boys as well(which can mean either gender-bending canon magical girls or introducing original magical boys)? Do you think the show would be better? Worse? Or would it be just about the same?
Personally I feel like having magical boys would be good and bad; good because there would be no more of the “teenage girls are hysterical” crap and it wouldn’t just be girls suffering because they can’t handle power, and bad because it would still be problematic(for stereotyping all teens as over emotional and deserving to be taken advantage of by the Incubators, and it would still be about kids suffering in a genre meant to empower girls, having some of them be boys wouldn’t help that much).
I also feel like Gen Urobuchi would still make the girls suffer more and have them be more emotionally and mentally unstable. Holy crap it feels like he read up on Aristotle’s views on women while making this show.
It would at least be more balanced I guess? Like, teenage years are a fragile time, so it would make sense for both girls and boys to be taken advantage of. I still wouldn’t like it but it would be nice to point out, “there are emotional boys as well as emotional girls.”
Anonymous said:
Literally all the problems with Treatment of Marinette, Chat's Entitlement(TM), and the sheer sexism in general(ex. all the teenage girls and even women villains being catty and bitchy, while the male villains are cool, suave, and calculating; female villains being irredeemable scum while male villains are "not as bad as they seem", etc.) could all be solved if the show just got some more female writers! You know a show isn't feminist like people claim if none of the writers are women.
That's what I love about Friendship is Magic; the show is written and directed by a woman and actually has a variety of both male and female writers! Plus, Lauren Faust explicitly identifies as a feminist and claims her works are meant to empower women and show them that there's no wrong way to be a girl. And the show reflects that! There's no "token girl" who checks all the boxes; the females have realistic flaws, diverse personalities, and let's not forget ARE THE HEROES!!! Not to mention that the cast is actually PREDOMINANTLY FEMALE. Do people have any idea how refreshing that is?!
And that's why whenever people claim that shows like Madoka Magica are feminist when it's written by men for men while also dismissing actually feminist shows written by women for women as "sexist" or "demeaning", I cringe inside. It's not just what the show looks like, it's what the people behind it say.
And Gen Urobuchi is not a feminist. At all. Just listen to the things he says about the girls, that they're terrorists who are full of hubris and destined to be alone, and that actual magical girl shows weren't his inspiration beyond the show's cosmetics, he just based it off of porn games. He only watched those shows after making Madoka Magica and admitted they were weird to him. Well, maybe they wouldn't be weird if you actually used them as inspiration! Why are you even making magical girl? So basically he admitted that all the suffering the girls go through is because it's his fetish.
I knew I wasn't imagining things when I saw all those weird shots and angles(ex. zooming in on Sayaka's thighs and breasts when she collapses to the floor, Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her legs when agitated, zooming in on Kyoko's ass when she takes her phone out of her shorts' back pocket, it's all for cheap titillation). And yet people keep saying the show is devoid of male gaze and sexism and why? Because apparently men know how to represent women better than women themselves.
you said “Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her thighs” and it gave me an immediate flashback, I hate it
I find that it’s a similar thing with gay anime/manga; I’m more likely to trust a F/F story if it’s written by a woman since they’re less likely to sexualize everything.
Anonymous said:
Homura in Puella Magi Madoka Magica: But Madoka, what's going to happen to you? You'll end up all alone here forever! You'll never be able to see your friends and family! Homura in Rebellion: Haha, screw Madoka's friends and family! Only I am worthy of Madoka's love! That girl belongs to me! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!(I'm sorry for the over exaggeration, but this is how it felt for me.)
Apparently, it was better for Madoka to just have all of her memories and powers yoinked away.
Sayaka is Madoka’s right hand girl so idk why Homura has this idea that she needs to sAvE Madoka. The fact that this whole thing comes out of a misunderstanding (because Madoka doesn’t have her memories) is so irritating.
Anonymous said:
I actually love Madoka Magica, but I completely agree with you on the hysterical women thing. Why couldn’t they just have... both magical girls and magical boys? Like, just mention that magical boys are a thing? They don’t even have to change anything but that, they don’t even really have to show it, just be like “yeah there’s magical boys too but that’s not really what this story is about, it’s about our characters we have here”. I don’t know, feels like that would have at least helped stuff.
Yeah, they don’t have to bother having the magical boys around. Just to know they exist would be enough. I mean, the fact that the focus is on them would still be bothersome (they’d probably do a thing where each girl represents a different emotion that is easily manipulated/easy to control), but it’d be something.
Anonymous said:
One thing that weirds me out when people are talking about Madoka Magica is when people refer to the characters as "little girls". Like, excuse me? They are not "little girls". They are teenagers! All of them are at least 14 years old! I hate when people call them "little", it's just so condescending and infantilizing, especially when the show does enough of that to them already. After all, no one makes that mistake with the heroines of Lucky Star and Hidamari Sketch(who are also drawn by Aoki)!
I feel like it’s the equivalent of when people call women “girls,” y’know? Sort of a “treating females as younger than they really are,” which is probably what gives guys the feeling that they have control.
For a gender that claims to be so dominant, certain ones sure have to delude themselves a lot to make themselves feel better.
Anonymous said:
I was thinking about what you said about Puella Magi Madoka Magica passing the Bechdel Test, and if it counts if there's barely any men to talk about. And while I do agree that it counts, I also feel that it doesn't really matter much in shows such as Madoka. This isn't even about feminism, this is about the fact that if a show has next to no men in it at all then it's pretty much a given that they won't talk about them since it would be impractical to talk about something that doesn't exist.
So because of that, I think there should either be an alternative test which only applies to shows that have a significant or equal number of male characters and yet the ladies still pass the test(making it feel more "real" since the option to talk about men is there), or the test should be rewritten entirely so that it only applies to shows in which the cast is either equally gender-split, or has a majority male cast/significant amount of males even if the females still outnumber them.
Reminds me of how, on TV Tropes, someone suggested that there should be a "Weak" and "Strong" Bechdel Test, where "Weak" refers to the women talking about something other than men because it is literally what's relevant at the moment(such as two female police officers discussing how to catch a female killer), thus applying the Bechdel Test there seems semi-void, while "Strong" is when they could talk about men but choose not to(ie. two female students talking about their grades during lunch).
And just to clarify about the "Strong" one, when I say they could talk about men but choose not to, this isn't to imply that female characters should talk about men, or that something's wrong with them for not talking about men, just that there's nothing stopping them from doing so, but they choose to talk about something unrelated to men. I think this strategy is much better than the test we have because it makes conversations between female characters seem more real since they're discussing things other than men of their own volition, rather than the non-male-centered talk being because they have to talk about it in-universe. I say that because The Bechdel Test serves to show that women's lives don't and shouldn't revolve around men, and they can talk about other things if they want to, but if the conversation is because they have to(like the example I gave), that gives sexists the opportunity to go "Yeah, well, they're only talking about it because it's their job!"
But if the female characters talk about things other than men of their own free will(as in, when the option is still there), then it shows that women really do have their own free will to talk about their own things and that there is NO REASON to not pass the Bechdel Test in today's day and age(I keep hearing people claim the test is stupid and doesn't matter, but then it should be easy to pass). "Oh, but if they had the choice, they would talk about men." No, because men don't sit around and talk about the women in their lives all day so why should women talk about the men in their lives all day? And to the people saying these types of tests are getting in the way of their "creativity", well, now that we know that you think female representation is stupid and something you have to be forced to do, we don't have to listen to a word you say. ;)
I like the idea of adjusting the Bechdel Test for other circumstances and expanding it as such!
You could also extend it to things like sexualization, because--I mean, having two female characters who talk to each other probably doesn’t mean much if they’re half-dressed or the writer wanted to make them bisexual for “The Fanservice.”
Anonymous said:
To be honest deconstructions of Magical Girl confuse me. There are some good ones out there(such as Princess Tutu and Revolutionary Girl Utena, so I know they're not all just torture porn, my only gripe with Utena is the implication that girls who take on the feminine "Princess" role are weak), but at its heart Magical Girl has always dealt with death, gore and pain just as much as female empowerment.
It makes me feel like the people who write these stories haven't seen magical girl and think it's all just sunshine and rainbows and that just because it's "girly" it's vapid and has no substance, and since the only way to have substance apparently is to be "dark", they go "screw it with all this princessy magical shit! Let's make our show dark instead!" When in reality if they had just sat down and watched a magical girl anime, they would understand that this is not the case.
Not to mention that many of them tend to have fanservice and the idea that magical girls have to suffer, so instead of empowering young girls, they end up misrepresenting the genre and turning it into fetish fuel torture porn for adult men(Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna are very good examples of this; the writer of Madoka says that the girls are terrorists and full of hubris and that he was inspired by porn games). It's not that you can't deconstruct the genre at all, but it's almost never done tastefully and the magical girl themes are just a cover used to explain the suffering the girls go through. :(
Another thing about magical girl deconstructions is that they often reinforce patriarchal themes, like that girls shouldn't want things for themselves and that genuinely doing something for someone while also having ulterior motives that help yourself are a BAD BAD BAD thing, no matter how ultimately harmless they are, even if they help everybody involved. They also tend to reinforce Tall Poppy Syndrome and portray the powers as harmful or a bad thing, implying that girls shouldn't have power.
Honestly, I think there can totally be even more substance in magical girl anime that doesn’t have to resort to “make it eDgY” (which I feel like is a slippery slope that can easily come off as lazy); for example, I’d really enjoy seeing something deeper to magical girl powers than something like, “oh, this magical girl happens to have the power that fits their personality,” such as a magical girl who has a power she feels she doesn’t fit but it’s a matter of perspective/seeing herself differently, or a magical girl who does have the powers that “fit” her personality - like a “fiery” girl with fire powers - and the weaknesses in her powers correlate to the weaknesses in her personality, so she has to either iron out those issues or find workarounds, as true “perfection” isn’t possible nor practical, which is something all the girls have to accept despite whatever pressure they’re under.
.I dunno, I like lore and powers revolving around metaphors. It’s fun.
Anonymous said:
About what you said in regards to "no pueri magi because it doesn't hit the shock value threshold enough", I remember this interesting comment I saw on an article called "The Problem With The Dark Magical Girl Genre"(which I would totally recommend checking out, by the way!) which said that shojo magical girl and seinen magical girl both embrace a different philosophy regarding strong female fighters. In shojo, they tend to embrace femininity as a strength and show girls that they have the power to do whatever they want and undergo dangerous professions. But in seinen, which conveniently enough is more likely to "deconstruct" the genre(ugh), rather than admiring the girls and supporting them in their endeavors, the girls are meant to be pitied(often to the point of infantilization) when bad things happen to them, with the fact that they are girls serving to make everything worse. It operates under the idea that girls are fragile, in need of protection, and shouldn't be fighting at all.
That's why deconstructions like Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna don't sit right with me, and also why I don't consider them feminist series. People can say whatever they want about Sailor Moon and Pretty Cure, but ultimately they also had dark and dangerous themes(to the point where some kids had nightmares), but ultimately allowed the girls to rise above the hell they went through and find the strength in them to save the day. We feel bad for them when they die, not because they're moe girls, but because we were actually given the time to form a connection with them and want to see them succeed, rather than just be expected to pity them because they're cute manipulated girls. That way, when they ultimately save the day, it's all the more satisfying. Princess Tutu was a deconstruction that actually went about it in the right way, because the girls eventually found the courage to defeat their enemies in a way that made sense. Why the hell is it a "good" thing to subvert that?
No clue, but I basically agree with everything there. I mean, Madoka Magica’s entire stick is basically that all the girls are like “uwu” in terms of the style (with Madoka being the “cutest” of them all) and then being put in this dark and edgy plot+setting; it’s for both the shock value and the “contrast” of having “moe” characters be thrust into these situations to essentially die.
And the conclusion doesn’t end up being satisfying (at least to me) because the villain doesn’t have emotions so he’s just like “owo” (seriously, I wouldn’t hate on Rebellion so much if Kyubey had been given emotions rather than going crazy; Homura can basically do whatever she wants and it was SUCH A MISSED OPPORTUNITY) so it ends up being more about the journey getting there like wow look at all the sUbvErSiOnS and dEaTh we had along the way!
Because at the end of the day, it’s still like, “the girls give into their ‘hysterical emotions’ in the end basically no matter what,” even if they get saved by Madoka in the end.
Anonymous said:
Do you remember, in Madoka Magica, when Kyubey said that humans would still be living in caves if not for the Incubators? First of all, keep in mind what Incubators do. Their entire purpose on this earth is to feed off the emotions of young teenage girls as they spiral into despair as a result of their delusions of power. Like wow, let that sink in. Apparently humanity's advancement relies on the exploitation of women. We are literally the punching bags of the universe. Isn't it lovely?
No! You see--we’re so important to the world! If we weren’t emotionally exploited, the world wouldn’t be the way it is now! :D
(kill me)
Anonymous said:
I once saw a tag on tumblr that read "The only good magical girl anime is Madoka Magica because it's gay, and even it has problems." Like, ugh. Really? Has this person not watched ANY other magical girl anime? Such ignorance. So many things wrong with that statement that I can't--and WON'T--even begin to unravel here.
MADOKA MAGICA IS NOT GAY AND I’M SO TIRED OF PEOPLE CLAIMING IT IS
s T O P
I DON’T EVEN CONSIDER YURI ON ICE TO BE GAY. MADOKA MAGICA? NAH MAN.
Anonymous said:
Do the girls in Madoka Magica even have transformation phrases? You know, like how Marinette says "Tikki, spots on!" or how Sailor Moon says "Moon Prism Power! Make-up!" or how Iris in LoliRock says "Iris! Princess of Ephedia!" etc. But in Madoka Magica, there doesn't seem to be any of that. At least in Yuki Yuna they pressed a button on their phones. But how do the Puellae Magi even transform? Just goes to show you how Gen Urobuchi knows next to nothing about the genre he claims to deconstruct.
Transformation phrases are magical and cool and you can’t take that away from me.
Anonymous said:
I had a shower thought about Madoka randomly in bed last night: If a Magical Girl's Soul Gem loses control over its user when 100 metres or further away from it, that meant that when Homura got Sayaka's Soul Gem back for her, Sayaka should've regained consciousness once Homura was less than 100 metres away, even if she didn't have her Soul Gem yet. I also love to ponder why on Earth Homura would even bother retrieving Sayaka's Soul Gem if she only cares about Madoka and Madoka's well-being.
I think it’s just a complicated process of Homura trying to make sure Madoka doesn’t fall into despair herself (in a non-witch way) and is convinced to make a wish.
Anonymous said:
The more I think about it, the more I realize that Sayaka really got the worst deal out of the whole thing. While her story may seem more "mundane" compared to the others(she just wanted the token Ill Boy osananajimi to like her back), she's the only one who somehow isn't brought back when Madoka recreates the universe, loses her Soul Gem on more than one account(and on the second, she starts decomposing and her crush sees her and calls her a monster because he thinks she's pretending to be the REAL Sayaka), is supposedly the weakest Magical Girl, getting swiftly taken out by both Kyoko AND Homura(the latter of which doesn't even make sense, if her body can heal why was she taken out so quickly?), takes a long while to show up in Magia Record, and Gen somehow finds it suiting to single her out as the one who is "destined to die" every time she makes a contract. Apparently the series director wanted Sayaka to live/be brought back, but Gen refused because it just had to be edgy.
Of course, MEN are allowed to have wish fulfillment power fantasies and dream like the sky's no limit and aspire to be all they want to be, but the second WOMEN try to be the strong ones, the powerful ones, or dream of something for themselves and others, they have to learn a lesson about how unrealistic their fantasies are and how they'll never live out their dreams. Hence why Sayaka puts the blame all on herself, saying that she's not a hero and was stupid and selfish the whole time.
"token Ill Boy osananajimi“ dfhbgjhfdgdfg
It was a real shame because I liked Sayaka somewhat (not saying much but still) and she was such a predictable one to go. Like, “oh wow, an angst-y anime all about shock value? so basically the best friend is dead then with no chance of survival.”
I think I do remember being told/reading somewhere (so don’t quote me) that Sayaka is the one that’s hardest to keep alive in the games, so you have to work hard for it. It just sucks.
Anonymous said:
Yet another thing that bothers me about Puella Magi is how the show frames the young ladies as if everything is their fault even though they have no idea what they're getting into because the person who makes the deal doesn't even bother explaining shit to them and all the show's attempts at deconstructing is just taking lighthearted elements meant to empower girls and show them that they can be brave and strong as well as feminine and make them dark and morbid.
Like, I get the whole "having young girls fight is a little unrealistic" aspect, but most magical girl shows actually do touch on that! Only difference is that over time, they become stronger and better at fighting(which is only to be expected, whether you're a teenage girl or not) and become more competent along the way because the whole genre is about FEMALE EMPOWERMENT.
Not to mention how the show seems to forget that the Incubators are villains and even seems to put them in the right and the girls in the wrong, what with the claim that they rationalize with the girls they make contracts with like sentient human beings(yeah, because emotionally manipulating young girls and literally taking their souls out of their bodies and making them liches without their consent is definitely treating them like sentient human beings), and that they always follow up on their end of the deal whereas it's the girls' faults their wishes go sour because they never wish for what they truly want(I'm sorry, but I simply DO NOT buy that. Homura and Mami outright wished for what they wanted. Their wishes went sour because the plot "decided" that they should have wished in a different way; plus, you're telling me that if Sayaka had outright said she wished "for Kyousuke to love her back" that the show wouldn't just "make" him mind-controlled or have Sayaka "outgrow" her feelings by the time he falls in love with her, all the while making it out to be "her" fault he's so heartbroken because she was some kind of tease or whatever, further demonizing girls' sexualities?).
Plus they explicitly claim that every woman in history was a magical girl and that without them, humanity would still be in caves(as in, humanity wouldn't be able to progress without the oppression and exploitation of women, and women can't gain power without going insane because female power is some unhealthy, inhuman, infernal thing.). Even if we take this all as a reflection of patriarchal society(which I highly doubt it was, if anything, it reinforces it), all it does is imply that the oppression of women is the natural order of things, required even.
As for the girls themselves, they routinely beat themselves up and the show makes no effort to tell them they're wrong(up until the massive cop-out of an ending), like how Sayaka's last words before becoming a witch are literally her "admitting" that she was "stupid, so stupid" for wanting a boy to love her and be healed of his infirmity. It just seems like we're supposed to think "you know, maybe the Incubators aren't that bad!" while ignoring that the girls are being treated like the disposable trash bags of the universe. This show already does the magical girl genre dirty but treating it like everything the Incubators did was necessary and like it's all the girls' faults these things happened to them in the first place is the icing on the stale, sour cake. Nothing like a giant heap of sexism to help get you through your day. :/
I’ve noticed this a lot in Miraculous, but Madoka Magica somehow does it worse; this “one (supposed) mistake leads to all of these consequences you never saw coming.”
Like Ladybug calling Lila out. We know that Lila’s pettiness in “Chameleon” shows that it wouldn’t matter whether Ladybug yelled at her or not; the simple fact that Marinette opposes a liar led to Marinette getting expelled, even if only for a while. Then there’s “Miracle Queen” and all that garbage that came with it.
These two shows put their teenage girls through hell for having emotions and there’s no way to undo it.
Anonymous said:
Honestly, the Madoka Magica fandom is basically the magical girl equivalent of "not like other girls" type women. I can't say I'd be surprised if they didn't watch a single magical girl show other than Madoka because they're all "stupid and girly but this one is edgy and dark" just because those shows are written by women to inspire other girls and show femininity as a strength while Madoka Magica is written by men for men who want to see young girls suffer without any actual feminism.
Like, let's go through their arguments one-by-one to prove that they don't hold up. They love to say that Madoka Magica is better than other Magical Girl shows because "it's dark and edgy and shows the downsides to being a Magical Girl unlike other shows where it's all sunshine and lollipops". First of all, other Magical girl shows also got very dark. Princess Tutu and Utena are also "darker" takes on the genre, but even more lighthearted shows like Sailor Moon and Precure had scary moments.
The only difference is, with them, they still managed to critique problematic aspects of the genre and actually provided ways to improve it, while STILL managing to keep their target audience(FEMALES) in mind, without condescending to them and infantilizing them. And they still showed the girls being empowered and overcoming the darkness.
In Madoka, there's none of that, there's no actual critique of the genre because Gen didn't have the respect for it to do his research, it's aimed at men so it doesn't keep female viewers in mind by definition(which is also another reason why it can't be a deconstruction; deconstructions should be done FOR its target audience), and the girls are constantly put down and treated like Moe crybabies by the narrative even when they're not(cause, you know, teenage girls are "emotional"!). And it doesn't offer ways the genre could improve, it just takes a female-empowering genre and twists it to be this system of oppression that the genre is meant to avoid.
Magical Girls tend to have a very strong focus on girls empowering girls and all that awesome stuff, and yet when Madoka and Mami form a special bond and Madoka encourages Mami by telling her she's not alone? It makes her big-headed and overconfident and she gets devoured by Charlotte. See what happens when girls rely on each other? Madoka is Sayaka's best friend, but gets pushed aside in favor of Kyoko, who later dies for Sayaka because girls who want to help each other had better be prepared to suffer and die for their beliefs. Sayaka loses everything, which happens to include her best friend, over a guy. And the whole witch process means that any female solidarity that could be found in the show is thrown out the window since the core concept of the show is girls being forced to brutalize and kill and exploit each other.
People act like Madoka is Yuri when it's not, Gen was asked if Homura really was in love with Madoka and if Kyoko really was in love with Sayaka, and what did he do? He beat around the bush. Naoko Takeuchi and Kunihiko Ikuhara(the latter of whom also worked on Sailor Moon R; woah, what a surprise) both admitted that there was gay love in their stories, yet people act like Madoka is super progressive regarding homosexuality when it's just implied and those shows were MUCH more open! Doesn't stop people from claiming the show is "honorary yuri" and saying that the meaning of "yuri" should be broadened to include any close bonds between two female characters, whether or not it's actually romantic, AND favoring the show(and HomuMado) above actual yuri shows that are made to appeal to women. If all this were actually valid, Sailor Moon would be yuri as hell.
I hate seeing people fap over this show and act like it's so revolutionary for recycling things that the genre was ALREADY DOING, because I know full well that the ONLY reason it gets this wide acclaim is because Magical Girl shows have traditionally been written for women and this show is aimed at men. That's literally it. Because nothing a woman writes is good enough, especially when it dares to go against patriarchal constructs of femininity as weak and docile by portraying it as cool and awesome. It doesn't matter how cool and dark and diverse and inclusive and complex Sailor Moon and Precure and Princess Tutu and Utena are, they're written by/for women with the intention of empowering them so they're automatically invalid, cheap, happy-go-lucky crap where nothing bad ever happens and anything those shows try to do ought to be discredited because they don't appeal to men like they should so what's the point?
But the second a MAN comes in and intrudes on a female-dominated space by doing all of those things but with a very shallow understanding of how they ought to be executed, people are all over it because a MAN did it and now it's interesting and respectable! I have seen so many people say that they don't like Magical Girl because it's girly and shallow and stupid, but then they praise Madoka for things that the girly and "shallow" shows have already done! Men are always taking away things meant for women and distorting it to fit their patriarchal views and yet when they do it it's somehow better and anyone who complains is simply a whiny straw feminist!
The fandom does it all the time, someone complains about the show and why they don't like it and find it sexist, and the response is always "you're just not smart enough to understand it; you have no idea what you just watched". Because obviously since it's made by a man it's sooo much smarter then the traditional sappy stuff made by women. That's why it's so annoying when others praise it at the expense of other works in the genre: they know their reasons for liking it are, more often than not, rooted in sexism against female-aimed and female-empowering works, so the only way they can praise it is at the expense of said works, hence them being just like girls who claim they're "not like other girls" when there's nothing wrong with girls being feminine and in fact many of those girls may like the same things you do!
So while I'm not saying there's anything inherently WRONG with liking Madoka, I DO have a problem with people who act like it's better or more serious than other shows in the genre and simply discard them on the grounds that they're "for girls", since they obviously didn't watch them.
me when I initially watched Madoka Magica: I don’t get why this exists.
me when I learned it was written by a man: ohhh, now I get it.
I also take issue with people comparing things that are made for different demographics. Like look, I don’t care if you enjoy your angst display over here, but also maybe don’t compare it to the stuff not even made for you unless you’re willing to get into a fight over it?
It comes off wrong, like they have to trash on stuff because it wasn’t made for them, y’know?
Anonymous said:
Honestly, I am so sick of people saying that Magical Girl shows are sexist or anti-feminist, when all they do is portray girls being awesome and powerful while also being feminine at the same time, because "Well in Japan it's actually gender conformity because it's telling girls they can only be strong if they're feminine! You're just projecting your Western values onto an Eastern work!".
First of all these shows are made by women for women and often have explicit feminine messages that you literally cannot miss unless you are simply blind or trying not to see them. And they also tend to have a very strong focus on women supporting or empowering other women. Just think of Sailor Moon, which constantly gets this "criticism", and yet there's an episode where the girls explicitly protest against a villain who claims women are all shallow and useless and can't do anything without men's help. Would Naoko Takeuchi put that in the show if she weren't a feminist?
And then there's the fact that she has said that one message she wanted the female leads to convey was to value their relationships between other girls because girls are strong and don't need to waste time depending on men. There's also the fact that most Magical Girl shows tend to treat the powers as something special and awesome that's unique to women and girls, paired with the coming-of-age themes present in the show, and you get a magical equivalent of female puberty, with magic mixed in.
But no, all of that gets thrown out the window because they dare to be "feminine" while doing all of that stuff and the Japanese are forcing their girls to be girly through Magical Girl propaganda. And I just HATE when people act like anything feminine must be societally forced onto girls, rather than girls just happening to like them. In addition, stating that they are simply reinforcing gender roles by being feminine is such bullshit because the whole purpose isn't about conforming to patriarchal femininity, it's about reclaiming femininity.
Too often, femininity is associated with being weak, powerless, helpless, submissive, docile, vapid, catty, bitchy, petty, vain, stupid, the list goes on. Magical Girl saves femininity from a bad reputation. It shows femininity in a new light, as something strong and powerful and, hell, even admirable! It's about telling girls "Hey, you can be strong and powerful and smart, but you don't have to be a tomboy or act like a man to do so". Girls are always told they have to act masculine to be taken seriously because the only way to be respected is to be like a man, which is an indirect way of saying that only men deserve respect.
Magical Girl does away with all that in favor of showing the feminine as something innately powerful, and yet naysayers MISS the point and say that it's just stereotyping girls instead. To see people claim that Magical Girl forces girls to fit a feminine ideal to be respected is just disappointing. It's supposed to be a female power fantasy for young girls that shows them as the ones being powerful and empowering each other.
Take how in Sailor Moon the heroine often says something along the lines of "I won't let you take advantage of girls", which Wedding Peach went on to imitate. The purpose of the genre is for girls. To empower girls. So why on earth would they show them fitting into a "male" mould of power? Do these people think that any time women are shown acting distinct from men that they are doing something wrong?
And the hypocritical part is that nobody pisses on male-oriented anime for reinforcing a harmful narrative to boys that they have to be masculine to be valued and respected. Of course they don't! Because being "masculine" is never seen as a bad thing to be. It's assumed that masculinity is always strong and good and awesome and there's nothing wrong with boys being forced to be masculine because you're supposed to want to be masculine. You're not supposed to want to be feminine.
So of course people will shit all over Magical Girl for embracing, empowering, and reclaiming femininity, because it's not supposed to be that way! You're not supposed to be feminine and also be strong. You're supposed to deny your identity as a woman and assimilate into the boys' club because only boy things are worthwhile! And they cover it up by saying that Magical Girl forces girls to be feminine, when in actuality the WORLD forces girls to be MASCULINE. Magical Girl doesn't force girls to be feminine, It ALLOWS them to. Do you see the difference there?
Another thing I'd like to bring to the table is that the claim is racist and here's why: The claim that "Magical Girl shows are seen as feminist in the US for portraying femininity as a source of strength but not in Japan because it's telling girls they have to be feminine"...what does that mean? Japanese people can't be feminist? All Japanese people are sexists and think girls have to fit in a certain role? Do Japanese feminists HAVE to be anti-femininity? Are there literally no Japanese people who think you can be feminine AND strong(who also obviously identify as feminists?) Because it seems hella sexist to insinuate that Magical Girl shows are sexist because they're made in Japan and they don't believe you can be feminine AND strong there.
While there is some credibility to it since Japan IS, by and large, much more strict with gender roles, hasn't it ever occurred to these people that these types of shows exist to counter that belief? Not only that, but it implies that people aren't allowed to have opinions on works that aren't made in their culture, and that anyone who sees those shows as feminist are just projecting their Western beliefs onto an Eastern work. And even worse, when people say that, they don't have the same opinion of Western Magical Girl works.
Just look at LoliRock, Miraculous Ladybug, Winx, W.I.T.C.H., Star vs the Forces of Evil, and countless other European/Western Magical Girl works. Where are the people saying "They get their power from femininity and that is sexist!"? Nowhere! They're silent! Even though those are very much like Magical Girl works from Japan(although I don't think the genre originated from there), while still being original.
It's because people think that any media exported from Japan is automatically sexist and demeaning and so anything they create, no matter how empowering their intentions, gets twisted into something that's somehow toxic or unsafe for girls to watch. But when Europeans do the exact same thing nobody complains. Because Japan is not allowed to do anything empowering whatsoever; something's always wrong with it, apparently.
So that's why I have a problem with people who say those things; it's so problematic because they think they're being all open-minded and aware/respectful of other people's cultures, but all they're doing is reinforcing negative stereotypes further. It's kinda like what I said earlier(in another ask) about how people love to praise Madoka Magica for being a unique, dark, and interesting take on the genre when all it did was rehash elements of the genre that already existed, strip away the female empowerment, and gear it towards grown men, which is why people like it more. How about instead of speaking for Japanese people you let them speak for themselves?!
I would also like to add that there’s even a limit to women acting masculine because that’s still “not enough” for those kinda of men who would promote those beliefs. Women need to act more masculine to “be taken seriously” but then you have men who’ll tell them to “dress less” or whatever.
I think what it comes down to is that they want women to not be “emotionally taxing” with all those dAmN eMoTioNs of theirs (unless it’s for the sake of their angsty magical girl anime where the girls suffer for having emotions), but they also need to look pretty and be sexualized.
We can’t win.
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halfgclden · 3 years
Audio
EPISODE 32: A MAJOR OCCURANCE
The sound of spooky intro music plays and fades out. As the microphone clicks on, faint sounds of water and traffic can be heard in the background.
JADE: Hello cryptwizzlers, cryptrackers, but never cryptormentors because we’re all friends here. Welcome to a very special episode of Cryptwins in which we are not actually researching a cryptid. But! Before you shut this off and call us hacks, we are instead researching the recent disappearance of social media fitness guru; Edison Major.
More spooky music plays. There is also the sound of fingers tapping a rhythm. It's typical Joel, unable to contain his energy as he taps the dashboard in time with their intro music.
JOEL: Weeeeeeeell...Maybe we are hacks. —a pause as he laughs— Nah, just kidding. This is the real deal. I'm not sure you're ready for this. This is some spooky, and excuse my French, spooky shit. Tell us more about this Major disappearance? —another laugh— Get it?
JADE: [A short laugh-sigh is let out at Joel’s joke.] Okay, before we begin, two things. One, get ready for the barrage of major and minor jokes, courtesy of Joel here.
JOEL: Got a whole list, be ready! He lets Jade finish, but listeners can still hear the tapping sound while she speaks.
JADE: Secondly, we’re still on the road here, so if the audio is bad or choppy... deal with it? —another small laugh— Anyyyyway. Spooky is right. This all began in September of last year, when @majored posted a picture of himself in a dark basement wearing a weird costume and then immediately went off the grid. And, you know, I’m all for a social media cleanse, people do it all the time. Buuut, what really brought this to our attention was a month later, on Halloween Eve of all nights, when a video popped up of him getting his ass kicked by someone in a Kakashi Hatake costume.
JOEL: Now, I know y'all are asking yourselves "Isn't he a fitness guru? Why was some weeb kickin' his ass?" And to that I say hey! Some weebs are strong, some are Super Saiyan, and others are Kakashi Hatake, the most talented ninja in Konohagukure.
JADE: lets out a laughing wheeze.
JOEL: We don't endorse fighting here. But I digress —a laugh— back on topic. So this guy just up and disappears out of nowhere? And there's not a peep of him until we see Kakashi givin’ him the business. What does this all mean?
JADE: Okay, so, let’s get the full story. @majored goes off the grid, comes back to get his ass kicked by a Naruto character, disappears again, comes back to spit on someone and call them a see you next Tuesday, and then disappears again. And he hasn’t come back online. So what’s up with that? Well... we did a little digging.
Another spooky noise plays over the sound of Jade organizing a stack of papers.
JOEL: Daaaaaaang. I’d say those are some fightin' words, especially from someone who keeps pulling a vanishing act, don’t ya think?
JADE: They really are! I mean, he is from New Zealand, but even so, I think you don’t use that word unless you want to attract some attention. -She clicks her tongue as she gets back on topic- The video was originally posted the night before Halloween of last year, by @ime.are on Twitter. Obviously they got a lot of hate and questions after posting this, but all of them were left unanswered. The only person in the video that was tagged was Major, but upon further examination, this Ime seems to follow and have pictures with someone who happened to be dressed as Kakashi that same night, which has led many to speculate that these ninjas are the same person.
JOEL: So we all know Halloween's a spooooky season. Perfect for parties and all that jazz. But all those costumes make it a perfect time for disguises. Was that even the real Major? Was the person who spit the real Major? Who is this Ime and how do they fit into the story? And who— a pause for dramatic effect and muffled laughter as he tries to stay serious— is this mystery ninja? Tell us more!
JADE: Alright, alright. So this mystery ninja goes by Abel, or @_kllledbycain on the Gram. At first glance, they look pretty much like every other TikTok e-boy; black and white photos, pet snake, the insinuation that they’re dead, whole nine yards.
JOEL: snorts when Jade announces their handle, and again at her eboy comment, wheezing. It's true, it's true!
JADE: And this stuff is so common right now, so nothing really raises any eyebrows, right? Right? Well, tell me, why would a Tik Tok goth go around beating the crap out of a random influencer? Stay tuned for the theory. First, we’re gonna take a step back and look at the whole situation, because, of course, it doesn’t end there.
JOEL: Ohhhh snap! I'm on the edge of my seat, and I bet our listeners are too.
JADE: [clears her throat] So if we go back to the original poster of the video, @ime.are, and we take a look at their Insta, who is on it but... @devinitely? Okay, so @devinitely is in the same place as @majored, clearly, and, for anyone that doesn’t know, she’s been doing a bunch of collabs with @loganvance. This places not one, not two, but three influencers all together in this place where weebs are running around assaulting people.
JOEL: Okay. Okay, I need to know! Where are they? What's bringing all these influencers together? Are @devinitely and @loganvance part of something much more sinister than it seems? [He makes a funny face at Jade and wiggles his fingers, before dropping his voice to a stage-whisper.] Is it some kind of twisted influencer cult?
JADE: Shhhh, Joel, spoilers.
JOEL: [He laughs.] Sorry, sorry!
JADE: [muffled laughter over the sound of more papers rustling.] So, any skeptics out there might say, oh, well, this Ime Are is just a lucky person who happens to be in the presence of more than one social media personality. However, Devin follows the weeb that may or may not have kicked Major's ass. And, according to a cast photo of Rocky Horror, on her boyfriend's Instagram, both the weeb in question and the hot man that tore the two apart were part of the cast. This would be a great time to mention that a link to the video is in the description, as are all the pictures from social media that I'm referencing.
JOEL: [to Jade but loud enough for the mic to pick it up at regular volume] Oh snap, you got everything together in a link? Like, I could click the link to check it out right now? — A pause as he does just that.— Woah, cryptwizzlers, she's not kidding. Click the link in bio, you won't be disappointed. Okay, Jade...hear me out. Given that it was Halloween, the night of nights. Do you think that...maybe it was all an elaborate event? Was it staged? Is any of this real?
JADE: Oh, my dear brother, always the skeptic. Don’t you think that it’s a bit much for him to stop posting entirely in order to get publicity? And we mustn’t forget the spitting on someone in South Dakota, that’s not exactly his brand. Unless he’s trying out something like Taylor Swift and Reputation but... I digress. No, I don’t think any of this is staged, and I’ll tell you why. Let’s go back to the weird cow print basement post. You know who also happened to post something about some cowboy party? Oh, um, Devin’s boyfriend? A picture of him, Devin, and Logan? Which... puts them and Major in the same place on the night that he disappeared.
JOEL: Not a skeptic! Just trying to get all these questions answered. —A laugh— You're right, that's 180 from the online presence he used to have. All theories aside, —a pause— I'd love to go to a cowboy party. Get me a glow-in-the-dark cowboy hat. You know they make 'em. —He laughs again, mouthing 'what?' to Jade.—
JADE: Oh, def. We're getting matching hats. Check out our merch in a few weeks —she laughs— Glow in the dark mothman themed cowboy hats, talk about a niche.
JOEL: Snap, we have to do that now, 'cause I want one real bad. But okay, back on track. This cowboy party. The origin of this theory, yeah? Oh snap...what were those three doing in the same place as Major? And all in cow print too? That's....majorly suspicious! [He trails off into laughter, his voice doing that wheezy thing when someone's trying to finish their sentence before cracking up. Recovering, he adds the following.] Wait, wait, wait. What about—
JADE: Yes, yes, yes. —she cuts Joel off as though he's finished his sentence, chuckling at his joke— Patience, my dear twin, we will get there. —the smile is evident in her voice—
JOEL: I feel like somehow, I ended up as your Padawan for this episode. — he laughs—
JADE: You heard it here, I'm absolutely schooling Joel this episode. — she laughs— First, we're going to backtrack all the way to the original poster again. You know we snooped their whole page, and they're pretty regularly posting pictures with this person, @rengaaay, who isn't an influencer but she makes some of those sick ass roller skating videos... this isn't sus, just cool, link in the description. —a slight pause as she tries to get back to her train of thought— Anyway, what is sus is that she tags two people in her photos all the time... But no joke guys check out their Insta profiles they look different in like every other picture. Which, uh, could just be editing but also could be something.... more sinister? Hold onto that thought.
JOEL: That's such a good handle, dang! Better than @lumberjoel, honestly. I have to say I'm jelly. We should get branded rollerskates, maybe @rengaaay can advertise for us if we ship them. JK...unless? —more laughter as he waits for Jade to get back on the train and pulls up the profiles in question to take a look for himself— Huh...is it editing? Are they masters of disguise? Makeup professionals? —He starts to say something else but is pretty sure he's figured out where Jade's going with this.— What could be more sinister than human chameleons?
JADE: [The sound of papers shuffling can be heard] Oh, yeah, so, it's weird but I think every time the siblings are in a pic together they look more like each other? I dunno if this really makes sense but seriously dudes check the post with this episode because it has a bunch of photos side by side and... yeah. You pull a photo of them by themself and it's like okay, I know what this dude looks like and then you put them side by side and... I dunno, makeup? Contacts? Cloning, mayhaps? And, just so that I'm not just holding on to one thing too much... check their post from August 12th, linked below. Their brother... doesn't have a shadow. Why would you edit that out of a photo? No way are they going that hard to be memelords.
JOEL: Okay, let me look at this. Wha— That's weird as hell. How much hair dye do these two use? Hm. Could be clones? —snaps his fingers—Definitely clones. —he snorts loudly, laughing before clearing his throat— Ahem, uh. No shadow? That's dedication! I dunno, maybe it's some new challenge for the 'gram. Oh...but wait. I found a video. Look, Jade. No shadow. In a video. What the—
JADE: A video, guys. —A moment of muffled laughter before her mic cuts out, but the sound of it clicking on again is followed almost immediately— This is a big family, guys, and a big weird one because their other brother @sleepyfinch... Okay, wait, he himself is pretty normal, super cute, shout out, but guys, ghouls, you know who he has tagged in a recent post? Yet another influencer. Except this one is from Italy? @gaborealis; essentially, he’s a medium, so if you didn’t believe that the supernatural were at play beforehand... buckle up.
JOEL: Wait, wait, I'm still on the video thing. Who has time to edit a video? —his voice cracks when he says video and he covers his laughter as he focuses—
JADE: [wheezing] Shut up —there is no malice in her voice, and she’s laughing too.—
JOEL: So weird, I love it. Oh snap— the @gaborealis? It's time to get ghosty! —echoes "ghosty" and hums the Cha Cha Slide tune for a couple seconds— Okay, so wait. Does this mean everyone's favorite medium is also in the same place as...three? Three other influencers and this weird family of....maybe shapeshifters? No? Too crazy a theory?
JADE: You know what they say, cryptoddlers; no theory is too crazy. Everything Einstein came up with? Theory.
JOEL: Bringing Einstein into it, huh?
JADE: Oh you know it. —a snort— Anyway, according to Devin’s boyfriend’s Instagram, it doesn’t end there. @spencerkeahi, a youtuber and disability rights advocate who comes from Hawaii is also there with that gaggle. Shout out to @elidrising for tagging people and location. So what are these influencers from all corners of the globe gathering together for? Well, let’s take a look at the original poster again. You go on their Twitter, and a few months back it’s all just videos of people... fighting? In some sort of underground place. Mayhaps... the same creepy basement that Major posted his last photo? —a small gasp, as though she’s surprised by this— No, that must be a coincidence... or is it?
Another spooky sound plays
JOEL: @elidrising is the man, dang! Are you tellin' me there's a...—he lowers his voice to a whisper— secret influencers-only Fight Club? I wouldn't put it past @devinitely TBH. Honestly, I'd join one...even though I guess I've broken the first rule but talking about it, huh? Actually— Jay, do you think we'd even be allowed to join? Are podcasters influencers? Poll in my story right now, let us know what y'all think.
JADE: Right now? Joel, this isn’t going up for another week, at least. —She’s obviously trying to sound less amused than she’s coming off— Once we get the blue check we’re influencers, so we’ve got a few million followers to go, I think.
JOEL: Yeah, right now! They'll hear that when the episode goes up and respond in real ti— Oh, no. You're right. Oops. No poll in my story, y'all. False alarm. Blue check, huh? You heard it here, cryptwizzlers, we're gonna get that blue check. Tell your friends, tell your family. Heck, tell that cute barista at your coffee shop to listen to our podcast! We might just do a giveaway when we get that lil' blue swoosh.
JADE: [clears her throat.] You know what’s a great way to get us that blue check, though?
A different, light sort of spooky music begins playing in the background, meaning that it’s time for the ad break
JOEL: Take it away!
JADE: Checking out a little app called Creature Comforts. Alright guys, not that this show isn’t one hundred percent real as it is, but for real, I love this app. A dating sim that features everyone’s favorite... for lack of a better term, monsters. Did you watch the Shape of Water and go, “Damn, I’d tap that”? Do you want to snuggle with a Sasquatch? Do you just wish you could find yourself a GF with more eyes? Well, have we got the app for you. Creature Comforts lets you do all this and more. A choose-your-own-adventure game where you can smooch beasts, marry Mothman, and ignore the outside world. It’s seriously all I want. And, if you enter the code cryptwins— that’s the name of the podcast you’re listening to, no capital letters, when you download the app, then it’s only 99 cents to play without ads. Which, trust me ghouls, is worth it. I don’t want anything interrupting my cut scene with the most stunning eyes in West Virginia.
JOEL: Don't forget that scuba diving date with Nessie! Or, or...that half-day hike with Bigfoot. —he's laughing again smh— There's a reason Jade does the ad reads and not me. But, I can tell you that Mothman is sure to sweep you off your feet. And it's not just because he can fly.
JADE: It’s the —a pause for finger snapping— alliteration for me. But that’s Creature Comforts, exactly how you think you’d spell it, don’t ask us ‘cause we’re dyslexic, and cryptwins, like the name of this podcast. Tweet us @cryptwins to let us know how far along you are, who you’re pursuing, and what mysteries you unlock about their backstories. Now... I think it’s time for a timeline, just to get us sorted out, what do you think, Joel?
JOEL: Personally, I'm still tryin' to land a date with the Creature from the Black Lagoon. I guess we'll see what happens. Aw heck yeah! Give us a timeline, give us the dirt. — a laugh — Give the people what they want!
JADE: Okay — the shuffling of paper is heard once more — We start in September: @majored goes off the grid after posting a creepy picture of himself in a weird outfit in a spooky basement. This is around the same time that the Scarlet Surfer was in NYC for fashion week, which @majored accompanied him to, meaning that it isn’t entirely out of the question for him to still be in New York. Also on social media at this time is @devinitely and @loganvance also both is cowboy outfits, though the creepy basement is absent from both of them.
JOEL: I guess September isn't too early for weird Halloween stuff to start? What with the spooky basement and everything. Right? And everyone loves a cowboy moment— or have cowboys become the new clown? I heard there was a clown renaissance and people like them now? I don't really know where we stand on the whole clown— what?
JADE: I see our next hot debate. Cowboys: Hot or not? Personally, I liked cow print, but I can see cowboys going out soon. Once they reach killer clown status is when it’ll be ideal for me.
JOEL: Personally, I vote hot. And uhhh, not to kinkshame you Jay, but killer clowns are a no from me.
JADE: [tsks] Kinkshamed, by my own brother no less.
JOEL: [a loud laugh] You know I'm just kidding. No kinkshaking, ya heard? I'd literally let the Jersey Devil step on me so. To each their own.
JADE: [snorting] Um, gross.
JADE: Now to October: There is a production of Rocky Horror, a cast photo is uploaded to @elidrising, the account of @devinitely’s boyfriend. This places not only @devinitely and @loganvance in Montauk, but it also places @crispyboiz and @_kllledbycain in Montauk too. These are two of the people that are suspected to belong in the video by @ime.are, in which (suspected) @_kllledbycain, dressed as Kakashi Hatake attacked @majored, only to be torn apart by good citizen @crispyboiz. This video is the first that we’ve seen of @majored since his last post, and he offers nothing in response to it.
JOEL: Okay. Okay. Now, you know I love a good shadow-cast of Rocky Horror. I've always wanted to play Frank. I would rock that part. Am I wrong? —he laughs— But okay, that's - count 'em - three influencers in one place? If @elidrising is there, we can assume @devinitely is too because she was in the same location as, uh, whatshername? Logan? And that's the same location as @ime.are. Who took the video of  Kakashi kicking @majored's ass. @_kllledbycain— more like killedbyKakashi, eh? Seriously why are all these people together?
JOEL: [as an afterthought] It's gotta be a cult.
JADE: November to December: Nothing happens with @majored, @ime.are also offers nothing except for quote unquote “#teamkakashi”, which is funny because they never tagged Kakashi, but anyways. Upon deeper inspection, there are videos on their Twitter from last May, of people in a fighting ring. And then people fighting on a lake? But the fighting ring looks super dangerous and I dunno, like you said, cult-y? Fight-club-y? Call it what you will. In any case, we are led to believe that this fighting has been going on for some time in the background.
JOEL: Okay, come on. That’s definitely a cult. I’ve seen the movie, can confirm. — he groans— Literally what is an Italian astrologer doing there? Wait, wait, wait. Montauk? You said Montauk. Montauk, as in on Long Island. As in like —he drops his voice to a stage-whisper— the part of Long Island that peeps believe to be the site of a government cover-up involving kidnapping, mind control, and time travel? The part that inspired Stranger Things? That Montauk? Snap. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together sooner. Jade, Jade. What if this is, I don’t know, like, MKUltra 2.0?
JADE: Yes, yes that Montauk, I’m glad you picked up on that. Look, I’m not saying that it’s an influencer’s-only thing, but I am saying that some might be in the area, and maybe involved. At the same time throughout all of this, we have a culmination of more influencers seeming to know this network of people. @gaborealis, an Italian astrologer, is seen in pictures of @sleepyfinch, who was also in the production of Rocky Horror, and has pictures with @crispyboiz and, god, this name is a freaking nightmare, @_kllledbycain. Not to mention this guy has many pictures of weird… family members? Who sometimes look alike? Okay, but seriously, @kodakola and @sonofpeter, how is your hair not straw at this point? Is it wigs? I think my hair would simply fall out. And y’all using Insta filters or what, cause… I’m not gonna get into it, let’s keep going.
JOEL: Maybe they're makeup vloggers or something. Gotta change up the look for views, right? Don't forget to like, comment, subscribe and uhhhh, smash that follow button— or whatever YouTubers say. —he laughs— Okay but seriously, yeah. @sonofpeter, @kodakola, whatever you two are doing to your hair, let me know because I'm trying to bleach my hair and dye it bright purple without it falling out. And since we're doing it at our next stop, well, your advice will probably be too late. But still, what are your secrets? Is it...clones?
JADE: Joel! —she’s laughing again.— Timeline and then theories. —she clears her throat— After that long silence, a Tweet emerges. January 8th. "Can’t believe @majored SPAT on me and called me a C-Blank-Blank-T when he checked into @SDFamilyMotel last night”. This places Major across the country from where we believed him to be, but acting so strangely that one must wonder… was that really him? Or was it someone that just looked like him? Or was it a cry for help? Nothing’s been heard since from @majored, which I guess… leads us to our theories. —a pause— You were saying… clones, Joel?
JOEL: Sheeeeesh, this is not @majored's year. I gotta say, this sounds totally different from the vibe that this guy used to put out on his social media. Obviously Instagram is fake blah blah blah, you know the spiel, but like. Damn. He spit on them? —a pause as he considers what his sibling has said— You know....I think that's a really good point. Was that even the real him? Will the real Ed Major please stand up?
JADE: I know. It just seems out of character, and terrible for a reputation, but it also would make sense if... One, this is a fake @majored, meant to stir up controversy before he goes underground again. And with an action like spitting on someone and calling them a name like that? Who cares what the dude does after that? Unfollowed, cancelled, whatever. And why would this guy want to go underground, well, I'm glad you're so interested. Well, the official Cryptwins theory is that maybe... just maybe, the crazy, government cover-up Montauk that we all know and love isn't that far from truth. We see that they have means of covering up shadows —she lets out a laugh— and people whose faces just change? And who else is there, @spencerkeahi, someone who explains rehabilitation, maybe someone who has experience helping people get used to being a clone? @ime.are, a nurse who enjoys taking videos of people fighting? It all adds up, people!
JOEL: Yeah, seriously. With the real @majored MIA, there would be no one to combat the backlash from this supposed...clone? Imposter? And maybe that’s what they want. Looks like Montauk isn’t the ideal vacation spot anymore, huh? Even if their seaside cabins are super chill and homey. But I digress. Something sinister is going on. Something bigger than we can even imagine. A secret underground facility that’s...cloning influencers? Training them? Your guess is as good as mine. And that’s why we’re on this road trip, isn’t that right Jade? To get some answers?
JADE: Exactly. —it sounds as though she is holding back a laugh or a cough.— Cross country roadtrip in which we explore different topics like this one, and on the way, we'll document our progress and any spooky encounters. Check out our insta, @cryptwins to get all the updates, and consider hitting us up on Patreon if you want us to be able to afford the gas to get all the way to the east coast.
JOEL: I’ll be posting behind the scenes content in the “ROADTRIP” highlight on my Insta throughout the trip so be sure to check my stories. You might get lucky and find some special codes for Creature Comforts but, hey. You didn’t hear it from me. -he laughs and there’s the distinct sound of a bag of chips being opened- What Jade meant to say is gas and snack money. So yeah, go go go! Check out the Patreon! We might even do a giveaway at the end of our trip, get you guys some cool souvenirs we pick up on our travels. Not a bad idea, eh?
JADE: Joel, my ears are literally bleeding right now. Thanks. Anyway, our second theory will also be exclusive to our Patrons, so be sure to get the full video there. Cryptwins... out...
Her voice fades out and the music from the beginning fades in, takes over, and plays until the end of the track.
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Note
Hey!
I saw you asked for requests, so how about some Redfinch and/or platonic Ralbert? Basically just Albert and the guys that make him all comfy and happy :-)
Hey, thank you very much for this request, I had so much fun writing this and I hope it turned out alright.
It’s called “A study in being subtle” and it’s basically Redfinch testing the waters of their relationship while Race is trying to help Albert with his biology homework. It’s a modern AU.
I hope you enjoy it,
Sincerely, me,
Lélodie
-----
Albert's head was spinning. He looked down at the notes Race was making while trying to explain to him how photosynthesis worked. Biology was one of the subjects Al hated the most but he had thought that maybe Race's presence would make it more bearable. And indeed, sitting next to Race in Biology class was a lot of fun but on the downside, he was too easily distracted to really understand what the teacher was saying.
The good thing was that Race was – even though he sometimes had the mental state of a little child – a genius when it came to science. So of course, they met up at Al's house today after school so they could do their homework together. Al just hoped that they would be finished before Finch arrived.
A smile graced his lips at the thought of his boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word still seemed a bit foreign in his mind. They hadn't been together for that long, nearly two months now, and they hadn't even told their friends that they were dating. Albert was always really careful when it came to relationships, considering that he hadn't even completely figured out his sexuality, and Finch respected that.
“... and that's it, basically. Easy peasy.” Satisfied with his conclusion, Race took a sip of his water and glanced over at Albert, only now realising that the redhead hadn't even been listening to him. “Al? You okay?”
“Mh, what? Yes, totally. Photosynthesis. Plants producing oxygen. Got it.” Contrary to his words, Albert's smile faltered while he let his gaze wander over the notes on the topic.
Race sighed deeply, taking an unlit cigarette from his pocket and put it between his lips, presumably to calm down. “Did you understand at least one of the things I've been trying to explain to you?”
“Of course!” Al retorted, maybe a bit too harsh. Yet, he couldn't help it. Languages came easy to him. Languages, sports, dancing, literally anything except for mathematics and biology and physics. He even understood a little chemistry on good days. But obviously not understanding anything made him feel weird, as if he wasn't enough and then, there was this urge to prove himself. Albert groaned and put a hand on Race's shoulder as a sign of being sorry for nearly snapping. “I understood the words you said,” he answered then.
Race laughed at that. “Well, that's something. But seriously, where was the point where it got too complicated?”
Al opened his mouth to answer but didn't get the chance to say anything because right at this moment, the doorbell rang. Confused, Al looked up. His parents weren't going to be home until at least eight in the evening and it wasn't even four yet. “I'll be right back,” he said, standing up and running down the stairs to get to the front door. Hesitantly, he opened it. The smile that had left his lips at the thought of his homework came back in an instant. “Finch,” he exclaimed, throwing his arms around the other boy.
“Hey, Al,” Finch answered, holding him tightly. “I know I'm early but my dance teacher got sick, so I had no class today and you know that sitting around, simply waiting, makes me antsy.”
“And here I thought you came early because you wanted to see me,” Albert said when the hug was over, followed by a bold wink.
“I thought that was already implied. Anyway, am I interrupting you or something? I can still come back later.”
“No, no, it's fine. It's just -” Al threw a look over his shoulder, then looked back at his boyfriend. He lowered his voice a bit. “Race is helping me with our bio homework. So maybe...”
“Got it. No couple-y stuff.” Finch nodded, intertwining their fingers for a moment to press a kiss on the back of Al's hand and let go.
Albert was certain that his face was as red as his hair. “Yes.” Hastily, so that Finch wouldn't notice him blushing, he closed the door behind the other boy and led him up to his bedroom, where Race was playing some game on his phone.
At the sound of footsteps, Race looked up. “Oh, hey, Finch. Didn't know you'd be here, too. Do you also need help with biology?”
“I am in a different course but if I need help with something, I'll let you know. Coming here was more of a spontaneous decision,” Finch answered, greeting Race with a small hug that didn't last nearly as long as the one he'd had with Al.
“So,” Al started, sitting down next to Race at his desk, after having brought another chair for Finch. “You wanted to know where it got too complicated for me, right?”
Again, Race tried to explain the topic to Al, this time with some comments from Finch, which were unexpectedly helpful most of the time. After a while though, Al got distracted once again. Since his desk wasn't that big, Finch was sitting very near, leaning unconsciously into his personal space to take a look at the notes that Race used for his explanations.
Being aware of Finch, right there, next to him, Al wanted nothing more than to lean back against his chest, feeling his warmth against his back, his touch against his skin. So he did just that. Slowly, so that Race wouldn't notice anything, he leaned back against Finch. The redhead could hear Finch's heart skipping a beat and smiled shyly, trying to concentrate on Race's words.
He was relieved upon realising that when he actually listened to what Race said, he was able to understand at least the basics of the topic.
Then, he felt fingers trailing up his arm, soft touches, barely noticeable. Finch's breath was tickling his neck and Albert nearly let out a dreamy sigh as his boyfriend pressed a feather-light kiss against his skin. Carefully, Al looked at Race but he was busy adding some facts to his former notes.
Feeling daring, all of a sudden, Al decided to go a step further.
He remembered the conversation they'd had, right at the beginning of their relationship. Both of them knew that Albert was a person that craved touch, yet it was also a known fact that Albert didn't exactly consider himself being allosexual. Of course, he appreciated the aesthetics of other people and enjoyed cuddling or little touches, yet he hadn't ever felt the need to get sexual with anyone. Therefore, they had decided to start their relationship rather slowly. Maybe trying some things and seeing how both would react to them.
Naturally, it had been a surprise for both of them when Al had suddenly, during a really soft make-out-session, exclaimed that he wouldn't mind taking the relationship into sexual territory carefully as long as it was Finch who was by his side. They hadn't done anything but still, the fact that both of them weren't opposed to intimate touches was something they were aware of.
Still a bit hesitant, Al let his hand wander until it rested on Finch's upper thigh. He could hear Finch holding his breath for a moment and looked back at him with a smug smile. Finch was also wearing a little smile but it was obvious that he was torn between not doing anything Al would later regret and keep playing the little game of doing things while Race was seemingly oblivious to it.
“Do you think we can move on to doing the homework or is there still something that's not clear to you?” Race's sudden question made Al turn his head, maybe a bit too abrupt and he hoped that Race wasn't able to see his hand that was still resting on Finch's thigh – too high to be explained with a platonic reason.
“No, I got it. I think we can move on to the task,” Albert answered honestly.
“Okay, I'm just gonna get the sheet,” Race said, facing away from the both of them to search for his homework in his bag.
Albert nearly yelped when he felt Finch's hand on his cheek, turning his head to face him again. One heartbeat later, Finch was kissing him directly on the mouth.
“Oh, there it is.” Albert cursed Race in his head for finding his sheet that quickly because the kiss ended as suddenly as it had begun so that their friend wouldn't notice anything.
Actually solving the tasks they had to do turned out to be easy on the one hand and really difficult on the other hand. While writing his answers, Al kept thinking of what to do about Finch since it was now his turn to play the game. But he couldn't come up with something, instead trying to get the homework done as quickly as possible so he could be alone with Finch.
He was tired of keeping his hand in place on Finch's thigh, so in the end he settled for putting it in Finch's hand instead. After a while, when Race and Al were discussing one of the last questions, he felt Finch starting to massage his palm and he feared that he'd never be able to stop smiling.
It seemed as if ages had passed before Race and Al finally finished their homework and Race was packing his stuff together. “Are you staying here, Finch?” Race asked, zipping up his bag.
Finch nodded, causing Race to look at him, then at Albert, then at their joined hands. “Wait a moment,” the blond started, seemingly confused, then kind of sceptic. “Are you two holding hands?”
Al was at a loss of words, not sure what to answer but Finch was just laughing. “We're not holding hands. I'm just massaging his hand.”
“A very platonic gesture, I might add,” Al chimed in, retrieving his hand back from Finch's grip. “I've read that platonic massaging was good for... you know. Your health and such. Biology. You're the expert on that, don't you know that?” The redhead knew that he was trying a bit too hard but he kind of liked what he had with Finch. Just the two of them. He didn't want to let anybody in on their relationship just yet.
Not only Finch but Race as well looked at him with a funny face. “Yeah, of course, how could I ever forget the healing power of platonic massaging,” Race eventually stated, taking his bag and standing up. “I'll find the door myself. I hope I could help you at least a little bit.”
“Definitely. Thanks for the help, I owe you something,” Albert said and the two of them hugged.
“Oh, don't mention it. It was also a good revision for myself. Bye, Finch” Race hugged Finch as well, then looked at both of them for a long moment. “Have a fun evening and don't do anything I wouldn't do.” He said with a grin, put his cigarette between his lips and left the room.
Albert only dared to breathe again when he heard the front door opening and closing. “Well, that was...”
“Interesting,” Finch finished his sentence as if he'd known exactly what Al wanted to say.
The redhead nodded. “That's one way to put it. Do you think he noticed something?”
“I'm not sure. Between your babbling about platonic massages with healing powers and me trying not to jump you – a platonic gesture, of course – I couldn't see if he was oblivious or just polite,” Finch answered with a smug smile and laughed when Al punched his shoulder lightly.
“I panicked!”, Al said. The sound of his phone distracted him for a moment and he pulled it out of his jeans, only to see that he had two messages from Race.
Al, you're my best friend and I love you to death but you're not only bad at biology but also at being subtle.
Also, you two are totally my new OTP and I'll support you no matter what. I won't say anything to anybody. Have fun!
“Told you so,” Finch said when Al read the messages out loud.
Al let out a sigh and put his head on Finch's shoulder. “Maybe learning to be subtle should be the next point on my to-do-list.”
“I thought the next point on your to-do-list was me,” Finch answered with a laugh.
“Why do I even put up with you?” Al tried to suppress a laugh and failed. Then, he put his arms around Finch, debating with himself if his boldness from before was a one-time-thing or if he might take Finch's comment seriously.
He took his time thinking and all this time Finch was right there, waiting for him, just happy being together.
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ladyreapermc · 4 years
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Fic: About the Bass (Keanu x F!Reader)
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Summary: seeing Keanu playing the bass is one of the hottest things you’ve witnessed.
Pairing: Keanu x F!Reader
Author’s notes: do I really need to say how much I love Keanu playing the bass? It’s one of my kinks and this definitely is a product of that. Feedback is very welcome!
Wordcount: 1702
Warnings: mentions of alcohol and age gap.
You moved through the small gathering of people, a margarita in your hand – your third and last of the night – offering smiles and pausing to chat. It was your birthday and everyone seemed to be trying to speak to you, which was certainly lovely. You liked the attention, but you couldn’t help the disappointment burning in your chest.
You hadn’t expected to be thrown a surprise party. You were pretty sure you actively said to your younger sister that you didn’t really want to make a big deal out of it. To you, turning thirty was just like any other year. But apparently, she was incapable of listening, because she planned the entire thing and roped Keanu into not only helping to make sure you were kept in the dark but also into opening his house to a bunch of strangers.
You were going to have some words with her about it because she shouldn’t have asked that of Keanu. The two of you had only been friends for a few months, ever since Company Films hired you to work on a few scripts they were producing. You knew how much he valued his privacy. His house should have been off-limits.
Thankfully, the party was finally winding down. Happy Birthday had been sung, the cake had been cut and guests were finally leaving, saying their goodbyes to you, before slipping out. Looking around the small crowd of people that still lingered, you tried to catch a glimpse of his dark hair, but he didn’t seem to be around.
You excused yourself from one of your friends and wandered around the unfamiliar hallways until you found him in the music room, eyes closed, headphones on as he played a silent tune on his bass. You leaned against the frame to watch him, the way his long fingers moved over the strings so expertly; the little from of concentration and how he bobbed his head to the tune only he could hear. You had to smile because he looked both adorable and unbelievably attractive like that.
You realized you had a major crush on Keanu probably after the second week of working with him, doctoring the script for the next movie he would be directing. He was funny and sweet and so brilliant. It was next to impossible not to be smitten by him.
You convinced yourself it was stupid and hopeless because he was technically your boss and so much older than you. Not that you really cared about that, but you knew the press would buzz about it and besides, there was no way he would be interested, right?
Or so you thought until you started noticing all the little things. The glances whenever Keanu thought you weren’t looking; the way he smiled at you, soft and gentle, his entire facing lighting up and creases marking around his eyes. The little gestures whenever you were working together; like bringing you coffee when you didn’t even realize you needed or always ordering your favorite takeouts, even if he didn’t particularly care for it…
Part of you still wondered if you weren’t reading too much in this. You knew he was one of the sweetest, nicest guys in Hollywood. Maybe he was just being the perfect gentleman. But those things still planted the seed of hope in your chest. As a matter of fact, when he invited you for dinner and a movie to celebrate your birthday tonight you were planning on talking to him, checking where you both stood, but the surprise party really crashed your plans.
“Hey. How long have you been standing there?”
Keanu’s voice startled you back from your musings and your gaze focused on him again, noticing he had stopped playing and stood there with his headphones around his neck, a flush on his cheeks and a sheepish smile on his lips.
“Not long,” you replied with a smile of your own and stepped into the room. “I just wanted to let you know that people are starting to leave. You should have your house back in an hour or so. By the way, you really shouldn’t have let my sister get you into this.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugged, that soft smile adorning his lips and your heart fluttered. “Sorry I disappeared, it’s just…”
“Too much people start getting on your nerves?” you asked and Keanu chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, me too. Anyway, whatever you were playing, it looked good.”
“Well it sounded terrible,” he said with a small grimace, ducking his head self-consciously. “I’m rusty. It’s been a while since I played.”
“You miss it? Dogstar and Becky?” You leaned against the arms of one of the armchairs.  
“Sometimes,” he shrugged, starting to pull off the strap of the bass.
“Wait. Play me something,” you requested and Keanu snorted, shaking his head.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m rusty.”
“Oh, come on! It’s my birthday.” You pouted at him, knowing very well he never resisted long. “Pretty, pretty please?”
“How about I teach you instead?” he offered and you nodded.
“But I have to warn you, I’m tone-deaf,” you commented as he removed the headphones and connected the bass to a speaker.
You moved to stand in front of him when he beckoned you. Keanu settled the strap of the bass on your shoulder before he adjusted the length so the red body of the bass hung at your hips.
“How’s that? Should I shorten it a little more?” he asked moving behind you and settling his hands over yours.
There were so many thoughts running through your head at once but at the same time, you seemed completely unable to focus on any of them. Your entire body was intuned to Keanu’s and as he came closer, you were engulfed by the flow of sensations.
“It’s… uh… fine,” you stuttered.
“Good thing you’re a leftie too. Gonna make this easier.”
His left hand guided yours to the neck of the bass, adjusting your fingers at the right position, pressing them against the strings. You could feel the old callouses on the pad of his fingers, speaking of a lifetime of working with his hands, be it by playing instruments, working out or handling fake guns, it all left its toll on his hands.
The sensation was foreign but not unwelcome, just like you welcomed the warmth of his palm and how large it was, something you had always noticed, but seeing it covering yours like this was making your throat dry and sending very bad thoughts flying through your brain.
Of course, you knew Keanu was a big man. It was impossible not to notice. He was tall, with broad shoulders, strong chest and long limbs. You felt tiny in comparison and more than once you wondered how it would feel to be surrounded by his warm embrace like you were having a chance to experience just now.
“This is an A,” Keanu said, strumming the strings with his pick.
His words ghosted against your cheek and you caught a whiff the alcohol in his breath and it was strangely addictive. You could feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne. It was wooden and spicy, with an underlying musk that you knew it must be Keanu’s unique scent and it was making your head spin.
You didn’t know if this was the best or worst idea the two of you ever had because it almost felt like sweet torture to be this close. He moved your fingers against the strings, showing you another chord, but all you could focus was at the feel of his hard chest against your back; his strong arms around you; those long, nimble fingers over yours.
“Am I boring you?” Keanu asked, his baritone against your ear sending shivers down your spine and there was no way he didn’t feel that. “Maybe we should stop.”
“No,” you breathed out, tilting your head up to look at him, catching on his darkened eyes and the way he licked his lips as he stared down at you. You felt heat rushing through you, arousal and alcohol making you dizzy.
There was no denying now; no pretending that it was just your imagination. Not when Keanu was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole and all you could think was having his mouth on you.
“This is a bad idea…” he whispered but guiding you with his hands to turn around and face him.
“Probably,” you sighed, letting go of the bass to rest your hands against his chest, looking into his eyes. “But sometimes the best things come from the worst ideas.”
The air felt thick with tension, the silence heavy with so many unspoken things as Keanu just stared at you and you wondered what his next step would be. It felt like it was happening in slow motion, the way he leaned closer, his hand coming to cradle your nape, tilting your face up at just the right way so you could properly welcome his mouth on yours. His lips slightly chapped against your soft ones, fitting almost perfectly; his beard tickling your nose.
You let your lips part under his, welcoming his tongue, tasting the beer he had all night, mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate cake. It was delicious and you tried to press closer, chasing his taste, but before either of you could go any further, someone cleared their throat, making both of you jump startled and breaking the mood.
“Sorry to interrupt,” your sister said with an arched eyebrow and a smirk and you couldn’t help but glare. “A couple of people want to say goodbye.”
“Yeah,” you said, voice raspy like you have been in the desert for too long.
You untangled yourself from the bass strap and Keanu, stifling the pitiful sound threatening to spill from your throat at the sudden loss. Your eyes met him when you were backing away, and you could see all the want and need you felt yourself.
‘Later,’ You mouthed at him and Keanu smiled, giving you a quick nod, before turning his back to you so he could put his bass away.
xxx
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zachsgamejournal · 3 years
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COMPLETED: Resident Evil 7
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This is the most I've enjoyed a Resident Evil since RE2 on PS1. May actually like it more than Code Veronica...
I kinda hated the freight ship section. By this point, I felt the game was done. But the designers were like: Nope, we're gonna have an environment as large as all previous sections combined, more enemies to face, start your gear at zero, and halfway through, make you replay areas via a flashback that's length to story ratio is 100:1.
The remote bombs were...a weird addition. I could place them on the floor, but not...you know...toss them. For like, when you're being assaulted by slimy monsters with shark teeth...And still, the game gives you a ton of them!
Turns out, I wasn't far from the end of the freight ship. So that was good. Then we end up at the salt mine. Turns out Lucas was just playing along...weird. So he got his arm cut off and everything on purpose? Like, he's a legit psycho?
I'm really confused about where the fetuses with curing abilities are coming from...ah well.
So we get some background info: Eveline was a fetus that was mutated to have super powers. She could infect folks, and cause hallucinations: presenting herself has a young girl. She, having never had a childhood, wants a family--so takes over a family and has them kidnap folks to add to their "family", but she's a psychotic child raised by other psychos, so everyone under her influence ends up violent and cruel.
And she vomits up monsters, or something...
Into the salt mine. I thought this was gonna be another section of exploring and puzzle solving, but it's actually quite linear. Seems they designed it to be the action section since they constantly send you up against molded, and drop healing items and ammo EVERYWHERE! I didn't need that because I had amassed so many healing items and weapons by playing frugally.
It's just like when I replayed Resident Evil 1--early on every zombie is life or death, and every bullet and herb is precious. But by the end, you become Terminator, can't die and tons of ammo.
There's a spiral climb at one point, and I just ran from everything. If you move quick enough, it's pretty clear of enemies. First molded was an easy side step. The second was a crawler and he trapped me on a catwalk. I was getting hit from behind, so had to kill that one. The third guy was just a walker, so I shot him once to get him to stumble, making the walk around easy.
And that was it. Salt Mine done. Which I was thankful, cause that damn tanker section!!
So we end up at the beginning, in the old house, reliving some Mia interactions via hallucinations. Not worried, cause I'm more well armed than an American Police force with more medicine than a...uh, pharmacy...I guess.
The phase one fight with Eveline was...unimpressive. But it was more about the story...I guess? I'm torn between being done with the game, and expecting a boss-fight on par with previous ones. But alas, we simply stab old-lady Eveline (nice twist) in the neck with a cure. She asks, "Why does everyone hate me" -- heart breaking, then talks about how it hurts. Almost as emotionally confusing as the end of Alien Resurrection.
But then...phase 2.
Instead of dying, Eveline turns into a giant tentacle monster. I guess it's inevitable that Resident Evil end on a ridiculous note. As grounded as much of the game is, they had to go big. But it's a pretty lame fight. You just shoot at mega-Eveline until a helicopter drops you special gun (Kind of like Brad dropping a rocket launcher at the end of Resident Evil 1 - wink, wink).
So she dies...for realz this time. And Chris Redfield appears in an Umbrella Helicopter. I'm glad he's not mega-Chris from Resident Evil 5, but he also doesn't look "his age". I don't know, seemed like unnecessary name dropping, but also no harm, no foul. Ethan hops in the chopper, finding Mia alive. Aw, so it is a love story!
But then the game gives this cheesy epilogue, blaming Eveline for being horrible--even calling her an "it". And then talks about how Mia just wants to put everything behind her. Everything being that Mia worked for a shady organization making horrible bio-weapons, and as part of her duties, helped hold a traumatized child captive and then attempted to kill her when the girl inevitably escaped??
Eveline was the real victim in this story. She did horrible things because she was child that wasn't properly loved and raised. No shit she wants to build a family. Her saying, "Why does everyone hate me", heartbreaking. I have kids. They're selfish, violent, impulsive bastards sometimes--but they're really sweet and just need people to love them.
Eveline wasn't given love. She was given orders, and restrictions. No surprise that she lashed out, and she did so in the ways she could: vomiting up molded zombies and possessing people.
So bosses...talk about unbalanced.
Boss 1: I had a single clip of ammo, maybe two healing items, and a pocket knife. All got used really quickly. I think you're not supposed to shoot him, just get the car keys. But it was confusing and intense, because I didn't know what to do. CHALLENGE: 3/5.
Boss 2: Jack again, but now it gets real. Moving around is awkward, and the second half involves a chainsaw duel. I used up at least 10 rounds of shotgun shells, all my healing items, and died at least 10 times trying to beat this boss. I almost switched to easy. CHALLENGE: 5/5.
Boss 3: Marguerite as a crazy bug lady. This was kind of the scariest battle, as she drops in out of nowhere and from behind. And if you don't constantly attack her, she sends bugs after you. This one drove me a bit nuts, but eventually I found the winning strategy. CHALLENGE: 4/5.
Boss 4: Super molded. I basically hid around the corner of the elevator and used all my shotgun shells on it. A few shots from the pistol and the thing was down. Not sure I even took damage. CHALLENGE: 1/5.
Boss 5: Mutant Jack. He was so big that he couldn't move around and hide like previous bosses. I maybe was hit once or twice, but it was nothing. The eyes were obvious weak points. CHALLENGE: 2/5.
Boss 6ish: Two Super-Moldeds. Kind of reminds of the big infected guys from The Last of Us. While they killed me the first time (very quickly), on my second attempt, I kept the elevator between us and used all my grenade launcher ammo against them (which I had been saving). They didn't touch me. CHALLENGE: 2/5.
Eveline Phase 1: Walk towards her, block when she shock waves. Timing was semi awkward. I died once. CHALLENGE: 1/5.
Eveline Phase 2: Shoot at a giant target that doesn't appear to do any actual damage. Could have been a cutscene. CHALLENGE: 1/5.
It's so weird that the hardest bosses were at the beginning. I guess this is where you have consider experience vs challenge. But for survival horror, challenge is part of the experience. You're supposed to be scared of bosses.
I think the final Eveline battle should have the player running through the swamp. Eveline's tentacles swimming after you, and in front of you, giving birth to molded with familiar faces (Like Mia) to freak you out. And that keeps happening until the player is out of ammo and healing supplies. Once you've used your last heal and bullet, Chris Redfield snipes the molded. You watch as the Eveline Mass rises to attack the helicopter. Chris takes aim with the Wesker gun, fires a shot at a tentacle arm--it calcifies and shatters! Eveline freaks out and smacks the chopper, sending the gun flying to the ground. You see it 10 yards away. You run to it, grab it, turn--Mia appears before you. "I'm one with her now. If you kill her, we'll never be together." If you hesitate too long, Mia kills you. If shoot, she shatters--Eveline attacks, final few shots: END.
Ah well. It was a good game and I'll probably play it again. I could see this being a semi-regular replay for me, right there with RE1 and RE2.
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