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yanderes-galore · 2 months

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I was going to do this at some point but others also wanted it... so! CatNap time! This is my version like with DogDay, so maybe read that one first to understand my AU? Pure brainrot, barely proofread, there may be mistakes.

🌙Yandere! CatNap Concept🌙

🐱(My Version)🐱

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Drugging/Gassing, CatNap watches you sleep, Manipulation, Slight sadism, Blood, Implied murder, Slight gore, Forced companionship.

I'm just going to say this, the first thing I read about CatNap is he likes watching his friends sleep.

So that's how this starts.

As usual, CatNap has a cartoon/plush form and a monster form in my AU.

I talk a bit more about this in the DogDay concept.

CatNap, in his more innocent plush form, is docile, gentle, bashful, and highly impressionable according to the wiki.

CatNap can have an eerie presence but he is usually very calming.

He prioritizes proper rest, especially towards you.

When left all alone in Playcare, he becomes a hunting beast who worships The Prototype.

He's not Theo in this version, he's his own thing.

He's sadistic and enjoys the hunt in his more beastly form.

However... he isn't heartless... as in this concept he cares for you a lot.

Let's use this concept just to discuss his overall behavior like I did in the last one.

CatNap's plush/cartoon form still manages to get up to just about the waist of an adult on two legs.

Although the cat also likes to roam on four legs.

CatNap has a lavender smell in his fur, a scent known to calm and put others to sleep.

Although... that isn't exactly what he uses to put you to sleep.

Like in canon, CatNap has the ability to release Poppy Gas from his lungs.

Said gas creates hallucinations and even puts the target asleep.

CatNap likes it when his best friend sleeps....

So, the purple cat often likes to crawl on your lap, release some of the gas, and puts you to sleep as he nuzzles into you with a purr.

Yes, I feel I want to make CatNap purr in my version.

CatNap likes to wrap his long tail around you and follows you around loyally.

He wants to make you happy, healthy, and full of energy!

The only way to do that is a good night's sleep, right?

So let him help you.

CatNap definitely also uses his lavender scent to calm you, too.

He just wants his friend to hold him and sleep...

He'll watch over you like a good friend should.

Then there's the monster form.

He's still very dedicated to you, even when he roams the area like a stalking cat.

CatNap watches over you like a hawk, a caretaker at heart.

In his larger form he looks more unnerving, crawling on all fours like huge hunting cat.

He carefully stalks prey (and you) in the shadows, disorienting them with Poppy Gas before striking.

Unlike DogDay he doesn't bother hiding his predatory nature.

He doesn't care if blood or bits of flesh stain his purple fur when he eats.

His lavender scent still lingers despite the dirty blood smell when he's near you.

The large cat often tries to curl around you in his larger form, purring softly as he encourages you to sleep.

If you try to leave his long tail prevents it... he'll even give you Poppy Gas if you still struggle.

If you think about it... CatNap would be very similar to Moon from FNAF... except CatNap is more... religious?

Speaking of that, CatNap may view you as a gift from The Prototype.

His god has rewarded him for his loyalty!

He'll cherish you as his Best Friend....

CatNap would not hurt you as he views you as his gift and Best Friend.

He often swaps between his smaller cartoon/plush form and his monster form.

If he isn't on a hunt and doesn't want to scare you... he'll swap to his more docile form and encourage you to hold him.

Admittedly... his purr and lavender scent is enough to make you want to sleep anyways.

CatNap is mostly sadistic towards others, like DogDay and the other Critters if they were still alive somehow.

CatNap is possessive of his newfound pal.

He growls and hisses when you try to leave or if you mention any other Toy Mascot.

Even if you did escape, CatNap is hot on your tail, stalking you from the shadows.

Next thing you know the room you're in fills with red mist... you start to hallucinate... the last thing you see before you collapse is the monstrous form of a predatory cat.

Then you wake up back where you once were... with a purple plush cat wrapped in your arms purring away.

It looks like you aren't leaving the claws of CatNap after all....

#yandere poppy playtime #yandere smiling critters #yandere catnap

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makeste · 5 months

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BnHA Chapter 407: Wait Why Are You Running Away

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan figured out how to control his quirk upgrade and was totally chill and normal about it. Definitely not terrifying at all. He actually spent the entire chapter smiling and laughing like the wholesome little boy he is. I don’t know why Kid For One is so freaked out about it. He even politely introduced himself using his childhood nickname. Clearly he just wants to be friends with you, KFO!

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “sorry to keep you waiting, here’s the AFO and Yoichi flashback you ordered at long last” and proceeds to serve a nightmarish stew of HUMAN MISERY and RATS and STABBING and CARNAGE and SO MUCH MURDER and THE SINGLE MOST FUCKED-UP CASE OF CODEPENDENCY ANYONE HAS EVER WRITTEN. I was not even remotely prepared for any of this, and if anyone else claims that they were, I will call you a liar to your face. If this chapter had a mouth it would scream. Or just sob, ceaselessly and uncontrollably. I’m really glad Horikoshi is on break next week because that man needs to take a fucking nap. My god.

okay WOW

anyone else read the first two words and just immediately say to themselves, “oh okay, so it’s gonna be one of those chapters”? I mean, I guess we were due for a darker chapter after last week’s Kacchan Comedy Tour. but idk, I just wasn’t expecting “homeless sick prostitute with a drinking problem” levels of dark

AND SHE’S PREGNANT?!

what exactly is this manga rated again? doesn’t this backstory seem just a little bit raw for the impressionable kiddos??

has anyone actually checked in on Horikoshi recently? you know, just to make sure he is okay??

what a fun and wholesome manga this is

the lil baby arm covered in blood with the AFO hole on the palm. lying next to the dead mom hand. what an image to sear into our minds. I guess it’s been a while since he killed any dogs. gotta keep us on our toes somehow

also wasn’t expecting AFO and Yoichi to be twins! that puts an interesting spin on their relationship, because it’s usually a closer bond than even regular siblings. especially with all of that delightful shared trauma from a young age!!

yes, exactly

ohhhh this chapter is gonna hurt me, isn’t it. okay. ooooooookay. let’s do this

OH I’M SORRY, THERE’S MORE?!

Horikoshi my dude. you do realize that their mom dying in childbirth and the two of them just barely surviving and growing up as street orphans would have already been MORE than tragic enough, backstory-wise. you did not have to turn this into a freaking horror show with RATS TRYING TO EAT THEIR NEWBORN SELVES jesus christ

and THAT’S where you chose to put a one year timeskip?!

what the fuck am I reading here, you guys. no please tell me, I am actually desperate to understand

so the narrator is saying that some of the quirks manifested later in life, in “pubescent and pre-pubescent stages”, which is interesting because it’s the first time I can recall hearing about someone actually manifesting a quirk that late. maybe Deku’s old OFA cover story was more plausible than I realized

anyway so eventually it occurred to everyone that they should maybe freaking study this shit, idk. and eventually the researchers concluded that the superpowers came from a new gene that apparently isn’t human. and upon hearing that, society apparently lost its freaking mind. which is fascinating to me because it implies that the turning point wasn’t actually the superpowers themselves, but the realization of what it meant

like, so they were apparently fine with it when they thought it was a “mysterious disease”, but somehow it hit different when they learned it wasn’t actually a sickness at all, but instead the Next Step in Evolution. and it became an “us vs them” thing, as opposed to a “we have to cure these poor people” thing. damn

anyway so now Japan is a dystopia and we’re cutting to a big crowd of merc-looking dudes who are getting ready to attack some “meta freaks”, how lovely

but who is this figure in the shadows

I ask politely, as if it wasn’t already beyond obvious that this is AFO about to wreck some people’s shit

ohhhhh my god lmao

hopefully Katsuki and Deku can take the present day AFO out before he winds up looking like this. because this little fella is clearly demonic and idk if anyone can stop him

you all don’t understand. you need to run the fuck away right now

oh shit it’s already too late for them

it’s too late for any of us. it’s over. it’s all fucking over

((((；゜Д゜)))

AFO I am putting the manga down. I am backing away slowly with my hands in the air. I mean you no harm. please for the love of god have mercy

holy

“you see, we told you he wasn’t human” okay Scientific Research Group, you know what?? you win this round I guess

“HE WAS LITERALLY EVIL FROM BIRTH” HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY ARE YOU OKAY??

HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY is literally the most terrifying sentence I have ever read

what the entire fuck

it’s a gorgeous sunny mid-November afternoon outside my window. but no matter how hard it tries, the light cannot reach this place

what kind of moron would throw a can of soda at him. officially the stupidest person we have ever seen in this manga

OH MY GOD OF COURSE IT’S HIM LMAO

(ETA: how come baby Yoichi has clothes that fit him perfectly but baby AFO is just stomping around wearing a tablecloth.)

BABY YOICHI. OH MY GOD. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GROW UP TO BE SANE AND KIND AND GOOD. THAT’S MY QUESTION THAT I NEED ANSWERED RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE LITERALLY A MIRACLE. YOU ARE AN IMPOSSIBILITY, DO YOU KNOW THAT

small and weak, but also so, so cute. all of the cuteness genes went straight to him. no wonder AFO was jealous

(ETA: just want to press pause for a second to speculate about what type of twins AFO and Yoichi are, since it has some relevance to the story, and especially to the OFA/AFO quirk lore. so! at first glance the two of them would appear to be fraternal twins, just based on the fact that they have very different appearances, and also the fact that Yoichi doesn’t have the AFO quirk – no holes in his hands, etc. identical twins are born from the same fertilized egg, so in theory they would both have the same sequence of DNA, which means Yoichi would have had the same quirk as AFO. but that doesn’t appear to be the case. so all of that points to them being fraternal, not identical.

on the other hand, there is one piece of evidence in this chapter that does support them being identical twins, and that’s the fact that per the narration, AFO absorbed most of the nutrients from their mother. a few minutes of google fu informed me that this condition is relatively rare, and only happens in cases where two twins share a placenta, which typically is only the case for identical twins. HOWEVER, for what it’s worth, there have also been rare instances where two fraternal twin placentas fuse together and become a single placenta. AND this apparently also increases the chances of one of the twins gaining more of the nutrients and causing the other twin to have a lower birth weight.

so based on the evidence here, my conclusion is that the two of them are most likely fraternal twins with a case of placental fusion. besides, you can’t tell me that stealing his baby brother’s placenta while the two of them are literally still in the womb doesn’t sound like exactly the type of BS that fetus!AFO would pull, lol.)

HEY!?!

okay?!?!?! well to be fair he did throw that soda at him

oh my god this is so fucked up. in like the best and worst way possible

I genuinely couldn’t ask for a better AFO backstory. it’s so incredibly twisted, and you actually do feel sorry for him. or at least I do. but it’s also beyond clear that this kid was FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL REASON right from the get go. zero goodness in him. literally doesn’t see other people as people. sees them as possessions only. things to rule over. not other thinking, feeling human beings. and that includes his own little brother

but. even if it’s not actually what I would call love, there’s still... attachment, there. it’s the closest he can get to actually caring about someone. guh. just, somehow they have both managed to humanize him, and at the same time made him less human than ever. this manga, man. this fucking manga, though

lmao and here we go. Captain Hero

you know, all those times that I made fun of AFO for not knowing how to read, I never suspected that the twist in his backstory would be that he LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO READ dfksjdlfkjslkdf

but seriously though. because Yoichi appears to be self-taught, and I can’t see AFO having the patience for that, and CLEARLY no one else was around to teach him, sooooo...

oh my goodness it’s actually getting wholesome up in here

what a good fucking boy. poor AFO. fuck me, I can’t help it. it’s not your fault you’re the world’s greatest monster you poor bastard

now we’re cutting to THREE YEARS LATER. okay

is he going to declare war on the glowing baby

typical teenager concerned about nothing but likes and view counts. AFO you would be so much happier if you stopped worrying about all of that and just focused on your own growth

oh, lol. well that was quick

(ETA: r.i.p. Damien.)

“this guy had more instagram followers than me. so I killed him” honey. sweetie pie. you need therapy

omfg

all this time I was wondering who AFO’s middle school lit teacher was who had failed so spectacularly at teaching him reading comprehension. and it was YOICHI ALL ALONG. omg

“and, presumably, that’s how it always was and always will be.” dude. can you imagine listening to AFO’s oral book report on A Tale of Two Cities. “ahem. it was the Best of Times. the end” buddy noooooooo

it was at that moment when Yoichi knew, etc. etc.

oh my GOD I scrolled down to the next panel right after this one and I just IMMEDIATELY DIED LAUGHING

“WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID” ffffffffffffffff I fucking can’t omfg

NOW THIS HUSSY IS STEALING HIS BROTHER AWAY FROM HIM NOOOOOOO

HE’S HIS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!!

oh my god the hands. so wait, is this just the standard symbolic BnHA handholding, or are there More Levels To This. when exactly did Yoichi pass OFA on to Kudou. like is that why the sudden close-up and all that? omg

WHAT!!!!

OH THAT’S THE END, HUH? THAT’S THE END RIGHT THERE, AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS. I SEE. OKAY THEN. EXCUSE ME WHILE I PUT MY LAPTOP DOWN AND GO INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

oh my god. and break next week too. this is what you guys have been dealing with this entire time huh. I understand your feelings now. godfuckingdammit lmao

#bnha 407 #all for one #shigaraki yoichi #ofa the first #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 8 months

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PROPAGANDA

NATASHA ROSTOVA (WAR AND PEACE) (CW: Pregnancy)

1.) Natasha is one of the MCs of the novel and for the majority of it she stays an incredibly complex, flawed and fleshed out character but then THE EPILOGUE COMES. In the epilogue she marries Pierre Bezukhov (who I talked about in my previous propaganda) and essentially loses her personality. The point of her existence now is to serve Pierre and be his 24/7 baby machine. The narrative puts emphasis on how important singing is for her (Natasha expresses herself through it) but after she gets married she stops singing (the other moment she stops singing is after her failed elopement with Anatole Kuragin, when she's depressed and basically at her lowest point) because she doesn't need it anymore since she has a husband UwU.

Natasha is described as a perfect and understanding wife for Pierre and yet she's allowed only to soak in his views and thoughts without adding anything from herself. ("Now that he was telling it all to Natásha he experienced that pleasure which a man has when women listen to him—not clever women who when listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own clever comments prepared in their little mental workshop—but the pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and absorb the very best a man shows of himself." (c) Book 15, Ch. 17).

When Natasha's cousin Sonya tries to stop her from eloping with Anatole, Natasha screams that she's now his slave and will do anything he wants and although she and Anatole never meet again after the elopement fails, she never escapes the fate of becoming a slave to her man.

To be honest I dislike Natasha (there's no excuse for how she and her family treated her cousin Sonya) but the way she portrayed in the epilogue infuriates me. Her marriage to Pierre cancels out her character arc and personal growth she had before it completely.

2.) After 2k pages detailing her unique way of thinking, lust for life, hyperactivity and love of freedom Natasha is married and therefore summarily shunted off to being jealous and incapable of understanding her husband's higher purpose, no longer singing and having no other preoccupation in life but the color of her children's pov

3.) oh my god. so shes this young girl (literally shes like. 13 to 17 throughout the main story). as natasha makes her way into society, she gets more and more hated by tolstoy. (because tolstoy hates society & women). if im remembering correctly the first time she flirts with a man & uses a fan she gets scolded. all of her love interests are considerably older than her. when natasha is 17, she gets engaged to andrei (who at this point would be around 27). he goes off to war! because he loves war. while hes away, anatole (who is vaguely around andreis age) seduces natasha. he knows she's engaged & impressionable and does it anyways. anatole plans to kidnap & elope with natasha, but the plan gets found out. natasha learns anatole is already married and tries to kill herself via arsenic. she gets better. pierre (27) who has known natasha since she was 13 & is close with her family and is also andreis friend, visits natasha. he comforts her and she's like "no what i've done is unforgivable and deplorable". pierre then kind of proposes to her ("if i were free"). natasha stops singing for a while. this is significant because singing is very important to her. well fast forward his wife dies. then theres the epilogue where pierre and natasha get married. natasha is miserable and is basically a baby pumping machine and she also stops singing again.

GWEN (BBC MERLIN) (CW: Mind Control, Adultery)

1.) She was one the main 4 characters in the show and basically the leading lady as the show went on and YET. She was literally treated like an object to make her pain a point of conflict and angst for the male characters and then SHE WAS BARELY EVEN THERE. FOR THE SEASON FINALE. THE LEADING WOMAN. so that the writers could focus on their male characters more. Also in season 4 the writers forgot that they had to make a Guinevere/Lancelot affair happen (to follow the Arthurian canon that they ~totally~ were following before. this is sarcasm btw). But at that point Gwen as a character was not in a place where she would do that. So instead of writing something actually good they decided to just have Gwen end up with an Enchanted Bracelet That Makes You Cheat On People. I’m not joking. So it wasn’t even her choice to have an affair and they never explore the implications of this. And it’s never even revealed to the characters that she didn’t choose this. She’s just. Never vindicated. Evil and terrible.

2.) At the beginning of the series there was on episode when Gwen was like “women should be allowed to fight” (in a battle that was happening). A big part of her character at the beginning was also knowing armor and weaponry bc she was the blacksmith’s daughter. But then in the series finale they had her say something along the lines for “I’m not meant to fight” just so she could be gone so that the writers could just write about the two male leads

3.) Okay also in the last season they didn’t know what to do with Gwen’s character so for almost half the season they made a plot line where she was mind controlled (again :)))) after being kidnapped and tortured. And like. Again instead of focusing on her and the effects it had on her they made the whole thing an excuse to get Male Lead # 1 and # 2 angsty about it. They had to like. Knock her out and throw her into a lake (magic baptism???) to reverse mind control and then they literally never her reaction to the whole situation ever. Literally objectified for the plot.

#polls #round 1 #week 1 #new #cw pregnancy #cw mind control #cw adultery

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firesnap · 2 months

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I'm not answering asks today. It's my mental health day. I do have tons of death threats from Dream stans in my inbox which is hilarious because this is the year 2024.

To the people going "how dare you critique Dream's comment he a domestic abuse survivor."

One thing Shubble said about Wilbur really stuck with me. It was about how he had serious childhood trauma, that wasn't her place to go into, and that for so long that made her feel so bad that she tolerated things she shouldn't.

Abused people can be abusers. Abused people can be complete and utter assholes while advocating against the thing that happened them. Traumatized people can inflict trauma while trying to advocate for mental health.

Dreamwastaken let a convicted domestic abuser live in his house, eat his food, and came up with a whole zany scheme to make that person a content creator with a giant platform of young and impressionable fans. He didn't stop because he found out about that person's history -- that person was a childhood friend who lived with Dream after their conviction. He only stopped trying to platform that person when he got caught.

And then spent nearly three years lying that he didn't know that person.

Dream speaking on Wilbur's tweet wasn't him needing Wilbur to get a hit tweet -- it was about him trying show off the donation he was already making and wanting as many views on his good deed as possible while trying to farm the positive interactions all of the other content creators were getting. He doesn't need the interactions, he needs the positive interactions because Twitter has spent over a year dunking that guy every time he spoke.

So he shows up with this statement formatted weirdly in the way of Wilbur's fuckass apology and restates the talking points everyone else has made about Wilbur's apology.

Anyway Dream stans fuck off because at least he was right that his community made people fucking terrified to talk about abuse for a year. You haven't been welcome on this blog since 2022.

#the current state of things

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femailment · 2 years

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One of my TIF online friends shared a post mocking that detrans woman who is suffering hair loss due to not being informed of the full extent of hormones (like being told they were reversible). Anyways I messaged them saying how awful and hateful it is to bully someone who wasn't given informed consent and that all they're doing is making more detrans people in the future mocking this woman, not preventing them. She got upset and said she was just following what she saw on Twitter because of course. I hate how impressionable these gendies are and how much compassion they lack the moment someone deviates from their norm.

#radfem safe

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bonefall · 6 months

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Obviously nobody should be talking poorly about any of Bumble's competitors but it's insane how people voting for Alex are going 'its a CAT'. Like, okay and? Alex Dewitt is ink on paper and we rightfully take issue with her writing to the point of making it a term, so why is it any different when a fictional cat has misogynistic writing? And these are cats with a society, laws, religion, and understanding of (herbal) medicine. They are on par with people. And, it's a YA series. Shouldn't people take the message "fat, abused women dying isn't a problem because they can't contribute ackshually, and if we acknowledge it is how can the goodboy main character stop licking his brother's kitty boots if he's a bad person :(" as a red flag in any series? Let alone one for kids? Like, did everyone outside of the fandom miss the Ashfur defense? Because I was there for it and it was pretty clear a LOT of impressionable children genuinely believed the "he only loved too much" excuse hook line and sinker, and blamed Squirrelflight for everything. There were so many fans genuinely believing that I literally remember seeing hate art and fanfics portraying Squirrelflight as a horrible person just for asking to stay friends. That alone was a testament to how harmful Warriors can be, all because of that one scene of Ashfur being spotted in StarClan.

And with that fiasco in mind, how can anyone trivialize it to Bumble being 'just a cat'? Especially when kids are reading this, and could really take the harmful message Gray Wing the """Wise""" has for them that if you have nothing to contribute to the people you desperately need help from, you are stupid for trying to ask for it. I was lucky to not take any of the really harmful portrayals relationships in Warriors to heart, but not everyone will be. People should support Alex all they want, she deserves it! But downplaying what happened to Bumble because she's a cat is harmful :(

Alex DeWitt's story is so shocking and straightforward that you're able to sum it up with a single word; "Fridging." It's become the touchstone for a wider discussion about misogyny in media because it is so evocative and so easy to explain as an example.

That IS important. That IS a legacy.

But somehow, if you try to explain how EARLY misogyny in media starts, and how pervasive it is even in "less respectable" mediums like YA xenofiction, they lose their fucking minds. People who refuse to read anything at all going, "what could possibly have happened to a cat?"

You know what, though? I'm GLAD Bumble is winning, and I'm proud of this fandom and our campaigning. I think we actually deserve to be a little smug about this after all the damn "justa cat" comments. Bumble doesn't HAVE a legacy. The book doesn't VALUE HER LIFE AT ALL! "It's so sad Clear Sky is going to have his reputation ruined for killing this useless woman. I never liked Bumble anyway, what matters about this is my poor brother :("

The runner of the Canon Misogyny Tournament mentioned in passing how they kinda take issue with the idea of quantifying misogyny based on suffering because of how it oversimplifies the insidious ways it can express in a narrative, and I've thought a lot about that a lot. They're right.

And Alex is THE posterchild of this because her death is ghoulish. We needed what happened to her as a simple, evocative term, to advance the conversation around media misogyny and get it through people's skulls. But, she has become the conclusion of a sentiment that the more gruesome the death is, the more misogynist that makes it.

but. The fridge was not the misogynistic part of what happened to Alex. THE FACT SHE WAS ONLY INVENTED TO DIE FOR THE PAIN OF A MAN IS. THAT is what the term "fridging" is supposed to point out; The absolute LACK of interest in her as a 3-dimensional character, in women as people, to the point where the writer chose to send Alex out in a gorey, disrespectful way solely as a motivator for her boyfriend. THAT is the bad part.

But instead people have latched onto the fridge half. More violent = more misogyny.

There's a lot of ways for a narrative to be misogynist, though. To downplay the lives, emotions, or contributions of women characters, and to reinforce real-world bigotry.

Warrior Cats does a LOT of this, blaming bad mothers who didn't shut up and accept their 'purpose in life' for Brokenstar's tyranny, making it a TRAGIC thing that Clear Sky is being held accountable for murdering women because his man pain makes it ok, and even blaming Squirrelflight for rejecting Ashfur's advances which caused him to go "crazy" and attempt to murder her children (until, of course, the welcomed retcon of TBC).

Bumble's death, because she is a fat woman, is treated as unavoidable. It's not a terrible thing she died, Gray Wing never really liked her anyway, what REALLY "matters" is that now no one likes her murderer.

She was stupid and selfish to even ask for help, because she is so fat and weak. To be upset at all that her only friend watched her get dragged back to her abuser. Even as she bleeds out, she gets to listen to Turtle Tail making up excuses and wishing she "could have found happiness."

All while Tom the Wifebeater, the fat man who physically assaulted two women, gets a big cutesy redemption death and honored and beloved by everyone and even gets to "lose weight and that's so good :)". Because the books value the lives of men more than the lives of women, plain and simple.

Bumble wasn't just fridged. It's worse than that. Her life doesn't even have enough value to get Clear Sky held accountable for murdering her, because beloved writer favorite Gray Wing hated her for being friends with his wife and doesn't want anyone to hate his poor, innocent big brother :(

Like you said, you can ask anyone in this fandom and they'll tell you about the impressionable kid they were, or have MET, who was badly influenced by the constant misogyny of these books. People who defend Bramblestar tooth and nail as he abuses his wife, the screeds against both Leafpool and Nightcloud for making Crowfeather sad, and the absolutely radioactive Ashfur Defenders who have thankfully died down since TBC's welcome retcons.

It doesn't just end with annoying internet comments. Those kids carry that kind of message with them. It reinforces existing biases and causes them to downplay abused women and toxic men in their real lives.

But sure, "just a cat." Cool way to downplay the 20-year-old bestselling YA fantasy series that is still ongoing but ok. 50000 Bumblesweeps upon ye.

(though i do also have to say, since I started speaking more about it today, I'm seeing more non-wc fans push back against the 'just a cat' comments. Sincerely, thanks guys. It's not every DC fan or Alex voter, just a very vocal section of sore losers willing to downplay misogyny because they're angry.)

#Bumblesweep #Vote Bumble #Misogyny #fatphobia #abuse

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soulcandi · 8 months

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𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬) | 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

synopsis: you knew that jake's arrival would mean nothing but trouble for you. even so, all he wants is a chance to prove that he can play nice.

warnings: jake's pov, alternating povs, mutual pining, written with afab!reader in mind, reader has a na'vi name, language barrier, age difference.

a/n: i hope its obvious that the line breaks sort of indivate a change in pov. it seemed obvious when i posted this on ao3 but now im not so sure with the tumblr formatting. anyway, hope you like!

word count: 2,790

masterlist, previous chapter, next chapter

“This is ridiculous.”

Neither you nor Tsireya dignified your brother’s complaint with a response. Ao’nung lagged behind the two of you, arms empty while yours were both stacked high with baskets of fruit and blankets to offer your new guests.

“This is our duty,” Tsireya corrected, words formed behind a smile she refused to let slip for one second. Walking beside her, you greeted each of the passing villagers as warmly as the last. After showing Toruk Makto and his family to the empty shelter at the end of the lifted pathways that intersected over the sandbar, you disappeared to collect your siblings before dragging them back along with you.

“Ao’nung, you will take his sons and show them where we keep the ilu. Teach them how we hunt within the reef.”

“But–”

“Within the reef.”

You weren’t a stranger to his habits of straying far from the village, sometimes wandering as far as Three Brothers Rock all while coercing the youngest and most impressionable of his friends to tag along. You didn’t have to turn around to guess what face he was pulling behind your back.

“Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Because it is expected of you. We will not let these people suffer the shame of being useless.” You could only pray to the great mother he was not yet sharp enough to catch you in your lie. Father didn’t send you to collect your siblings. In fact, no one did. Nor did he present Ao’nung with the task of teaching the sons of Toruk Makto to fish. That was an order of your own invention — one you hoped would help cultivate new friendships.

“The sooner you teach, the faster they learn. Do it quick and do it right.”

He let out an exasperated huff but made no visible display of his frustrations as you neared the end of the pier.

“May I take Kiri to the storyteller’s marui?” Tsireya asked, struggling to balance the bundle of blankets at the very top of her basket.

“That is a wonderful idea. Thank you, ‘Siri.”

It was your duty as eldest sister to ignore the glare she sent over her shoulder and the growl you heard from Ao’nung not a second later. “If that’s settled, I will take the little one to see the ilu as well. I caught her admiring the pod of younglings this morning.”

Tuk was really the only one in her family who seemed enthralled by your tour of the Awa'atlu Village, but that could have had more to do with how much she was able to sleep during the journey than your skills as a guide.

“You’re forgetting something,” your brother taunted, hopping down the woven platform and making it warp under your feet.

“I forget nothing.”

“What of the mighty Toruk Makto? Who will teach him our ways?”

You bit down softly on the inside of your cheek, not allowing your grin to slip through the cracks of your polite rehearsed smile. Your plans for Toruk Makto were still under development, but they were yours nonetheless. He could one day make a fierce warrior in your clan if he was able to grasp the way of water.

“That is my responsibility to bear, not yours.”

“Tsurak is a warrior’s mount.”

Tonowari’s countless warnings fell on deaf ears. I growled behind the leather band pinned between my teeth as the creature below me thrashed and threatened to break free from the five men holding it still in the shallow water.

“Perhaps it would be wise to start with an ilu? They are far more gentle creatures. More forgiving.”

As the thought of giving up crossed my mind, the tsurak’s eyes seemed to roll over and glare up at me from beneath a thin film of seawater. It was daring me to try again—begging me for the thrill of bucking another cocky warrior off it’s back.

“Nah,” I sniffed, matching it’s unsettling glare. “This one.”

Tonowari made a tight fist in the leads, offering me a chance to back out. But we both knew better than that. When I made no move to call it off, he stepped aside with a dismissive shrug and I didn’t waste another second before throwing myself over the wide, armored creature and tightening the leather strap around my fist until I was sure there was no way in hell it would give way. I wouldn’t let myself be thrown off so easily. Not like last time.

When I was properly mounted, he signaled his men to release the beast into the water.

Swimming with the tsurak was nothing at all like driving an Ikran. The wind never threatened to throw me off like the currents did. In the human labs we left behind in the forests of the Omaticaya, we called them skimwings. If I thought they looked spooky on paper, it was nothing compared to seeing one in person or feeling them beat the water with their sharp fins.

My airtime was short-lived and the tsurak dove unexpectedly, forcing me to lose my footing. As if it could sense my unreadiness, it took off into the water, dragging me behind by the leather binding. It took a painful few moments to reach up against the current and sever my grip from the armored backplate, and by the time I was able to free myself, a winding pattern of painful burns had been seared into my hand.

When I finally surfaced, I could hear the laughter of Tonowari’s men a little ways behind me. My shoulders tensed and I felt my ears fall back against my head in humilation. My dedication wouldn’t amount to much in the end if I couldn’t prove my worth here soon.

I was in the throes of preparing myself to turn and face their mockery when I heard a voice from the beach, spilling out over the still water like a lullaby.

“You are very lucky, Tuk. I didn’t make my first bond until I was your sister’s age. This way, she will grow with you.”

I twisted in place until I found the two of you wading in the waist deep waters further downshore. A woven basket was balanced on your hip and every so often you would reach in and hand Tuk a small fish to offer the infant ilu that swam in circles around her legs. She laughed and the sound alone coaxed a real smile from me.

I could have stayed there all day just watching the two of you talk. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t feel half the gult for stripping my children of their home, or dragging them halfway across Pandora for a fresh start. When I saw you with her, laughing—a sound I hadn’t heard from her in the longest time—I felt like I was doing something right for a change, no matter how often Lo’ak’s temper or Kiri’s distant stares reminded me otherwise.

You glanced up toward the reef for a split second and my cover was blown. I considered diving below a nearby cluster of rocks, but when you caught my eye, your smile instantly widened and you used your free hand to offer me a quick wave of recognition. For a moment, I could forget that I’d just made the biggest fool out of myself twice over to admire how the ocean breeze drew the hair across your shoulders.

It was the tide that drew me in toward the shore. Nothing else.

“Dad! Look!”

Your eyes shot up from stroking the chin of the youngling ilu to see Toruk Makto emerging from the deep waters of the training pool, taking long purposeful strides in your direction. His blazing amber eyes were once again pinned on you and not even the rivers of seawater cascading down his face could have convinced him to give up that predatory hold.

Just when you thought he might actually pounce, his eyes flickered down toward his daughter with a fond look. “Whatcha got there, babygirl?”

Your smile tightened at the sound of those foreign words leaving his lips. You knew in the back of your mind that Na’vi couldn’t have been his mothertongue. Ronal, your mother, could only rave so long about the halfbreeds and their evil English ancestry. It was the language of the skypeople. It was forbidden. But why then did it sound so beautiful dripping from his lips?

“My ilu!” Tuk replied, wrapping her arms around it’s long neck in a warm embrace. Toruk Makto crouched down low in the water beside her, reaching out his hand for the animal to inspect. When the ilu discovered that he was in no possession of fish, it returned all of its attention to Tuk, who was more than delighted to receive it. “Can we go swim?” she asked you in Na’vi, already bouncing in excitement.

You nodded, gesturing out into the protective pool. It had no access to the open waters and she was safe to explore the coral arches and hidden treasures of the reef until high tide struck in a few hours time. “Of course. She’s yours.”

No faster than you said this did she take the young ilu by the leads and disappear into the deeper waters. You lost sight of them quickly and the only indication that they were still there at all were the trails of bubble surfacing in the near distance.

Toruk Makto rose to his full height and only then did you turn to face him directly. He was still panting from his latest attempt to mount the tsurak, his glistening chest heaving as he watched you watch him in return. Suddenly embarrassed, you dropped your eyes to the white sands. In all of your father’s coaching on how to address representitives of the neighboring clans, no where did he say to wade half-nude in the waters and exchange poorly masked longing looks.

“Toruk Makto—”

“Jake.”

Your head shot up just to see him smiling down at you. It was a type of smile you’d only ever caught on the faces of village boys right before you felt a sharp yank on your tail. It meant nothing but trouble.

All of the surprise you felt must’ve been conveyed through your blank expression because within a second, that dangerous smile of his was wiped clean from his face and he held his hands up defensively parallel to his shoulders. “No, no, no, shit —you didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured you, whisking a wet lock of hair out of his face as he mentally kicked himself for frightening you.

Nice going, Sully.

“It’s just…I haven’t been Toruk Makto in a very long time.”

As much as you believed yourself to be wise beyond your years, you knew very little of clan politics outside of the village you were born and raised in. Toruk Makto was the savior of Eywa’eveng and all of her children in the times of great sorrow. It never occured to you that he could vanish just as easily as he appeared on your beaches so many years ago.

Your tail swayed back and forth idly in the waters behind you, stirring the sand into a murky cloud that mimicked the loss you felt inside your heart. “Perhaps Ilu Makto, then?” you tested, head tilted to the side. “Since tsurak has proved too much a challenge.”

Over his shoulder, you spotted Jake’s short tail whisking playfully as he processed your joke. With the shake of his head, he laughed. It was a sweet sound, the first of it’s kind since his arrival. His impossibly sharp canines peeked out from between his lips and he brushed a bead of water from his chin with the back of his hand. “I was hoping you didn’t see that.”

“Believe me, there wasn’t much to see of anything.”

You knew you were pushing your luck. His sense of humor was still a mystery to you. For all you knew, your first comment could have exiled you from his good graces as soon as it left your mouth.

Glancing out at the training pool, you watched your father take flight on his bonded tsurak. He had not yet noticed his outcasted guest standing alone on the shores with his eldest daughter. Knowing it was best to keep it that way, you excused yourself from the conversation with a shallow bow.

“You’re funny,” Jake panted, jogging to keep pace with your long strides as you made your way down the beach toward the ilu nest. You would offer the rest of the fish as treats for the younglings. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, not allowing yourself to devote your full attention. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Funny?” It was yet another word from his native vocabulary that you didn’t understand. Curiosity overpowered your rational thinking and you slowed to a stop behind a large outcropping of black volcanic rock.

“Yeah, funny,” he explained, stopping so close that you were practically nose to nose. “Of good humor. You inspire laughter.”

You fought the grin fighting it’s way onto your cheeks, holding two fingers against your rebellious lips as you took a cautious step backward. “I inspire nothing,” you argued, shaking off the shimmyflies that beat like thunder against your chest before continuing your march back toward the village center.

Just when you thought you might have convinced him to drop it, the basket under your arm disappeared and you turned around to see Jake holding it high above your head. “Hey!”

He only chuckled, holding it up higher when you made a pathetic grab for it. As a matter of fact, he could name a few things you inspired.

You were in the midst of preparing a worthy response when you caught a glimpse of the snake of burns that trailed down his arm. You gasped, and the sound was nearly enough to convince Jake to drop your basket to the sand. “Ma Eywa,” you whispered sympathetically.

He turned his palm inward, wincing as he inspected the length of his injury. It somehow looked worse than it did immediately after the incident that caused it, angry and irritated with lack of attention. It stung, sure, but it was nothing near lethal.

“Tsurak is a worthy adversary,” Jake hissed, flexing his hand just to prove he still could. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and he would be lying if he said concern didn’t look good on you. “But until I am Tsurak Makto, you will call me Jake.”

You refused to look away from his fresh wound, head reeling with slivers of information you from your mother’s Tsahìk teachings. The leaves of seaberries soothed shallow burns like this one. You would need to collect some immediately.

“Hey,” Jake snapped his fingers close to your ear, startling you. “What do you call me?”

Your basket was still held out of your reach. He was taunting you with his sheer height. On one hand, you were relieved that your terrible excuse for a joke did not offend him, but on the other hand, you appeared to have done something much worse by awakening the insolent child that had been resting dormant at his core.

“Jake,” you said slowly, testing the sound of it as the word rolled off your tongue.

He looked pleased, holding the half-empty basket out to you like a peace offering. “That’s right. Now what do I call you?”

There it is; the power. He was laying it all right at your feet. Any respectable woman in your village would have turned her nose at the game he was trying to play. Unfortunately for everyone involved, you weren’t just any other woman, and you didn’t turn your nose to anyone.

“I am Ällora te Ätwì Ronal'ite. But until I am Tsahìk of the Metkayina clan, you may refer to me as Ällora.”

It felt like you were revealing a secret. Something sacred. And if the return of that mischievous look in his eye was any indication, you knew it was a power that would soon be abused. “Ällora,” he sighed, letting each syllable feed into his triumphant smile. “Yeah, I like that. Suits you.”

He gestured once more for you to take the basket and you did so with great caution, not eager to fall victim to another one of his teases. Right when you expected him to draw back and make you beg for it, he held himself dangerously still. “See?” he said, tail still flicking like a whip below his waist. “I can play nice.”

You hummed, eyes narrowed as you turned away for a final time. “We’ll see for how long.”

#candywrites #atwow #avatar #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar fanfiction #dreaming #avatar 2 #dreaming (of all the possibilities)#dilf jake sully

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fatuismooches · 8 months

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hello, victim of my sudden blues because i started listening to sad music. i just wanna talk about some intricacies of reader's and dottore's relationship bc i haven't been feeling well 🫠🫠 dont mind this too much i think it sounds kinda dumb n it's kinda like just word vomit.. anyways, hurt/comfort, reader suffering from uhhh issues?? insecure?? idk how to word it

when he was young, zandik had to learn.

he already learns a lot. he has knowledge far beyond the average human mind at such a young age. but he still had to learn. learn things what he initially thought utterly useless and not of his concern.

he had to learn how to be human.

how could this be? zandik is human (he plans to not be one, though, in the far future).

even as a child, he wasn't treated much like a human. depending on your iteration, zandik may or may not have parents who love him. still, it doesn't save him from the outside world. how his neighbors looked at him in scorn, how they talk about him behind his back, whispering and murmuring until his ears nearly bleeds. how the other kids pick on him, give him bruises for no good reason. ignoring his cries for them to stop, ignoring his frustration and confusion. why do they call him a monster when he simply thirsts for knowledge? isn't sumeru known as the nation of wisdom? why must he be the village's object of hatred when he was merely a child. other children beat him up and call him a 'monster' when he hasn't done anything wrong.

even though he was young.

he was vulnerable, impressionable. undeniably human.

he was treated to be otherwise but the people that surrounds him. and he has accepted it as he grows older.

after all, a child mimics what they see. a child, born human, learned to be a monster.

but there you were, teaching him, reminding him, that he was, in fact, human.

you've barged into his life (uninvited) and made an irremovable impression. you've claimed a spot into the void of his existence that fills him whole, and once you're gone, it was like he was incomplete. like a barnacle that stuck onto his skin and refuses to let go until he dies.

he learned, through you, that he is allowed to feel; to cry in the arms of someone who cares, to laugh at something he finds funny, to smile despite his sharp teeth, to look at something in pure awe though his eyes were crimson red—to study, to be passionate, to disregard those who wishes nothing but suffering to him, to sleep without a worry, to care, to love.

to feel like he's a monster, yet still be embraced, to be kissed, to be loved.

to feel human, to be human.

but he hasn't learned enough.

it hasn't been more clear when you suddenly broke into tears right in front of him whilst you were doing a group project at the akademiya.

he watches as tears spill from your eyes, head hung low as you frantically wipe them off. you sob harder when you see the papers you've worked so hard on be soaked. you expected zandik to yell at you for ruining your project, for stalling progress, for crying.

but it unsettles you more when he says nothing.

he was thinking, that's for sure. but you don't know what. he doesn't appear to be angry, nor happy either. but he's thinking, and you want to cry harder because of it.

you start to apologize. laugh at yourself because—gosh, you're crying in the middle of a project. so ridiculous, you're wasting his time and—

zandik was lost.

you didn't cry as much as far as he could remember. sure, when you were kids, you cried. it's normal, you were a child. as you grew older, you cried less. complained less as well. you stopped talking about complications you have between your parents, or your siblings, or your other relatives. you stopped mentioning how your own friends began to deviate from you ever since you started hanging out with him. you grew silent when you hear them murmur about you whenever you stood next to him.

he thought you were fine. you never talked to him about it. you always did cater to his needs a lot more than yours; he hasn't heard you talk something that you feel negatively for years. it was like a flip has been switched inside his head. why do you not talk to him? not complain? not cry like you used to?

zandik knows that humans can never achieve perfection. each and every individual has flaws. he himself has flaws (that he has yet to remove), and even so, you loved him. with his imperfections and madness.

you were too perfect. to his eyes at least. ever smiling, reminding him of his needs, helping him with his research, indulging him with whatever he wants.

and so he asks, as tears stains your cheeks.

and you spill, because you were bursting with emotion. with sadness, guilt, frustration, and fear. bursting with imperfection. you confess you stopped seeking for his help to not inconvenience him. to not hold him back. he was busy, and you didn't want to be a burden.

zandik mind blanks.

well, all throughout his life, he has never once thought you were a burden. even if you tried to pose yourself as this perfect, flawless, assistant. he, as a scholar, make mistakes. it is how he learns, to improve, to grow. so why can't you? why can't you screw up? appear weak and vulnerable before his eyes? he knows you trusts him, but why do you hold yourself back?

maybe because he has never noticed—or tried to. he mostly focuses on himself and his research, and while you were a part of his life, he has regrettably paid little mind to your needs. you did everything for him, and he has yet to learn to do the same.

you've comforted him, but zandik doesn't know how to comfort you. it was maddening for him, really. to grow restless as you cry, wanting to do something yet not knowing. how does he comfort you? this is the first time you've cried in front of him after all those years. does he wipe your tears away? does he give you words of encouragement? does he do this? does he do that?

he doesn't know. he hates that he doesn't know. he hates that he never tried to know.

guilt—such a bitter taste in his tongue.

he has never felt any guilt to the people he has tortured with his tainted hands. he has never felt guilt when he burned his village—a distant memory—down to the ground.

it was a sickening feeling.

he never wants to feel it again.

he abhors it.

he feels disgusting.

wretched.

human.

of course, it was only you who can make him feel human. only you who can make him feel these horrible sensations in his heart, sinking down to his bones. love, happiness, joy, fear, anger, sadness, guilt—he loathes it. it makes him feel weak.

but he accepts. only for you, only to you.

he is willing to learn, he wants to learn.

he wants to know how to lighten the weight that burdens your shoulders. he wants to know how to make you smile brightly like you always had. he wants to know what makes you feel sad, to let you cry into his arms, to tell him every thing that bothers you.

he wants to understand.

teach him to understand.

so zandik may not know what will cheer you up this moment.

but he tries. and if he fails, he will try again.

he stands up from the floor, your hands in his, and he leads you outside your shared flat. to a clearing, with water streaming from a river, with flora blooming everywhere. the grass damp, the winds howling.

it was a chilly night.

the stars twinkled up in the skies, forming constellations that you could recognize with ease.

zandik sits you on the grass next to him, and he wraps his arms around you.

you could hear crickets chirping into the night, the lights around the city dimming as the people go to sleep. silent chatter from the people who pass by, and the sounds of leaves dancing into the breeze.

his hands rubbing your back, his chin on top of your head. it was how you hug him usually, when you cuddle. your face buried into his chest, breathing in sync.

it was calm.

soothing.

warm, especially in his arms.

and you sob harder than you ever had in your entire life.

it was like a dam had broken, and now the tears now fall endlessly. you cling onto zandik as you cry. he listens to you babble about everything that ails you, how you feel, and your insecurities. you cry and cry, and he listens, wiping your tears with his thumbs, his face soft. pained.

understandably so, he wasn't used to... whatever this was.

he was so unsure, but he tries.

you aren't much comforted, too many things burden you.

your negative thoughts won't disappear just because he finally decided to pay more attention to you. buried beneath your fears and insecurities lies anger. you hate that you are more understanding toward him. you really can't blame yourself for favoring him over the years.

but you could always read him so easily. you can tell.

he wants to learn. learn more about you, learn how to be better. to be true to himself, to be a lover, to be your forever partner—to be human.

to you, and only for you.

zandik will try, and learn, if only for you.

zandik learns from his mistakes, he will be sure to never let you succumb to your own sufferings like this ever again.

it will probably take years for zandik to say the words he wants to say.

but he clings to you so tightly, his hands gripping hard onto your clothes, his adam's apple trembling and his eyes twinkled with the stars above—im sorry.

and he pulls you impossibly closer, pressing a kiss on your temple, and listening to every word you say. his heart thumping in his chest, his hands caressing your skin—i love you.

and you know it. of course you do. because it's only to you that zandik will ever be like this. vulnerable, weak,

utterly

unbearably

and painfully

human.

you teach with your love,

and his heart will learn.

the stars that witness every passing moment bears testament of your love.

and when you look up high in the sky, with dottore holding your hand, peering from the balcony of the white expanse of snezhnaya, while he rambles on and on about his recent experiment to you, it reminds you of that night. hundreds of years ago.

"dottore," you call his name, breaking him from his trance, looking at you with utmost attention. you smile at him, scooting closer as you bury yourself deep into his harbinger coat (that he handed to you due to the cold). "my zandik," you coo,

and he grins, his hands now lay on your waist as he tilts his head curiously. "yes, my dear?" your heart soars at the pet name, your giddiness evident to him.

"oh, nothing," you sigh, hands reaching up to his face and slowly taking off the mask that covers his beautiful, scarred face. "just remembered that night."

you bring it up often whenever you get nostalgic. and every time, you laugh at the face he makes—a big frown, his brows furrowed.

"i'm just glad i broke down that day," you admit, playing with his soft, cyan hair and kissing the long stand that was curled around your finger. "gods know what would happen if i didn't. i wouldn't have complete power over you like i do now."

his scowls at that, straightening his back to tower over you, an attempt to appear threatening. "complete power? over me?" he scoffs, "preposterous."

"if so, then you can sleep in your office tonight." you hum, standing on your tippy-toes to level with him. "you wouldn't mind that, right? you're the oh so powerful il dottore, after all!"

"... don't make me..." he suddenly sulks, his face finding your shoulder as he wraps his arms around you. you laugh, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

"i was kidding." you huff, carding your fingers through his hair. "i wouldn't want to miss a night without you."

"good to know." he sighs, pleased, "i love you, my dear."

you smile once more, admiring the starts that have watched over you from the day you were born, and a hundred years later.

forever bearing witness of your love for a monster named il dottore, and your lover, a human, named zandik.

"yeah," you close your eyes, "love you too."

oh yeah do you mind me sending a few more when i get a thought in my mind? i don't wanna swarm your inbox, so it's okay! i just wanna distract myself with dottore 💥💥anyways thanks for listening to my thing, i like talking about stuff like these :3 i think i got carried away tho heehoo

oh mY GOSH.... I THINK THIS IS THE LONGEST ASK I'VE EVER GOTTEN BUT I AM NOT COMPLAINING WHATSOEVER. I LOVE THIS SM, IT IS NOT DUMB AT ALL ;(( <333 I'm sorry you haven't been feeling well, I hope you take it easy if possible okay? And of course I don't mind you sending more asks, whether it's just regular chatting or writing I'm happy to receive them :) I'm happy to listen to your things hehe 🫶 But. Forgive me this is already SO good already my additions may be short and not very good,, 😭

OH STOP... the idea of child Zandik having to "teach" himself how to become human is heartwrenching. It's not something one would ever think to do, much less a child... the saddest part is that he was born a human, a curious, innocent one initially, though viewed as completely different - a monster - and that is what he shall become if everyone wished it on him so dearly. But oh, of course you had to come in and mess him up. Mess up his heart. His mind. His body. His thoughts. Feelings. Emotions. Even a bit of cognition. You were not part of the plan. The acceptance of being treated by others like less than dirt, the acceptance of being unloved and hated, the acceptance of refusing any kind of remote kindness or affection. You changed everything. You changed him. You taught him. But... he doesn't think you've ever prepared him for a situation like this.

Crying in front of Zandik out of nowhere, will probably be a horrible decision on your part. You have no idea how he'll react, what will happen, if anything will go down, how you'll possibly recover from the embarrassment or explain yourself. But the harder you try to push the thought out of your mind, the more your hand gets wobbly, your body heats up and trembles, your throat closes, and soon enough your vision is blurry, and fresh hot tears are pattering onto the desk. You know Zandik has noticed from the way his pen no longer scraped against the paper, but you do not dare look at him, for you are not sure if you could face him. But not a peep comes from your lover, making your heart pound almost painfully at the silence beside your sobs that you were desperately trying to control. How mortifying, you thought. Embarrassing. You don't know what you were even doing, how stupid you were being. You play it off with laughter because of course you do, what else were you to do? Actually explain? No, of course not.

Zandik, on the other hand, had no clue what was even going on. He does remember a few instances of your tears. Because you fell and scraped your knee, because someone yelled at you, kid things. But this was completely different. These were real, serious tears. And so the scholar thinks. You were always indulging him and his rants, his disdain for other people and how they irritated him so. But it is now he realizes he hasn't heard you say anything remotely similar in a very long time. What makes you upset? Angry? The answer was, that he doesn't know, for you have never confided in him in a long time. You are the only person he should know everything about, and yet he doesn't. It leaves an uncomfortable feeling in him. He wonders if you've been feeling a similar yet different kind of uncomfortableness for a while now without his knowledge.

Zandik must know. And that mere inquiry is all you need for words to start tumbling out your mouth, some probably incoherent but you just needed to get them out. Were they nice? No, not at all, and he doesn't understand. How could you feel all these things when you are you? The one person he acknowledges and loves for all of their worth? How could he not notice all these things bottling up in you too? And it's now that Zandik has come to understand, he is not the... best lover. When you agreed to be in a romantic relationship, you knew he would not be a typical or traditional man. He would not court you, not be romantic or sappy, would not waste time with things of that nature. Though... listening to you has nothing to do with that. Zandik wants you to be able to air all your grievances to him. Will he lend a listening ear? Yes. Will he be able to comfort you, however, that is a different story.

Zandik does not wish for anything anymore - he believes if he wants something, he will work to seize it with his very hands - but at this moment he wishes he knew the concept of comforting. This concept, by itself, would be useless to him normally, but you... you deserve it. And yet he can't give it to you, like you've given it to him many times. He despises it. The foreign feeling of guilt is one he has grown to hate the most. Though despite how much it annoys him, he will endure it. For you. Solely for you. Because you are worth that. You are worth him doing many things he wouldn't normally do. Things that make him grumble and complain but he'll end up doing anyway. Things that result in you smiling and laughing and trying to throw your arms around him. And so from that instance, he resolves himself to this journey. He will understand, whether it takes a few years or a decade or even perhaps centuries. He will be sure to understand.

When Zandik takes you by the hand you're unsure but go along with it anyway, the other still pathetically trying to wipe the tears from your face. He takes you outside for some reason and though your vision was blurred the scenery still looked as lovely as ever, the view you loved so dearly after waking up and your first view being of Zandik's face, and then the scene outside the window. Though you don't worry about that, you're still confused by Zandik's actions. But then he pulls you to the grass with him and just embraces you, and you can't help but stiffen for a moment because... you really weren't expecting this. But your lover continues his movements anyway. You feel so comforted, and that kind of environment is all you need to let your deepest and darkest troubles, concerns, worries, insecurities, whatever you need to say, out. The idea of Zandik doing this for you was still lodged at the very back of your mind, and you knew that Zandik himself was probably not sure of what the hell he was doing, but neither of you cared at this moment. Both of you were trying, trying hard, for each other. Nothing will ever get better immediately. Everything takes time, lots of time, even. But effort matters as well. It's still not enough, but if he tries, if he learns, maybe everything will be okay. For now, you'll be satisfied with his unspoken words and actions, for this is all he can muster now too. No one will ever understand, they don't need to understand the two of you anyway - not when the stars are shining down so brightly, illuminating the love you two have for each other.

When you look at Dottore, sometimes you can't help but reminisce to the older times. When you two were just simple scholars with big dreams. And now, many of those dreams have been fulfilled, and Dottore has become a changed man, but you can't help but think. Especially that night. It holds a special place in your heart.

You can't help but want to be as close as possible to him. You'll take every single piece of his attention if you could, and won't say no. You might end up stealing this coat of his forever though, surely he has enough that he won't notice if one is missing.

Whenever you bring up that night, Dottore already knows what you're going to say and do. You'll always pepper his scarred face with kisses, play with his hair, and then tease him about oh how immensely powerful you were over him, never missing a beat. You never seem to let it go, no matter how many times he corrects you in your thinking. And then you'll always playfully banter back, and then he uncharacteristically gives in at this rare moment of tenderness, and then you always forgive him, as both of you already know how this goes. Yet, it never seems to grow old.

You think... the sky of Teyvat may be fake, but, the significance and beautifulness of it to you will always remain important and real in your heart and memories.

#smooches talks #moots: kai <3 #dottore love notes <3 #why did this have me in tears by the end #literally amazing writing as per usual kai...... POOKIE U R SO TALENTED #dottore comfort so real my fav

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nereidprinc3ss · 10 days

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Jokes and being 'horny on main' aside I find it so fascinating how many women are drawn to both Spencer Reid and MGG. Like he's not classically handsome, in the way most macho Hollywood men are. He's softer, more poetic looking and his personality is also very unique. I think he feels safe (from what we know anyways), and there's something to be said for why women (especially younger women) go nuts for this kind of smart, goofy, caring guy who is truly weird (more so MGG than Spencer). Yet you'll still have incels on Reddit/Twitter parading the toxic alpha male shit to impressionable men and creating this vicious cycle. There was actually an interesting class I took on Romance novels and how because they're sort of an unexplored medium that hasn't been taken seriously in the cultural zeitgeist until recently it's been able to develop into a safe space for women, written by women. A lot of men call them unrealistic and yes they can lean trope-y and drama-esque but also at their core its about women reading about men that are good communicators, with decent personalities and hygiene

idk WHY he is the most visually appealing man I’ve ever seen, and idk why he has this crazy staying power for me—like normally my celebrity crushes are crazy intense for a few months and then they just disappear one day, but me and matthew are approaching our year anniversary and i see no signs of stopping lol!!

i think personality does have a lot to do with it. mgg is genuinely a weirdo like he’s a weird dude with a lot of heart and he seems really passionate about the things he does. men who care about something outside of themselves, and don’t take themselves too seriously, do tend to make me feel safer. i can’t speak for other women and obviously we don’t know him in real life but if he’s secretly an asshole he does a fantastic job of hiding it!! his sense of humor requires a kind of self awareness and awareness of other people that we don’t usually expect from famous men, and the way he speaks about and interacts w his female friends/coworkers is really amazing too.

idk, obviously we don’t actually know him and i try very much not to idolize people (especially men) who i don’t know. but he’s so funny and seems like an actually kind person who lacks some of the hangups that other male celebrities have and that make them repellant to me

also men saying romance novels are “unrealistic” need to give me a fucking break. women know that the men they read about in romance novels aren’t realistic representations of men in real life but men don’t seem to understand that porn is a fucking joke and not a realistic representation of real women. yet they hold us to those ludicrous standards all the time. until they start thinking about the porn they watch as a complete MADE UP FANTASY the way women think about romance novels i really do not want to hear it from them lmfaooo

especially when our fantasy is being treated respectfully by a good man and their fantasies include anti gravity boobs and removed ribs and viewing women as objects made for their pleasure

can you tell im mad about this…

anyway thank you for sharing your thoughts!! i completely agree<3

#asks

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vivalas-vega · 1 year

Text

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part six

cobra is a lot of things... the main one being stubborn as all hell :/ pls lemme know what you think!!! I think I’m going to cap this story at ten parts but honestly don’t hold me to that lol

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part six

add yourself to my taglist

one - two - three - four - five

word count: 3.4k

warnings: language, angst, roo being the voice of reason, probable navy inaccuracies - I did some googling but honestly not much

Being back in a high school filled you with memories of the past you’d wished to leave exactly there, buried in a box six feet under never to see the light of day again but as it turns out, you had to make good on your promise sooner or later. You were standing in a gymnasium that smelled faintly of sweat and the cheap pizza that was wafting from the cafeteria just across the way as a principal droned on to the side of you while you and Hangman stood perhaps a hair closer than you would have liked. You hadn’t spoken since you slipped out the back of the Hard Deck, not for lack of trying however, Hangman had spent the past three days desperately trying to get ahold of you to no avail. You felt guilty, you really did, in all honesty you missed him. You had grown accustomed to having him around, to the silly text messages throughout the day, to spending more time together when out with the group… the group you’d also been avoiding much to your own dismay, but Phoenix had closed that door when a late-night-drop-by turned into making a case for the man… you were nothing if not stubborn, hellbent on seeing things through your way no matter how infuriating to yourself and those around you.

You were only snapped back to the present upon hearing your names as you were introduced, not hearing anything he’d said about the Navy’s two most decorated and accomplished pilots, and certainly not hearing Hangman’s brief chuckle at the statement. You floated to the middle of the basketball court, almost in a daze, as you slipped back into the girl you always were… the girl who put everything aside for the sake of her career.

“Those are our names, yes, but you’re under no obligation to refer to us as Lieutenant,” you said with a small smile, “I’m Cobra and this is Hangman.” you reintroduced.

“Those are your names?” A girl in the front row asked, almost folded in on herself as she leaned back against a bleacher and you both chuckled.

“Sort of, those are our callsigns… everyone earns one eventually, almost like a nickname.” Hangman answered.

“How do you earn one?” she asked, leaning forward a little.

“You usually get one pretty early on, given to you by your peers based on something silly you’ve done or something that sticks… I became Cobra after a training mission where I flew rather fast and was quick to strike my target. Truth be told, it wasn’t said to me as a compliment but nonetheless it stuck,” you joked. “And Hangman, well uh- if I recall the story correctly he suggested the game during some down time and he’s been Hangman ever since,” you lied and you didn’t miss the smirk out of the corner of your eye. You thought telling the story of a cocky and brazen pilot who consistently left his teammates hanging was the opposite of what you should be telling the impressionable group of kids before you. “But anyways, back to why we’re here today… We are Naval fighter pilots, and I know what you’re thinking: the Navy has pilots? Seems a bit silly for the branch of the military that focuses on the sea to have anything to do with the sky but they go hand in hand more than you would think.”

“We ship out on Naval carriers around the world, the Navy allows us to get as close to our targets as possible without the risk of ground transportation, where we’re able to fly missions you’ll probably never hear about in the pursuit of keeping our country safe and stopping things before they even have the chance to happen,” Hangman added.

“Because of the high pressure situations we’re put in, we had to go through pretty rigorous training to get here, starting in Rhode Island at Officer Candidate School, and then heading out to Florida for Naval Aviations School Command, however… where all the real fun happens is Top Gun. Top Gun is where the best of the best go to hone their skills and earn certification that puts them at the top of the call list for the most dangerous of missions. It’s where every pilot dreams of going, but very few are given the chance.” you said, trying not to smile at the way each kid was locked onto your every word… you supposed you might have gotten lucky with this bunch, you were usually met with yawns and blank stares.

“When Cobra and I aren’t deployed that’s where we are, using the skills we’ve acquired from our own time at Top Gun and our own respective missions to teach the Navy’s most promising pilots flight maneuvers and aerial combat techniques to protect themselves and their country… and how to look cool while doing it,” he added with a laugh and you fought back a laugh of your own as you noticed each girl in the room watching his every hand gesture with rapt attention and looks of admiration. You wished you could blame them but you weren’t known for being hypocritical.

“Have we made this sound super cool?” you asked and were met with eager nods, “for how awesome it is, it’s equal parts challenging and terrifying… if not more. This isn’t a path for everyone, should you find yourself in this position you will be tested to your limits daily and it will change who you are at your core… but for those up to it, it truly is the ride of a lifetime.” you finished as the principal opened up the room to questions and you nodded at the same girl who’d questioned your call signs, who’d started the assembly looking rather small and disinterested but the more you talked the more she leaned forward, opening her body language and watching the two of you as if you were the only thing in the world.

“What made you decide to become fighter pilots?” she asked and you and Hangman looked at each other before he nodded at you to go first.

“I’d always loved the idea of flying… on family vacations I much preferred the flights than the trips themselves, I’d always thought I’d go to traditional flight school and maybe become a commercial pilot but during a college fair in high school I met a Naval aviator who completely changed my trajectory,” you answered with a smile.

“For myself it was a little more roundabout, the idea was always there but I did a year of business school before deciding life in the cockpit was more my speed.” The rest of the questions went pretty standardly, how do you prepare for the really scary missions, what kind of jets do you fly, what does an average day look like, and the two of you answered them with grace and wit that had them eating out of the palms of your hands. When the principal motioned to dismiss everyone after thanking you for your time, you hung back awkwardly as you watched everyone file out of the gym, trying to keep as much distance between yourself and Hangman as you could.

“Lieutenant- sorry, Cobra,” you heard behind you and you turned to see the girl from the front row. You could practically feel the anxiety rolling off of her and greeted her with a warm smile you’d hoped would ease her. “I just wanted to thank you for coming today, if there’s any truth to what my principal said I’m sure you have much better things to be doing… it’s just- I’ve sat through a lot of these assemblies whether it be the Navy, the Army, Marine Corp… you’re the first woman that’s spoken at one. You’re the opposite of what I associate with this career path and I think that’s really cool,” she said, fiddling with the strap of her bookbag and you couldn’t help but smile at her.

“What’s your name?” you asked, to which she responded Sadie. “Well, I won’t lie to you Sadie… I’m entirely outnumbered in my field,” you said with a laugh, “much like every woman no matter the branch of military. Is this something you’re interested in?”

She nodded, “I think so… I don’t know, I’ve spent the last six months stressed about what to do after graduation because nothing sounds appealing to me but listening to you talk about what you do… you seem so passionate and confident and it suddenly feels pretty clear.”

“You seem brave, which is one of the most important traits as a pilot… especially as a woman. If this is something you’re serious about you’ll have to work harder than your peers, it’ll be frustrating and there will be days you wonder why you’re doing it but eventually you get to where I am and you get a sense of pride that your male counterparts can never attain,” you reached into one of your pockets, “this has all my information on it. I’ll let you in on a little secret - that number doesn’t go anywhere,” you said, handing her your card as she softly laughed, “but I’m always accessible by email. If you ever have questions and want to talk more about it, or if the time comes to start your applications and you don’t know where to start feel free to reach out.”

She took it graciously, tucking it into her bag and beaming up at you, “thank you, Cobra. I will definitely be using it,” she said before sticking her hand out to shake yours.

“You remind me a lot of myself. Word of advice? Don’t worry about what goes on in these halls, it doesn’t matter in the end. Just focus on your goal and maybe one day you’ll be on the other side of this conversation.” you said and she nodded before thanking you again and returning to her group of friends who were watching skeptically from beside the door.

“I think you just changed a life,” Hangman commented, having watched the entire interaction with a sense of adoration. “You’re really good at this, I know these aren’t our idea of fun but you should do it more often… they need to see a woman such as yourself in this position.”

You nodded, “she’s a good kid, I look forward to when she reaches out.” You went to find the principal to say your goodbyes and you were acutely aware of the way he was hot on your heels on your way to the parking lot but you refused to acknowledge it for fear of having a conversation that would rival the angst and drama already plaguing these hallways. He was quick to close your car door just as fast as you’d opened it and you steeled your gaze on the handle.

“Can we talk?” he asked and you kept your eyes anywhere but his, knowing the second you looked into the pools of emerald your resolve would go slipping through your fingers.

“I can’t do this right now, Hangman,” you replied, moving to open your door again.

“Cobra, please talk to me.” he pleaded and you sighed.

“Jake, please. Let me go,” you said and he nodded in defeat as you were all too quick to get in your car and leave his dejected figure in your rearview mirror. The emotion was quick to bubble it’s way to the surface as you navigated your way home on autopilot, not even sure how you made your way there until you were tearing through the space and to strip your uniform off to discard in a heap on your closet floor. You pulled the pins from your tight bun, running a hand through your hair, almost desperate to reestablish blood flow as if it would make you think more clearly. Before you could let your thoughts send you in a downward spiral you heard your doorbell ring and you sighed, already knowing who it was as you made your way to the foyer.

You looked through the peephole, surprised as you threw the door open to reveal Rooster standing there with his hands in his pockets looking rather sheepish.

“Rooster? What are you doing here?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as his eyes trailed your form.

“Do you make a habit of opening your door like this? I’m sure the mailmen must love you,” he said, pushing his way into your home. You looked down to see that you hadn’t made any effort to clothe yourself after stripping of your uniform, leaving you in just a thin tank top and your underwear and you cursed under your breath as you disappeared down the hallway, reemerging in sweatpants and a cardigan pulled tightly around you.

“Sorry, have a lot on my mind,” you muttered, standing awkwardly as he made himself comfortable and rooted around your fridge before producing two beers.

“That’s actually why I’m here,” he handed one to you as he made his way to settle into your couch and motioned for you to follow which you reluctantly did. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” he asked though you could tell by his tone it wasn’t really a question.

“Just taking some personal time, like we were encouraged to with this leave,” you replied before taking a sip and he snorted.

“Okay, and the actual answer?”

You sighed, “Rooster, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to tell me why you’re avoiding everyone, and more specifically Hangman. I got a rather worrisome text from him not too long ago and I still don’t know why you left the bar earlier this week,” he was exasperated. It wasn’t necessarily unlike you to withhold details of what was going on with you but he was genuinely worried and Hangman’s constant questioning of whether or not he’d heard from you was doing nothing to ease the concern.

“I’m not avoiding him,” you mumbled.

“So… not answering his texts or calls and speeding out of a high school parking lot is what exactly?”

“I wasn’t speeding, it was a very tasteful, very understated skedaddle and I don’t need to explain myself.”

“You do when it’s affecting the rest of us, and you definitely do when the two of you look like shit,” his patience was wearing thin but he was doing his best to keep his voice soft, “did he do something to you at the bar? Did he-” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath, “did he touch you or hurt you? Because if this is an entirely different conversation we’re having, you can talk to me.”

You shook your head, “he didn’t do anything I didn’t give him the green light for.”

“So, something happened?”

“Fucking Christ, Roo. Yes, he followed me out onto the patio and he kissed me. Twice.”

“Okay, and why are you upset about this?” he prodded.

“He just… I-” you began stumbling over your words and took a deep breath to center yourself. “We were arguing and he just kissed me. Like, truly in-your-face yelling at each other and he decided that was the absolute best moment to lay one on me.”

“That’s kind of romantic,” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender when you glared at him, “what, it is. That’s like… your thing, it makes sense that’s what your first kiss was.”

“We shouldn’t have had a first kiss in the first place,” you protested.

“Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me what he did was so surprising?” he asked and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean that you and Hangman make sense. I didn’t see it at first, mainly because despite your need to be a difficult asshole, you’re good. Like, truly good and I didn’t want Hangman getting anything good that could further blow his ego out of proportion but now that I do see it I can’t see this dance the two of you are doing as anything other than biding time.”

“We don’t make sense, Roo. He is a serial womanizer and I am focused on advancing my rank. We can’t even have a few weeks of genuine friendship without reverting back to being at each other’s throats.”

“I think that’s called passion, Cobra. You’ve always had it, you’ve both just been so stubborn you’ve directed it elsewhere.”

You sighed, “did Hangman put you up to this? Did Phoenix put you up to this?” you asked, recalling when she’d shown up the night after the incident saying very similar things.

“No, he did not… I merely told him I would do a welfare check, and well… Phoenix and I did talk but I brought this up of my own accord because I care about you and unfortunately I care about him too and I think you’re being too stubborn for your own good.”

“I’m not being stubborn, Rooster, I’m sticking to my boundaries.”

“Boundaries you have in place, why? I’m all for boundaries, Cobra, but that’s not what you’re doing and you know it. You’re pushing him away.”

“Because this isn’t a good idea, because I can’t do this with him. It’s all about the chase for him, the second he gets me he’s going to get bored and move on after a few weeks and I can’t go there.”

“So, you’re scared,” he observed and you shook your head.

“I’m not scared, I’m being practical. Things are already awkward enough and barely anything happened, can you imagine what will happen if it goes any further?”

It was his turn to shake his head, “no, you’re scared. And that’s okay, but what are you scared of?” His incessant prodding was sending you off the deep end, your will to keep your mouth shut wavering with each passing second.

“I’m scared that the second it gets real he’s going to leave, because what you and Phoenix are suggesting… it’s not Hangman, we all know that. I’m going to let him in and we’re going to give it a shot and he’s going to leave, and then what? Then the group gets weird, work gets weird, and none of it will have been worth it.” you finally said, letting it out with an exhale.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been given the opportunity to see that side of Hangman. Most of the girls we meet in bars aren’t necessarily looking for a boyfriend, Cobra, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but dating with our life and schedule is kind of a pain. I think you’re being a little too hard on him,” he said softly. “I don’t know if you’ve got your walls built up so high you can’t see it but he’s different with you and we all see it. Sure, you fight like cats and dogs but for the most part he’s- I don’t know he’s softer when he’s around you. I’m pretty sure he can’t go two minutes without glancing in your direction to make sure you’re okay.”

“I just don’t want to go there, Roo. It’s not worth it,” you sighed and he nodded.

“I think you’re wrong, but it is your life. I just think you should talk to him… put him out of his misery, put all of us out of our misery because I cannot take another day of him badgering me about you. He really cares about you, Cobra, I think you’re closing yourself off to the possibility of a lot of happiness.” With that he stood, placing a kiss to your cheek before taking his leave and leaving you alone to process everything he’d just said. You’d wanted to be mad at him, you really did, but it was so quintessentially Rooster to swoop in and try and fix the tension you didn’t have it in you to be mad. He might have had a point, several points actually, but you weren’t feeling quite that malleable yet, weren’t ready to admit that you may be wrong and that you’re maybe being too hard on him. If you were hard on him, if you kept your walls just as you’d built them you wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout. As your phone rang beside you, you picked it up to see a photo of Hangman, a perfect snapshot of his essence poised behind you at the pool table with a shit-eating grin, and you choked back tears as you silenced it and tossed it aside. Rooster might have chipped away at you but you just weren’t ready, not yet and certainly not tonight.

previous part / next part

taglist: @potato-girl99981 @olliepig @roosters-girl @angelbabyange @loveforaugust @seriouslyseresin @sopheeg @shanimallina87

#Jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #Hangman x Y/N #hangman x you #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

196 notes · View notes

not-alien-girl-v · 9 months

Note

i will take any george daniel content u will give me

She Looks So Perfect (George Daniel)

warning: nothing

note: i am a woman on a dark path!! xx

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

you’re nearing 7 drinks in now. however, you’re not a big drinker, so 7 drinks for you isn’t the same as 7 drinks to someone else, namely, george.

you’re lucky that the party is at his house, otherwise you would be in a much more compromising position, but at the moment, you’re sat comfortably on his living room couch, listening to matty babble on about bukowski and poetry, typical matty stuff, and a group of helplessly impressionable young girls surround him like a crowd, hooked on his every word.

it’s almost sad, somewhat funny, watching the show he puts on, he’s such a performer, even in his free time.

he’s also such a people person, watching him be so at ease surrounded by a hoard of people observing his every move, which brings your thoughts back to george.

a while ago now, he got pulled away by some distant friends who showed up at his party and they’ve been talking on the back porch ever since then. you can’t hear the conversation but you’ve been reading into the body language from the inside of the closed sliding glass door.

there’s friend number 1, a short yet muscular guy with tan skin and black hair, who seems to be the resident talker, every time another man in the equation is at the end of his words, friend number 1 butts in again with some brand new, invigorating topic to speak about.

friend number two, is taller, not as tall as george but tall, and his hair is light brown and much longer than anyone else’s, come to think of it, longer than yours as well. he’s enjoying friend number one’s continuous talking, friend number one must be funny because friend number two keeps obnoxiously laughing and clutching one’s arm every time a joke is cracked.

then friend number three, who you know so dearly as ross, is here for one’s jokes, but he’s nowhere near as touchy on one as two is. maybe there’s something deeper going on with friends one and two.

but you don’t plan on investigating the meaning of their relationship, not tonight at least.

lastly, your eyes fall on george, who you’re sure you haven’t witnessed speak a single word this whole time, instead responding in understanding nods and occasional laughs. if you weren’t so close with him, you’d have thought perhaps he was enjoying himself, but you know better than that.

you roll off the couch, locating your balance before sliding open the glass door. all heads turn to look at you, now.

“hey bitches!” you greet the four men standing there, and you’re immediately out of place with them, you’re not a hip male musician living in los angeles, which is all they have in common, but you insert yourself anyways for the sake of your man.

you walk close and rest a hand on george’s toned back, briefly rubbing up and down, “can i talk to you inside about something?” you speak casually to him, and again, he doesn’t say anything, not to you or to the group, but he gives a quick smile to the men as if to excuse himself without any words.

you push him inside first and close the door behind the both of you, leading him back to the couch where no one on the back porch can see either of you anymore. he breathes a sigh of relief.

“thank you, my darling, i thought i’d never get away.” both his hands on your shoulders, he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“don’t mention it.” he pulls you to sit on his lap on the couch.

he buries his head into your hair, taking a deep inhale. “you smelling me, you freak?” you ask him.

he sighs out the gust of wind he breathed in, making your hairs tickle the back of your neck and you shrink away from it, temporarily cursing his too-tight hold on you until you remember how much you like it all other times.

“do i not having smelling privileges yet?”

you turn back a little bit to look him right in the face. “at least take me to dinner first.”

your face feels comedically close to his, you’re practically breathing the same air and if you speak more words, your nose would brush against his own. it feels so intimate you feel like you need to take a breath not provided by him, find some air of your own somewhere in your own space.

“i paid for your breakfast,” he pokes you playfully in the rib, “and your lunch.”

“breakfast hardly counts. it was made it from the ingredients in your fridge, but matty pays for half that shit.”

he just smiles, patiently, like he always does when he surrenders opinion to let you be right in an argument. he’s so sappy it’s annoying. “but who cooked that breakfast?”

you roll your eyes.

“that’s what i thought.” he tightens his hold around you, clasping his hands together at your waist.

you lean in more to rest your head on his shoulder. “have i told you that you look perfect tonight?”

you giggle, “hmm, no i don’t think i’ve heard that one yet. maybe you should say it again.”

he speaks lower, quieter, like a secret spoken between two lovesick people, which you are, in any and every sense, “you look perfect.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me, i’m bare minimuming.”

“that’s not a real word.”

“it is now.”

“ok, weirdo.”

he grabs you gently by the back of your head, not pulling but softly lifting up your head to come face to face with him again. “can i kiss you?”

you smile, lips already brushing against his, “you don’t have to ask.” with his grip on your head, he holds you steady and does all the heavy lifting, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter shut, only keeping direct contact for a small moment but lingering there.

suddenly, he scoops you up and ascends from the couch. you yelp, gripping onto him for dear life as if you’ve ever known him to drop you. you wrap your legs around his waist to ensure the closeness, and he starts carrying you back to his room, and you know you hear matty hollering about it from the living room, but you can’t bring yourself to care even a little bit.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @indierockgirrl @milkluvr8 @americanangel

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