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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year

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Onesie Party

SUMMARY: Ace and Deuce, with a hint from Cater and financially support from Kalim, gave you a costume made Grim onesie. And decided to throw a surprise (to only you) onesie party at Ramshackle Dorm and invite all the students you knew. Onesies were the mandatory dress code!

CHARACTERS: All NRC Students. (Leona is mentioned because, let’s face it, he would only wear a onesie if he was forced to)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader.

WORD COUNT: 3.780

COMMENTS: I'm new at posting here on tumblr. This is the first thing I write as a fan of something. I already read other things like this here and I enjoyed them. One night I was wearing my own onesie and got this idea. I also like to write so, why not?

I hope you enjoy reading. I did enjoy writing it.

BTW: English isn't my first language.

You were on Ramshackle Dorm. It was already late night, and you were getting ready to go to bed when you decided to make one last check at your Magicam.

You had a massage from Cater. He sent to you a post. It was a photo of someone wearing a black cat onesie with red fire in its ears.

Cater: It reminded me of Gri-Chan

Cater: they're making custom onesie!!

Cater: a Grim onesie would be so adorbs!!!!!

Cater: and you'd look so cuuute on one ;)

That made you giggle. You checked the post just to confirm what you´ve already thought.

You: They’re sooo CUTE!!!

You: I would love to have a Grim onesie but…

You: they’re so expensive :(

You: That and Grim would probably tease me about it and his ego would inflate even more -.-

Cater: hahahahaha He would do that because he would love to see you in that too XD

Cater: but yah... it's a shame it's so expensive :(

Cater: Ow... I need to go... Don't want to lose my head to be up past hours

Cater: nighty night~

You: good night ~

Little did you know Cater would tell your two dummy best friends about the onesie thing.

It was a chilly night, some days after that chat, and the sun was just a few seconds of set, when you heard a knock on the front door.

Grim smelled the air. “I smell FOOD!” he said, rushing to the door.

You hear Ace and Deuce's voices. And then you see them appear in the lounge where you were sitting on the sofa. If you were drinking something, you would have spit it out or choked on your laughter.

Besides having some bags with snacks, they were also wearing onesies. Ace had an ace of hearts onesie and Deuce had a two of spades onesie. They say that line of onesies were made based on the Queen of Hearts card soldier.

Ace was loud when he greeted you. Deuce was probably still embarrassed about the situation.

“You look so adorbs!” You said, purposely imitating Cater, and laughing. That made Deuce blush a little.

“HA ha ha. I know right?” Ace said, “But don’t think can escape from join us.”

“I would love to, but unfortunately for you, I don't have a onesie.”

“Are you sure?” Ace took out one of the things Deuce carried in one of the bags.

“OI!” Deuce protested. And Ace threw you a paper bag. Like a package that arrived in the mail. When you picked it up, you realized that by the softness, inside the bag there should be some kind of clothing.

You opened the bag while they took the snacks out of the bags and placed them on the table. And unfurling a gray onesie with a trifurcated tail, blue fire coming out of the cat ears and a black and white striped bow around the neck, which the zipper handle being a pendant.

“Don't just stand there looking at it. Go dress it before the party starts!”

“Party?! What party?!”

Ace had a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Sorry, (Y/N).” Deuce said, “I wanted to tell you, but they wanted it to be a surprise.”

“They? You mean there more people than you two who are involved in this?”

“Of course.” Ace said, “That thing was expensive. Who do you think we tricked to… I mean, who do you think offered to pay for the whole thing when he knew about it?”

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. And someone else nocked at the door. Either it was a huge coincidence or a great timing. You put the onesie on the sofa and went to open the door.

Kalim’s greeting was as warm as always. He was wearing a red parrot onesie. He had his signature smile, until he saw your clothes.

“Oh, did we come too soon? Ace and Deuce haven’t arrived yet? I hope I didn't ruin the surprise.”

“Oh no. They are here. I just haven't put on my onesie yet.”

He sighed with relief “I got scared for a second. Then go try it one! I can’t wait to see how it looks on you!”

You smiled “Ok, I’ll go. After you enter.”

Kalim wasn't carrying anything, but the person who came in after him and greeted you had about three boxes stacked in his arms. You controlled your laughter because you knew he wouldn't like that. But Jamil looked so cute in his dark red snake onesie. You felt the need to say something.

“Don't be mad at me, but you look kinda cute on that.”

“D-don’t worry. I’m not mad” and he quickly balanced the boxes on one arm to pull the hood up to cover his blushing face with the other. “Thanks.” He whispered. That just made it worse. He was now even cuter.

You went to one of the empty rooms to change to your new onesie. When you returned to the lounge all the boys ware looking at you the same way, but Kalim was the one saying what probably all of them were thinking.

“Aw! You look so cute (Y/N)!”

“Myahaha. Looks like we find the perfect uniform for my hench-human.”

And before you could say something back, another knocks the door. You were so excited about seeing another NRC student in a cute onesie than you almost rush to the door.

OMG. Now it was Trey and Cater on a three of clubs and four of diamonds onesies. They'll tell you that the four card soldier onesies pack was on discount, so they took it. And of course, Trey brought one of his cakes. Like Deuce, Trey was a little embarrassed. But Cater...

“OGS, you look cuter that I thought! I need a pic of us (Y/N)!”

(OGS = Oh Great Seven)

They entered and after them… surprise of surprises:

“Riddle?!” It was already too late to try to sound less cooked. And he was wearing a red hedgehog onesie. “I-I didn’t thought… um…”

“Think, (Y/N), I didn't think.” He corrected you. maybe because he would anyways, or maybe to try to soften the soft blush that was already starting to form. “Well, since you always go to our unbirthday parties when invited, and sometimes even help preparing them, I thought the minimum I could do to show my appreciation was to attend to one of your parties.”

After he entered, something on the back of the onesie caught your eye. You weren't looking at that, swear! But that little round tail was so cute.

A few minutes later, new knockings on the door.

“Kalim?” You asked, “How many people did you invite?”

“Well, to be honest, I was thinking about inviting all the students at school. But Jamil said that you could not like that especially because it was a surprise party, so he suggested only invited the people you know.”

You smiled at Jamil as saying thank you.

“So I only invited… um, let me see… Jamil, Riddle, Trey, Cater, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Vil, Rook, Epel…”

Another knock interrupted Kalim’s list. Whoever it was from that list, it was better to open the door and fast.

Ruggie was wearing a hyena onesie. You were as happy to see him as he was to see you but... “Isn’t it a little bit… weird for you?” You asked.

“Hey! I'm a very loyal guy to my roots. Shehe.”

“That and Leona-senpai said it was either that or a lion onesie.” Jack said. He will revel to you that Leona was the one paying for Ruggie's onesie. and he wanted to buy the lion one for Ruggie, just to mess with him, but eventually Ruggie convinced him to buy the hyena one. Jack himself was wearing a dark blue onesie with little stars and little moons that glowed in the dark, what made you look confused and with a lot of questions at him.

Jack blushed. “L-listen, it's a long story. It was the only thing I had. I bought this a couple of years ago because of my little sister. I can explain it later...”

You didn’t saw anyone else with them. “Oh, what a shame Leona couldn’t come.” You say to Ruggie with a smirk on your face. Despite you really wanting to see him in a cute onesie, you know he wouldn’t do such thing.

And speaking of him, if you’re questioning why Leona would buy Ruggie a onesie just for that party. They made a deal. And Ruggie’s part of the deal was sneakily snap some pictures of your pretty figure on that cute onesie for Leona. And maybe he would save some copies to himself too.

Them entered and you saw that Ruggie’s onesie covered his entire back. So, his little tail was inside. Unlike Jack's tail, which poked out of his onesie and struggled not to wag like a happy dog’s one.

After the two of them entered the lounge, Ace started messing with Jack, and Ruggie started messing with Riddle because of they’re onesies. Nothing to make neither of them too mad, but it made you star worrying about other possible gests.

Not long after, you open the door again.

“Awww... why an azarashi-chan onesie? You should have got a Shrimp one.” Floyd whined. “Ne Jade?”

“He Floyd.” His Twin agreed “Oh, but you still look adorable on that direbeast onesie.” After Ruggie, it was no surprise seeing them on eels onesies. The funniest thing about their onesies was the feet getting out of the onesie while the tail continued a little further back.

But honestly, even more funny was Azul in front of them. Was he using an octopus onesie? Unfortunately for you, no. He was wearing a… business onesies! A onesie that looked like a suit. How did he even find one of those? You could have asked if you didn't just start laughing.

Azul looked a little upset about your laugh.

“I told you that one was stupid.” Floyd said. “You should have got a cute one.”

“I didn’t want a cute one.” Azul said back to Floyd, and then asked you: “Is there something wrong about the onesie I chose?”

“No, no.” You assured him, still giggling a little. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just that I never saw a onesie liked that. I didn’t even know those existed.”

“I would rather see Azul on an octopus onesie myself as well.” Jade said with his signature smile that only the people who knew him knew it was a mocking smile.

“Absolutely not!” Azul reiterated. And as if trying to change the subject of the conversation. “Though, (Y/N), despite the preferences of my colleagues, I may say that you look wonderful in those clothes.” Oh, he tried to control the blush, but little did he know it was stronger than his wishes.

The Tweels smiled mischievously but didn’t say anything about it. Looking at them and thinking about the people that were already on the lounge, you realised something. You opened your arms in a signal for them not to enter yet.

“Wait, just… Can I please ask you something?” you opened your arms in a signal for them not to enter yet. But you quickly remember when you saw their, let's say, villainous smiles. You wanted a favor from the Fish Mafia, hum?

“Of course, prefect.” Azul said with his charming smile. “Anything you wish. You already should know that.”

There was only one thing you could use to your advantage when dealing with those three. And especially in this situation. They soften when their poor unfortunate souls are cute.

“Can you please not anger anyone? You know, teasing them about the onesies? I wanted everyone to enjoy the party.” You asked with only the necessary amount of puppy eyes.

“Anger anyone?” Floyd repeated, then smiled. “Is kingyo-chan here?”

Time to increase the puppy eyes, directed at both at Floyd and Azul. And while Azul was thinking you thought of a possible offer to Floyd. “I'll buy a shrimp onesie!”

Floyd’s smile softened and warmed. “Really~? And would you visit me with it dressed at Octavinelle whenever I ask you~?”

“Not whenever you ask.” You stood.

“And what if we set a maximum limit?” Jade said, as if that deal was of his interest as well. “Once a week maximum?”

“Once a month.”

“Twice a month” Floyd pouted.

“Fine. Twice a month maximum.”

“Okay~! What do you think Azul?”

“Um… Allow me to be the one selling the onesie to you, and we have a deal.”

You signed. “Fine.”

“It’s a deal then, my dear (Y/N). It’s always a pleasure to do them with you.”

If it makes you feel better, remember that you just made a dela with them while everyone wearing onesies. And little did Azul know he would be teased for his choice of onesie as well. At least Jamil had that to counterattack.

Next knocks on the door.

“Beauté! Oh, Trickster, your onesie is magnifique! Such clothing specially designed based on a close friend! What a wonderful show of beautiful bonds.” And Rook did it again, made you blush with his flourish. “Ah~” he whispered at you with a smile. “And of course, you could get even more beautiful.” He was wearing a light purple bear onesie.

“Rook, don’t spoil (Y/N) already with your complements.” Vil said. He was wearing a peacock onesie. He looked at you and smiled. “But I agree, it is a pretty cosy sight to behold. I even dare say you may look better than Grim himself.”

You smiled, still blushing. “Don’t say that in front of him.”

They entered and finally you see your fellow Pomefiore freshman. Epel was wearing a purple onesie with white lines with little drawings (like a Christmas onesie, but purple instead of red). But the biggest surprise was seeing him with his excited smile. You would think he from all people wouldn't like a party like this. I mean, it's kind of hard looking anything other than cute on a onesie. But he seems looking forward to the party.

“Ah! I love your onesie.” You tell him.

“Thanks! My grandma did it for me some time ago. I never had the opportunity to use it with other people wearing their own onesies too!”

“I also told him that he wouldn't need to worry about being the only one being called cute on this party.” Vil said.

“Oh! I'm eager to see what our dear schoolmates chose to wear on this night.”

“Um, Rook?” You ask before he continued followed the other two to the lounge.

“Oui?”

“I’m curious. Epel is wearing a onesie that his grandmother made. Vil is wearing, well, the animal that I most associated with him.” You giggle. “But I was wondering why you’ve chose a bear?”

He smiled at you. “I’m glad I picked your curiosity.” Rook had his, let’s say, hunter smile on his face. “Well, since you’re the host, I may tell you. You see, I always found fascinating by how a huge beast like a bear could turn into a soft and cute toy for children. Both an efficient predator and a fluffy friend. I thought it was a good fit for both the party and me. Wouldn't you agree, trickster?”

“Indeed.” you smiled, slightly worried.

Some minutes later, more knock on the door.

“HIII, prefect!” And you thought Ortho couldn't look cuter. He was wearing a magenta onesie with little horns, and with the ways he was moving you were able to glance a pointy tail behind him as well. He even changed his flames hair colour to match the onesie. “Wow! The Grim-san onesie is so cool! It looks so good on you.”

"Thank you. Your onesie is so cool too."

“Ha ha, thank you. They are from characters we really like. We thought it would be cool to matching clothes for this kind of party.”

“We? Matching?”

“And I’m already regretting that.” You heard a familiar deep voice saying somewhere outside.

“Ni-san! Come on, you said you wanted to show everyone how superior our onesies are.” Then he imitated Idia's voice. “There's no way those guys have better onesies than this. I personally upgraded mine from their standard self to accommodate my shut-in needs.”

“Fine, fine… you don't need to info-dump everything in one line of dialog.”

Instead of waiting for Idia to came out of his hiding place, you snick out your head to find him crouching to the wall close to the door.

“Heep! N-no need to jump-scare me.” He was wearing a onesie similar to Ortho’s, but his was teal, and the horns were longer than Ortho's. He was using the hoodie to hide his face, despite the long blue flames of hair that lit him. You could also see the pointy tail lying on the ground.

“Sorry.” Your eyes widened. “Your onesies are so cool! And the fact they’re matching is so adorable.”

Idia looked up at you, saw your cat ears with flames that match his own hair, and the ends of that same hair began to turn pink.

“(Y/N), could you help me convince my brother to enter the party. Please.” The please wasn't needed, he was asking you with his cute little brother's voice, and you existed heart couldn’t say no to that. That and you also wanted Idia in the party.

“Um… If I tell you some of the onesies others are wearing, would you feel more comfortable?”

“That could be considered a spoiler but… yah… If the game offers you some hint about the element of your opponent’s attacks, you’re a noob for not taking advantage of that.” And with it he at least got up. Making you be the one looking up.

“Let me see… Ace, Deuce, Trey and Cater are matching to. They’re card soldiers.”

“Um… I think I saw the pack online…”

“Riddle is a red hedgehog.”

“WHA-? Riddle-shi is here?! And on a hedgehog onesie?!”

“Right? I was as chocked as you.”

“Well, from the small sample my theory still holds.” Idia whispered with a smug smile.

“So, will you enter with me Ni-san?”

“Y-yes. I-I can go with you.”

Ortho happily thanked you and tugged his big brother by his onesie sleeve. After they entered you could see in both onesies a little pair of demon wings.

You were still waiting for someone else. But it seemed to be taking longer than the others.

“Kalim. Please tell me that you didn’t forget to invite de guys from Diasomnia.”

“I could swear I invited everyone… AH! That's what I forgot to tell Lilia in music club meeting!”

“What?! You didn’t invite them?!”

“Don’t warry, (Y/N).” Jamil said to you. “I made sure to go to the music club room after their meeting was over and I came across Lilia on the corridor. I can assure you that I informed him of the party.”

You could hug and kiss this boy right there and then and it shown on your eyes. “Oh Jamil, you’re the best!” he said it was nothing as he hid his face in his onesie's hoodie.

Despite that, you were only relieved when you finally heard another knock on the door. You open it with an expectant smile on your face and...

Nobody?

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Aaaahh! Lilia!” you scold.

Lilia just did one of his popped out of nowhere upside-down things. This time appearing on the top of your door trim.

“Fuhuhu. Forgive me, but I couldn’t resist.” He said as he turned to land his feet on the floor. He was wearing a black dragon onesie, with fluffy horns and tail and a purple belly.

You looked at him, he looked at you.

“You look so cute!” you both said to each other at the same time. And while you were laugh it off, three tallest figures appeared behind Lilia.

They were all wearing the same black dragon onesies. The only exception was that Malleus' onesie didn't have the fluffy horns. Instead, there were holes on the hoodie specially made for his real horns take the place of the fake ones. He had his charming, delighted smile on. The smile he always has when he's invited for something.

“Indeed, that is certainly a flattering attire. Especially on you, Child of Man.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and blush. “Come on in! I want to see your onesies better.”

“HA!” Sebek yelled. “A human capable of understand the grandiosity of waka-sama to be willing to admire his figure in such admirable garment.” He was probably calling the onesie admirable because it was design based on the dragon form of the Thorn Fairy.

This also made a sleeping Silver standing next to Malleus wake up. He sighed. “I knew this onesie was too comfortable.” He was the last one entering the hall.

It was funny seeing Sebek so proud for using a dragon’s onesie alongside his Waka-sama. Seeing sleepy Silver on that onesie was one of the cutest sights of the night. But you also felt sorry for him because he was struggling more than usual to stay awake.

And Malleus, the warm way he was looking at you on your Grim onesie plus how cute he was on his, you suddenly felt like hugging him. He would probably like it. Sebek wouldn't.

You told them they could join the others on the lounge, and they started walking there. But you saw Malleus staying behind with you, and with a little help from Lilia, the other two didn't realise it. The moment they walked in the lounge you heard Sebek starting an argument with Ace about their onesies.

“Is something wrong, Tsunotarou?”

“Do you remember me giving you permission to touch my horns?”

“Yes.” And you already did it once or twice.

“I know they are part of your suit, but would you allow me to touch your ears?”

It took you a moment to finally answer with a wanna-be smug smile. “You can touch them, if you're willing to suffer the consequences for the audacity.” And you even dared to try to strike one of Malleus' powerful poses.

“Ha ha ha ha.” You successfully made him give you one of his genuine laughs. “Fine then. I have never been one to cowered over anything.” He got closer to you, reached out his hands and started petting your cat ears.

And while he was entertained by that, you hugged him. He widened his eyes looking down at you on his chest.

“The consequences.” You told him. What made him giggled and return the hug.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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His Muse

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader Warnings: Yandere Bakugou, Obsessive Tendencies, psychoanalyst therapist reader, smut, extremely dubious consent, stalking, kindapping (tagging to be safe), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampies, kitchen sex, strength kink, threats of violence (not to reader). please let me know if I missed anything! Word Count: 6.5k Notes: this isn't a more violent yandere fic, and has lots of bargaining and dub con, just as a warning!! but I can't believe I came up with this idea in November omg I move so slow when it comes to full fics. also I tried gradient style for the title and I love it lol it was so fun to try. anyway, please enjoy!! Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI! Also available on ao3!

When Bakugou comes to you to be his therapist, you don’t think twice about it. He filled out his application correctly, he answered when you called, his insurance went through, his problems sounded legit. You had become wary taking on new patients in your field—dealing with criminals, those with hardened and extensive records, people with all kinds of issues that an everyday therapist wouldn’t be able to handle accordingly. But you did it all (someone had to), so your vetting process was a little heavier than usual, if the therapy wasn’t state mandated.

But Bakugou Katsuki passed with flying colors. If anything, he sounded a little too normal for your line of work, but he kept promising that his issues would be better discussed during sessions. With a little hesitance, you agree and take him on.

He’s…okay, for the most part. A little gruff, rough around the edges and snappy when you try to touch on certain topics of his life. But in general, he’s a great patient; he pays on time, shows up five minutes early, doesn’t linger when your next patient comes buzzing, doesn’t try to touch you or seek out personal information from you.

If anything, he still seems a bit too strait-laced for you. That is, until he starts to delve into why he really wants to come to therapy—to deal with his tendencies of rage, lashing out, and obsession. You had told him that you didn’t deal much with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but he had assured you that, no, his obsessions and compulsions weren’t about checking the locks a certain amount of times on a Wednesday, but instead about people.

He obsessed over people, and when things wouldn’t go his way, his rage would rear its ugly head. He still hasn’t told you what his rage specifically looks like, especially with how he momentarily glances over at your little message pinned on your wall that warns people about admitting criminal acts that you’d have to report, damn the confidentiality.

“When did these obsessions start?” You ask him, body tilted toward him even though your eyes and hands move to your open computer. You document what he says, take note of it all, skimming over previous notes from other appointments.

“Maybe about eighteen months ago?” Bakugou’s voice is gravelly, deep and grating against the column of his throat. As he answers, he shoves his hands in his sweats pockets, scoots down a little further on your adjacent couch, looks around the room as if he hadn’t been in here a few times before.

“So this is a more recent development?” You ask, humming under your breath and nodding when he grunts an affirmation. You type, obsessive tendencies over people started less than two years ago, could be trauma based, and you wonder if he can read the words through the reflection of your glasses when you look over to see his eyebrows screwed down.

“Was it sudden for you?” You cock your head to the side, before shaking your head. “Let me rephrase; did these tendencies ever show their faces in other aspects of your life? Different time periods, situations? Or was it just a sudden thing that happened, something you realized once the obsession had already begun?” He starts nodding his head before you can even finish, his ash blond bangs shadowing his eyes for a second in such a way that sends a prickle of chills up your arms. You don’t know why, so you try to swallow the feeling down until it burns at the back of your throat, shifting a little in your cushioned seat. Bakugou watches you for a second before he opens his mouth to speak.

“It was sudden.” He answers, plainly, doesn’t offer up much else until you cock an eyebrow at him, signaling for him to go on. He rolls his eyes and huffs under his breath, shifting again before he shrugs dramatically with his hands still in his pockets.

“I dunno, I was fuckin’ normal until I wasn’t.” You chuckle a little at his tone, crossing your legs under the desk, watching how Bakugou’s vermillion eyes dart down to catch the sight of them, before they slide back up to your face.

“You’ve been in a relationship before?” You state more than ask, eyebrows slid high on your face in question, watching Bakugou roll his eyes a little before he nods.

“Yeah.” He offers, his mouth set in a thin line, obviously not wanting to offer up too much information on the topic.

“How many?” You push. How the hell does he expect you to help him when he keeps giving you short answers, nothing to work with? Why even seek out your help if he acts like being here is such a nuisance to deal with?

“Two.” Bakugou says through gritted teeth, eyes cutting at the decorations you have hung on the walls. “What does this have to do with anything, anyway?” He spits, cuts his eyes at you once more as you narrow your own at him.

“I’m trying to find a connection between your sudden obsessive tendencies with your relationships with people in the world.” You clarify for him, sitting up a little in your seat as his own irritation bubbling off of him starts to sink into your pores, too.

“People rarely have sudden personality flips and switches with no leading causes beforehand. Did these tendencies start because of preexisting mommy issues that were suddenly uncovered after being repressed for years? Were you in a long and committed relationship, which ended in such a way that it wasn’t necessarily on your terms, even if it was ultimately your own call? Was it an accident you were in? Have you always been like this and never realized it? Do you understand what I’m saying, Katsuki?”

…

Bakugou isn’t taking in a single word that you’re telling him. He wishes he could; he’s sure you’re saying some real shit that he should most likely take into consideration. But its so hard to focus when you look at him like that, when your neck rolls a little with every word, when your foot bounces under the desk, the way your lips curve just so.

You’re the reason he’s even here right now. The bane of his fuckin’ existence, but also the only thing that matters to him in the world.

You are his obsession. His muse, his fantasy, his daydream turned reality. And it’s all your fucking fault. With how you prance around your home with your curtains open, wearing nothing but slutty little shirts and no bra, no pants, just panties that sink into the curves of your ass and thighs. How you just go about your life without a care in the fucking world, always so oblivious to everything around you.

You hadn’t even noticed him, the months he spent watching over you. Didn’t catch his lingering stares, or how his ash blond head of hair always seemed to be at least ten feet behind you with every step you took. How your long time neighbor from across the hall suddenly disappeared, how a new tenant moved in when he knew you’d be out. How you forget entirely too often to lock your door, to put your used panties in the hamper. How you tease him with everything, how you’ve been fucking leading him on for over a year and a half now.

So, he had to get desperate. Had to search you up and find what qualifications he needed in order to be seen by you, a psychoanalytical therapist for those who want to be reformed.

But Bakugou had no plans on reformation. There was nothing for him to be reformed on. He just wanted you, and goddamnit, if he wasn’t going to have you.

“I understand you, doc. Loud and clear.”

***

It was your day off, and you had plans on spending it in your bed, catching up on some reading and maybe finishing that one show you started a while ago. But, lunch time came around, and you were craving something specific and didn’t have all the ingredients that you needed. You figured you could go out to the grocery store to grab them, get some fresh air on the way there, and maybe stop at that book shop you had been eyeing for a while.

You get ready quickly, closing your front door behind you, pausing for a second to stare at the door across the hall. You still can’t believe Ms. Hayashi had so suddenly moved out, especially after living in this complex since it was first built. She hadn’t even said goodbye, and you never got the chance to return the Tupperware she lended you.

It wouldn’t have been as weird if someone hadn’t supposedly moved in the next day. You were a gossip with your landlord, a nice older lady, and she gave you all up the updates on the people who lived in the complex. She had said that he was a nice guy, kind of scary and intimating in stature, but respectful the whole time. Said that he didn’t even look at the apartment before giving her the first six months rent and despot in cash. She told you to ever call her if you smelled meth cooking from that apartment, as no one who works a regular job just has that kind of money laying around.

You shrug to yourself, coming to the conclusion that maybe the new owner just needed to get out of town, away from somewhere or someone else. Everyone has their reasonings, and you can’t analyze every single move someone you haven’t even met before has ever made.

You continue down the steps until you’re out of the building, unaware of the crimson eyes that follow your every movement. The walk to the store is a little longer than you’d like for it to be, but you figure that the exercise can do you some justice, and it’s always nice being out in nature. You stop and pick a flower that grows from a crack in the sidewalk, twirling it in your finger the whole way to the store, finally tucking it behind your ear when you have to grab a grocery cart.

And still—and still—you don’t see the eyes that watch you. The figure that follows your every move, that disappears behind walls and aisles every time you turn your back. You feel it though, he can tell, because you move a little quicker and look over your shoulder more than usual.

You go to the self checkout, trying to hurry now, as an uneasy feeling starts to wash over you. You get these often, especially working in the field that you do with the patients that you choose to take on—hardened criminals, fresh out of jail and still ready to harm society, people that just like to see the world burn for the fun of it.

The therapist is typically one of the first few people to be taken out, after parents. You’re always too high on the list for your liking, despite loving your job.

You keep trying to scan an item, but it’s not working, and that only makes your panic settle in deeper into your bones. You try to remember the techniques that you give people when they start to feel overwhelmed by their emotions and what goes on in their heads, but its hard when that sinking feeling only grows deeper and heavier by the moment until—

“Need some help with that?” You jump away quickly, eyes wide as you hold up the can of soup you were gripping tightly like a weapon. You let out a breath though, only in slight relief, to see that its one of your patients standing beside you—Bakugou Katsuki. He looks different than he usually does in your sessions together; he’s wearing a tight compression shirt that hugs his wide shoulders, navy blue in color, sweatpants that wrap around the thick muscles in his thighs, and plain running shoes.

For some reason though, the panic in your stomach doesn’t fully quell at the sight of him.

“No, I got it. Thanks though, Bakugou.” You tell him politely, smiling shakily. Why does the sight of him unnerve you so bad? You’ve run into patients before on the street, and they never make you feel like this, this uneasy, even when it was dark and you were dressed more scantily than you are now, with your baggy pants and too big shirt.

“You sure?” He grunts, cocking his head at you as he gently pries the can from your still tight grip. “I watched you struggle with it for like, two minutes. Let me.” He tells you, never taking his eyes off of you as he scans your item easily enough. He only looks away when he bags it for you, and starts to scan the rest of your things as if you weren’t standing there.

“Oh no, it’s okay, I can finish that myself.” You wave him off him with a shaky smile, finally breaking out of your stupor when he’s damn near finished. You reach out to stop him, but Bakugou only waves you away with a grunt.

“’S alright. It’s the least I can do for you helping me figure my crazy out.” Bakugou shrugs at you, a joke you’re presuming, as he glances over at you with a tiny lilt at the corner of his mouth. It calms you, only for a second, before something ever so slightly changes in his eyes, in the way he looks at you and takes you in, makes you feel like something sinister is sinking deep into your bones. Your stomach tightens again, and you have to force a smile when he finishes, before it drops when you see him reaching for his wallet.

“Oh, I really can’t let you pay for my groceries.” You tell him, stepping up to him before pausing when he looks at you out of the corner of his eye with an expression so terrifying, that it makes stone drop into the pit of your belly.

“Let me.” Bakugou tells you more than asks you, and you nod slowly, swallowing the thickness that has settled into the back of your throat. You can only watch as he pulls out a wad of cash, counting through it before inserting it into the machine, mouth set in a thin line all the while. You try to take him in, figure out where his own groceries are to be in this section, where all this money is coming from, if his address that he put on the file is even anywhere near this area.

It’s not.

“Cmon.” Bakugou snaps you out of your trance, big veiny hands holding all of your groceries as he nods his head to the exit. You’re stuck there, wondering if this is really happening, if these are just boundaries being crossed or a crime about to be committed. You feel tears stinging at your eyes as you try to blink them away, hiccuping slightly as you slowly shake your head.

“Please give me my groceries, Bakugou.” You don’t even recognize your own voice, soft and shaky and purely terrified. Bakugou fixes you with another deadly expression but this time—this time he smiles at you, and its everything but friendly. All big white teeth and too sharp incisors, all falsely charming and all weaponry, all threat with no escape from his drooling maw.

“I think we should go home, now. Don’t you?” He asks you with a cock of his head, body still turned to the exit, his stature eery with how the veins in his neck throb with every second you stay rooted in your spot. “Before something happens to these nice people in here, right? Before they have to bear witness to a massacre, all because you don’t want to walk home with me.”

You have to bite back your sob that bubbles up in your throat. You’re terrified of what will happen to you, but you’re a caretaker first. You have to put yourself before these people, put yourself before the monster that wants you as a sacrifice before he burns an entire village down for you.

So you nod, and take the hand offered to you as he switches the groceries to one hand, just to squeeze yours in the other.

You leave out of the grocery store with tears muddled in your eyes, a quivering chin that you try to conceal, hope no one wants to be a hero and find themselves hurt, or worse, because you can’t school your expressions.

This was taught in a psychology course you took in college, you remember. One of your classes after you started working on your highest degree—what to do in real life situations as a psychologist. How to avoid more conflict when a patient is erratic. How to deescalate. How to survive.

Everything you’ve ever learned has gone out the window now.

You and Bakugou walk down the street hand in hand, looking like a normal couple for the most part, besides your trembling jaw and shaky steps. You glance up to him, watching him squint in the sunlight before he glances down at you, squeezing your hand gently, as if to comfort you, as if he weren’t the cause of your panic. You notice that he’s walking right in the direction of your apartment, as if the route were memorized.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask shakily, mouth full of cotton as Bakugou keeps his head forward, grinning. He glances at you again, eyes bouncing between the delicate flower tucked behind your ear, and the terrified expression your eyes carry.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, doesn’t offer up anymore information until you stand outside of your building. “You know, for you to be a therapist to fuckin’ weirdos, you don’t watch your back good enough for my liking.”

You didn’t think your stomach could sink any lower, but it does. It does when the realization settles, when his words kick in—that he’s been watching you, but for how long? How could you not have noticed? Did he even contact you because he needed help, or was this only a way to grow closer to you, to his obsession?

Before you know it, Bakugou has walked you up the stairs until you reached your floor. Your body turns to instinctively to your door, but you’re pulled in the other direction.

“Wha—” you go to ask Bakugou, before you notice he’s set your groceries down to fiddle with the key to…to the apartment across the hall from you. You feel the tears flood again, letting them flow this time since no one is around to try and save you and put themselves in harms way anymore.

“It’s been you? This whole time?” You ask slowly, starting to pull away when Bakugou opens the door to Ms. Hayashi’s apartment, still decorated the same before she mysteriously disappeared—you don’t think its so mysterious anymore.

“Of course it’s been me.” Bakugou scoffs as he grips your hand tighter, pulling you closer until you near the doorway. “I had to watch over you—do you know how careless you are with everything? With your life?” He snarls, whirling around on you when you plant your feet and try to keep him from pulling you into his lions den. Bakugou is all snarls and teeth, invokes such a deep fear within you that you can’t help but shrink under his gaze.

“Now come on. I’ve been waiting for this for entirely too long.” His voice is downright salacious, eyes turning sharp and hungry, and in a way that makes you feel like nothing more than hunted prey.

Bakugou damn near drags you within the apartment, despite your whimpering and pulling at him—he’s just too strong. He walks you a few feet inside before he dumps the groceries on a coffee table, finally letting go of your hand so that he can lock the door, emerging a key from his sweatpants pocket to one of the many, many locks, an insurance policy of you never leaving him unless he allows it.

You try to put on your therapist boots for a minute, swallowing your fear as you try to reason with him, swallowing thickly when he turns around and takes your trembling form in.

“Bakugou,” you start shakily, “this doesn’t have to end bad for us. You can just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t report you, or anything. Please, please, PLEASE!”

He comes rushing at you before you know it, on you in seconds, despite trying to turn and outrun him before he pounces. But it’s too late and he’s too big and too overwhelming, and he grabs you up in his arms, shushing your screaming with his mouth pressed against yours.

So this is what he wants, you think to yourself, terrified to say you’re slightly relieved. You’ve worked with men who liked to torture women for fun, and you were scared that he was secretly one of them, but it looks like he just wants—

“You.” Bakugou whispers with a swallow against your mouth, hot and breathy. “I want you so fuckin’ bad, wanted this for so long, fuck.” He’s wrapping you up within him in seconds, arms crushing your ribs, tongue sneaking into your mouth, hands grabbing handfuls of whatever he can reach.

You’re stunned, mostly. Finally putting the pieces together of everything that is Bakugou, his coming to you about his obsessions, his secrecy despite needing your help, the way he always looked at you, how he devours you now like a mere schoolboy. It all makes sense now. You pull away from him, eyes round and wide as you take in his lowered ones, how he dives back in to nip at your jaw and chin and cheek.

“I’m your obsession.” You whisper shakily, hands on his shoulders, despite them making no moves to move the large man back. Bakugou groans at that, damn near sinks to his knees at your realization, wraps you up even tighter as he buries his face into the skin of your neck.

“Fuckin’ finally. Thought you would’ve caught on sooner by now, dumbass.” He scolds you, licking up the expanse of your skin as you shiver and try to back away. But Bakugou only holds you tighter, and you whimper at the bulge that nudges your hip.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve—could’ve worked on exposure therapy, had someone there to monitor you for our safety, could’ve—”

“Too much work. I just want you.” Bakugou moans, nipping at your skin, grabbing handfuls of your ass when you squeak. He walks you backwards until your back meets a wall, the breath being knocked out of you as you gasp, eyes wide when he finally pulls away from your skin.

You’ve never seen him like this, all fucked out and relaxed and even a little excited. Always saw him with a bored or irritated expression, one of indifference. But now, Bakugou looks high on euphoria, with kiss swollen lips and low eyelids as he takes in your still shocked expression.

“Let me taste you,” Bakugou rushes out in a quick breath, diving in once more to lick at your mouth before he pulls away, big hands squeezing at your waist and ass excitedly. He’s like a dog with a bone, like a pup with no master, waiting for you to give the command, the permission to go.

You wonder if you have more control of this situation than you originally thought. So you try your hand, see how far you can push before you can wiggle your way out of this entire thing and get the chance to call the police.

“Bakugou,” you start, quickly being cut off by him with a sharp nip to your chin.

“Katsuki,” he corrects. You nod.

“Katsuki, if I—if I let you do this, this one thing of…of tasting me, will you promise to let me go?” You try to reason with him, cupping his cheek when his eyes wander over your form instead of your face, leaning into your touch instinctively.

“We can,” you pause with a swallow. “I can do this. I can create a therapy plan for you, for your obsession over me, and it can be fully consenting and healthy, but you have to let me help you and let me take control.” You try to reason with Bakugou, hope he understands what you’re saying, that he won’t catch on to this just being a trick. But he only groans and turns his head, sucking your thumb into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at your gasp before he releases you with a pop. He turns half lidded vermillion eyes to you, frowning as he rests his heavy head in your palm.

“Whatever you fuckin’ say, just let me taste you, goddamnit.” He mutters petulantly. You can only hold your breath, wonder if what you’re agreeing will hurt you in the long run before you nod.

“You can—you can taste me, Katsuki.”

You think you might’ve sealed the deal with a devil, with the way you can practically see horns protruding from his forehead and a tail flickering behind him when he drops to his knees. Bakugou is too quick for your liking, yanks your pants around your ankles too fast, hurries you out of them, rips your underwear away from your skin until it tears and falls limply in a pile on the floor.

You squeak when his face is suddenly pressed right against your cunt, his nose buried into your pubic hair, the sound of a big sniff echoing throughout the room. You can’t help but cringe, but don’t dare push him away—people need to be exposed to all aspects of things in order to overcome them, even if those things are sniffing what lies between your legs.

“Fuck, smells so good.” Bakugou grunts under his breath, huffing a few times before he forces your legs further apart until you can accommodate the wide expanse of his shoulders. You grunt from the stretch, trying to make yourself comfortable, but Bakugou picks up on it quickly, and grabs your knee to hike your leg over his shoulder to rest on.

It creates a better angle for him anyway, with your lips glistening with your arousal—you were aroused. Turned on by him just as much as he was with you. You were wet, even if it’s not as much as he would prefer, as he would get you to that amount in only a matter of time.

You throbbed when his tongue traced the hood of your clit, of your lips, your folds. You twitch hard against his mouth when he keeps licking and licking at you, until your slickness and his spit mingle and he doesn’t know where you end and where he begins. Until it makes a mess of his mouth and chin and the floor below him, and you, with your pretty moans and grabbing hands.

Bakugou has waited for this moment longer than he can really care to remember, at this point in time. Waited to worship you on his knees, be able to look up from between your soft thighs and see the scrunch of your brows when he sucks your clit between his lips and runs over it with the flatness of his tongue.

It’s an addictive feeling, really. Makes him feel higher than any drug could ever take him, makes his eyes roll back and his cock throb so hard that he has to grab it from beneath his sweats to keep from busting his load already.

You can only stand there and take it—take the incessant licking around your hole, and the dipping of his tongue inside of you, and the sweet little kisses he plants on your clit. You try to reason with yourself, convince yourself that this is an improvised session with a client that needed your help so badly that you decided to take him on your day off. Try to tell yourself that this is all apart of the therapy that he needs in order to get over you.

You only hope that the taste of you doesn’t become so addictive, that your plans for him will go flying out the window the moment you try to reason with him.

But its hard to reason even with yourself when Bakugou is sliding a thick, middled finger inside of your dripping hole as he noisily sucks your clit between his lips. You cry out at that, knees wobbling, but he’s there to catch you with his free hand, his shoulder. Holds you up steady like a pillar as he lashes his tongue against you, twists his finger, curves it slowly, before he’s adding another one before you can even register what’s happening to you.

“Shit, Katsuki,” you moan out, cursing yourself for letting him make you feel so good, for getting so wrapped up in this ‘therapy’. You can only hope that the board doesn’t take your license if they were to ever find out about it.

“Thats it, baby, ride my fingers just like that.” Bakugou breaks you out of your trance with his groan. You hadn’t even realize how your hips were moving against him, grinding down on his digits that curl up inside of you, that slide against that swelling spot that makes your knees weak and your eyes cross.

“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” Bakugou whispers against your mound, trailing spit from his mouth down to your clit once more, eyes never leaving the pleasured look on your face.

Did you know he imagined this, in damn near every session he’s ever had with you? While it wasn’t plenty of sessions (he had only started seeing you about six months ago), it was all he could think of. Every Tuesday at 2:45pm, in office number 218, first door on the right, the mint green office—all he could think of was you. Even when you asked him questions with a professional and friendly smile, even when you were covered head to toe, even when you ripped him a new one for his shitty answers and responses.

This was all he wanted, all he craved to see. The way your mouth dropped open when he starts damn near directing you in how he wants you to ride his fingers. How your hips move and swivel and tremble when he keeps bringing his fingers close to his face, inside of you. How you grip so tightly at his hair and pull when he won’t stop sucking and licking and messily kissing your clit. How he damn near makes out with your hole, tongue drooling and smacking against your soaked skin until he feels himself about to burst in his pants.

This was all he wanted, and Bakugou always gets what he wants. Even if its you—especially if it’s you.

“I’m—oh, I think I’m—shit!” Your brain is damn near fried when you start to orgasm, an earth shattering moan slipping from your throat as you throw your head back, hips bucking against Bakugou’s face and hands. He has to hold your entire body up steadily, fears that you may fall from how hard you’re coming, how you shake in his arms.

His fingers are steady inside of you, and only slows when you start to finally come down from your high. Bakugou kisses the inside of your thigh sweetly, nibbles at it when you groan and complain about feeling too weak from the intensity. But that’s not a problem for him at all.

“Hey—what are you—” Bakugou cuts you off with a wet kiss pressed to your mouth when he stands to his full height. His tongue slides against yours and you can’t help but moan when you taste yourself on him. He doesn’t give you a chance to step away and try to slink back to your own apartment, instead hoisting you up quickly in his arms as he starts to walk to a room behind you.

Before you can protest, you’ve been dumped on the kitchen table, Bakugou pressing you down with a hand to your sternum when you try to sit up, shooting you another one of those eery looks from earlier. You still instantly, before slowly lowering yourself back down on the table, eyes wide again when he levels you with a stare for a beat longer before he steps back to yank his shirt over his head.

“I thought,” you mumble, trying not to stare at how well built Bakugou is, how his biceps might literally be bigger than your entire head. “I thought that we agreed for you to only, um, taste me, and then you’d stop.” Its hard finding your voice when Bakugou stares at you like that again, not scarily, but hungry like before. Hard to fight back and push him away when he grabs your shirt in two hands and rips and pulls until your torso is exposed, like the fabric meant nothing to him.

You clench your thighs at the display of strength and hope that he doesn’t notice. (He does).

Bakugou shrugs at you, pulls your bra down until your tits are on display, grabbing a handful of each and massaging them in warm, sweaty palms. He ducks his head down and gives a sweet kiss to both of your nipples, licking one crudely before he stands back up to his full height, your breasts still in his hands. You think he must’ve forgotten what you said, or simply didn’t care to answer, but he surprises you when he squeezes your tits tightly and speaks,

“Think I need a little more exposure before I have to be reduced to doses only, doc.” Is all Bakugou gives you, squeezing your chest one last time before he pulls away. You try not to show the panic on your face when he reaches to pull his sweats down until they bunch around his corded thighs, cock damn near bursting from its confinements.

Bakugou reaches inside of his boxers, biting at his bottom lip when he touches it directly for the first time since he’s gotten you, groans a little at your gasp when he fully exposes himself. He’s thick, curved a little to the side, his head a dark flushed color, a fat vein forking up the side of his shaft. He rests his cock over you, makes a soft little noise in the back of his throat when the precum slides from his tip and pools in the dip of your bellybutton.

“Shit, I love you so fuckin’ much,” Bakugou mutters under his breath as he positions himself at your entrance. Your eyes bulge at his confession, but before you can even touch on what he’s said, he’s already sliding his way inside of you.

Your head falls against the kitchen table, the dull pain quiet compared to the overwhelming pleasure that settles low in your pelvis. You groan, thighs hooked around Bakugou’s waist as he fucks his way inside of you, a moan on his tongue as he watches the way your lips split and suck him inside so, so sweetly.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t wait anymore,” Bakugou mutters against your mouth. As he soon as he settles inside of you, he’s pulling out until his tip kisses your entrance, before he fucks his way back in. You shudder, his cock warm and heavy inside of you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every stroke until you start to cling to him and ask for more, more, more.

And Bakugou gives it to you, with feral growls, hiking your legs up higher until they rest on his shoulders, hunching over you with every wet slap of his balls against your ass. The position forces him even deeper, makes your feet dangle entirely too close to your face, Bakugou leaning over to kiss you sweetly on the ankle.

“So, fuck, what’s the diagnosis, doc?” Bakugou taunts you, grinning down at you when you blink bleary eyes up at him. He’s sweaty and golden and has a halo of light behind his ash blond hair from the overhead light. He’s prettier than you want to admit, but its hard trying to keep a face of professionalism when his cock keeps kissing your sweet spot and his chest pressed against yours makes your nipples harder than rocks.

“Huh? What happened to that fucking smart ass that would lecture me in our sessions?” He teases, smile wide and feral as he holds your cheeks tightly between his thick fingers. He forces your mouth into a pout, kissing it, when you blabber nonsense up at him.

“Fucked you dumb already? All those years of college right out the door, huh, baby?” Bakugou’s so mean, makes you whine and claw at his shoulders and nape. You could answer him, give him your professional opinion—not like you even had one in the first place—but he makes it so hard to think. When his cock is balls deep inside of you, when he looks at you with his teasing and yet adoring little grin, when he keeps shaking your face at him with a taunting coo, when he sneaks a hand between your bodies to circle your clit.

“It’s okay; I can think for you. You don’t have to use that pretty little head even once when you’re with me.” Bakugou’s coos sweetly, reaches down and pecks your forehead and mouth when you whimper pathetically up at him with teary eyes.

“Gonna cum? Yeah?” He asks you, hips never faltering as he fucks you into the table, his mouth pressed against yours as you grab him tightly, feeling the oncoming orgasm starting to flood your system.

“Yeah,” you whine softly against his mouth through your puckered lips, making Bakugou groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. You tighten up around him so deliciously, sound so pretty with your fucked out moans and hoarse voice, look so gorgeous all high out of your mind and pliant on his kitchen counter.

How could he ever remember to pull out?

You try to protest when Bakugou holds you tight and starts to cum inside of you, but your complaints fall on deaf ears. He only holds you tighter against him, groaning loud in the skin of your neck as his cock spurts his hot seed deep inside of you. When he finishes, he collapses on top of you, breathy and sweaty, and you’re in no better position. Its quiet for a while, despite your legs and back aching, and the cooling feeling of his cum starting to spill from around his softening cock still buried inside of you.

“So,” Bakugou starts, and you’re almost fearful of what he might say next. “Can you start scheduling my appointments to your apartment instead of your office now?”

You’re at least a little thankful that he has plans to let you go back to your life, even if he’s forcing himself to be apart of every little aspect of it. You nod tiredly, wondering how and if you’re going to tell your boss.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬#tw: yandere #tw: stalking #tw: dubcon

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jaegerisim · 10 months

Text

Vent post y'all are gonna hate me for.

I viscerally hate how the Duffers treat most of their non white or queer characters and I hate even more viscerally, how y'all big byler blogs in your circle jerk of other 5 big byler blogs casually like to ignore many red flags the show has.

Y'all like to say: "tHe DufFeRs ArE gReAt WrIteRs" and it's like girl, who are you lying to??? They aren't top shit writers at all. The Duffers are pretty mid imo. Yeah, they run a good show that's fun to watch and theorize abt , but that doesn't mean they're good writers cuz they're not.

1. they completely side lined Will during s3 for the sake of their straight romances: lumax, jancy, mlvn, duzie and partly stobin (even if stobin wasn't endgame, thankfully, Steve's intentions were clearly wanting to date Robin and they gave it a lot of screen time). Will was sidelined bc he didn't fit the straight romance plotline bc they planned to make him gay or whatever. Now in s4 Will and his feelings have been used as mlvn toilet paper. Yes, we like to say this is build up for byler but canonically, Will's feelings have been used to clean the shit mlvn leaves behind.

2. Billy was sympathized a lot during the last 2 seasons. They gave him the sad backstoryTM in order for ppl to feel sorry for him. Billy's backstory is literally Jonathan's but whatever.

3. El's anger issues are constantly girlboss-ified. They down play her bullying situation and literally just use it for El to be a ''girlboss" without realizing how triggering that is. As someone who has lived bullying, seeing it be ignored by canon and fanon is super sad. The whole Rink-O' Mania experience must have been so traumatizing for her yet, everyone absolutely forgets abt it 🤷🏻‍♀️

4. Robin, Erica and Argyle are stereotypical characters. Robin is the quirky lesbian with social anxiety, Erica is the badass black woman and Argyle is the Latino stoner that sells weed to white kids and works as a pizza delivery guy.

5. Altho Argyle and Eddie both do drugs, (Eddie actually sells K-12 to a minor and nobody batted an eye. He has a huge fan base). Eddie is held in a pedestal bc "poor thing 🥺 he lives in a trailer with his uncle 🥺". Tell me a single fact you know abt Argyle that isn't "he smokes weed", "he is Jonathan's only friend", "drives a van" and "he works at a pizzeria". Exactly, Eddie is given a useless backstory and Argyle isn't.

6. Dustin stopped being important to the plot sometime around s2 and s3. He is only there to curse and be mildly funny. My guy needs to hangout with ppl his age cuz he only hangs out with seniors.

7. El needs to stop having so much "I'M THAT BITCH" screentime like I need in s5 for El's arc to not just be her becoming more powerful and falling in love with Mike. I need the Duffers to explore her trauma and problems.

8. Angela should have been run over by the van.

9. Patrick should have been given a backstory that isn't the basic "strict black parents that hit their kids cuz they are a disgrace". Patrick's backstory is actually racist af, fight w the wall.

10. As Lex already said, they didn't trigger tag the ep where Jason and his friends assault Lucas and Erica. Like wtf? Why was that necessary? Why did I have to see a black boy being held at gunpoint by some white guy?? Was it relevant to the plot?? I don't think so. And then I've got to see ppl online be like "Jason wasn't that bad. He was just mourning" like bitch you can stfu. This is what happens when you make the racist assholes conventionally attractive.

Also the fact that Lucas's arc is fulfilled by him fist-fighting Jason and "embracing his weirdness" aka accepting he is black. His arc was not fulfilled at all cuz that ending spoke so loud to me. It showed how little empathy ppl have towards the struggles poc ppl living in the Midwest have. Y'all circle jerks can only see racism when it's super obvious.

Furthermore, parents complained when ST showed "an excessive amount of smoking" yet nobody batted an eye when Billy tried to run over Lucas, when Erica (an 11 y.o ffs) was chased by white kids or when Lucas was held at gunpoint by Jason.

All of this happened while they focused on Max's guilt and mourning that, yeah, are important but certainly not less important than racism!!!

11. In s3, they gave us that whole Nancy vs The Bigots arc that was honestly just triggering and useless. It didn't help Nancy's character at all, quite the opposite it put unnecessary angst.

12. Lonnie being presented as an abuser just for him to never be spoken of again. Can we please get to explore the trauma he left the Byers's with?

13. The fact that both queer relationships are considered "sloppy seconds" is extremely sad. Both Vickie and Mike are rebounding from their failed relationship with Robin and Will. These 2 ships have caused more commotion than Jancy and Jopper together! (These last ships are technically sloppy seconds too but everybody forgets that. Shocker!!)

14. Last but not least, ppl blame Argyle for being the one to get Jonathan into smoking weed as if Jonathan probably wasn't the one looking for it. Let me tell you, that you only find weed if you look for it.

#P.S: I'm gonna pay attention to how many ppl send me hate bc of this or block me #stranger things #lucas sinclair #st vickie #robin buckley #jason stranger things #will byers #dustin henderson #eddie munson #argyle #jonathan byers #erica sinclair #byler #← target audience #byler target audience

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lovelybrooke · 1 month

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Is romantic request OK for bg3? If its is:

When does the companion realise they love Reader ?

Like, what does reader do that make them say to themself "Ah. I love them" ?

So a while a go I talked about the order in which the characters would fall in love with reader, so that is what I'm basing this off of. I really wanted to actually write something so I hope you enjoy it.

Don't judge how I describe magic, okay? it's confusing.

masterlist

---

Gale:

Gale is a romantic at heart, reading romance books, imagining a idyllic life with a lover. When he was younger, he believed his lover would be Mystra, living with the goddess that he dedicated his life to. But now, he finds his wishes to be more complicated. Now you're here, and he finds himself imagining what life would look like if you never leave.

"Gale, what does this one do?" You point to one of his many scrolls.

"It's a simple illumination spell" He responded. "There are much more interesting spells in this pile over here." He pointed to another pile of scrolls, this one inside his tent. You look apprehensive, like you don't want to invade him space. Your care, your kindness, was something new to him. "Go on, take a look, I don't mind." He smiled, watching as you entered his tent and dig through his scrolls, taking great care to not damage them as you explore them.

Your eyes sparkled as you read through each spell, asking question after question about each one. It was times like this that reminded him you were not of this world, so fascinated by things that were so common to others. Every gasp of interest filled his heart with pride, made his mind run with a strange sense of affection. Affection he never felt for another, not even Mystra.

"Wow Gale, these are all so amazing!" As you speak, he's broken out of his thoughts, and he realizes that he is completely and utterly in love with you. Maybe it's a little vain or maybe he's been reading too much, but he craves to hear you praise him more. He wants to hear the sweat sound of your approval be directed towards him, for it to never end.

For once, love and fear don't mix for Gale. He doesn't fear falling in love with you or wanting to devote himself to you. His mind drifts back to Mystra, and he knows it's different. His isn't a boy, someone who can easily be manipulated. He's a man, and he knows what he wants.

And he knows he wants you.

Wyll:

Wyll is valiant, heroic, the exact image of a gentleman. He dedicates his life to protecting the weak, and with you there is no difference.

He doesn't want to call you weak, he knows your inexperience comes from something deeper, but he can't help but pity you whenever your situation. Their fearsome leader, someone from another world, scared and confused, but brave nonetheless. It's admirable honesty, but somedays the world is too cruel, and it agonizing watching you traverse a world that has no care for you.

Like now, as enemies swarm your group, snarling and growling in your direction. You look terrified, but you're hiding it well. But as one of the creatures lunges for your throat, he waits no longer before piercing it through its gut. It twitches and growls before collapsing to the ground. You do similarly, moving towards Wyll and rushing towards his arms. He holds you, feeling your heart beat wildly against him. Your other companions deal with the looting as you quickly compose yourself.

"I'm sorry." You stumble out. "I-i just--"

"No need to apologize." Protectiveness swelled in his chest as he tried so hard to ignore the warmth he once felt when he held you. It was so different than anything else he's felt before. It was comforting, addicting even. He craved it more and more as you backed away from him. He could tell you were disturbed, you've never seen him like this before, but his protectiveness overruled any sense of composure he once had.

"Thank you for protecting me Wyll." You whisper, loud enough for him to hear. In an instant, it was like a weight was lifted from his chest, and he could breathe again. You were safe, he has kept you safe. The warmth, it was spreading through him once more, inviting and so very captivating, just like yourself.

In that moment, Wyll sweared to keep you safe, to protect the warmth that he's come to enjoy. He swears to become your protector, no matter how strong you become, you'll always be his top priority, his captivating love.

Halsin

Your dedication to helping this land is something Halsin finds fascinating. It seems second nature to you, never questioning when someone needs help. It honestly worries Halsin, how easy you can be manipulated by others. Halsin finds himself being worried by you often, like now, as he tends to a gash on your arm, a large wound oozing blood onto the floor of his tent. There is only so much Halsin's healing can do, the bandages on your arm becoming a lass resort from any more serious injuries.

"You must be more careful." He warns you, taking great care to wrap your arm gently, not wanting to inflict more pain onto you. "I do not like seeing you in pain." You seem surprised by his declaration, your eyes widening a fraction. He almost revels in your shock, if it weren't for his concern over your injury.

"You don't have to worry about me." You say once he's finished wrapping your arm. "I am your leader." That was another thing Halsin found fascinating, your bravery. Your sheer determination even while everything else was against you. But he also found it terrifying, seeing you get hurt or put yourself in danger nearly sent his heart into an attack, he just wished you would listen to him.

But he guesses that's what makes you so lovable, your kindness, your bravery, your stubbornness. He wouldn't have you any other way, even if you do fill him with dread from time to time. "Please just--be more careful, for me." He requests, gazing at your wound. Blood has seeped through the cloth already.

You smile "I'll try." Your tone had a light air to it, and Halsin couldn't help but smile.

You were going to be the death of him.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart never understood her peers, but truthfully, her peers never understood her.

She watches with a small scowl as you converse with Wyll, a bright smile on both of your faces, but yours is somehow the only one she can focus on. It angers her--maybe angers isn't the right word, it confuses her. She doesn't understand her companions behavior, you're some random human, gone mad by the parasite. Their adoration, it was strange.

Sometimes, she feels like the only normal person in camp. With Gale clinging onto you like a child, Wyll's near obsession with protecting you, and Halsin's worry over your every move, Shadowheart is to believe that nearly everyone has gone mad. But as she hears you laugh at something Wyll said, and as Wyll somehow moves even closer to you, she starts to believe she's gone mad as well. That same anger burns in her chest and her cheeks glow with embarrassment.

You're so strangely alluring, keeping them entranced to the point of obsession. It's almost maddening how you don't seem to know how taken they all are with you, having them each wrapped around your finger. Shadowheart wants to believe this is all a persona, a ploy to use them for your own gain. But she knows better than to believe something like that, you're not the type to manipulate and lie to people.

She wants to believe that the fire that burns inside her is anger. Anger at you using them, trapping them within your grasps to achieved some strange power beyond their understanding. But in reality, the only thing that burns inside her is jealousy. Jealousy at the others for getting to you first, for taking your time and keeping you close to them at all times.

She'd never admit this out loud however, not wanting anyone to know what you do to her. You are a weakness, she can't have those. But as you call her over to the fire, and as Wyll represses a frown, she finds herself allowing room for weakness, at least for a small while.

Karlach

"Would you like a hug, Karlach?" She would like nothing more, but a part of her is afraid. She trust Dammon and his expertises, but she never wants to hurt you. But as you open up your arms towards her, smiling so brightly, she can't help but wrap you up so tightly, and like expected, you don't burn.

You are everything she's expected and more. You are soft and inviting, and she finds herself not wanting to let you go. You're so warm, but in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It wasn't like the flames of Avernus, hot and overwhelming. It wasn't like the fire burning in her heart. It was like a hearty fireplace on a cold winter day, comforting and familiar, and she found herself missing it as you pull away from her.

"Thank you, Solider." Her voice was sincere. You nod, smiling at her, causing her to smile even more.

Later that night, should couldn't help but think of your warmth, and found herself missing it. It surprised her, how much she wanted to be close to you, how much she wanted to hold your hand, keep you close, and never let go. It worried her, how overwhelming these feelings were, but unlike the fire that once burned in her or her infernal engine, it was something she strangely enjoyed. It reminded her of you, almost like you were forever with her.

As she tries to fall asleep, she finds herself thinking of you, of your hug and your smile, and how she would do anything to feel it again, to never loose you. She knows this won't last forever, Dammon told her as much. Eventually, the heat of her engine will catch up to her and she'll have to make a difficult choice.

But that's something she can think about later, all she wants to do right now is think of you.

Astarion

Astarion thought he was better than his companions. He wasn't going to fall for your act so easily, he's seen it all before. Act helpless in need of saving, have someone to naive and guidable sweep in, and then stab them in the back. He was sure that was what you were up too, but after keeping your act up for weeks, it seemed as though you were playing the long game.

Astarion didn't mind, nor did he judge, he just--wished you weren't so good at it. He wished he didn't fold nearly as fast when you ask him to stitch up your clothing, hiding his blush as you praise him for his work. He wished he didn't seethe with envy whenever you were with another, burning as they hold onto you tighter and tighter. And by gods, he wished he didn't find himself wanting you so damn much.

Astarion pricks his finger as his mind wanters, a small sting spreading through the appendage. A slight hiss leaves his lips before he puts down the shirt his hands, your shirt. It's almost pathetic how much care he puts into repairing your clothing, almost making him laugh. The tear was a small one, there shouldn't be a reason he's keeping it this long, but he finds himself caring a lot about your things, your clothes, your hair, you in general. He hates it, but he can't deny it.

Eventually, he picks the shirt back up, examining it. The old tear, barely noticeable, weights heavily on Astarion's undead heart. Would you notice it? Would you be upset that he failed to do his job correctly? He knows it's stupid to think this way, to care so much about what you think, but he can't help it. You're alluring, captivating even, and it scares him.

It scares him how easily you captivate people. It scares him how easily you captivated him. But most of all, the knowledge of what each of them would do for you scares him the most.

Astarion knows that he's no better than anyone else in your strange group, he's just as swayed by your kindness and compassion as any of them. He's just too scared to admit it.

Lae'Zel

Lae'Zel doesn't like you.

You disturb her, with your strange mutterings and stupidity that has to be due to the parasite. You never seem to know what's going on, and if was in her nature, she would pity you. But of course, she doesn't. She has no reason to feel bad for you, not when everything is at stake, not when any of you could die at any time. But traveling with you has been--eventful to say the least. Her allies seem to see something in you, not that she cares much. You're weak, helpless, insane, and nothing will change that.

Lae'Zel has been taught her entire life that the only thing that matters is keeping herself strong. Surrounding herself with lesser people, weak people, is a distraction to avoid at all cost. But she doesn't have the option now, you are her only option, and she will have to work with what's she's got.

So she protects you, she keeps you safe, and she keeps you alive. She needs you, as little as she wants to admit it. You are important to her cause, nothing else matters. She couldn't care less what you think of her, as long as her parasite is destroyed and her people are saved, that's all that matters.

But she can't deny the surprise she feels when you agree to help her people, when you defend her from the others blatant disrespect, something you claim to be "teasing". She can't help but appreciate it when you, someone so much weaker than her, protect her in battle. It shocking, even more so that she doesn't hate it. She doesn't hate the affection from someone so weak, she doesn't hate it when you rely on her, or when you seek her out.

She doesn't know what she feels exactly, but she knows for a fact that she does not like you.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #yandere bg3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader

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theminecraftbee · 8 months

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So, here's the thing:

Tango knows that Zedaph is this close to staging an intervention.

He lies against the wiring for Decked Out and stares at the ceiling. He should probably be more concerned about that. Early-season Tango would be concerned about that; a situation getting bad enough that Zedaph, of all people, is ready to stage an intervention is normally a sign it's gotten pretty dang bad. But he's close. He's so close. And it's not like he's worried, not anymore.

He'd been worried, once? Like, he'd been scared, at some point of what the Frozen Citadel was starting to do to him. But now that he's there--

If he's asked, Tango will say it's mutualism, and not elaborate, because if anyone stages enough of an intervention to stop Decked Out from finishing what it's started, he's probably going to scream. He's probably going to always wonder. Worst of all, he won't finish the game on time. So like, so what if it's eating him a little? Or a lot? Or basically completely, given that he's pretty sure the damage is irreversible at this point?

Anyway, it doesn't matter. Start of the season Tango probably would care more, but like, it's mutual. Decked Out gets to eat Tango. Use him as an appropriate game piece. Sometimes as a processor. To do repairs. Whatever. It's important for the whole process. And Tango gets a sick game. Which, for some, sounds like an absurd trade-off, but it's not just the game, okay?

It's not just--

If it were just "I need to let my accidentally very sentient and very large base eat me to finish the game", he might do it? But he wouldn't, like, be actively conspiring to hide the fact that he's starting to be physically incapable of breathing like, normal oxygen and stuff. He wouldn't be conspiring to hide just how literal the shop item allowing you to control the gamemaster is. He wouldn't be trying to hide how close he is to just--being another part of Decked Out. Not being a "Tango" as an individual, but being a part of the machine. Basically a really fancy redstone component.

If it were just "he's really proud and he'd be sad if it took longer", he wouldn't have hung a sheep on the outside of the building to make sure some part of Decked Out knows that Zedaph is its friend, once there isn't a Tango to remind it of that properly. He would have asked Zedaph to actually do that intervention he's planning.

He didn't. He acted like he had several more weeks than he probably did. But it's fine. Decked Out ate the fear, anyway, so he can't feel it, and whatever sense of desire to like, not be redstone component was probably eaten also, and. And.

He's not sure how to describe it in a way that doesn't make him sound insane, but--

It's so close. Decked Out is so close to eating him completely. And that should be terrifying, if that weren't the first thing that got dissolved away, if he hadn't been scared since forever. Maybe, somewhere, there's part of him that is scared. There's a lot of him that knows he should be.

But those moments, the ones he's having more and more, where he forgets he's Tango. Where he forgets he's anything but part of the machine. And he's part of something big, and great, and he has a specific use, and he's aware for all of it but not aware of being himself, and he can feel exactly how he's important to the great machine and he does his job and absolutely everything else fades away entirely and he is the Game Master and even that's not an individual identity it's part of a whole it's part of something beautiful it's part of something so, so alive while not being alive at all and, and then--and then he's not done being eaten yet. And the Tango comes in. The fear, the insecurity, the, the flaws.

And he'd just lie there, and he'd feel it. The almost-just-a-part. The sense of just--being, and not being anyone in particular, but being. The lack of self. He'd feel the voltage from the redstone wires and try to capture it again, and be unable to, not on his own.

Not while he's left as Tango, at least a little bit uneaten.

So. Uh. He told you he didn't know how to describe it without sounding insane. But he'll never forgive himself. Never forgive himself if he doesn't find out what happens when it's done. What it's like to just--be a part of Decked Out and nothing else. What it feels like to give in completely.

Therefore. Zedaph. Intervention. Pretend he's better than he is so Zedaph doesn't do that. It shouldn't be long now. The amount of time he's aware and Tango is--less. The amount of fear is--it's entirely gone now. The amount he thinks "gee beginning of season Tango would say this is a bad plan" is almost zero.

The game is almost ready to open.

If he can just hold out that long, then there won't be anything anyone could do.

They'll be too busy having fun with the game, anyway. With any luck, no one will notice.

#hermitcraft #tangotek #a bee fic #hey remember the ficlets about decked out eating tango? well.#the thing is: the obvious way decked out eats its players is by killing them. but killing tango isn't the kind of nutrients decked out need #it needs his mind. it needs his hands. it needs him to play his part.#so the easiest thing for decked out to digest away THERE would just be tango's sense of self.#so he's broken down into the most useful component part of himself to the greater organism #and it got to the fear first so he wouldn't realize quite how bad of an idea letting it finish might be.#horror #idk what kind of horror so here take the tag #anyway. this thought won't leave my head so have fun!

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writingoddess1125 · 6 months

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I'm not sure if you take CoD requests but I was wondering if maybe you could do headcanons for Alejandro(if you write for him) with a reader who's Cajun, has a Cajun accent, and calls him Sha(its Cajun slang for sweetheart/dear/darling)

If you don't write for Alejandro, maybe Price or Soap

Oh this is so cute!!

Support me on Ko-Fi

Alejandro with Cajun Reader

PSA - I did a lot of research so I tried 😅

• You get stationed out to the main base in Los Vaqueros, tasked to help the people there and work alongside Colonel Alejandro Vargas.

• Arriving on a helicopter you smile as you meet Alejandro smiling at you. "Welcome to Las Almas my friend- Heard great things about you"

• "Boujour! Comment ça s’plume? Alejandro no?" You say cheerfully clearly throwing off the man at the French being thrown his way- But a French he was incredibly unfamiliar with

• "Sargent (Y/L/N)? Correct?" You nod calmly, The Colonel smiking a bit- "We must leave soon then"

• "Don't be like that Cher" You say with a laugh and watch the man's face twist in mild confusion still.

• "Sha?" He repeated, you realizing quickly your mistake with a hearty laugh. "It's a term of endearment- Like Darlin'- Now, You said we had to leave No? Allons!"

• Alejandro nods and leads you off to your station, Still a bit confused over what the fuck you were saying-

• After a few weeks on base he starts to understand, realizing you are speaking a form of French mixed with English. The two of you talking quite often now as he shows you around Las Almas and the situation there.

• "They told me you are American-" Alejandro questioned as you two drove through the town.

• "I am-" You clarified with a smile. "From Louisiana" Alejandro nodded his head like he suddently got it.

• "Isn't uh it Creole? Es.. That's the American word right?" Alejandro questions, making you shake your head. "Two differen' peoples Sha-" You say as you try to explain the difference.

• This poor man is so confused- Feels like he's in school again and was just given a very hard exam that he didn't study for.

• "Creole is more City and Cajun is country" You simplified, which seemed to ease the confusion for the time being.

• The two of you become fast friends- You of course a chatter box and always wanting to learn and Alejandro always wanting to teach and see new things.

• Alejandro begins to teach you more Spanish while you teach him French-

• He likes to tease about how you talk with your hands and your passion behind your speaking. Finds it funny

• You two do have arguments at times, like an old couple do at stupid things. However rank is never pulled or acknowledged since it's always fun/personal banter

• However what truly soothed over any issues was the food- The two of you becoming quick food buddies as you'd share your guys food with each other.

• Alejandro walked straight to you on base early morning after a briefing, staring hard at you as he held a wrapped item in hand-

"...This is a La Guacamaya torta- It is one of my favorites... I added extra chicharrón" He flexes as he shows off the item. You nodding in agreement that it looked pretty damn good.

• "Not bad Not bad-" You smile, Before reaching for your own item with a grin. Pulling out a well worn Tupperware bowl-

• "Now, Had to improvise is bit- since Not many of my ingredients in this neck of the woods so I did so?' Pastalaya and found ya a le Boudin to have later"

• You say proudly showing off your lunch. Alejandro nodding also impressed- Before the two of you switch lunches and sit together to eat happily.

• It didn't take a genius for others to figure out you were buddy buddy with the Colonel- While some didn't like it, most warmed up to you and stared in your joy and willingness to expand-

• While you let anyone else know clearly they could go fuck themselves-

• However Alejandro was always your ride or die.

• The two of you shit talk for hours while eating... Half the time Not even understanding each other as you share new insults and curse words.

• He was your best friend, and you his-

#x reader #creole #cajan #cod alejandro #call of duty thoughts #call of duty mw3 #call of duty #call of duty alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x female reader #cod x male reader #cod x reader

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dootznbootz · 6 months

Text

Odysseus was afraid the entire year on Aeaea in the Odyssey.

Content warnings: Rape, Sexual Coercion, Sexual assault, Sex Work, power dynamics, this will also be long as fuck as I talk too much. This is NOT a "Circe the Goddess Hate Post". I call her out but that's it. I tried to keep this neutral but still making a point (Let me know if I gotta put more)

Lots of lovely folks on here have written great essays on what Calypso did to Odysseus as it's soooo blatantly obvious there. It literally states how he cried every day and how he flinched from Calypso, very straightforward on how he was explicitly raped.

But I've noticed that a lot of people are always iffy about Circe's situation (understandably so, it's not so in your face.) She's usually always mentioned in the "Odysseus never cheated! He was raped!" posts but then the evidence is only ever given against Calypso, and then mentioning how you can't say no or disobey the orders of an immortal and how it was in exchange for freeing his men.

WHICH IS ALL CORRECT!!! But!!!

There ARE immortal/mortal couples who genuinely love each other. Dionysus and Ariadne, and Eros and Psyche are examples. Apollo and Hyacinthus. Psyche indeed becomes immortal eventually and in some versions, both Hyacinthus and Ariadne do too. But even while mortal themselves, their immortal lovers still remained respectful and loving towards them and definitely doted on them. There are definitely power dynamics at play here but there's some nuance.

Odysseus and Circe's relationship, however, is very different. We all know he slept with her at the very least once. And that was in exchange for his men being returned to humans. That was the only time it was explicitly stated. With Calypso, it tells you every night he was enchanted and slept beside her. It was the narrator speaking but Odysseus is the narrator now and it's his story. If you think he lied, this probably won't change your mind anyway.

But even if it was a one-time thing, (which isn't the only interpretation and I will have points that talk about others) then why did he stay a year? What was he doing?

I'm doing a deep dive into the year he spent on Aeaea based on evidence in Book 10 and then the beginning of Book 12. Step by step, and honestly I'm writing this for Tumblr, not as a thesis so I will be a bit more casual but still using sources. To me, it's very obvious that he was uncomfortable throughout the text simply based on the language that is used. But it's very subtle and not an outright statement of "He's been crying every day."

BTW, just so we're clear, this is not a "Circe is the root of all evil, etc." type of post.

This isn't meant to villainize her. She's an immortal being and in mythology that changes things. Everybody is morally gray. I genuinely think if we were to ask her feelings on it, she'd probably be like "Oh, yeah! Turned his men into pigs! Strange little man he was." I don't think she gave a flying fuck.

I just simply get pissed tf off when people think Odysseus was fine. It honestly disturbs me how often I'll go on other websites YouTube and see everyone call him a whore and a womanizer. It's sexism at its finest because 1.) "MaN AlwAyS wAnTs sEx" and 2.) women can't rape/coerce. THIS IS SIMPLY TO LOOK INTO HIS FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

This is also only for Homer's Odyssey, using different translations. If you want to discuss this, (I'd be happy to! Just be nice!) DON'T BRING UP ANY OTHER WORKS.

With all that out of the way, come yell with me 🤗

I've read multiple translations, as I know there's going to be bias depending on who's translating. And having done so, each one has basically the same situations described the same so that's nice for consistency. Also, there are some parts in the story that are vague and that we'll never have answers to.

Odysseus first simply sees the smoke from her chimney and then sends his men in, after drawing lots Eurylochus leads half of the men to check out the house. I mentioned here vaguely how the 2 immortals he sleeps with are both introduced while singing and weaving, which could be seen as an enchantment (which to me is most likely. They both possess magic and are goddesses). So I'm just gonna move past that. Just take a peek and come back or just know that enchantment was likely.

Next, I'll see people often joke on Tumblr about how

"Odysseus says that Polites is his best friend yet only mentions him once!"

I think Odysseus mentions his best friend, the one to jubilantly go in first, to show WHY he would go through with this. How much these comrades mean to him. That's his best friend, and there are approximately 20 others who are now pigs as well. Could you knowingly leave one of your best friends to live a life like that knowing you could've done something?

[...]Circe—and deep inside they heard her singing, lifting her spellbinding voice as she glided back and forth at her great immortal loom, her enchanting web a shimmering glory only goddesses can weave. Polites, captain of armies, took command, the closest, most devoted man I had: ‘Friends, there’s someone inside, plying a great loom, and how she sings—enthralling! The whole house is echoing to her song. Goddess or woman—let’s call out to her now!’ So he urged and the men called out and hailed her. She opened her gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting them all in, and in they went, all innocence.

(Fagles, Book 10)

In the Odyssey, it's never mentioned why she turns people into animals. I think they were turned into pigs because, throughout the Iliad and Odyssey, Odysseus is often associated with boars. His men are associated with him, therefore: 🐖 Piggy. From what we know, the lads were just eating her food. With how much Xenia and hospitality are a large part of the story, they probably thought they were safe. They were GUESTS. This is especially welcome after the Cyclops and the Laestrygonians. And it literally says "All innocence". They were simply naive.

Then Eurylochus runs back, so terrified that he couldn't speak at first. He then begs Odysseus to just leave the men behind. Odysseus has shown that he does TRY to save his men when it is truly not reckless to do so.

But I shot back, ‘Eurylochus, stay right here, eating, drinking, safe by the black ship. I must be off. Necessity drives me on.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Then the famous warning from Hermes. I've seen folks bring this up when talking about this. YES, he is literally commanded by Hermes to not refuse her if he wants his men back in basically every translation. It sounds like Circe was warned as well. When? We don't know, but it sounds like Hermes didn't pick "sides" here.

Strange that he was still like, "Sleep with each other" to both, because he could've been like, "Circe, there's this guy named Odysseus. When he comes to this island, change his men back." But who knows, maybe it was Circe's idea from the beginning and Hermes went along with it. Just food for thought.

Now here’s your plan of action, step by step. The moment Circe strikes with her long thin wand, you draw your sharp sword sheathed at your hip and rush her fast as if to run her through! She’ll cower in fear and coax you to her bed— but don’t refuse the goddess’ bed, not then, not if she’s to release your friends and treat you well yourself. But have her swear the binding oath of the blessed gods she’ll never plot some new intrigue to harm you, once you lie there naked— never unman you, strip away your courage!’

(Fagles, Book 10)

But that doesn't explain why he was there for a year afterward! Nor if he himself was okay with it, which is what I'm trying to delve into as he wasn't.

Also the knife thing? She's still immortal. It was meant to startle her. Her dad is Helios. Odysseus would've been toast, literally.

Also note this exchange wasn't a "Yippee! Hermes says I'm going to get laid!".

...just approaching the halls of Circe, my heart a heaving storm at every step, paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids— I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice, she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Another translation by Ian Johnston, (they all say the same thing essentially but trying to make a point.)

I continued on to Circe’s home. As I moved on, my heart was turning over many gloomy thoughts. After I had walked up to the gateway of fair-haired Circe’s house, I just stood there and gave a shout. The goddess heard my voice. She came out at once, opened her bright doors, and invited me inside. I entered, heart full of misgivings.

HE👏WAS👏SCARED! The tone is solemn and suspenseful. He was just told that without Hermes' help with the root, he wouldn't be able to survive and bring back his men. Circe was dangerous.

He made her swear not to harm him.

Straightaway she began to swear the oath that I required—never, she’d never do me harm—and when she��d finished, then, at last, I mounted Circe’s gorgeous bed …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Please note that she NEVER promised that to his men. His comrades did NOT have moli in their systems. He had no way of truly ensuring their safety in any way from Circe.

He then refuses to eat or speak, literally "lost in grim forebodings". If he "just got laid", then why isn't he happy? Not many men can say that a goddess CHOSE to have sex with them. He did it to get his men turned back. It was an exchange. I don't think Circe is "Evil" so maybe it slipped her mind. Or yes, she could've thought, "Hey, I got what I wanted. He's handsome enough. Homer never shuts up about how hot this guy is He hasn't brought up the pigs yet. I'll just let this play out. Maybe HE forgot. I don't have to do anything." We don't know. But Odysseus probably felt like he got deceived.

"Hey, I did my part of the deal. I slept with you. Now do yours."

She pressed me to eat. I had no taste for food. I just sat there, mind wandering, far away … lost in grim forebodings. As soon as Circe saw me, huddled, not touching my food, immersed in sorrow, she sidled near with a coaxing, winged word: ‘Odysseus, why just sit there, struck dumb, eating your heart out, not touching food or drink? Suspect me of still more treachery? Nothing to fear. Haven’t I just sworn my solemn, binding oath?’

So she asked, but I protested, ‘Circe— how could any man in his right mind endure the taste of food and drink before he’d freed his comrades-in-arms and looked them in the eyes? If you, you really want me to eat and drink, set them free, all my beloved comrades— let me feast my eyes.’ So I demanded.

(Fagles, Book 10)

He doesn't trust her despite what she had told him that he should when they sleep together. He has figured out that while she will not hurt him, his men were not a part of that oath, the men he was trying to protect in the first place.

She is then moved by how they rejoice when they see one another again. While turning people into animals for funsies isn't cool and coercion is fucked up, I think she comes to see this group as not quite friends but I think she did find them entertaining in a way.

This is very strange but I've seen some folks say that since Odysseus was pissed at Eurylochus for still not believing him about Circe is proof that "Oh he was trying to defend her!". Which??? Uh, Eurylochus was literally questioning his leadership as a whole. Calling him reckless and shit. He is captain and he's the King, he can't let that shit slide. The text literally says "Mutinous". Also if I had to sleep with someone I did not want to especially if it was to save my friends and I got called names afterward I'd get fucking pissed too.

Only Eurylochus tried to hold my shipmates back, his mutinous outburst aimed at one and all: ‘Poor fools, where are we running now? Why are we tempting fate?— why stumble blindly down to Circe’s halls? She’ll turn us all into pigs or wolves or lions made to guard that palace of hers—by force, I tell you— just as the Cyclops trapped our comrades in his lair with hotheaded Odysseus right beside them all— thanks to this man’s rashness they died too!

They stay a year. Again it's never stated that Odysseus slept with her that whole time. You could interpret that. (Honestly, I feel Circe would get bored with him? She's a goddess, she's got more important matters than mortal men. And she definitely doesn't love him.)

His men DO have to bring it up that "Odysseus has forgotten his native land." Maybe they thought they could sneak out without her knowing??? I am fucking REACHING but hold on as Telemachus did because he knew Nestor would well, be Nestor and try to coax him with "Have a meal with us! Let me tell you about how badass I used to be in my youth." But to sneak away from a goddess? Without her permission? That won't end too well. Aeolus in the beginning kicked out Odysseus when he tried to ask for another bag of wind. If she didn't want him around, she could literally boot him out. While she didn't force him to stay like Calypso did, she didn't "release" him either.

We don't know if they've been asking for a long time. Odysseus does say to Circe that they have been begging him nonstop, but he could also be saying that to try and convince her. He's good at persuasion. I think while he knew he could rely on her for food, shelter, and good advice, he still didn't feel...SAFE with her. I think he was possibly avoiding her personally.

I think HOW he asks her to leave is important to know as well.

...but I went up to that luxurious bed of Circe’s, hugged her by the knees and the goddess heard my winging supplication: ‘Circe, now make good a promise you gave me once— it’s time to help me home. My heart longs to be home, my comrades’ hearts as well. They wear me down, pleading with me whenever you’re away.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Throughout all of Homer's works, the characters grasp another's knees when they are desperate and are literally at the other person's mercy. Priam did when begging Achilles for Hector's body back. The man who literally killed his son and was defiling his body by dragging it around. Leodes grabs Odysseus' knees to beg for his life before Ody kills him. If he saw her as a friend, and not a captor, WHY DID HE FEEL THE NEED TO BEG IN ORDER TO LEAVE?! No one, who is in a healthy relationship, has to BEG for permission to leave. Or to "Break up", if you interpret them as still sleeping together.

And even Circe acknowledges that he is there against his will!

‘Royal son of Laertes, Odysseus, old campaigner, stay on no more in my house against your will.

(Fagles, Book 10)

[...]Odysseus, man of many resources, scion of Zeus, son of Laertes, don’t stay here a moment longer against your will

(A.S. Kline, Book 10)

This is probably another reach that you can ignore but the whole "they wear me down", could be trying to appease her. "Look, you're REALLY cool, it's actually my crew that wants to leave hahahah please don't kill them"

I mentioned before how Telemachus snuck away from Nestor but that was simply out of necessity because he needed to go home now. Not rest for the night. NOW. Nestor is just everyone's grandpa. Menelaus kind of talked more but Telemachus is very straight up in "Please I have to go now" and Menelaus immediately got things ready for him. He never has to beg and clasp his knees. Telemachus was never afraid. Menelaus is a fun uncle and Helen is your cool auntie.

Back to Circe! She tells him instructions for the underworld, they were in her bedroom. But that might've been the only way to speak with her. As even Penelope is usually away from the suitors when they are in her halls, Circe may have done the same. The text never states she played hostess physically. If she was hosting in the halls during the day, why did Odysseus wait until night to talk to her? He could've just asked her while she was on her throne in front of everyone. (He did so with the Phaeacians)

Or maybe he went alone because she only swore an oath to not harm him and so he didn't want his men near if she decided she didn't want to let them go. I could be missing something here so feel free to say something. Idk if this was a pride thing on how "I don't want others to see me beg".

She has info he needs in order to go home as well. She tells him to go to the Underworld.

She gave him new fine clothes and put on pretty clothes herself but that doesn't mean they had sex. Nausicaa gave him nice clothes as well but he never slept with her.

Then he leaves. Immediately. Not even doing a headcount as he didn't realize one of his men had died. (That was negligence on his part but he wanted out) He booked it, to the UNDERWORLD BY THE WAY. Circe even had to sneak the animals he needed for the sacrifice. Odysseus even basically said "She's a goddess. She can do things mortals can't" at the end of the book. And it almost feels...Numb? Solemn? Neutral? Gives a "It is what it is" vibe.

But Circe got to the dark hull before us, tethered a ram and black ewe close by— slipping past unseen. Who can glimpse a god who wants to be invisible gliding here and there?

(Fagles, Book 10)

She’d slipped past us with ease, for who can see a god move back and forth, if she has no desire to be observed?

(Johnston, Book 10)

She's a goddess. She has magic. She can do whatever the fuck she wants.

NOW ON TO BOOK 12!!! That was long! GET A SNACK AND WATER! LUCKILY THIS'LL BE SHORTER!

In Book 11, Odysseus swears, upon all his loved ones in Ithaca, to Elpenor that he'd give him a proper burial as he's been "unwept, unburied". So in Book 12, he sails back to Aeaea to fulfill his promise.

But you know what's funny to me?

He didn't tell Circe he was there.

He didn't even go to greet Circe himself. He sent his men to go get Elpenor's body.

The biggest clue that he didn't love/trust her is that if she was his "Affair partner" then why not go see her for "one last night together"?

SHE came out herself and pulled him aside to know what happened and then gave more advice.

I dispatched some men to Circe’s halls to bring the dead Elpenor’s body. [...]

Nor did our coming back from Death escape Circe— she hurried toward us, decked in rich regalia, handmaids following close with trays of bread and meats galore and glinting ruddy wine. [...]

But Circe, taking me by the hand, drew me away from all my shipmates there and sat me down and lying beside me probed me for details

(Fagles, Book 12)

In every translation, it talks about how he sits, and she lounges/lies down. That's not sex 🙃 In some translations, it even says he tried to be with his shipmates but she pulled him away!

So we lay down and slept beside our ship’s stern cables. But Circe took me by the hand and led me away, some distance from the crew. She made me sit, while she stretched out beside me on the ground.

(Johnston, Book 12)

Then, she gives advice about the sirens, Charybdis, Scylla, and her father's Cattle. He tries to ask if he could save all his men. She scolds him for even thinking he could try. He again books it out of there.

I think we all know it wasn't "love". But I think a lot of people think Odysseus was willing and happy with whatever this was. "Friends with Benefits", if you will. I guess you could see it that way but I will say that makes me feel itchy with the whole power dynamic and fear. I don't think folks who have that arrangement have to beg on their knees to ask if they can leave though.

I mean the entirety of Book 10 gives me the vibes of "Laughing uncomfortably because you don't want to upset the other person". To just grin and bear it.

A lot of this was just putting the text here and picking it apart step by step. What you do with this is up to you. It's rambling while banging pots and pans together.

Maybe you see him as drugged the entire year and still sleeping together, as the moli "wore off". Even then, just because her magic can't affect him, there are plenty of natural concoctions that can be created that can affect mortals.

Maybe you see the entire year as sex work in exchange for shelter and food.

Maybe he was just alongside his men the whole time under her roof and was avoiding her after the exchange. After he got asked by his men to finally leave, he would start to walk up to that room only to freeze and turn around, thinking "One more day won't hurt. Should wait until I know she's in a sympathetic mood".

I beg of you, however, PLEASE understand that there was fear and coercion throughout his entirety on Aeaea. He wasn't staying to get laid. While there is so much going on and too many things that are left vague to really know exactly what happened, it is consistent that he was scared/numb. Lots of people go through with things they don't really want to do just to appease others. There are plenty of situations of sexual trauma where one person goes through something and the other has no idea the other person isn't okay. ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE CAN HARM THE PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT AT ANY MOMENT!

Sexual trauma is a very complicated thing and while he was scared, he definitely wasn't as traumatized by her as he was by Calypso. Calypso was a torturous hell while Circe was a year of walking on eggshells. Not comparable but I still think it should be acknowledged. It's wild because I read the Odyssey and kept thinking "Y'all are calling the sex slave a cheater? The guy who slept with a goddess to get his men back? The ultimate simp apparently doesn't love his wife??"

Things I'm adding that shouldn't affect the argument as it is not in the Odyssey but I want to mention as it's a "fun fact": Odysseus' dad was an Argonaut. Laertes probably met Circe as well, (or knew of her) with the whole purifying thing and maybe Odysseus heard his dad tell stories of her. Later myths also have Circe with the habit of turning her crushes (or their lovers) into something with Scylla and Picus.

In conclusion, Yeah, he was afraid of her. At least to an extent. And don't pull the whole "Ancient men didn't get raped". Male victims exist and deserve compassion for what was done to them and women are capable of sexual abuse. If you think otherwise, you are not a true feminist and Fuck you. I said in the beginning this'll be casual and I don't wanna write a fancy ending. You can still think Circe is neat but you have to know that this was fucked up.

If you think a lot of this is bullshit or wanna give more context or wish to yell with me but still know he wasn't alright on Aeaea, cool. If you want to point out mistakes or something I should keep in mind with interpretations then feel free to say so but give text evidence. If you try and bring up the Telegony and/or Madeline Miller's Circe, fuck clean off. This is Homer. If you call Odysseus a whore and not the malewife he canonically is I'll start biting. 😤

#feel free to add thoughts! just be nice #Was a bit afraid to post this but now I don't care lol #I'm a tired bitch #Youtube and idiots on tumblr got me acting up.#This may be too thorough but idc.#idk why the colors get weird #I don't know how other people can see all these things lined up together and not see how he was not okay.#like I said you can still like circe the goddess but know this was wrong!#might make private sometime but fuck it #anti-madeline miller #Circe the goddess is “fine”. Circe the book is not #It sounds like it does her dirty anyways. Odyssey Circe would take book Circe out back and beat the absolute shit outta her.#As another Madeline I'm ashamed.#if you bring up the tele-GONE-y then BEGONE yourself #odysseus #the odyssey #odyssey #circe #tagamemnon #tw rape #tw sa #tw sex assault #crying shaking throwing up #greek mythology #circe rant #odyssey rant #anti madeline miller #anti circe #the BOOK #Mad rambles

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suzukiblu · 6 months

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Day eleven of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

So Tim may’ve accidentally taken Superboy on a very public coffee date in Metropolis that hopefully no one sold paparazzi photos of and then slightly less accidentally asked him out on a shopping date in Gotham by doubling down on the “fashion show” joke, which he intends to spend gently wearing Kon down into having vast amounts of money spent on him by a grateful “stranger”. Kon didn't ever actually ask him how a Gothamite high schooler tracked down a Metropolis superhero to begin with, which is another thing to make sure to mention in the superhero stranger danger refresher course but is currently doing Tim a lot of favors.

The situation isn't anything serious, anyway; just a little bit of friendly flirting. Kon's always flirting with someone new, after all, and Tim's fine with the idea of being an experiment for a date or two while he wheedles his way into rearranging Kon's entire life and reducing Cadmus to a smoldering pit and stocking up on anti-Superman weaponry. Actually he's probably a little too fine with that idea, but never mind that.

Tim’s plotting how to most effectively convince Kon to let him buy him things without overwhelming him and scaring him off, which is a bit complicated since Kon’s socialization has been pretty weird, but that just makes it a better thought exercise anyway. Like a handicap in chess, kind of.

As are the constant interruptions, because he’s currently doing said plotting in the Justice Cave, which means everyone’s been running in and out all afternoon and pestering him to come do increasingly ludicrous things with the rest of them. Most recently, Bart and Suzie had sixteen different Kool-Aid packets and a small armory’s worth of super-soakers and water guns. Tim had decided to take the better part of valor and not ask.

Kon comes in after a few minutes dripping a rainbow and smelling like pink lemonade, so Tim is pretty sure he chose correctly on that one.

“So Kool-Aid comes in way more flavors than I actually realized,” Kon says conversationally, plucking at his soaked-through S-shield. Tim just raises an eyebrow at him, even if the mask mutes the expression a little. He heroically does not notice how said S-shield is currently clinging to Kon’s very nice pecs like wet cellophane. Or anywhere else his costume is clinging, while he’s at it.

That costume is very, very thoroughly soaked. Bart and Suzie must’ve caught him by surprise, otherwise he’d have probably kept himself from getting quite that soaked with his TTK. At least, Tim assumes he could’ve done that, considering.

“I realize Impulse is incredibly determined when he gets an idea in his head, but how did you get that wet?” Tim says. “I thought they just had regular water guns.”

“Bart turned up a pack of balloons somewhere,” Kon explains dryly–no pun intended.

Well, that explains it, Tim supposes.

“So is the whole base flooded, or . . . ?” he trails off. Kon snorts, raking his wet curls back off his forehead. Tim wants to lick the splattered black cherry Kool-Aid off the perfect arch of his cheekbone and stick his hands in his jacket pockets. He also wants to preserve his personal dignity and professionalism and appropriate level of distance as the leader, though.

“I’d start collecting two of every Super-Cycle if I were you,” Kon advises. Tim doesn’t laugh, because that wouldn’t be very professional of him, but he lets the corner of his mouth quirk up a little.

“How many Super-Cycles do you think there are?” he says.

“Two, if it’s up to Bart and the great Kool-Aid flood,” Kon says, then glances back over his shoulder for a moment like he’s checking for something. Tim assumes he’s keeping an eye out for Bart and Suzie, though he should really know Bart’s going to outpace him no matter what, so it's not like he's going to be able to dodge him or–“Hey. Can I ask you a favor, man?”

“A favor?” Tim blinks, a little nonplussed. “What kind of favor?”

“A Bat kind of favor,” Kon says, stepping a little farther into the room. “Uh. If it’s not too weird.”

“What do you need?” Tim asks, his attention sharpening. A Bat kind of favor implies Kon needs help with a supervillain or at least a criminal, though if he does need backup he’s not sure why he’s asking just him and not the whole team, that seems–

“I need you to look somebody up for me and make sure he’s not, I don’t know, a creep or a supervillain or a supervillain creep,” Kon says, folding his arms and looking a little awkward about it. “Like I don’t care if he’s maybe related to some supervillain creeps or something, that’s whatever, I just care if he’s one. And he’s from Gotham, he said, so I figured it wouldn’t be too much out of your way anyway.”

Tim blinks. Tilts his head. Is Kon . . .

“His name’s Tim Drake,” Kon says. “Or that’s what he told me his name was, anyway. Again, he might be a supervillain or something, so who knows.”

Tim . . . blinks.

“I can do that,” he says, and–because he can’t help himself and also could use the intel anyway–“Why do you think he might be a supervillain?”

Kon's face turns pink. Just barely, but still noticeably.

“I just do,” he says, tightening his arms. “Just, uh–I don’t know.”

Tim may’ve possibly made too many supervillain jokes at the café, he’s realizing. Or maybe he’d just looked too desperately thirsty when Kon had joked about him recruiting him for his evil plans. His plans aren’t even evil, okay, they’re just rational. And his actual recruitment strategy doesn’t have anything to do with anybody wearing a crop top, either! The crop tops were Kon’s idea!

Still, Kon’s asking him to look up Tim Drake for him, and at least he actually is bothering to look up Tim Drake, so that could be worse. One less point to go over in the superhero stranger danger refresher course. Tim isn’t sure why Kon's only concerned now, but at least he's being careful.

“Okay,” Tim says, figuring it's not a big deal either way. If Kon's asking him to check himself out, then all he has to do is provide him with just enough information to make him feel comfortable accepting money from him without worrying about who he might be accepting money from. And rent. And clothes and groceries and bills and–

Well, literally everything, ideally. Just, like–literally every single thing he can get Kon to accept, Tim's intending to give him. An apartment or a condo or a freaking house, if that's what Kon wants. Maybe a cul-de-sac, even. Tim's not above buying him a cul-de-sac. It'd take a little extra bank fraud, probably, but that's just more supervillain practice anyway.

Kon deserves a stupid cul-de-sac, at this point. Kon deserves a whole neighborhood at this point.

Tim could arrange that, probably. Especially once he's officially a supervillain, but also just like in general. Again, it'd just take a little bit of bank fraud at the most.

“Thanks,” Kon says, shifting his weight a little anxiously, for some reason.

“It's no problem,” Tim replies with a shrug. “I mean, it's probably just paranoia, given our propensity to run into supervillains. I wouldn't worry about it “

“Whatever,” Kon says with a shrug, looking–bothered, a little. Tim represses a frown, watching him consideringly.

“You don't think you're being paranoid,” he translates. “Why?”

“Uh, because . . . people don’t try to just hang out with me, usually,” Kon replies with an uncomfortable shrug, jamming his hands deep into his jacket pockets. “Not like this guy is, I mean. Usually they . . . want something, you know? Like to meet Superman or get in the tabloids or, uh, steal my DNA and make an asshole with a superiority complex out of it. But I don’t know what this guy wants at all. He just paid for my lunch and asked to hang out again. And like, all I did was save his ass from some dumbass robber, so it wasn't like it was a big deal or anything.”

“Oh,” Tim says. That’s . . . an incredibly depressing answer, okay. Like . . . incredibly depressing. Wow. “Okay. I'll look into him and get back to you.”

“Thanks,” Kon says again, looking restless, then puts on a slightly forced grin. “It's no big, just keeping an eye out for stupid spy shit or weird undercover types, you know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, watching him for a long moment. The answer is still incredibly depressing. Nothing that Kon has said has made it any less depressing. Actually, it's just kind of making it worse.

A lot worse.

“Thanks,” Kon says again, odd and abrupt, and then suddenly zips out of the room. He left Kool-Aid stains on the floor and they're going to get sticky, but Tim is a little bit too distracted to be annoyed by that fact.

Kon's never asked him to look somebody up for him before. They haven't been teammates that long, so that's not a surprise, but it does make Tim wonder who he asks normally. Actually, does he ask anyone normally, or did Tim just fuck up somewhere here and make Kon suspicious enough to ask a favor from a Bat?

Fuck, he hopes not. That'll make it way harder to convince Kon to let him buy him a cul-de-sac.

Tim goes back to his previous Kon-related plotting and also takes half an hour to type up a “report” on himself for him. Just the basics, nothing too damning or too invasive or too interesting. Definitely nothing to connect him to Bruce, for obvious reasons. Better safe than sorry and all, since he's decided to take the risk of involving his civilian identity with Kon.

Honestly, he probably should've used this as a template for Caroline Hill. Put her in a situation and given Kon the opportunity to save her. He probably would've responded better to an older girl than a guy his own age anyway, considering.

Tim's still surprised Kon responded to Tim Drake at all, considering. But maybe he really does just flirt with every civilian, no matter who he's really attracted to or not. That seems like something Kon would do.

Really, for all Tim knows, Kon only flirted with Tim Drake to begin with because he didn't know how else to talk to him.

Actually, considering how few civilian guys he's seen him talk to, that's probably actually true, isn't it.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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biird-rot · 1 month

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Leon Kennedy is Autistic: An Analysis by an Autistic Person

DISCLAIMER: This post and all the points I make are highly based on my OWN experiences. I often find parallels between my experiences as a disabled individual and characters I love to help me better cope with and process my feelings. Hate will not be tolerated!!!

Before I get started, I’d like to say that this is not even me scratching the SURFACE of the things I could analyze about Leon and apply to various autistic experiences, this is mostly just the things that resonate with me the most.

Parallel Play/Preferring to Work Alone

It could be attributed to trauma, and the fact he works in a government agency, but Leon has always been the flying solo type. Missions in which it would be better if multiple people worked on it (RE4) HOWEVER! Whenever he does work with others, he often goes off on his own and leaves whoever he's with to deal with what's there (DI, Leon going off immediately after being vaccinated by Rebecca)

Difficulty Communicating/Identifying Emotions

This also plays into the difficulty making friends and maintaining friendships aspect of being autistic. There isn't any direct/obvious representations of this occurring in the franchise, but it can be inferred based upon his interaction with Chris and Rebecca in RE: Vendetta when the two try to recruit Leon on their mission because of the intel he has on the type of BOWs they're dealing with. Speaking of RE: Vendetta, it can also be noted that Leon copes with his inability to cope with/regulate his emotions by drinking, and this is a habit he always had. In fact, he's essentially hung over in RE2, having drunk his feelings away after being broken up with the night before the Raccoon City incident, and he is literally drinking on the job in Damnation. Essentially, he's canonically an alcoholic. As an autistic person, sometimes I would turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with my emotional dysregulation, especially when I was unaware that I was autistic.

Leon isn't a very emotional person in general, again, It could be chalked up to trauma, but lack of emotional expression is also a common experience/trait amongst autistics.

“Inappropriate” Responses to Situations

GODDDD this one is SO prominent in RE4R (hell, even the OG), Infinite Darkness actually everything he's in, I can name at LEAST 2 examples of this. To keep this short, I'll just name ones that I relate painfully hard to, and ones that I find hilarious.

To start, WHENEVR HE JUST SAYS "ok 🧍" in response to an emotional moment. RE2R, when Claire introduces him to Sherry, in RE4R, when Ashley hugs him and expresses her relief that he's okay, and in Infinite Darkness whenever he checks up on Patrick after the White House Outbreak. It never fails to make me lose it because he's just like me fr.

Thists a sillier one, but I want to mention it because it's so mecore.

Thank you to @highball66 for doing the lord's work of translating the Death Island manga yall seriously he’s a legend🙏

When Leon sends selfies of him on missions. That's it. He just sends it to Hunnigan and I think it's great.

Sensory Issues

Okay, I KNOW LEON IS A GOVERNMENT AGENT AND NEEDS SOME LEVEL OF GEAR ON MISSIONS BUT!!!!! Half the time he isn't even wearing a full set, not even a bullet proof vest. HOWEVER, I did notice that one thing he CONSISTENTLY wears (with the exception of a few instances) is GLOVES!!! This is more of a personal headcannon, but I like to think he's sensitive to texture, especially when handling guns and such, so he wears gloves, so it doesn't feel as terrible. To further back up his sensitivity to texture, in Death Island, after the Dylan BOW explodes and splashes water everywhere, Chris doesn't seem to care about being covered in water while Leon is flicking the water off him.

Literal Thinking - Coming off as Rude/Inappropriate Unintentionally

GODDDDD this is another big one, but I’ll only cover the ones that I relate to a lot to save time. Starting with his initial encounter with Jill in Death Island, they’re being chased by lickers and…well..this interaction

Exhibit B: This scene. He’s just so nonchalant about it and I do the exact same thing without like…intentionally being a “smartass” or whatever, I’m just being honest 🧍. Jill’s “Oh😒” at the end of the scene is really what made it hit home, because that’s how people typically react when i have a similar interaction with them

ANOTHER THING!!! All of the instances in which Leon casually asks “so you wanna get dinner?” Or something along those lines. It’s often interpreted as a poor attempt at flirting, but personally, I think he genuinely just wants food, and he doesn’t understand why ppl are like 🤨 when he asks. He just wants a nice dinner with a nice lady :(

Hyper-empathy

Small disclaimer here, autism is a SPECTRUM. And our empathy levels fluctuate every day. In Leon’s case, I see him being hyper-empathetic, much like myself. And being able to empathize so easily with people is incredibly draining. Additionally, a huge thing that is common among autistics is how we tend to respond to people who are sharing their struggles with us sharing our OWN experiences that are similar to theirs, and it often comes off as egocentric and selfish to “make it about us”, but in reality, that’s our way of saying that we understand what you’re going through, and it helps us process how you may be feeling as well. There are many scenes I could pull from, but I want to talk about one specifically in Infinite Darkness since it resonates so much with me:

The scene within ID in which Jason is having a nightmare, and Leon wakes him up, immediately asking him if he wants to talk about it. Jason recalls the nightmare and his trauma about Penamstan to Leon, and says that he has no idea what it was like, and Leon responds talking about his experience in Raccoon City, and how that affected him similarly

Special Interests & Using Media to Communicate Feelings

There are many aspects of this I could talk about, but I’ve already written 10 pages worth already in this post, so I’ll speed through it.

Personally, I think Leon has a special interest in film! He makes several references throughout the franchise, many of which are overlooked. Personally, my favorite reference he makes is in RE: Vendetta to Pulp Fiction (I think) when Chris and Rebecca confront him during his “vacation”

Final Notes/Conclusion

I had to cut a LOT out from my original mini-essay I wrote about this to fit it better on here, and make it not as boring to read lmao, but I hope you enjoyed my silly little analysis! I love being able to relate my experiences to others, fictional or otherwise, as it helps me feel less alone, and be able to process and cope with what makes my disability a…well, a disability. I hope fellow autistics find some solace in this as well, and please let me know your additional thoughts about this topic if you’re a fellow autistic Leon Kennedy headcannoner!!!

#biird rot #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy re2 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4r #re4 remake #re4remake #resident evil vendetta #resident evil death island #character analysis #actually autistic

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wonbineatsme · 6 days

Text

: •̩̩͙ ໋ IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE •̩̩͙ ໋: - RI7ZE

RIIZE x fem!reader

Crack

SYNOPSIS: Boys’ reaction when you say you’re in love with someone - And that someone in question is them, but you decide to hide this part.

WARNINGS: This is just a hc, which means it doesn't match reality. I created the scenarios in my head :))

!! English is not my first language

WC! 0.8K

ᄀᄉᄀ SHOTARO: For me, Shotaro is very responsible and understandable. Even though it hurts to know that you are in love with someone else, I think Taro would react to this news in the most welcoming way possible, because above all you are his best friend. Maybe later he thinks he failed in some way, like he wasn't interesting enough for you, but he would try to push away those negative thoughts.

You both once promised that you would always be happy for each other's achievements. Shotaro will keep that promise, no matter who that person is, he will help you and make them feel welcome.

ᄀᄉᄀ EUNSEOK: There was no reaction, which made you a little upset, to say the least - Even though he is the person you like, in question.

You see, Eunseok isn't good at expressing his emotions. In fact, he never wanted to like you, he still refuses to believe that after so many years of friendship, his heart was stupid enough to fall in love. Not that the problem is you, you're perfect, but Eunseok is the rational type and to him all this shit doesn't make any sense.

He never thought that hearing from you that you are interested in someone else could cause so many feelings at once in him, so in the middle of all this confusion, Eunseok remained expressionless. Of course, your happiness is his happiness, but honestly? I think he'd be a little angry - Not at you, but at the bastard.

ᄀᄉᄀ SUNGCHAN: He would be the personification of the Lady Gaga meme “Brazil, I'm devastated”.

I know it doesn't make much sense, but for me Sungchan is the most intense of them all - Which means he reacts to situations in his life in a kind of… Dramatic way. He would be in a mix of “Tell me now the name of the son of a bitch who is stealing you from me” and “My girl is loving them for the first time, they grow up so fast :'))”

Yeah... With Sungchan it's always 8 or 80. He would be happy for you, but he couldn't help but feel jealous. He would make it clear that if you left him for the unfortunate man, he would beat the drum for the guy to leave you.

ᄀᄉᄀ WONBIN: My poor, Binnie :(( As much as he tries to pretend to be mysterious, Wonbin is sensitive. From the moment you opened your mouth, he would feel an existential void as great as if his pet had passed away.

He would literally be in mourning for a relationship that never even existed, too shaken to remember to be happy for you. Would call Anton destroyed and cry in the youngest's lap like a baby, not believing that he lost you to someone.

Would be a real show of tears and ice cream, but after a week he would apologize to you - Embarrassed - and be honest about his feelings.

I feel like Wonbin is the only one who would tell you the truth.

ᄀᄉᄀ SEUNGHAN: He would activate gossip mode, would scan all your social networks to find the bastard who wants to steal his place.

What do you mean you're in love with someone else? How bold! Well, now it's war. Seunghan only accepts losing to a guy better than him – Which is impossible, because he is perfect. He would only rest when he found the boy, all while pretending to be super calm with the news so you wouldn't suspect anything.

He would call the other boys for a debate, but would receive a lecture from Shotaro and a reality check from the others.

I love Seunghan, his reaction would definitely be the best ever.

ᄀᄉᄀ SOHEE: Wouldn't understand, like “How did this happen and I didn't even notice?”

Sohee knows ALL your friends, if you were seeing someone new, he would know. Based on this, he would start to think that you like one of the boys and classify them in order of proximity, coming to the conclusion that you might only be into Wonbin - After all, after him, Wonbin is the most intimate.

Sohee would go into crazy paranoia, looking for signs in your behavior, anything that would confirm his theory.

Behind the scenes, you would be laughing at this investigation of your best friend, knowing that it is wrong to have fun at the expense of his suffering. You swear you’ll tell him next week.

ᄀᄉᄀ ANTON: I don't know how Anton would react. At the same time that he gives off a baby vibe, the baby is also not a baby.

I feel like it would be something similar to Sungchan. He would feel a mix of emotions, between being sad that you weren't his and being jealous that you weren’t his. The only thing Anton would say is:

"But… What about me?"

You confess that Brachio's reactions still take you by surprise. You two have been best friends forever, but at this point he manages to be a mystery. Chanyoung appears to be dumb, but he knows very well what he wants and sometimes he's not afraid to express it – Like now.

Do you like another guy? Fine! But first you'll have to explain to him how you can fall in love with someone else with him there entirely for you.

You went to play and became a toy.

#riize #sungchan x reader #wonbin x reader #shotaro x reader #seunghan x reader #sohee x reader #anton x reader #eunseok x reader #riize scenarios #riize x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

Note

You're analysis are always very insightful! Your considerations about Malleus' restricted options in terms of partners made me wonder if Kalim would end up in a similar situation as him. This is of course entirely speculation, since we don't know much about how his parents got together, but to me it makes sense that in the future he might have to deal with something like an arranged marriage. He isn't royalty, but the Asim family still has a great deal of commercial and political sway in the Scalding Sands, so it's difficult for me to believe that they would just let the heir marry whoever he chooses. And despite how carefree he may act, I don't think he would reject an arrangement made by his family. He seems pretty aware of all the obligations that come with being an heir to the Asim. Besides, rejecting a spouse that was chosen for him might put said person under a lot of public scrutiny, and I don't think he would want anyone to go through that

[Referencing this post!]

Oh, hmmm 🤔 I actually never really though about this kind of thing for Kalim so I guess now is as good of a time as any www.

I do think like there would be some selectiveness involved for Kalim too, given the financial power and political influence in the Scalding Sands that the Asims hold (and that's not even mentioning their connections via family, some of which are royalty, and business partners). There's also been several attempts on Kalim's life, so there would probably be an intense screening and background check process for anyone courting Kalim. Who knows if they're actually there to kidnap him or to take his life??? The Asims would have very legitimate concerns, so they have every right to be vigilant and suspicious of those who may try to take advantage of Kalim's kind-heartedness and gullibility.

Mm, I do feel like (overall) Kalim wouldn't be in as much of a tight spot as Malleus?? I get the sense that his parents are way more open-minded and truly care about his happiness (unlike the Briar Valley senators) so they wouldn't exactly force him to marry someone he doesn't actually love. Rather than a "you have no say in this matter" arranged marriage, they might instead present Kalim with a pool of potential candidates that have already been vetted and encourage him to try them out? Like, go on various blind dates and see if he "clicks" with any of them. There would be more trial and error, more exploration allowed (since there isn't as much of a demand for Kalim to have an heir, especially not right away; he has so many other siblings and family members who could help or assume roles in the business). I believe this is similar to how matchmaking is done in some Asian countries (although I'm not too familiar with the concept, I've only learned a little about it through some podcasts). From my understanding, they try to "match" applicants with someone of a similar social ranking as you (so in Kalim's case, he would probably be meeting people who are also mega wealthy) and based on what you (and oftentimes your family) are looking for. If it doesn't work out, then there's less of a chance for backlash since pretty much anyone can use these services and a perfect match isn't a guarantee, especially on the first attempt. Please feel free to correct me if I got any information here wrong!! ^^

#twisted wonderland #twst #Malleus Draconia #Kalim Al-Asim #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

The Endless Darkness and Mystery of the Ocean Is Becoming A Bit Tempting To Dive Into Now

Masterlist

Pairing: Ex!John B Routledge x female!reader, JJ Maybank x female!reader (all over 18)

TW:18+ smut, piv. unprotected sex. size kink(?), squirting, drug use, angst, violence, brief mention of blood,I think thats it

Summary: After ending things with one of your best friends, you see JJ in whole new light. the problem is you can't tell John B, but everything comes to light eventually. (Based on this request)

Word Count:4.4k

A/N: please excuse any typos, its 2 am and im delirious. also I couldn't choose between these gifs so have them both

Ever since the breakup things have been… tense, to say the least. You've been friends with the pogues since you could walk; they're like your family.

A year ago, your relationship with John B blossomed into something more and up until last month, the two of you had been a picture-perfect couple.

However, after everything with the treasure hunt and deserted island, something just changed. Your heart wasn't in it anymore, and John B agreed. Though it was mutual, it still put a strain on the group.

It's not like a normal breakup where you don't have to see each other anymore. Your entire friend group is shared, and you still have to hang out with him every day. It's getting easier, but how do you recover when you went from best friends to lovers and back again?

Walking away obviously isn't an option for either of you, so you're just trying to make the best of the situation.

You've found solace in JJ, the two of you growing even closer in the midst of your heartache. Which is exactly how you found yourself sitting at the end of the dock passing a joint back and forth.

The two of you have been laughing hysterically at nothing for the past hour when JJ suddenly goes quiet. You look over with a frown and find the man staring off into space. You wave your hand in front of his face with a small giggle.

"Earth to JJ. Anybody there?"

It's lighthearted, but his face is dangerously serious when he turns to look at you.

"I liked you first, you know."

The words hang in the air, thick and heavy as they register in your hazy mind.

"No, I don't know. What the hell are you talking about?"

You're genuinely confused at the random confession. You'd be lying if you said you don't find JJ attractive, but you never thought he'd see you in that light. He lets out an exasperated huff as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"I liked you before John B. That's why we made up the whole 'no pogue on pogue macking' rule. We found out we both wanted you, so instead of fighting, we made a truce and promised not to pursue it. I kept my word, he didn't."

He takes another hit of the joint and blows it toward the night sky, a thick white cloud dissipating in front of his face. He doesn't seem to realize the gravity of what he just said, but you feel like you're suffocating.

JJ liked you so much that they made up a rule?

"JJ.."

Your voice is soft as you reach out to grab his hand and his eyes dart down to where your flesh touches his.

"It's fine, Bambi. You didn't know, it's in the past now."

Your heart clenches at the nickname only he's allowed to use, and suddenly you feel tears sting your eyes. He's called you that since you were kids, your habit of falling and bumping into things earning you the fitting moniker.

"Is it?" You whisper, and you notice his breath catch.

That's all the answer you need and without thinking, you lean forward. He stares at you with wide eyes but doesn't pull back.

The moment your lips touch you realize how stupid you've been. Things were great with John B, you have chemistry and history, but it never felt like this. Electricity crackles under your skin, every nerve feeling like a live wire threatening to electrocute you.

He stiffens for a moment before succumbing to the sensation of your mouth massaging his. He's dreamed about this since seventh grade, and you're so much sweeter than he ever could have imagined.

The kiss deepens and you moan quietly as the taste of mint, beer, and weed mingles on your tastebuds.

He pulls away to breathe and you chase his lips, desperate to feel them again. Kissing him is like you were brought to life, suddenly aware of how dull the world has been all these years.

You didn't know what you had been missing, and now that you do, you're not sure you can make peace with not having it.

Your eyes slowly flutter open to find JJ already staring at you, and your fingers brush against the soft pink skin as if to make sure it's still there. His eyes are filled with love and lust, pupils blown, and you know he felt it too.

It's late, most likely early morning by now, and the rest of the group went to bed hours ago. You look around to make sure no one is watching, the only illumination coming from the moon and white Christmas lights strung around the wood railing.

As soon as you know you won't be caught, you lunge forward and JJ instantly wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel his muscles bulge as he maneuvers himself on top of you, his lips ravishing yours like a man starved.

Your movements are rushed and hasty, the idea of being seen looming over the two of you like a dark cloud. You lean your head back as his mouth moves down to your neck, the feeling nothing short of euphoric.

His lips are so soft, a stark contrast to the rough calloused texture of his hands as they roam under your shirt. He moves quickly, pulling down your bikini top and brushing his thumbs over your perked nipples.

Time seems to move at warp speed and in slow motion simultaneously as he unbuttons your shorts; your own hands moving down to his swim trunks. You can feel he's hard already, and he lets out a low groan when your slender fingers wrap around his thick cock.

Even without seeing him, you can tell he's bigger than John B.

The denim stings your freshly shaved legs as he drags them down the tan skin, a deep moan reverberating in his throat as he takes in the sight of your half-naked body below him. He stops abruptly and you look at him, concern written on your features.

"I don't have a condom."

You bite back a smartass remark about JJ Maybank not keeping a rubber in his pocket and settle instead for nipping at his Adam's apple.

"I'm on birth control."

He seems to like your response as he drops his head into the crook of your neck and rubs his tip through your folds to spread the wetness. Under different circumstances, you'd beg to taste him. But now is not the time, and you're certain you'll get the chance later.

He looks to you for confirmation, and you give it with a short nod.

You hiss as he pushes in an inch, the burning sensation as he stretches your heat taking you by surprise. You'd never had this problem with John B.

"I know, sweet girl. You can take it, I promise. I'll go slow."

He's speaking through clenched teeth and you know he's exercising a painful amount of restraint. He pulls back and pushes in a little more, repeating the movement a few times as you adjust to his size.

You gasp loudly at the feeling of being full, your eyes rolling back as he hits a spot you didn't know you had.

"Almost, baby. You're doing so good."

Your eyes snap open and peer into his, a look of sheer bewilderment on your face.

"That's not all of it?"

You don't think about the absurdity of the question until a playful smirk breaks out on JJ's face and your head rolls back in embarrassment.

With one more short thrust, you feel his hips meet yours and breathe a sigh of relief.

He stays still for a moment, waiting for your cue, which you give him in the form of lifting your hips.

He starts at a slow pace, testing the waters, and your mouth drops open. You briefly feel guilt over the fact you never let John B hit it raw, despite his incessant begging, but the thought is quickly erased.

You can feel every single inch of JJ, and your mind goes completely blank. He takes this as a good sign and speeds up a bit. His arm wraps around your hips, angling you up, and you let out a sharp whine at the new feeling.

He's pounding into you relentlessly now, each sharp thrust slamming his pelvis against your clit, and loud mewls rip from your throat each time he makes contact. You feel his hand cover your mouth to quiet you, but it doesn't do much to stifle the sheer volume of you screaming his name.

"As much as I love hearing those pretty sounds, and my name rolling off your tongue, you need to be quiet before you wake John B up. Can you do that for me, Bambi?"

His voice is strained, and the thought that you're the cause has delicious white hot heat bubbling in your abdomen. You nod against his palm and he resumes his brutal fucking.

It's not long before you feel the coil in your belly threatening to snap, and JJ knows you're close by the way your legs tremble and your chest arches into his.

The hand that was over your mouth drops down to where the two of you meet, and he rubs fast circles on your clit. You try desperately to silence yourself, your teeth drawing blood from your bottom lip as you clamp down.

JJ stops and removes his hand just long enough to push your shirt up so it's in your mouth before resuming his assault.

"Come on, Y/N. Let me feel you squeeze my cock. I'm dying to know what that pretty face looks like when you come."

The sound of him growling your name pushes you over the edge and your body convulses as pleasure you've never experienced before rips through your body. Every muscle seems to contract as your vision goes white and your fingers and toes tingle from the intensity of it all.

JJ fucks you through it, your own release triggering his as your pussy squeezes him with a vice-like grip he knows he'll feel for weeks. He paints your walls with a loud grunt, his face contorted beautifully from the force of his orgasm.

It takes you longer than usual to come down, your lingering high amplifying even the slightest sensation. You slowly feel your breathing calm down, and peel your eyes open to find a spent JJ staring down at you in wonder.

"There she is. You did so well, take some deep breaths for me okay? I don't need you hyperventilating and passing out on me."

You smile tiredly at the comedic relief, your body going completely limp as you regain feeling. You lay there and consider just sleeping outside as JJ pulls out carefully and starts cleaning you up.

"Do you usually do that?"

Your eyebrows furrow as you will your limbs to work.

"Do what?"

There's a brief pause before he answers, and when he does your eyes snap open.

"Squirt. Because it was the hottest thing I've ever seen and I kind of want to make you do it again."

Your body seems to kick into gear as you prop up on your elbows, and you stare at him in shock.

"Uh no, not really. I didn't even know I could do that."

You don't miss the victorious smile on his face, no doubt happy that he finally beat John B to something. You can't help but match his expression when his dimple pops out and he plops down next to you.

Neither of you says anything as you bask in the afterglow but you know you're both thinking the same thing. There's no coming back from this.

"Is it weird that it didn't feel weird?" You wonder quietly and his head flops to the side to observe your face.

"No, I don't think so. It kind of felt like something we should have been doing the whole time."

You breathe a sigh of relief and nod.

"I'm glad you said that, because I'd be super fucking bummed if we never did that again."

His bubbly laugh fills your ears and you lace your fingers through his gently. Another silence falls, and you're just about to stand when JJ speaks again.

"We can't tell John B, or anybody for that matter. Not for a while at least. We have to keep this on the down low."

There's a tinge of sadness in his voice and you nod solemnly.

"I know."

The next three months continue with you and JJ hooking up anytime you get the chance. It's not easy having to sneak around, especially when you're never alone. Making up excuses and cover stories is getting harder, and you know the group is getting suspicious.

One night after you managed a quickie, JJ is sitting out by the fire with John B just chatting when everything comes to a screeching halt.

"Why so glum?" JJ teases, and John B takes a long swig of his beer.

He's been staring blankly at the flames for twenty minutes now, and the silence is starting to irritate JJ.

"I'm still in love with her and I don't know how to stop."

John B's voice is barely audible, but JJ hears him crystal clear. In a matter of seconds, the guilt of his secret relationship with you crushes him and bile rises in his throat.

It's not just hooking up anymore, the two of you have developed real feelings and made it exclusive. Meanwhile, as he's living in bliss, his best friend is still torn up about you.

"I didn't realize it was that serious. I thought the breakup was mutual."

JJ tries to best to conceal his rapid breathing as he chokes on air, and it seems to work as John B releases a bitter laugh.

"I didn't want her to feel bad. What was I supposed to do when she said she wanted to end it? Confess my undying love and guilt her into staying?"

JJ doesn't have a response to that as his mind is sent reeling. Two best friends, both in love with their other best friend. How the fuck does he always get himself into these impossible situations?

He tries not to think about the fact your cum is dried on his boxers or that there's still an imprint from your lipstick smeared on his cock. He feels like John B can sense the pictures of him fucking you on his phone, and gets the urge to chuck it in the ocean.

"You just need to get laid, bro. She'll be off your mind in no time."

It's all he can muster before standing and basically sprinting into the chateau. He feels bad leaving his friend in a time of need, but he was choking like a fish out of water.

He knows it's bullshit. He's absolutely certain that after having you, he would never be able to move on. Not fully.

How could he when he's felt your loving touch and let you into the deepest corners of his heart? It's even worse to know that John B is in love with you when your heart is reserved solely for him now.

His feet carry him to you instantly, and the look on his face has you following him into the guest room without question. That seems to be a new ability he's gained since dating you. He always knows where you are, like his heart and body can sense you before his mind does.

"What going on?"

You cup his cheek the way you always do, and he leans into your touch. Normally it would bring him comfort, but hurt shoots through your chest when he seems to realize what he's doing and recoils.

"Did you know he's in love with you?"

The question takes you by surprise, and you try to get caught up to speed.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

His hand runs through his hair as he turns around, and he just as quickly whips back to face you.

"John B!" His voice is just below yelling and he lowers to a harsh whisper when he realizes.

"JB just told me he's still in love with you, Y/N."

You shake your head in disbelief and pace back and forth a few times before stopping.

"JJ, we never even said I love you. It's been months, why would he still have feelings for me?"

Despite dating for a year, you could never bring yourself to say the words. You do love John B, but you could never figure out why you weren't in love with him. It didn't make sense, not until you fell for JJ.

You're nearing panic as you resume pacing and JJ throws his hands up.

"Y/N, have you seen yourself? Who wouldn't be in love with you?"

You stop all of a sudden and turn slowly to look at your boyfriend.

"What?"

His brain seems to lag for a moment and you catch the exact millisecond he realizes what he said.

"No, I- I didn't me-"

You cut him off with two strides forward and he shrinks under your intense gaze.

"No, you asked who wouldn't be in love with me. Are you in love with me?"

He lets out a frustrated groan and rubs his hand down his tired face.

"Don't change the subject."

You scoff and quirk an eyebrow, suddenly much more interested in the man standing a mere six inches away from you.

"I'm not. You're the one who said it. So what's the answer? I'm not letting it go.

He ponders his options for a second before relenting. He knows you, and he knows that you will get an answer come hell or high water.

"Yes, okay? But now is not the time, so can we please put a pin in it?"

You smile brightly and kiss his cheek before standing flat on your feet again.

"Fine. For the record, I'm in love with you too. So what are we going to do?"

You can't help but think how cute he looks as the wheels turn in his head, and he gives a playful glare as you stare at him with heart eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, baby. We can't tell him, not now."

Your shoulders drop as you deflate. You know he's right, but it still sucks.

"I'm tired of hiding us." You murmur and JJ's features soften as he pulls you into a tight hug.

"Me too, but we have to be careful about this. Just a little bit longer, okay?"

He kisses the top of your head as you nod against his shoulder and pull back. The two of you compose yourselves, hiding any sign of affection, before trekking back out to the rest of the group.

A month later, you're all sitting around the bonfire after a kegger; a little too much alcohol coursing through your systems. You've settled into a game of truth or dare, loud laughs being shared as you all do ridiculous tasks and share secrets.

You're sitting across from JJ and he shoots you a wink when it's your turn.

"Okay Y/N, truth or dare?" Sarah asks and you press your finger to your chin pretending to think for a second before answering.

"Truth."

You instantly regret it as she gets a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Her and John B have gotten cozier since his confession last month and you're glad he's finally moving on. The problem is since you've both experienced a relationship with him, it opens you up to a whole new level of personal questions.

"Where's the craziest place you've had sex?"

You don't catch the smirk on John B's face as he takes a sip from his cup, thinking about the time you fucked on the open beach. He's sure that's your answer, and he almost chokes when you respond with something different.

"Either on the hood of a police car or on a motorcycle."

Your answer is immediate and you don't give it a second thought before spitting it out. It doesn't occur to you that your ex is sitting five feet away and that it most definitely wasn't with him; or that he knows you only had sex one other time before him in the bathroom at a party.

You don't realize that you just told him you've hooked up with someone since the breakup, and you don't see the way JJ tenses as your words linger in the air.

Sarah barks out a surprised laugh while raising her cup to cheers you.

"Who knew you were such a daredevil."

John B certainly didn't. You're about to move on when Kie interjects.

"Wait,"

JJs eyes squeeze shut when he realizes what's coming. This is terrible timing and the second worst way for the secret to be revealed. The only thing that could top this is being caught red-handed.

"JJ, didn't you tell me you hooked up with a girl on top of a cop car like three months ago?"

His mouth opens and shuts a few times as he fumbles for words while Pope adds fuel to the already scorching fire.

"Hold up, you told me you fucked a girl on your dirt bike two weeks ago."

As soon as he says it, JJ wishes the ground would swallow him whole. He could have passed one off as a coincidence, but both? It's not exactly common to hook up in those locations, and he knows you're caught.

His silence and your beet red face only confirm the suspicions, as realization dawns on everybody at the same time.

"Holy shit." Kie mutters and you don't dare look at John B as his eyes bore into the side of your face.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" His voice is laced with venom and you wince, instantly kicking yourself for your lapse in judgment.

Everybody jumps to their feet and your head spins as chaos breaks out. You're decidedly too drunk and not drunk enough for this and evaporating into thin air seems like a good idea right about now.

"He's my best fucking friend! You left me so you could fuck him? Since when are you a homie hopping whore?"

He's screaming now as Pope and Kie hold him back, and you look like a deer caught in headlights as tears pour down your cheeks. To her credit, Sarah is comforting you despite the conflict of interest and you're eternally grateful.

You drop your cup and gasp as JJ lunges forward, slamming into John B and tackling him to the ground.

"Don't fucking speak to her like that!"

His voice is hoarse as it booms from his throat and John B just laughs.

"What are you gonna do? Hit me? She's gonna get tired of you too, man. Before you know she's played you, she'll be on her knees for Pope."

JJ's fist collides against his nose with a sickening crack and you barely register your own voice as you scream for him to stop.

Much to your surprise, the blonde listens and is standing in front of you in an instant. Johns B's blood is on his knuckles and he cups your face tenderly as your friends tend to your wounded ex.

"How long?" John B coughs, and your eyes meet his over JJ's shoulder.

You can see the sheer hurt and betrayal and your stomach lurches. You never meant for any of this to happen.

"Four months."

Your answer is simple, yet John B looks like he's been shot.

"Un-fucking-believable. How could you do this?"

Your heart breaks as his voice cracks and JJ hates the anguish in your usually bright eyes.

"Hey, we don't have to do this right now."

You shake your head and step around him, coming face to face with your lifelong best friend.

"I didn't mean for this to happen, or for you to find out like this. Please, John B. I love him."

He physically recoils as the words ring out, and your knees wobble as they threaten to give out.

"I can't do this. You can't have us both."

He knows it isn't fair, but despite his growing feelings for Sarah, the idea of watching you be happy with a man thats like his brother makes him nauseous.

"Don't make me choose, John B."

You feel JJ's hand rest on the curve of your lower spine and subconsciously lean into him.

"Why? Because you'll choose him?"

He looks ill as he speaks and you slowly nod your head.

"Yeah. I choose him."

You mean it with all your heart, yet the words still taste like acid as they leave your tongue. This is exactly what you didn't want.

John B stays glued in place, his eyes raking over your face searching for any sign of doubt or deceit. When he finds none, his heart shatters all over again.

He knows he should leave, that he should stand his ground and never look back. But this isn't just anybody. This is two of his best friends in the entire world, and he doesn't have to ask JJ to know he'd choose you too.

He can't bring himself to walk away, and his eyes squeeze shut as reality sets in.

"I'll get over it."

He doesn't entirely believe himself as his voice shakes, but he's going to try. He's got a good thing with Sarah, and if you can be happy for him then he should try to be happy for you. If he loves you, he'll let you go.

You swallow thickly as you take a hesitant step forward and JJ resists the urge to pull you back.

"Pogues for life?" You ask quietly and he nods.

"Pogues for life."

Sarah and Kie take this as their chance and pull you inside, leaving the three men outside alone. JJ shifts his weight, hands wringing nervously as he anticipates John Bs next move.

"Hurt her and I kill you."

JJ gives a mock salute and watches as John B turns hastily to walk to the end of the pier. Pope looks at him with raised eyebrows and JJ gives him a pointed glare.

"Don't."

Pope raises his hands in surrender with a smug smile.

"Wasnt gonna. We all kind of knew besides John B anyway." He admits and JJ tosses his cup at him.

"Asshole."

@disturbedbeautywrites

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #John b angst #John b imagine #John b fic #John b x reader #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks angst #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic

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loguetowns · 9 months

Text

deal or no deal

portgas d. ace x reader

making deals with a pirate is a dangerous thing

"we have a contract!" + ace

2.5k words

a/n. i did not intend for this to be so long, but i always forget how easy it is to write for my favourite loveable boy ♡ anyways, this takes place during ace's great blackbeard search cover story hehe

cw. angsty ending and goodbyes (but there's a small epilogue!)

day 1.

this isn't what you signed up for.

chasing down mountain bandits and patrolling streets? sure. chasing down pirates at sea? absolutely.

what you didn't sign up for when you joined the marines was discovering pirates within your own naval base — a peculiar situation that you find yourself in at the moment.

"start talking now." you stare daggers at the tied up pirate in front of you. "what are you doing here?"

he squirms, doing his best to avoid your gaze. "i'm just looking for someone."

"to do what? rob them? assassinate them?"

"no," ace sighs. "i'm just trying to deliver a letter."

your surprise is quickly replaced with skepticism, ingrained into you by your hours of marine training. you lean in to study him, peering into his eyes to gauge whether he's telling the truth or not.

he has really cute freckles.

you blush at the intrusive thoughts, a wonderfully adorable sight that ace will surely tell you about later.

your eyes land on his arm tattoo, far too familiar for your liking. you recall a conversation you once had with vice admiral garp.

"you're one of whitebeard's men!" you gasp. you narrow your eyes at him. "are you trying to smuggle communications to blackbeard?"

his face hardens. "talking is the last thing i'd be doing if i found him."

disappointment floods you. gathering intel is your specialty, but it's been much harder to find information about blackbeard's coup than you'd like to admit. it would've been too easy if this pirate was in kahoots with him...

"look," he says, straightening up. "maybe we can help each other out."

you raise an eyebrow.

"if you help me with my letter, i'll tell you anything you want to know about marshall d. teach."

"including where he is and what's he's planning?"

"okay, maybe not that" — your face falls — "but only because i don't know! if you're looking into him, we can look together?"

you cross your arms.

"that hardly seems like a fair deal to me - you get your letter delivered and you get information about blackbeard? i'm going to need more than just some outdated background info."

"i'll have you know that i'm a commander under the most powerful pirate in the world," he huffs. "but i'll tell you what - after all this is said and done, you can arrest me."

at this, you stop to think about it. it would do very well for your career to bring in one of whitebeard's big shots. on top of that, imagine if you also had intel about blackbeard's whereabouts! surely, you'd get that promotion you've been vying for.

and while you're fantasizing about the rewards for ace's capture, he smiles to himself. having someone on the inside will help him stay undercover and, if he's lucky, he'll get some answers about teach before he goes on his merry way.

for ace has no intention of being caught by any marine — no matter how cute they are.

"alright," you finally say. "you've got yourself a deal."

he grins, and you falter for what will not be the last time at how handsome he is when he smiles.

"nice t' meet ya, partner."

day 5.

"holy cow, look at the amount of food on that guy's plate!"

"i told you the rumours about the new guy were true."

"where does all that food even go?"

"what a freak..."

the gossip of your peers gets drowned out by the screech of a chair being pulled and the loud thud! of a plastic tray barely supporting the mountain of food on top of it.

"man, don't you love dinner time? you guys have it made!"

"what are you doing?" you hiss.

ace can only offer you a look of confusion, too busy stuffing his face with a drumstick in each hand.

"'you guys?' you're supposed to be one of us, remember?" you point at him with your fork. "and for a guy who's trying to stay undercover, you sure are calling a lot of attention to yourself."

"i can't help it," he says — or tries to say. his voice comes out muffled from the food he's shovelling into his face. "i have needs."

for what it's worth, there is something adorable in the way that this uncouth man looks so happy with his cheeks stuffed like a squirrel. you can't help but giggle, and it makes ace smile.

he thinks to himself,

what a cute laugh.

day 8.

ace yawns, stretching his arms before his hands land on the back of his neck.

"is this where taxpayer money goes? to pay two marines to go for a stroll when they could be doing that for free?"

"it's called patrol, and everyone has to do it," you nudge him with your elbow. "especially non-tax paying criminals disguised as law enforcement."

"y'know, being a marine isn't so hard. boring, but easy enough."

"easy, he says! it's only easy because i'm the one busting my ass to try and keep your cover under control."

ace gives you a sideways glance, flashing a lazy grin. "tomato, to-mah-to."

you roll your eyes, but ace knows you well enough by now to distinguish your seriously-pissed eye roll from your endearingly-annoyed eye roll.

he can say with 99% certainty that this one is the latter.

and to make up up for that missing 1%, ace waggles his eyebrows in the way that made you laugh yesterday. to his delight, you giggle again and he swells.

walking down a line of shoppes, your arm brushes past his as you point to his left, "see that parlour over there? they have the best ice cream in the world."

"that's a ballsy proclamation, officer."

"yeah? what makes you say that, officer?"

"you're talking to the ice cream connoiseur on this side of the ocean. i don't know if i can just take your word for it."

"so you're saying i'm lying?"

"no," he grins at you, devious, dazzling and dashing. he nods towards the store. "i'm saying that we should go get some ice cream."

15 minutes later, ace has to agree that this was, in fact, the best ice cream he's ever had. he laughs at your boasting and your "i told you!" and your sermon about the fruit-to-cream ratio, and he wonders if you know that the reason why he's enjoying this ice cream has nothing to do with the flavour and everything to do with you.

day 16.

"ace? what are you-"

"quick! run!" he grabs your hand and practically drags you down the hallway at lightning speed. you nearly trip over your feet as you run behind him.

"hey! stop right there!" booms a voice behind you.

"we gotta hide!"

like any well-trained soldier, it's answers first and questions later. "there's a closet on your right around the corner!"

ace darts around the corner with you in hot pursuit. he thrusts open the closet and quickly pulls you inside.

"who-"

"shh!"

you hear running getting louder, and you decide to question ace later. in this tiny broom closet, you do your best to discern what's happening on the other side. both of you press an ear to the door and listen carefully.

footsteps approaching. footsteps slowing down. footsteps stopping just outside the closet.

you hold your breath.

it feels like an eternity that ace's pursuer stands on the other side and you don't dare to make a single peep. you lock eyes with ace, who stares back at you with an exhilarated smile.

a voice mutters, "i could've sworn-"

"commodore, sir!"

you gape at ace with wild incredulity.

commodore? you mouth with wide eyes.

he winks at you, holding a finger to his lips.

"they're looking for you in the grand boardroom, sir."

a pause.

"alright, at ease. let's go."

the two men walk away, but neither of you dare say anything until a solid minute after the footsteps fade away. and then-

you smack ace across the chest, "what-"

"ow!"

"-did you do?"

"that hurts!"

you shoot daggers at him.

he smiles sheepishly at you, "okay, i deserve that. but look what i found in his office!"

he holds up a sheet of paper with excitement. in the darkness of the closet, you can't make out the words and only look at him with confusion.

"there's a scout ship coming from the green shores. as far as i know, that's where teach was last seen!" he rushes through his words. "and comil's going to be on that ship! we can kill two birds with one stone!"

he looks at you expectantly as you process what he says.

"if vice admiral comil's on that ship then they'll definitely have detailed notes of their observations... there's no way they wouldn't have gathered intel!"

"that's what i'm saying!"

"ace, that's great!" you throw your arms around him. "this is it!"

it's not until ace instinctively wraps his arms around you that you realize two very important things.

one. if vice admiral comil truly is on that ship, that means that your adventure with ace is coming to an end soon.

your heart sinks.

two. you and ace are alone, hugging, in a very, very dark and cramped broom closet — and you don't want to stop.

your heart races.

you look up at ace and he's never looked more earnest. mischievous, startled, impressed, hungry, and even flirty — you've had the privilege to learn what each of these expressions look like on ace's handsome face.

but this — his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that burns as hot as your cheeks — is a first.

you swear that you can feel his heart beat against your chest. he feels warm, even in an open vest, and you realize that he felt just as warm when he was holding your hand.

he brushes hair out of your face and, for a second time in this room, you hold your breath.

do it.

"you're right," he says quietly. "this is it."

and then, as if he heard your prayer, he kisses you.

day 23.

"are you okay? are you hurt?" you look for any sign of harm under all the soot on ace

"relax, it's just fire." he grins, "they do call me 'firefist ace', y'know."

finished with your examination, you reach up to brush away a bit of ash on his cheek. given any other circumstance, that smug smile on his face would make your heart flush.

right now, though, all you can think about are his words, sinking into your skin like lead.

"i know who you are, ace. the problem is," you do your best to erase any emotion from your voice. "so does everyone else now."

ever impulsive, the implication of ace's actions doesn't hit him until now. silence settles between you for a moment, and in the background, the commotion becomes audible. between the ship fire and ace's identity reveal, you've never heard so much chaos happen at once.

"they're looking for you," you say quietly. "they'll find you soon."

you wish you had more time. in the past 3 weeks, you've realized — on more than once occasion — that this is not what you signed up for. this had started out as a purely transactional relationship between a criminal and law enforcement, i.e. the bad guy and the good guy.

but it's been so much more than that.

in all his smiles and stupidity, his companionship, and his kind, kind heart, ace has proven to you over and over again that he's more than just the bad guy that your training manual has made him out to be.

you thumb the seastone cuffs hanging from your waist, completely lost in your thoughts. your stupid agreement looms over you; you know this is your only chance to arrest him.

it's not until he says your name that you remember where you are.

"did you say something?"

ace takes a deep breath, looking far more serious than you've seen.

"the deal's off."

huh?

"but we have a contract," you cling onto the very thing that you were just cursing. "you can't just do that! you got everything you wanted, you- it's not fair-"

he takes your hand, and the small act of affection is enough to quiet your protests.

"will you listen to me for a second?"

his voice is gentle, careful, loving. you manage to nod.

"i think," he intertwines his fingers in yours. "we both knew that my arrest was never going to happen."

you say nothing, waiting.

"i have no intention of getting captured here," he takes your other hand. "and i don't think you want to do it either."

a pang in your chest. he's right, and you know it. deep down, you knew that you were never going to be able to hold up your end of the bargain. the idea of putting an end to his adventures is something that you could never do.

he presses his forehead against yours, and it's so, so warm. it makes your heart ache. you close your eyes, focusing solely on the warmth that blooms from where you and ace are connected — from your foreheads, from your fingertips — as if it might make this any easier.

"hey," ace's voice is barely a whisper. "look at me."

like a good marine, you do as you're told.

you look into his dark eyes, and they look into yours.

"here's what i want you to do," his breath fans your cheeks.

"you're going to tell the captain that i'm going after blackbeard. tell them that you have information on his defection from the whitebeard pirates for the murder of a crewmate, okay?"

you nod again, willing the tears that are building in your chest to stay where they are.

"and thank you," he says. ace's voice breaks, and that's when the dam cracks. tears fall onto your cheeks as he does his best to continue.

"thank you for your help," ace says, knowing that he's running out of time and conviction to leave. "and for giving me everything i wanted."

he tilts your chin up to wipe away your tears, "you are everything."

and he kisses you for what feels like a millisecond and a lifetime all at once. he tastes like unfinished stories and goodbyes come too soon — like the sweetness of ice cream on a summer afternoon, like the warmth of breakfast on an autumn morning, and the richness of hot cocoa on a winter night.

he tastes like what you imagine love to be.

"wait for me," is the last thing he says to you before he leaves.

and like a good marine, you'll do as you're told.

epilogue.

"mail for ya, sarge!"

you take the letter from the young postal worker, thanking her for delivering your letter. you inspect the letter, curiosity growing as you do. there's no return address or sender, just your name and what looks to be a burn mark.

you smile.

ripping open the envelope, you find a photograph of a freckled pirate in his orange hat in front of an ice cream shoppe, eyes smiling in that way that makes him look like a little kid.

there's a sign in the background that reads "best ice cream in the world!" and you laugh. flipping over the photo of ace, you find a short message.

gonna need you to come verify their claims - let's go together next time.

it's a deal.

#portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece fanfiction #¡! ❞ [ fics ]

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