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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

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eemcintyre · 3 months

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I am getting real tired of the modern, technology-driven notion that everyone has to be constantly available to everyone in their life.

Like, if it's an emergency I will be there for you 100%, but I have now had multiple friendships/relation-ish-ships end (all with men btw- coincidence...?) because I didn't text them back right away, every day, multiple times a day.

Am I the only one who thinks that this is, at best, ridiculously needy, and at worst, ridiculously entitled behavior?? This level of clinginess and insecurity (that somehow is my responsibility to reassure???) is a huge turn-off.

Not only do I think it's important and healthy for everyone to be comfortable spending some amount of time alone with their own thoughts, but I *especially* have always needed a lot of solitude and independence (idk maybe it comes from how controlled I was as a child and how few friends I had, but that's a whole other tangent right there). I require room to do my own thing, and while I love my friends and they are important to me, I'm not totally dependent on them and every ounce of my happiness and self-worth doesn't hinge on them. Honestly, the more someone tries to cling to me and rein me in, the more I feel compelled to distance myself. I need to know that I am free.

Anyway, this seems to intimidate a lot of people who are immature and not secure in themselves and are still suffering from unresolved past trauma that they are projecting onto me. They find it intimidating that even though I can want someone in my life and like or love them, I don't need them in it to survive because I am ultimately comfortable with myself and know my value enough now to not compromise who I am just to keep them in my life. They find it scary and foreign that I don't need constant reassurance and don't have the energy or will to provide it; that I can be content doing my own thing. Aka me having my own separate life in addition to our relationship and enjoying alone time = I don't care about them at all.

I need someone with the maturity, emotional intelligence, and self-esteem to realize that not everything is about them- I have more than one person in my life, I have a job, I have hobbies, etc., and even just because I am not busy at a point in time doesn't mean that time is *free* time. That is recharge and contemplation time.

I have even, against my better judgment, tried compromising my own boundaries to accommodate these people's insecurities and needs, and it didn't work. It's never enough. Also why does it always have to be me who compromises and makes the changes, and not them? Why don't they have to try and work on themselves to become less dependent on others and more secure? Why is it me who always has to drain all of my energy with forced, ingenuine conversation and interaction and trying to heal the past issues of other grown adults that they are projecting onto me?

I'm sick of my boundaries being disrespected. You are valid if it mentally drains you to be in constant contact with other people, and you are no less of a kind, caring person and good friend or partner for being that way. Like, it has nothing to do with you; I just recharge from spending time alone where I can think and exist without being observed or obligated to entertain others; being able to do exactly what I feel like, analyze my thoughts, or enjoy the quiet. Honestly, most people who require more contact (to a reasonable and non-codependent degree) are valid too; I just think both groups need to either compromise equally in relationships or seek out people who are more like-minded rather than existing in constant strife trying to change and/or make each other understood.

I know that I am a good, kind, friendly, and generous lady who brings a lot to the table, and I am sick of trying to convince people of it. If they want to leave because they can't handle physical and mental personal space, then no hard feelings at the end of the day but they are absolutely welcome to. I'm tired of letting people guilt and disparage and try to change me when I'm not doing anything wrong.

#to clarify that last line #obviously I can do wrong but I am only speaking on the post topic #alone time #solitude #independence #independent woman #introvert #introversion #infj #infp #entitlement issues #boundaries #setting boundaries

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corruptedplaylist · 6 months

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act i behind the scenes

hi hello, welcome to a little bts for my voltron college au fanfic, looking out for you on ao3!

favorite scene: the ending of chapter 5, actually! i remember i was typing as fast as i fucking could to try and get it done and sent to my beta (i was also holding my family up for dinner lmao). the last few paragraphs where keith reflects on how far he's come and lance catching him in his own head— that just kinda poured out of me and after going back and rereading it, i don't think there was ever a different way to end the chapter.

favorite character: copout answer but i dont have a favorite character to write. i have a huge soft spot for canon lance and pidge but in the fic, i love the small moments where lance or keith are interacting one-on-one with each other or with other people. i feel like i can really dig into the characterization there. hunk and lance's dynamic has been really fun for me to write because i am so soft at the thought of childhood best friends who have seen each other in almost every version of themselves and know each other in and out. i think hunk and lance stabilize each other pretty well, and they just seem to exist as two sides of the same coin. i also really enjoy pidge's dynamic with lance because it reminds me of two of my friends who were essentially brother and sister and argued all the time and made fun of each other. but ultimately, they'd fight to the death for each other. shiro and keith's dynamic is fun because i like being able to get in keith's head and write a shit ton of his inner monologue but then what comes out is like three sentences while shiro just patiently waits for him to spit it out. i also have been hinting (which ill be deepning later on) that even though keith and shiro love each other and are close, there's some distance between them that's built over time. i think it's natural, especially when keith still hasn't fully come to terms that someone he perceives to be a hero would ever take a chance on him. when shiro, the gay depressed bitch that he is, goes to college and experiences the sanctity of forming your own community and meeting people who really truly get you, ofc he's going to constantly want to go back. i think that yearning definitely scares keith and thus leads him to distancing himself as a means of self preservation. and ofc, shiro sees keith pulling away but isn't sure what to do because keith won't talk to him so there's gonna be some underlying tension. can't wait to unpack all of that! i love u space dad i love u space emo.

least favorite scene: i fucking hate action oml. i don't mind reading it but i cannot stand writing it and that's mainly because i have such a rotten little brain that has a hard time processing shit and so the pacing is really difficult for me. (thank u to my beta for suffering through my constant questions). all the paintball scenes in act i weren't my favorite because i had to constantly map out where all 12 characters were on the field at all times and how they were moving and where they were moving. that being said, i do think the paintball scenes were valuable because i got to explore how each individual member would act separately and then as a group. i am v happy that there will be no more paintball after this, tho. (i have never played paintball before in my life). character's ethnic identities yeah so i made a note around chapter 2? i think? that i wanted to incorporate the lived experiences of 1.5, second, and third generation immigrants because this is a fanfic but also i wanted to ground it in reality a little. as a person of color, going to college i had the freedom to explore my identity and also reconcile notions of home and tradition with an entirely new group of people. im a huge sucker for language and it was important to me to incorporate various degrees of bilingualness because that's how i saw other people from multicultural households talk.

i couldn't really include keith being half-galra in a college au but i did see potential to have him go through an identity crisis about being half-korean (asians being forever foreigners, aliens, immigrants). since krolia wasn't there to see him grow up and help him connect with his korean heritage, i think that definitely contributed to keith's anger and trauma of not having the one person who could understand what he was feeling. as someone who grew up not knowing their biological family, i can understand keith's reluctance to even attempt to dive into his heritage and so he's just stuck in this liminal space where he's half-korean living with two japanese people. i created a somewhat elaborate backstory for him and i have big plans for his identity exploration further on so im very excited to project write more.

this has been a short but sweet bts of looking out for you! get excited for act ii! there will be more klance(!!!) and relationship development among the other characters (keith & allura, lance & allura, lance & adam!)

#ao3 fanfic #klance #college au #voltron legendary defender #behind the scenes #lance mcclain #keith kogane #takashi shirogane #adam voltron #allura vld #hunk garrett #pidge holt

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sapphos-darlings · 2 years

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I'm really struggling with my identity. Soon it will be illegal to discuss being non straight with anyone, as it will be seen as propaganda or promoting hate. To top it off, I am currently stuck in a homophobic household and look very tomboyish. I'm tortured by thoughts of trying to become normal and "looking" normal. I hate the fact that I found out I was never bi, but actually a lesbian. I wish I never knew it. Moreover, I constantly talk about queer stuff with my friends, which is a telltale sign that I'm insecure about it. I know I have friends who accept me and I know that soon I'll live in an accepting country, but my mind is stuck in the upsetting present.

Being a same-sex attracted woman is really tough in today's world. We're left feeling so alone and ostracised, and it feels like all around, governments and radical groups are pushing in to not only restrict our rights and oppress us as LGBT women, but as people with female bodies. It feels inescapable and claustrophobic to look around and see the same message closing in on all sides.

But we're not alone. Oppression leaves us isolated on the sides, but at the core, it pushes us closer together. When each other is all we have, it tends to lessen the degrees of separation within. A common enemy makes a group tighter, and right now, we're under fire from very specific and obvious groups - a common cause that brings more of us needing the shelter, the comfort of community of women like us.

There is nothing wrong with you being a lesbian. A woman's love for another is beautiful and freeing, it is a private, amazing story for just you and the one you love, and the people you share it with. Don't let yourself be isolated; seek out groups that embrace you, even if they seem far away, even if you can't participate in them because of your vulnerabilities such as an all-seeing government, and remember that you are right, and they are wrong. They hate what they don't understand, they fear what they don't understand, but you, as you are, simply cannot be wrong. Your existence is morally neutral. You do not deserve suffering. You do not deserve oppression, and you do not deserve to live in fear.

The darkness never lasts forever. Even if it's our job to walk through it, by doing so, by persisting, by surviving and fighting for our survival, we're paving the way for the light to shine again.

There is nothing wrong with you.

#mod sade #ask #wlw #lgbt #lesbian

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georgieluz · 5 months

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6, 10 and 13! 💚

hiiiii 💚

i answered 6 over here just a second ago, but i haven't done 10 or 13 yet so let me do those

10. worst part of fanon

i generally enjoy most parts of fanon but there are a few things that i sometimes don't particularly agree with, or see, myself? harry welsh being constantly described as the token straight is one of them. i know that most of the time this is a lighthearted joke/meme type of thing, but i do think the fandom actually thinks it too. i mostly find this kinda weird bc the only reason people give is that he talks about his wife a lot and is super super into her. bi and pan men can also love their wives to that degree and be "dedicated wife men". it just feels kinda exclusionary that people just naturally assume that a man who loves his wife in a wholesome way can't be bi or pan. especially bc it never applies to any of the other easy men who canonically had wives. and honestly, take it from me, an actual queer man: in comparison to most of the men in easy company, harry actually has queer vibes in abundance. he's definitely not giving cishet man the way people headcanon him. it's not really that deep, but yeah, i will 100% die on this hill. harry welsh is pan and kitty grogan is bi!! harry just doesn't feel like he'd give a fuck about the gender of the person he's into. i feel like he just wouldn't think about it in that kinda way, he'd be like "well, i'm into this person and that's that" and would just be down bad for them regardless of what they identify as.

so yeah, fuck the token straight harry headcanons!! if anything, [redacted] is actually the token straight :)

13. worst blorbofication

ok this is actually a bit of a tough one bc blorbofication is different to uwufication in my mind. like it's a whole separate thing to me. uwufication is more about taking away all the sharp messy edges of a character, whereas blorbofication is more about "oh this character lives in my chest now. i live and breathe their essence" kinda thing. so i don't think blorbofying characters is necessarily something i would see as having a 'worst', especially in our fandom, where side characters with little screen time are often fan favourites. in fact, i'd encourage the blorbofication of all hbo war characters!!! uwuifying some of them in writing does really put me off a fic or headcanon though, especially if it's very ooc. i don't mean the fics where you go deeper into their emotions and explore their inner feelings, or where there is a gradual evolution of their character, that's just good writing, but the ones where all their rough traits and flaws are filed down and polished away, just so the author can write the perfect little fluff fic with innocent flaw-free canvases instead of characters. people do it with speirton all the time, less so with webgott but you do still see it. i'd say winnix fall somewhere in the middle, but closer to speirton than webgott, on the scale. messy winnix is actually way way way more interesting than the flat boring married side couple that most fics position them as. i've gone off-track but still!

for the choose violence ask game!

#julian's inbox #julian's ask games

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creatur3creati0ns · 8 months

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The Past 20 Years

I thought this would be the best way to start this blog. I think that’s still what this is called. Clearly I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’ve told my life story before to a lot of people, yet every time I try to sit down to write some of it out, I just don’t know where to start.

Trigger warning for mentions of religious trauma, childhood trauma and abuse, mental illness struggles, mention of self harm and suicidal ideation, alcoholism, eating disorders, fatphobia, homophobia and transphobia.

I was born in Michigan, and when I was around five my parents moved me and my twin (fraternal) sister to Arizona. Around then, my grandfather passed away from lung cancer. Sometime before that, I think, my parents got divorced. I have a very bad memory, a lot of that is attributed to childhood trauma and abuse and lifelong dissociation. I really only remember what my mother has told other people while I’m in the same room.

My father always lived nearby, and eventually he moved back into the house. Separate room than my mother, but because she would leave town for work often, it was easier for him to care for us while she was gone. My dad is retired from General Motors and is an Army veteran. My mother was a commercial bus driver. My sister and I got to go on trips a lot because of it. Everyone from out of the country loved the two twins who were dressed up as cowgirls.

Sometime in third grade, my parents moved us to a rural part of Arizona. Very small and conservative town. We lived on about four acres of land, with neighbors pretty far away. We were about 15 mins from town, from civilization. The church me and my sister were dragged to every Sunday was about forty-five minutes away. It was then that my mother went back to college. After a few years, with homeschooling thrown in there, my sister and I got moved to a bigger town about two hours away.

This is probably when I start remembering my life the most. Now is a good time to mention my stomach problems, because it’s a huge part of my life and after reading this whole thing a few times, I have nowhere else to stick this paragraph in. My mother says I was practically born with these stomach issues, I don’t remember them as a young kid, only when I hit maybe 11 or 12. Without getting into too much detail, something is wrong with my stomach. I would love to be more descriptive, but after literal years of allergy tests and diets and even an endoscopy, no one has any idea what is wrong with it. Every food and drink (even water) upsets it and I have stomach pain nearly constantly. It’s gotten better in the past two years, mainly due to not being in school or around my family, but it’s still pretty awful. On average I spend at least two hours in the bathroom each day because of this, and I have to be careful with consuming anything in public if I don’t have a bathroom near me. Okay, that’s personal enough. It’s a big problem. I’ve had chronic health problems all my life, so just keep that in mind as you read later about the other crazy shit that my body pulls.

A few months into fifth grade we went back to public school, and my mother finished her college degree for social work about a year or two later. We were living in our van for a while, then an RV, then an apartment, and then finally the house where I would spend the rest of my childhood. My dad lived in his own room across the hall.

My dad is diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and has been on medication for it most of my life. He’s also an alcoholic. Three beers before noon, more throughout the day. He never was really drunk unless my mother had friends over. I didn’t like when he was drunk. He got louder. My father had anger issues my whole life. He yelled over anything someone did that upset him, except if it was my mother who did it. She was always the one in charge. Even though they were divorced he was deeply in love with her. He acted more like an adult older brother who still lived at home. He never acted like a father. I have a lot of trauma from his yelling. Dropping a glass or a drink or running into something. Folding a towel the wrong day, not cooking the way he liked. Any time I was in the kitchen he would come in and stand behind me, watching and not saying anything. I’m still working through all that. But I used to watch westerns with him on the couch, his arm around me. We would watch baseball and football, but baseball was my favorite. Or at least, it was his favorite. I got a lot of my music taste from him. Rock and roll on the radio whenever he was driving us somewhere. We bonded over that as I got older. I dyed my hair orange when I turned 18, and he loved it. Orange is his favorite color. When I started getting piercings he loved those too. Asked when I was going to get a tattoo. He had a few old ones from when he was younger, and he loved talking about them almost as much as I loved asking about them. As an outsider, my dad was a pretty cool guy. But he was an awful father.

I was always closer with my mother. I’m having a hard time right now thinking about what to write about her. She has some good qualities, but I’m not at the point in my life where I could name them sincerely. She is suspected to have borderline personality disorder that is untreated and ignored. She had horrific childhood trauma that she would casually talk about over Christmas dinner. It was her dad that passed from lung cancer. She tried her best, that’s what she always told me. But I honestly don’t care. She was a horrible mother, a horrible person.

At thirteen, I was in a car accident. Rear-ended at a stoplight while my dad was driving. My sister and I were in the back seat, and the car was totaled. The guy hit us at about 30 miles per hour. Hit the gas instead of the brake. We went home to eat dinner, and then my dad took us to the ER. Mild whiplash, no scans, no nothing. Told to go home. The next day I had my first ever panic attack.

About a year of panic attacks, self harm, grades dropping, and suicidal ideation, I finally told my mother about it. Primary care physician appointments nearly every week led to a Phoenix Children’s Hospital referral. Psychology, neurology, anyone who might help. After about another year I left with a diagnosis of a traumatic brain injury, social anxiety, and major depressive disorder. I was put onto medication. I switched medications about eight more times. Eventually my mother didn’t let me try anymore. Soon after I started getting chronic migraines and nausea. The nausea went away sometimes, but for over a year I had a migraine constantly. At its lowest it was a 5 on the pain scale. It never went away. When I woke up and when I went to bed it was always there. Even a shot of Toradol in my ass didn’t make a dent.

This is where I’ll talk more about my mother. Most of the issues started after the car accident. Along with my struggles came her ignorance. I would break down in front of her over school, she would stare at me coldly, saying that grades and graduating is important and that she’s trying everything that she can. I would say I was suicidal and self harming, she would cry and say she was an awful mother. I would leave the conversation with me having consoled her, telling her she’s great and I’m going to be okay. Of course, her doing everything in her power consisted of taking me to church programs that were meant to heal me, asking her prayer group to pray for me, telling me to pray and meditate when my chronic migraines were getting so bad I could barely stand, and threatening to take me to the hospital if I kept saying I was suicidal. The one time she took me to the ER, she wouldn’t let them put me into an inpatient program. She took me home to be on suicide watch. She said if I hurt myself during it that she would be arrested. She took me off my antidepressants and told me not to tell my doctors, to lie and say I was still on them. She did everything she could think of, but apparently she never thought of actually listening to what I was asking for.

I had started therapy maybe a month before my car accident, because I had come to accept that I was bisexual and I knew that, according to my mother and my father and my grandmother and my church and the Bible, it was a sin. That therapist stopped answering our calls after my mother told him that a few sessions in.

My mother continued switching me from therapist to therapist, most of them Christian, none of them I had a say in. When I finally found one that I connected with and who was helping me make progress, my mother stopped making me see her. I was realizing that my mother was abusing me, and I was trying to help myself and set boundaries, and according to her, “I’m your mother, you can’t have any boundaries with me.” So that therapist was out. With all the therapists I had seen, one of the worst was my second one, who was the step-daughter of the first therapist who ghosted me. She liked to quote scripture at me, and say that she wished God would let her love gay people, but unfortunately he didn’t.

The worst therapist I had ever seen, by far, was a woman who specialized in equine therapy. I was never into horses. My mother, though, loved horses dearly, which was of course the only thing that mattered. When talking to her, it was fine. I don’t remember it much. The way she practiced therapy, though, was, in my opinion, unacceptable. Because she recognized that I struggled with placing boundaries (because I was told by my mother that I couldn’t), she decided to try to help me by placing me across the room and speed walking toward me, not stopping until I place my hand out in front of me and say “stop” loud and clear. As you can imagine, this caused issues, because this was her very first solution to this problem, rather than actually talking about it. And refusing to stop until I say “stop” in a way that she likes seems pretty messed up. Each time she did it I was forced closer and closer to a panic attack. She told me her eventual plan was to have herself replaced by a horse, who was walking (maybe even trotting) towards me. This probably would have killed me, because I was honestly afraid of horses at the time. Yes, my mother knew this, no, it did not matter. Any time we interacted with the horses, I was filled with anxiety and fear and every week I dreaded the appointment, and left with more trauma than I came in with. I asked to stop the appointments quickly, but my mother made me go for at least a month. After I left, I was done with therapists for a while.

I struggled through school since the car accident. My sister and I changed schools after starting 9th grade. I almost dropped out a few times, and I don’t think anyone actually expected me to graduate. I sure didn’t. I had to get a 504, which was basically a set of rules my teachers had to legally follow because of my disabilities. My brain injury, and at the time, chronic migraines and nausea. This meant extra time on assignments, no presenting in front of the class, no being called on in class, and being able to leave class at any moment to go to the office if I started having a panic attack. I had to do this often. Some weeks it was every day, and I would be there for hours, missing classes. This caused me to fall behind more. I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital twice during high school, once in December of 2019, and again in April of 2021. I graduated in May of 2021, and walked across the stage high out of my mind on the half pill of gabapentin my mother gave me before the ceremony.

The last therapist I saw as a minor was through my high school. I was very close with the principal and guidance counselor due to my issues. We had to interact daily due to my 504 and me being constantly in the office. The last semester of senior year I took every class via Microsoft Teams while working in the guidance counselor’s office. My anxiety and depression had reached a point where I could not be in a classroom setting and around other people. She mentioned starting a group therapy for students, and when the therapist came to the school I was the only one who had signed up. I saw my chance, and I told him everything. The car accident, the panic attacks, the abuse, the self harm, the suicidal ideation, the fact that I was so sure I wasn’t going to graduate high school but my whole life depended on it and it was all my mother cared about. I had less than an hour and I talked the whole time because I knew this was my only chance. I hadn’t seen a therapist in a while and I was self harming daily, and was very close to a very real suicide attempt. And so he went out to the parking lot where my mother was (that’s a whole other crazy story. For a short time she was parked in front of the office all day to “make sure” I was doing my work and to “be there” if I ended up having a panic attack. My principal was not pleased.) and tried to talk her into letting me become his client. She told him that I had an eating disorder, which at the time, I had no idea she knew about because she never asked or did anything about it. There’s another point off for the Mother of the Decade award there. Long story short, she signed the forms, and he came to the school every week to see me. I joined the group therapy anyway, but the students just ended up unintentionally triggering me and the worksheets given out weren’t helpful if you had been in therapy for around four years already. He helped me get through the last few months of my high school career. He helped me go back to inpatient psychiatric care when things just got worse. When I turned 18 he still kept me as his client, despite being a therapist for adolescents. I stopped seeing him about a month after I moved out, because the company he worked for realized they weren’t getting paid by insurance so we had to end sessions immediately. He wasn’t the best therapist I’ve ever had (my current ones are a lot to live up to), but he quite literally saved my life and got me through the last few months as a minor, and for that I owe him. He was a sick dude and I hope he’s still good.

I turned eighteen five days before I graduated, and the first thing I did as a legal adult was go to the DMV and get my ID. My partner and I had been planning for a few months to move to Phoenix. Them for college, me to get the hell away from my family. I needed an ID for that, along with getting piercings and tattoos, which I knew I wanted to do immediately. My mother hated tattoos, piercings, and dyed hair but always told me that once I turned 18, I could do what I wanted with my appearance, even if I was still living with her. This proved to be a lie, because when I dyed my hair at 18 she got mad I didn’t ask her, and when my sister and I wanted piercings, we had to let her know in advance and promise it wasn’t a septum piercing because we were “still under her roof”. Don’t worry, after I moved I continued to mess up my appearance without letting her know and gave her multiple mini heart attacks over it. And I of course got a septum piercing. It felt good.

August of 2021, the lawsuit against the driver who hit me in 2016 finally came to an end, and I was awarded, quite frankly, a fuck-ton of money. I was eighteen. Safe to say the money lasted a little over a year. Between crazy medical bills and the fact that I was a teenager who just got out of an abusive household and started living with my partner, the money went by quickly. Especially when I wasn’t earning any money. For a year I stayed inside our apartment, had therapy appointments every week, doctor appointments almost every week, many tests and procedures and hospital trips. I started to have chronic hives a month into moving into my apartment, with no apparent cause. Every allergy test came back negative, and no one had any idea what was going on, but I was still spending a lot of money trying to figure it out. It landed me in Urgent Care about three times, due to my face blowing up about three times normal size. I left with a Prednisone prescription and an epipen. After 3 months of hives that never went away and would get worse randomly, my therapist suggested my body was trying to tell me that now was the time to start medically transitioning after waiting for five-ish years. Weirder things have happened, and there was a lot of evidence as to why this might be the case. This is probably something I want to talk about at some point, my relationship to my body and how it communicates with me. And it was communicating pretty clearly. “Testosterone now or I’m going to kill you” was heard loud and clear. I was in a safe place, physically, and, at the time, had money. So one gender therapist appointment and a single phone call later, I started testosterone February 17, 2022. I haven’t had hives since.

I developed an eating disorder in middle school, not long after my car accident. I don’t think those are related, but my mother was plus size all my life and there was not a day that went by that she didn’t speak badly of herself, and that definitely is related. Same for my grandmother. They were on diets constantly. I was put on diets due to my stomach issues, but never for my weight. I was average weight as a kid, and at around 14 I started gaining weight. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for my mother to comment on it. Into the “thinspo” and “ana” pipeline we go. I remained thin for years, and when I moved out I was probably at my lowest weight. Then my hives started. I was put on steroids for months straight. A side effect of that is weight gain. I don’t know how much I weigh, because I chose not to weigh myself, but I think saying I gained 70/80 pounds wouldn’t be too far off. It was a big change, something I could not control. All I could do was watch. It was a lot to get used to so suddenly, especially when dealing with so many other things in my life. My body was changing even before I started testosterone. As most people with an eating disorder know, gaining weight is your greatest fear. Pretty quickly my eating disorder got worse, and an old eating disorder I hadn’t had in years got kicked into high gear. I am fat now, and I am more than okay with that. It took around two years to come to terms with that, and it’s only been the last few months where I finally felt comfortable calling myself fat. My body will never be the way it was before. There’s stretch marks and fat where there wasn’t before. I’m no longer the thin 18 year old. But that’s what life is. I’m 20, and I’m on testosterone, and I have tattoos and piercings and stretched ears and dyed hair. I’m never going to look like I did before and that’s okay. I like that. I’m a lot happier with my body now. Unlearning internalized fatphobia was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I’ve made a lot of progress and I’m really proud of it. It’s still something I struggle with, but now I can say I’m “recovering” from my eating disorders, and that itself gives me hope.

I realized I was transgender when I was 14. There were signs before then, but as I said at the beginning of this, my memory is pretty bad. Since my mother didn’t know about this, I can only guess the timeline based off of my Snapchat memories and pictures I took at the time. I don’t remember exactly what was the final nudge, but one thing that sticks out is when my mother told me to be careful with how I styled my short hair, because I could “look like a boy”. I admitted to myself that that’s what I wanted. I did want to look like a boy. There were a lot of other complicated feelings that I honestly don’t remember. I told my best friend at the time, and she was accepting. I told my sister a few days later, and as always, she loved me and accepted me. I first identified as genderfluid, but that lasted maybe a day. I realized nonbinary fit better. I wasn’t a girl, I was neutral. I wanted to look androgynous and slightly masculine. I used they/them pronouns with close friends for a few years, and I went by Noah. At 17, not long before I turned 18, I told my best friend I am trans guy and my pronouns are he/they. I had known I wanted top surgery and hormone replacement therapy for years, and I knew I could still do that using they/them pronouns and being nonbinary, but one day I just looked in the mirror and it all clicked together. I’m a trans guy. I still don’t connect with “trans man”, and if we were to get into it fully, I am still nonbinary. But “trans guy” is the best descriptor for me right now. In late August of 2021 I told my best friend that I really liked the name Ezra, and had been thinking about it for months. I finally told my partner (over text, because I was terrified), and then came out to everyone on my Instagram and Snapchat, which had my friends and old classmates, as Ezra and using he/they pronouns. I try not to focus on the fact that I can’t completely remember how I learned I was transgender, and choose to focus on the fact that transitioning brings me a lot of euphoria and has turned my life upside down in the best way possible. I am so much more comfortable in my body, my life, my appearance, my relationships, and just how I move throughout the world. I am, for the first time, happy and content in myself. Still need top surgery, but you know, money.

I came out to my mother via text in late February of 2022. My grandmother said it was the same as if my mother texted me telling me that she has cancer. So you can imagine this was well received. I endured a week of phone calls and texts where my mother was crying, saying she wanted to kill herself. She told me she called a suicide hotline the night I came out to her. She was texting my sister constantly asking where she went wrong. She told me several times she “knew in her heart” that I wasn’t trans, that this was just the current trend. She was angry that I had never told her this before. There was a Zoom call with her and my sister where she spent most of the time crying and denying the homophobia and transphobia I was brought up on. My partner was out of frame holding my hand. The call ended with me breaking down in tears, telling her that I’m fighting to be heard here and that I’m sure about this and have been dealing with it for years and this is something that I never brought up because I knew this is how she would react. Eventually the call ended, and the next morning I had a therapy appointment. We talked about everything, and I decided I needed space from my mother. I told her that, and I have not talked to her since in 551 days. There has been one message from her since then, where she did not apologize, and said she loved me amongst a bunch of religious bullshit. My grandmother berated me over text and when I told her I was not going to have a conversation about it, she berated me more. I haven’t talked to her since then too, despite her texting me twice since then saying where Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner would be held if I was “still interested in family” and asking if I had “divorced myself completely from my family” which is truly a hilarious sentence. I, of course, never answered. My dad shared his opinion, which was based on misleading comments my mother told him. When I told him the truth, he never responded. Haven’t talked to him since, either. I am still very close with my sister, but it makes things hard when family gets brought up. I do my best with placing boundaries and being honest, and she is endlessly supportive and loving, just like she has been all my life. I’m doing a lot better. Going no contact was the best thing I could have done. In the week after I came out, both my mother and grandmother said horrible things about me to my sister and to her roommate. Things I don’t want to repeat here. Things like how I’m not her child anymore. I never got an apology from anyone. I think they expect me to come back and pretend everything is normal. I have a lot of family nightmares, and I’m working through all of this extensively in therapy. I’ll probably talk about all this more another time. But it’s still hard to think about. I was 18 when I stopped talking to most of my family.

Not long after my hives disappeared in 2022, and pretty soon after cutting contact with my parents and grandmother, I got kidney stones. That was a bad night. My partner had to drive me to the ER at 2am. I don’t have my license, mainly due to the issues I was facing in high school. All my energy went to staying in school and staying alive. Plus a car accident that gives you a traumatic brain injury and an insane amount of mental health problems is pretty traumatizing and doesn't really make you want to jump behind the wheel. By the time I realized my stomach pain was not my normal stomach pain, was consistently getting worse through the hours, and was in fact an emergency, the kidney stones were almost done passing. Still had to endure medical care professionals who had apparently never met a trans person before and a fun little CT scan. So I lived through that, without support from my parents, and that was tough but it showed me that I was able to live without them. I was 19 at the time.

The therapist I’m seeing now is, funnily enough, the same therapist my mother stopped me from seeing when I realized I was in an abusive household. After moving I found her on LinkedIn and contacted her. I’ve been seeing her for almost two years. She’s a great therapist and the progress we have made is immeasurable.

Another health issue that came up, around seven or eight months ago at this point, was photophobia. Photophobia is a sensitivity to light. It’s a symptom of a bigger condition. You guessed it, I have no idea what the condition is. This isn’t really the fault of doctors, though, my primary care physician said there was nothing physically wrong with my eyes and referred me to an opthamologist, but that’s about when the money ran out so I still haven’t been able to figure it out. All I know is that it is very painful. My left eye is worse than the right for some reason. Photophobia burns, it feels like someone squirt hand sanitizer in my eyes. My eyes get red and watery, tears start flowing and I physically can’t open my eyes without immense pain. The only way I have been able to help it is to turn off all the lights and close the blinds, lay down for a bit with my eyes closed, after maybe 30 minutes open them, and then slowly introduce lights back into the room. It’s a whole ordeal.

I think those are all of my health conditions, and they are very hard to deal with. This in addition to my mental health conditions make living very difficult, let alone living well. I don’t leave the house much, mainly due to my anxiety and my eyes. I’ve had the same friends since high school and I love them dearly but I’ve really only made one in my adult life, and I’m 20 now. Because I can’t drive I rely on others to get me where I need to go, unless there’s an easy bus route. I wasn’t able to take the bus for the first year and a half when I moved out due to my anxiety. Even the thought of it sent me into panic attacks. I can’t be out in the heat for too long, which sucks because I live in the Phoenix, Arizona area. I have bad heat intolerance, so bad that any time I leave the house I have to bring an ice pack. I used to not be able to walk long distances for a while without insane leg cramps (something that testosterone effects, apparently) but thankfully that’s gone away. I’m very much not physically or mentally healthy, despite how often I try to treat these issues.

I did have a job, though. Only the one, after the money ran out. March 11, 2023 to May 11, 2023. Doing exactly two months was an accident. I worked as a retail recovery associate for J.C. Penney. It was hell. I was having panic attacks almost daily, dissociating during the whole shift. My stomach issues were a hundred times worse, and the photophobia was acting up daily. I had to leave work because of it twice. I couldn’t see and it looked like I was sobbing while hanging up clothes. I liked the job, the work, some of my coworkers, and the customers. Repetitive and easy. I liked talking to new people daily. Misgendering was a huge problem, despite me wearing a pronoun pin. It doesn’t help that I was placed in the women’s clothing section because that’s where I was needed. Coworkers would misgender me constantly, one even found out my deadname somehow and wrote it down on a paper we were using for the dressing rooms. The main issues were with the managers. Every time I tried to call out because of my medical issues or just straight up fear and anxiety, no one would answer the phone, no matter how many times I called. I would leave a message on the manager’s phone, because that’s all I could do. Apparently they weren’t getting these messages, and thought I was always a no call no show. They didn’t tell me this until the day before I quit. They were deducting points from me without my knowledge and I reached a point where so many points were taken that I would be fired. I had to leave that day because of my eyes, but the second I left the store I had a panic attack. I called and quit the next day. No one answered the phone, so I had to leave a message. I still don’t know if they actually got that message.

Since then I’ve been unemployed. I’ve been to a lot of interviews, but no luck. My partner of almost three years has been completely financially supporting me. Thankfully my insurance covers my psychotherapy and EMDR appointments I have weekly, but my partner pays for my testosterone (about $50 a month) and my prescription medications (about $20 a month). They pay all of our rent and have been for months. They pay for our food and for the food for our pet bunny, Bunjamin Buttons. As you can imagine, that causes a lot of pressure on them and some issues for us. We’re working through it a lot right now, but that’s a story for another time.

I think you’re pretty much caught up! This is the first time I’ve ever written (most) everything down, and clearly it’s not in chronological order. Hopefully it was understandable. But that’s what I’m working with! At 20 years old I’ve lived the life of 10 men, it feels like. And I have the brain injury, OCD, PTSD, major depressive disorder, social anxiety, eating disorders, and depersonalization/derealization diagnoses to show for it. Fuck.

#life story #queer #transgender #trans guy #personal writing #writing #nonfiction writing #nonfiction #personal essay

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glx-o · 1 year

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First Ever Entry

Hello Tumblr,

I’m going through some things at the minute. Well, for a while in one form or another. It has felt like a steady stream of things and perhaps sharing it and getting it off my chest will help to alleviate the pressure that I’m feeling ahead of starting my new job.

My situation probably isn’t much of a big deal in the grand scheme of things and is a mixture of done-to and self-inflicted to a degree. If that makes any sense at all. Perhaps it might be better described as an attempt at self-medication.

I was let go from my previous job back in January and have been stuck at home since. My new job starts on Tuesday 2nd May at 8am, but I have now been waiting for a little over a month in a state of limbo. I will be attending training to gain my PCV licence and going on to be a bus driver. The wait is due to their Academy having regular intakes, 2nd May being their next one.

So I am partly anxious, nervous, excited, to get started. It’s the most ‘grown-up’ job I’ll have had, and the highest wage. I’ve struggled my whole life with my purpose and direction, and as a result never been able to achieve any real career or financial success. All of this has most definitely both tied into and been a result of my mental health. I kick myself constantly for the time that I have wasted as I just recently turned 37 and feel like I have nothing to show for it.

Despite that, I have been blessed with two children. (My first draft of that line was ‘blessed with an incredible pair of…’) The marriage they spawned from is now virtually non-existent. I had intended to leave back in November, and she was made aware as I looked for jobs closer to my parents, who live 4 hours south of where I now live. But being so far away from the kids -and it being the run-up to Christmas- I really struggled to pull the plug.

Instead, I just rolled on miserably as we lived our separate lives in our miserable, decaying 2-bed flat.

Prior to the attempted November move, knowing the relationship was dead, and spiralling downward, I decided that I needed to start making decisions for myself. To live my life. No one was going to do it for me. That led to me trying to establish relationships and meet new people. I did this by signing up to a pen pal website. In doing so, I met a woman and we promptly fell in love. In a way that I have truly never felt before, or so strongly.

Her situation was just as awkward -more so- than mine and to top it off she was, at that time, based in Alabama. Our whirlwind relationship had me flying into Birmingham slightly less than two months after meeting her and we spent an incredible week together.

Things were great upon returning to the UK until her situation began to worsen for her. She was to move to the UK and it was getting close and she became increasingly stressed about it and her situation upon arriving. Things were said that splintered the relationship and I was lower than I had ever been. I hadn’t felt despair like it.

To deal with it, I forced myself to put her out of my mind and sought more people to talk with to distract myself. And once again fell for someone.

To Be Continued…? This is giving me brainache so I’ll leave it here for now. The above is only the basic details and I’m looking to dig deeper with every step.

#mental health #mentally drained #diary entry #relationship #my purpose #help #share

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

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𝐂𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Druig x (female) Eternal!Reader

Summary: unspoken feelings finally bubble over at the end of the world

Warnings: big time angst, finally admitting feelings, smut, penetrative sex (m+f), fingering, oral (f receiving), slight body worship/praise, slight marking/biting, minors DNI. Eternals spoilers.

A/N: happy Friday everyone! Finally I get round to posting this, I really hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your thoughts. Also the vibes I was going for for this oneshot is partly inspired by Barry Keoghan's sex scene in his film Mammal. Here's a gif set of what I was picturing. Basically just him really watching reader as he pleasures her, gauging her reactions. Anyway yeah, hope you like it! Enjoy the gif set and enjoy the fic😌

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. If you click ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

You and Druig had a rich history together. A rich history that spanned over centuries. Ironically, much of said history mostly consisted of you two being apart. When the Eternals initially parted ways you and Druig were no different, each going off in your own direction. You had envied Sersi and Ikaris, they’re love on full display for everyone to see, going off together even when you all initially split.

There always felt like there was this unspoken thing between you and Druig. You were naturally drawn to each other, constantly brushing finger tips during meetings, the first to run to each other’s side during a fight, longing gazes lingering when the other wasn’t looking. You were his comfort when he was forced to watch the atrocities committed by humans but forbidden from interfering. You were the only one he would actually speak to, let his guard down with. And he was your sanctuary when the fight hadn't gone your way, human lives lost to the deviants and you couldn't help but blame yourself.

You spent centuries waiting for the next step in your relationship to be taken, for that lingering gaze to be acted upon, for the brushing of finger tips to turn into finger tips dragging over each other’s skin. And yet when the time came, the time for you go your separate ways, that unspoken thing remained as it always had: unspoken.

Your views on how to spend your eternal lives didn’t line up, meaning you couldn't spend eternity together, no matter the status of your relationship. You wanted to live your life to the fullest potential, traveling the world, learning, earning multiple degrees in multiple studies, dabbling in all kinds of different jobs. After all, you had the time. Druig, however, simply wanted to retreat, become a recluse, living a simple, uninterrupted life far away from the main hub of humanity. And so you went on, leaving him behind, travelling the world, trying your hardest not to look back upon him, and failing every time.

The heartbreak caused by your separation almost broke you. It took you literal decades before you could think of him without that brutal twang of pain shooting through your chest. Despite this pain, you brought yourself to check in on him every hundred years or so. You never got too close though, never made your presence known to him. You’d simply observe from a distance, make sure he was doing okay, and then leave. You continued to do this multiple times despite the way your chest threatened to cave in on itself, especially when you saw him perfectly content in the life he’d built for himself, living in peace in the Amazon, surround by plenty of beautiful men and woman to entertain him. Despite attempting to live your life to the fullest you’d never found anywhere to settle, or anyone to settle with. You were constantly on the move, ensuring you never stayed anywhere long enough for people to become suspicious of your unchanging, unaging appearance.

This was why you weren’t particularly phased about having your current life upended when Sersi, Ikaris, Sprite, Kingo, Gilgamesh and Thena arrived on your doorstep telling you that the band needed to get back together, to save the entire planet no less. You’d of course agreed to help, having learned to love humanity despite being unable to settle completely amongst them. The next stop was Druig, the key to your current plan of putting Tiamut to sleep before he could wake and destroy the planet. Selfishly your only real fear was being face-to-face with him again.

Reuniting with him in the Amazonian forest had almost broke you all over again. Just seeing him hit you like a tonne of bricks, straight to the chest. Of course he acted as cool and nonchalant as ever. He greeted you as he greeted the rest of the Eternals, giving no indication of anything particularly special about you or your relationship to him. His indifference to you hurts more than you care to admit.

And yet you can't help but feel as though his gaze lingers on you longer than normal, that his eyes keep shifting over to you whilst Ikaris and Sersi explain the Timaut situation. Thankfully the gravity of the impending apocalypse overshadowed any personal drama that was or was not passing between you and Druig.

And so now here you all were, together on the Domo, the day before doomsday, preparing for what could potentially be the end of the world. You guys had established your plan, talked strategy, and anticipated almost every possible outcome for tomorrow’s emergence. So, with that, Sersi suggested that everyone go get a good night of rest before the following day. You head to your room, one last glance thrown back at Druig, who’s eyes are trained on the floor, as if deliberately trying to avoid looking at you.

You sit alone in your old room on the Domo. Left in complete silence with nothing but your thoughts for company your mind quickly starts to wonder. Tonight may well just be your last night alive, here, on this planet, with these memories, and these feelings...

Your breath starts to quicken, a panic setting in your chest. There was literally no time left, if you were going to tell Druig how you felt, it had to be now. You had to take that chance. You take a second to regain control of your breathing before spinning around to head out your room.

Except you find all breath stuck in your throat when you see Druig standing in your doorway.

He stands there silently, his hands clasped in front of him, his face absolutely unreadable. All you can do is stare at him, wide-eyed, frozen, like a deer in headlights. It seems as if an eternity passes, as though a thousand lifetimes go by, Tiamut could’ve been born several times over already for all you knew. All you knew right now was in this moment with Druig, nothing else seemed to exist outside this bubble of you two staring at each other as if the other might cease to exist if you tore your eyes away, even if just for a moment.

As if that bubble around you was growing smaller, pushing you together, you both found yourselves moving forward, moving towards the other, until you finally stood face-to-face.

A thousand emotions pass between the two of you without a single word being spoken out-loud. You’re standing so close that your breath is mixing, your lips barely an inch apart as you continue to stare silently at each other. You feel your breathe hitch again and a tear slide down your cheek as centuries of feelings come flooding to the surface.

“Druig...” you squeak, your voice breaking.

“I know. I know, my love, I know” he whispers, his own eyes filling with tears.

Your eyebrows knit together, unsure if he can really know precisely all the emotions flowing through you.

“Y/n. My beautiful, beautiful y/n” he breathes, raising his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t have left this so late, left it to the end of the world to finally tell you. All those times you came to check on me, I should've just grabbed you and kept you. But I was too afraid, I wanted you to live your life free of being burdened with me."

"What?" you whisper. "You knew about that? How? I made sure to never get too close."

"My love I can sense your presence, your mind, from miles away" a small smile graces his face. "And don't think that I didn't do the same."

He then gently grabs your face between his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, wiping the tears as they continue to fall from your eyes. He pauses for a brief moment, as if planning his next words carefully. Druig, usually so quick and witty, stood here in silence, almost at a loss for words. Almost.

“Y/n" he finally speaks, his face still barely an inch away from yours. "I have loved you for centuries. Ever since we first set foot on this planet my heart has belonged to you and you alone. I am sorry I left you alone in this world. Every single day we were apart it pained me, tore me apart, and yet I knew I needed to let you live your life. To be free to do as you pleased in this world. But know that my heart travelled this world with you, it was always with you.”

A small sob leaves your throat as you take in all his words.

Druig mutters a soft and reassuring ‘shhhh’ as he moves forward slightly to place his forehead on yours, his eyes closing. You keep your eyes trained on him, still fearing that he would somehow disappear if you shut your eyes, that this fantasy would fall apart if you weren’t careful.

“On what could be our last night on this planet, will you have me, my love? Will you let me have you?” Druig whispers, his voice wavering the slightest bit.

You answer simply by lifting your head slightly to finally, finally place your lips on his. The kiss is slow and passionate, tasting sweet and salty from the sting of your tears, bittersweet, as was the entire situation. You try to convey all your own emotions into the kiss, letting him know you felt exactly the same. That your heart was his as much as his was yours. You had travelled the world but your heart had never left the Amazonian forest, not really.

“I’m yours, Druig. I’ve always been yours” you whisper into his mouth. He moans softly in response, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss, your tongues finally tasting each other for the first time. You take your hands to run through his hair, gripping tightly and pulling gently, afraid to let go of him even for a second. He moves his hands from your face to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, your hips colliding. Your bodies lock together, fitting together like the perfect puzzle piece, almost as if you were both designed to simply exist in each others' arms.

Druig squeezes your hips gently and gives you a slight push back, signalling for you to walk backwards. Your lips never part as you allow Druig to guide you until you feel the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Druig lifts his head, looking down at you. "Lie back, my love, let me show you just how much I love you. Let me worship you."

You feel almost embarrassed by his statement, but the intensity in his eyes, the lust, the love, makes you feel more empowered than you think you've ever felt.

You climb onto the bed and lie back, waiting for Druig’s next move. He keeps his eyes on you as he takes off his leather jacket and his black t-shirt. He's then swift to climb onto the bottom of the bed, climbing up and over your body until his mouth is finally back on yours. The kiss is slow and deep, the both of you savouring the taste of the other. Your head is still spinning, your heart overflowing. Disbelief clinging to you so strongly, to think that he had actually felt the same way about you, all this time. All this time wasted, and now you potentially only had night.

“Are, are you sure about this?” you breathe, the disbelief becoming almost overwhelming.

He looks down at you, almost incredulous that you would even ask such a thing.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in all my years on this Earth” he reassures you. “My darling, this is has been centuries in the making” he says as he nuzzles your nose with his own gently before placing another kiss to your lips. This kiss is quick and simple as his lips then move across your jaw, down to your neck. When he reaches your neck his quick pecks turn into open-mouth kisses, interchanged with the gentle nibbling of your skin. You can feel the bruises he's sucking into your skin, and all you can do is moan in response, just revelling in the feelings of his lips, his touch on your skin. His mouth travels back up your neck to the shell of your ear. A shiver runs through your entire body as his lips tickle the outside of your ear.

"If we die tomorrow at least it will be with my mark on your skin" he breathes into your ear. Your hands involuntarily grip his back tighter, as if your hold on him can somehow stop the events of tomorrow.

Druig moves to hold himself up slightly, using his hands to gently remove your jumper, followed by your bra, leaving your upper body exposed to him. His eyes trail down your body, completely drinking in the sight of you. He doesn't need to say anything, you can see it all in his eyes: he looks at you as if you are the most precious and most beautiful work of art he has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. He leans down again and his lips melt into yours. Your mouths moving together as if they had known each other for years.

You feel Druig hands slide down your body, the light touch causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of your skin. His hands reach the band of your trousers and he dips just his thumps under the fabric, tracing light circles on your hip bones. You can feel how wet you are already, literal centuries of desire dripping from your aching cunt. You whimper into Druig's mouth, his hands so close and yet so far from where you want him. You buck your hips up into his hands, hoping he gets the hint. Which, of course, he does.

Druig grabs the hem of your trousers and underwear, pulling them both off in one motion, finally revealing your entire self to him.

"My gods, you truly are divine" he states slowly, emphasising each individual word as his gaze wonders up and down your body.

His words send a wave of emotions through your body that goes straight to your heart, and to your pussy. He leans down on one arm to kiss you again. You feel his other hand travel down your side again until he reaches your hip. From your hip his fingers trace inwards, towards the centre of your body. His hand then finally, finally, moves lower until you feel his fingers brush through your folds. You both moan as he makes contact with your aching centre. He swipes his fingers up and down your slit a few times, collecting the slick there, before you feel two of his fingers land on your clit. A short gasp leaves your mouth as he begins to circle your clit, applying just the lightest pressure. You toss your head back slightly as the pleasure slowly starts to build within your body. Druig simply remains above you, taking in the look of your face as you squirm beneath him. He watches you, gauging your reactions to his movements.

Your hips are rocking in time to his motions, your hips in sync with his circles. His fingers then move away from your clit, dropping lower, until you feel them pushing at your entrance. A deep sigh escapes you as he slowly sinks his two fingers inside you. A small smirk appears on his face as he acknowledges the pure bliss that spreads across your own face. After gently pumping you a few times Druig then shifts his fingers inside you so that he can position his thumb to rub back on your clit again.

You're a withering mess beneath him, your hips again bucking up into his hands, urging him to go as deep as he can, using your body to tell him harder, faster. To which he obliges. He speeds up his actions, all the while never taking his eyes off your face. His two fingers pump deeper into you, his thumb circling faster on your clit, applying slightly more pressure. The pleasure starts to build even more, the wave feeling as though it's coming from all over your body, centring itself in your core. It takes little time for that wave to finally crash and your orgasm to wash over you as Druig continues to pump his fingers into you, letting you ride out your orgasm in its entirety. As you cum Druig places his lips on your open mouth, swallowing the sounds you make.

Your body is shaking slightly when Druig finally removes his fingers, bringing his them up to his mouth. He locks eyes with you as he sucks his own fingers into his mouth, sucking the flavour of you off them.

"Mmm you even taste divine, my love" he groans. You're speechless as he slides down your body, kissing a trail from your collarbones down to your breasts. Druig takes the time to worship each of your breasts, kissing and sucking at the skin surrounding your nipple before pulling the bud into his mouth, nipping ever so gently.

"Druig!" you moan breathily. His name is a prayer on your lips, your moans a song to his ears. The sounds you make go straight to his cock as it sits painfully hard in his jeans. You run your hands through his hair as he continues his movements downwards until his mouth finally reaches your centre. He places a small kiss at the top of your folds. You lift your head to look down at him just in time to see him look back up at you in the same moment he places his tongue on your clit. He flattens his tongue, applying a small amount of pressure. Your head once again is thrown back, your eyes squeezed shut as all your focus goes to the man between your legs. You begin to rock your hips again, pushing against Druig's mouth. A guttural moan sounds from Druig, clearly taking satisfaction from the pure pleasure he was providing you. The moan vibrates through his mouth and onto your clit, eliciting another moan from you in response.

Druig then moves his tongue even lower, licking at your entrance. You feel his tongue push inside you. But it's not enough, you want, need, more friction. Druig responds by pushing forward so his nose is rubbing you clit. And so with that he continues to flick his tongue in and out of you all the while rubbing you with his nose. You can barley contain the sounds you make as he does so, almost sure everyone else on the Domo would be able to hear you. But you didn't care. This was your first and potentially final night with the man you had loved for centuries, you were going to savour it.

Druig once again switches tactics and moves himself to place his tongue against your clit, this time licking and sucking at it. You were already close and the new sensations rolling through your body bring you right back to the precipice of climax. Druig's name once again leaves your lips as you tighten your fists in his hair and cum for the second time, your body convulsing, arching upwards. Druig again ensures you ride out the entirety of your orgasm by continuing to lap at you.

You feel yourself becoming almost too sensitive and you involuntarily push Druig's head away slightly. He takes this opportunity to sit up, wipe his face on his inner bicep, and crawl up you once again. He gives you no time to catch your breath before his lips are crashing into yours, his tongue invading your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. This kiss feels different all of a sudden. It's desperate and messy, as though neither of you could ever get enough of this. Your bodies start to move together, you can feel his aching cock straining through his jeans as he rocks against you. Your hands move from his hair, running down his torso, scratching with your nails as you do so. You wanted to leave your own mark on him. When your hands finally reach the hem of his jeans you waste no time popping the button and unzipping them. You can feel Druig groan against your lips as you slip your hands under his pants and finally free his painfully hard cock. You grab him in your hand, collecting the precum leaking from his tip. You begin to pump him in your hand, squeezing ever so slightly, and twisting your hand around him as you do. You feel his breathing get heavier as your lips continue to collide. Druig starts fucking himself into your hand, clearly desperate for more friction. You're about to oblige by speeding up your movements when he suddenly grabs your wrist, stopping your motions. He stops kissing you for moment, squeezing his eyes shut, his mouth hanging open.

"Wait" he pants heavily, struggling to maintain this level of control when he's so clearly desperate for his own release. "I want us to finish together" he breathes. "I want to finish inside you" his voice barely a whisper.

You place your forehead on his and nod your head gently. You place another kiss to his lips as you move your hands off his cock and cling onto his back instead. He grabs his dick in one hand and guides it down to your cunt, rubbing the tip up and down your folds a few times. Then, finally, you feel him push his tip into your entrance. Your fingers curl, your nails digging into his back as he slowly sinks inside you, all the way to the hilt. Simultaneous sighs leaves your lips as Druig starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back inside. He does these long languid thrusts for a short while before slowly beginning to pick up the pace. Your body rocks against him, meeting thrust for thrust. Again it seems as though your bodies were made for each other, slotting against each other perfectly, your arched back curving perfectly against his hunched chest, your breasts pressed flush against bare chest as you hold each other as close as physically possible.

Your foreheads still touching, your breath mixing, your eyes locked together, your bodies moving to the same rhythm. This moment feels infinite, like all that exists, all that ever will exist, is just you and Druig, here and now, together at last.

And yet in the back of your mind you know it isn't. You know tomorrow will come around. Your thoughts overwhelm you and you feel a lone tear roll down your cheek. Druig notices and leans down to softly kiss the tear away. A thousand unspoken words pass between you, a thousand opportunities missed. But none of that mattered now.

I love you, and I am grateful for this moment, no matter how brief you open your mind to him, showing him everything, every emotion as it passes through you mind, through your body, you hope he feels just how much you love him. You hear a soft moan mixed with a small sob leave Druig and you know he's heard you.

"I love you, I love you" he pants as he continues to thrust into you, faster now, his pace getting sloppy, the desperation for release building.

"You are my everything" he whispers. Another tear slips down your cheek at his words.

You can feel your climax once again building in the pit of your stomach, the pleasure pooling in your centre. You dig your nails deeper into his shoulders as your third orgasm racks through your body, your toes curling, a loud gasp leaving your open mouth as you do so. Your clenching pussy and convulsing body finally push Druig over the edge right there with you, his hips stuttering and stilling, spilling inside you as his grunts fill your ears. The two of remain there for a minute, regaining your breath, looking into each other's eyes, again savouring this precious moment.

Eventually Druig silently pulls out of you, placing another chaste kiss on your lips. You whimper at his absence, the feeling of being suddenly empty. Druig walks to the bathroom and you hear the tap run quietly. He returns swiftly with a warm, damp cloth. Druig wipes you down gently, caressing and stroking your sensitive body softly, placing tender kisses on your skin as he goes. Once done with you he cleans himself off before throwing the cloth to the side. He climbs into the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest, enveloping you in his arms. No more words needed to be exchanged tonight. You simply needed to remain in his arms for the remainder of eternity, no matter how short that remainder may be.

And so the two of you eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms. Your naked bodies tangled in an impossible knot, skin touching wherever physically possible, no space left between you. Whatever tomorrow held, you would face it together. And should you die in the effort, you would do that together too.

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Masterlist

A/N: this is the first time I’ve ever tried to write anything angsty so I hope it was okay. This also took me a horrendously long time to get done so firstly, sorry about the wait, and secondly, I really hope it was worth the wait!

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skylarsblue · 2 years

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Random Slasher Headcanons

Michael Myers

Michael cannot stand peanut butter. He likes the smell of peanuts & peanut butter, but, the consistency is something he won’t allow. It sticks to his hands & the roof of his mouth and it makes him genuinely angry. He doesn’t mind candy with chunks of peanuts, but no peanut butter. None. Keep it away from him.

THIS MAN IS A DRUMMER AT HIS HEART. Listen, if he wasn’t a stabby stabby murder man, he’d be a fucking drummer. It would be a fantastic way to get out his anger. Now, he’d certainly break his sticks constantly, but he’s a metal drummer. You can pry this from my cold, pale hands.

Michael can’t read. Not like he lacks the ability, but he cannot stand to sit down and read a book. Not only does it always make him tired, but most books have too small of text. Large paragraphs make his head hurt. Reading itself just feels like a boring hassle. He perceives visual and audible stuff a lot easier than reading it. This means he always ignores written instructions.

Michael is not a good cook. We know this. HOWEVER. He can do sandwiches, boxed mac & cheese, and grilled cheese. And he makes a pretty damn good grilled cheese. Man loves his cheddar.

Jason Voorhees

Woodcarving! Jason does woodcarving. He gets bored out there, alone in the forest, no technology. Even if he has his rounds to do, he gets bored in leisure time. He’s gained a few hobbies but woodcarving is his favorite. He makes little sculptures for his mother. She seems to like the bird ones the best.

My man is super suited for the wild. He makes all his own traps! Even the bear traps he uses are tampered with, just so they hold people better. He’s really good at figuring out how to hide the traps as well. Jason is a hunter for sure.

Jason Voorhees is red-yellow colorblind. Why do I say this? Because I can, damnit. Does this affect anything? No, but it does mean he likes cooler tones a lot more. Which is why he dresses in blue, green, etc. frequently. Reds, oranges, and yellows tend to just look like dull greys & browns. Pamela also had this! It’s why her favorite color was baby blue.

Jason’s fear of water kind of fluctuates. It’s a PTSD thing. Some days, he can handle water fine. It’s not something he prefers but it doesn’t freak him out as much. At worst it makes him a bit uncomfortable. On other days though, he gets really scared by even the memories of being near water. It’s made worse by flashbacks or nightmares. It all depends on the day and recent events.

Brahms Heelshire

We all know Brahms is a whore for sugary sweet treats, but, on the other side of the coin? Mans cannot do spice. To any degree. He thinks too much pepper is spicy, and he will complain. So, if you like actual flavor in your food, I’m sorry. Either you’ll have to make him something separate or you’ll need to dial it back a lot.

Even in his childish moments, Brahms has a very wide & eccentric vocabulary. He’s dabbled in poetry & short stories before. He especially gets into the writing mood after reading a good book. Now, he’d rather die than show anyone what he’s written, but it’s actually pretty good. If he dabbled in it more he could probably pass as a well seasoned author. He gets a bit ramble-y sometimes, though.

Mans is an artist. You cannot tell me he hasn’t dabbled in water color, especially when his parents put him in the walls. I don’t think his parents would be too into the idea of him having a messy hobby. But, he’s a creative boy. Even if he prefers writing. Show him Bob Ross, he’ll be so relaxed.

Did someone say chronic back pain? He naturally bends down when roaming through the walls & he sits hunched over. Coming from a person who hunches over everything, back pain. Mans also has poppy joints. Like, every time he turns or moves something pops. Mostly his knees and back. His joints like doing a firecracker impression whenever he moves.

Bo Sinclair

I’ve mentioned this in his Fluff Alphabet, but I think Bo was taught to play the piano. Now that he’s older, the piano they own is all dusty in the attic, out of tune. When he was younger though, it was how he got out a lot of his emotions without actually bothering anyone. It was one of the few things he got praise for too. The fact he could make elegant melodies without needing notes on a sheet to guide him? Amazing! And no one notices the fact he was five seconds from a mental breakdown. …now he just, drinks a lot of beer and goes through at least three cigarettes a day.

Bo has very sensitive hearing. You’d think with all the music he blared as a teen or the shots from his shotgun would’ve harmed his eardrums, but no, oddly enough. Mister Sinclair can identify noises from like several yards away. It’s part of the reason hiding from him is so hard. He will hear you breathe.

At some point, since all three boys were put in foster care, Bo had to get a lot of teen jobs to work up as much money as possible. Not only to cover things he and his brother would need when they turned eighteen, but so he could also adopt Lester. Lester is, at least, 4+ years younger than Bo & Vincent. Bo knew that when he and Vincent were able to be independent, the state would still be in control of where Lester was. Bo may be an asshole, but he’ll never leave one of his brothers alone. So as soon as he turned eighteen, he insisted on being Lester’s legal guardian. Worked out, thankfully.

Some of y’all got it twisted thinking Vincent is the high maintenance brother. (I’m kidding, he is) Bo, though he’d never admit it, has an extensive self care routine. He hides it, of course. He doesn’t need people thinking he’s soft! Bo’s a bit vain, it’s how he counteracts a lot of his insecurities. He’s the pretty brother, it’s what he gets the most praise for, so he needs to stay the pretty brother. He doesn’t know what else he’d have otherwise.

Lester Sinclair

I know he has a dirty job, but I think it’d be absolutely hilarious if his home was actually pretty clean. Sure, it’d be decorated in animal skins & bones, but it’s not messy clutter. I think that him having the cleaner home in comparison to Bo & Vincent would be absolutely HILARIOUS.

I think he's actually a pretty decent cook. Lester makes godly fried chicken. He’s not necessarily a chef that’s good in all fields, but what he cooks he’s good at. These are things like omelets, fried chicken, gumbo, and cod fish. However, he has a bad habit of making everything spicy.

Despite appearing the most scrawny out of his brothers, he’s got a decent amount of strength. It just doesn’t show much on his body. He has a fast metabolism. It’s hard to put on muscle when you struggle to put on weight, especially when sometimes he forgets to eat, so he’s not doing well there either. Still, he can manage some heavy lifting fairly well. But what’s most surprising is his grip strength. He avoids handshakes because of it. Bo has told him about a million times that Lester could break someone’s fingers with his hands. Helps when he’s opening jars though.

Lester is a natural snuggler, because I said so. When he falls asleep he naturally hugs whatever is closest. Sometimes that’s a pillow, sometimes it’s Jonesy, and when he was younger it was Bo’s arm. Now, if he tries to sleep without something to hug, his arms will just be curled up to his chest all awkwardly. On top of that, if you put something near him when he’s asleep, he will eventually end up hugging it. Once he has it, it stays there until he wakes up.

Vincent Sinclair

Did someone say BACK PROBLEMS?! We all know the infamous “shrimp” pose done by millions of artist, and Vincent is no exception to this. He sits and hunches in the most awkward positions while working. Their back pops all the time. Bo hates it.

Vincent’s the doctor in Ambrose. While all three brothers have some first aid knowledge and a concept of human anatomy, Vincent is by far the most well versed. Anytime his brothers get hurt or sick beyond the point of where they can take care of themselves, they go to Vincent. He’s always ready to help them, even if he may be silently scolding them in his brain.

Vincent’s not the best cook whatsoever, but they manage a pretty decent breakfast. Lester is the best cook out of them all but they all have their specialties. Vincent’s is bacon, eggs, french toast, and pancakes. Anytime Vincent makes french toast, his brother’s come running. They’ll even fight over the last piece. Oh, he also makes great tea.

When they were younger, they had a caffeine addiction. Now he can’t handle it at all. It gives him the jitters and his heart goes all crazy. He also gets a bit sick. This is mostly the result of a bad experience. He drank three energy drinks in twenty minutes and his body did not handle it well, he got super sick. Now they won’t touch the stuff.

Thomas Hewitt

I think Thomas is capable of some speech, but it’s a bit of a struggle because, one, since he never spoke much his vocal chords just aren’t used to speaking. So they kind of hurt when he tries. And two, speech impediment trauma. (I used to have a struggle saying some words in school, for example, and those kids did not let me exist peacefully.)

Sometimes, if he is truly desperate enough for just a moment of quiet. A second where he’s not hearing the commotion of his home, he’ll go out to the little rickety barn they have. If someone, Hoyt, for example, comes out to call him out for being “lazy”, he can easily just act like he’s working. Then as soon as they leave he’ll go back to sitting in quiet. My man needs a break.

Mans loves pie. And I mean he loves pie. Adores it. His favorites are apple, blueberry, and mixed berries. But he’ll eat any kind of pie. Key-lime to pumpkin, he is a whore for pie.

Thomas is allergic to bees, so when they start coming around, he gets freaked out. It’s not like they got the stuff to care for him if he goes into shock from a bee sting. So, if a bee gets too close, this dude is sprinting. It’d be kinda funny to watch this giant running from a bee, but if it could literally kill me, I’d run too.

Bubba Sawyer

Snow White. Bubba is basically snow white. Animals absolutely love him. Everything from chickens, to cats, to bugs. They love him. Even if there was an animal that Bubba has never had experience with before, it’d love Bubba. Bears? Elk? Hawks? They love Bubba. Everyone loves Bubba.

Bubba knows how to square dance. He’s from Texas, they got the boots, they got the want to dance. I imagine they don’t get the chance much, because dancing alone isn’t very fun to him, but if he ever gets a partner to dance with? It’s waltzin’ time!

Something that they can’t do often, but adore doing, is baking. Bubba loves to bake! Their favorite thing to make is pie, muffins, & apple pie. It’s hard to get all the things to make these items, sugar being something he struggles the most to find, but it’s something he prides himself in. Even his brothers praise his baking skills.

Bubba owns dresses, but they can’t wear them very often. Nubbins is probably the most accepting of that part of fashion, even if he still pokes fun here & there. But Drayton & Chop-Top make the most fun of Bubba, to the point it hurts his feelings. But, if both Drayton & Chop-Top are gone, and ideally Nubbins, Bubba will do all his housework in one of his dresses. He likes the flowy ones, with light colors & floral patterns. They get a sense of euphoria from wearing it with an apron overtop. They get euphoric in some outfits with pants too, but dresses are special because they can’t wear them often.

#rob zombie michael myers #michael myers #jason voorhees #brahms heelshire #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt #slasher community #slashers #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #house of wax #halloween #Friday the 13th #the boy 2016

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hanjizung · 3 years

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♡ What Love Is ♡

Han Jisung x Reader.

Word count: 10K

♡ Warnings ♡: Smut; non idol AU, DILF!Jisung, older Jisung, OC (kid), possession kink, marking kink, oral (f), overstimulation, begging, masturbation, shower sex, exhibitionism, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

A/N: Finally the second part to Modern Vintage is here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please let me know what you think of it! ♡

Summer coming closer could mean many things; families spent more time together since children weren’t going to school anymore, couples had more dates and groups of friends went to eat from time to time to catch up. Overall, most places were fuller during summer, especially beaches since the sun was incredibly hot. You knew some people loved to go out in summer, maybe to travel or to visit some relatives.

Even knowing how summer as a customer was, working in the coffee shop during the season was another experience, some days it was too empty, then on the weekends too full and some days you didn’t even have enough time to eat. Adding to the stress of working during this season, but luckily, summer was just about to end and since you decided to take summer classes to fasten your graduation and get your degree sooner, you were almost completely over which meant that you would be able find a better place to work and help Jisung pay the bills.

A smile appeared on your face when you thought of him. The two of you had been together for almost a little over a year now; he stopped working in the coffee shop with you after his best friends from college offered him an opportunity to work with them as a producer in their company, that had been a month after the weekend the two of you spent without Jisu, both of them showed up at his night job, (which you learned, he worked at a nightclub as a DJ and he was really awesome at it) asking him to take a moment and go with them for a talk. The next morning you found him drinking coffee in the kitchen, still thinking of accepting or declining, smiling and kissing you when you encouraged him to take the offer.

Since then, he told Minho and Felix about it, and they congratulated him and told him that he would still get the employee discounts whenever he stopped by to visit them (and you, of course.) The Lee brothers, more than being your bosses, they treated the two of you like good friends and worried about you like they were family. You still remember Felix’s face when he saw you kissing Jisung goodbye while Jisu hugged her dad tightly, a grin on Felix’s lips that made him look like a mischievous cat.

“Didn’t I tell you it would be only a matter of time?” he said, startling both Jisung and you, making you turn to look at him laughing, a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

“Felix, you knew we would end up together since he brought Jisu here” you objected, rolling your eyes playfully. “What kind of witchcraft did you do, hmm? Tell me your secret!” you joked, getting closer to him and hugging him lovingly. He hugged you back and patted your hair as if you were Jisu.

“I have eyes, Y/N. I could see the both of you drooling for each other when you worked the same hours” he explained, his brows raised as he turned from you to Jisung, who just like you had his face painted with a blush.

“Oh” Jisung said, scratching the back of his head with his free arm and laughing awkwardly. “I mean, you’re not wrong, Lix. I liked Y/N since the very first time I saw her mess up a drink” your boyfriend said, winking at you.

“Are you saying that messing drinks is the way to get to your heart, Sungie?” you asked, acting as serious as you could, “because if that’s the case, I won’t let you be in the kitchen when I’m teaching Jeongin how to do the difficult ones” you finished, making both of the men in front of you laugh.

“Ah, he doesn’t mess up as much though, I admit Jisung used to be messier than him. Jeongin’s a good boy, he learns quickly like you, Y/N. I’m glad that we hired him, I feel like the place is fuller since he’s been here” Felix said, crossing his arms over his chest and caressing his invisible beard as he looked at Jeongin who was writing down an order.

He noticed the four pairs of eyes on him and waved to where you were awkwardly. Minho had announced not too long ago that since the coffee shop had been doing better than before now you were short staffed, and since he was planning on giving you a little vacation he made the decision of hiring someone else to help, and that's how you ended up meeting sweet Jeongin, whose cute face contributed to more daily customers as well as Felix's delicious baked desserts.

Since you were the last person hired, it was your job to teach him everything you knew. He had been there for just three weeks now, and he was a little shy just like you were when you first started working there, but as days passed he joined the talented chefs that you had for bosses and started teasing you and Jisung every now and then.

The coffee shop never closed, it was open all the seven days of the week, but when Jisung was offered a new spot with his good friends, you decided to throw a party to celebrate, inviting the Lee's and Jeongin, and of course, Jisu's uncles; Chan and Changbin. You also took the opportunity to invite your ex roommate, who happened to visit you at work and the one who you would constantly text when something interesting happened. Jisung said that since the party would be the first time you'd be meeting his best friends, and since he already knew your roommate that you should invite your best friend from college, so after calling him and asking him if he was free he accepted.

The big important day came, and Jisung dressed with his nicest clothes, putting on that one cologne he knew you loved so much. The party would happen at your department, so when he was ready he announced that he would be rushing to get the missing food before all your guests appeared, leaving you and Jisu to finish getting ready.

You helped her get ready first, dressing her with a beautiful navy blue dress that she adored since the moment she saw it, then you did her hair and told her to draw something to everyone coming to the party while you got ready as well.

When you walked out of the room fully dressed, Jisung and Jeongin's back were turned at you. They were talking on the couch, a movie was playing on the turned on television as they talked without paying any attention to the screen, but the conversation soon died when your boyfriend stood up after hearing footsteps behind him. He stared at you, his mouth hanging and a quiet wow leaving his lips as he moved quickly to embrace you and kiss you, ready to whisper how beautiful you looked and how lucky he was to have you.

"Woah, you look so pretty! You look like a queen, queen Y/N!" Jisu exclaimed, joining her dad and running to hug your legs. Jeongin saw the whole scene, chuckling.

"You look amazing, Y/N. Honestly, if you and Jisung weren't together I would be inviting you for a drink as soon as I saw you" he joked, raising one of his eyebrows making you laugh.

"Guess that's too bad for you then, Jeonginnie, she's all mine" Jisung said, pressing a kiss on your cheek and then leaving your side to sit on the couch again.

Jisu left you to go sit on her dad's lap, and when you were just to sit on the other couch your phone rang, your best friend's photo showing on the screen as you smiled apologetic at the two men in front of you and you walked away to answer.

"Hi, Y/N. I'm in the building, what floor is it?" his voice greeted you. He was always like this, going straight to the point.

"The fifth floor, the door number is 190" you told him, hearing through the line how he walked into the elevator and pressed the buttons. "See you soon" you told each other before hanging up.

You were excited to see him, it wasn't everyday that the two of you got to be at a nice event or even to a party like this, he wasn't a party guy much, and you always went out with your beloved roommate, Chunghee.

You walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and when you were coming back to the living room you heard knocking on the door. Smiling and placing your glass down, you walked excitedly to it and opened with a big smile on your lips, already knowing who it was.

"Seungmin!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him carefully and hugging him tightly. He responded to the hug politely, patting your back two times and then separating his arms from you, a little shy since it was the first time he was in the presence of your boyfriend. You moved away from him to let him step inside, taking his hand in yours and closing the door behind you.

"Jisung, Jisu, Jeongin, I present to you my best friend! Seungmin, you already met Jeongin, and this…" you left Seungmin's side to stand behind Jisung who still had Jisu in his lap, they looked at your friend with the same eyes full of curiosity "... Is my family" you finished, smiling at him, your head tilted to the side as you locked eyes with Jisung for a brief moment before returning your eyes to your best friend.

"It's nice to meet you in person and not just thought pictures" Seungmin greeted, a timid smile on his lips that gained a chuckle from Jisung who responded that it was nice to see him as well, and so you proceeded to sit with Seungmin by your side and start a small conversation with him.

The room fell silent for a few seconds, the TV working as background noise only until a knock on your door and voices sounding from behind it let you know that Felix and Minho had finally arrived. Jisu opened the door, rushing to get there first and throw herself at the first pair of legs that would be in front of her, making Minho laugh as he struggled to hold a box of something in his hands without it falling. Felix rushed to help his brother by freeing him from the kid's grip, taking Jisu in his arms and squishing her playfully.

"Hey, welcome!" Jisung greeted, standing up from the couch along with Jeongin to help the two men with the things they were carrying; a cake and something that looked like it was probably ice cream. One of Felix's new experiments, possibly, but you figured that if he had brought it on that special day, it would be an advanced approved recipe.

"We're so happy to be here, I can't wait to meet Jisung's new bosses. Are they here yet? Are they more handsome than us? Y/N?" Felix asked, lifting Jisu in the air dramatically, making her giggle and turning to you when he was saying the last part, his accusative eyes scanning you.

"They haven't arrived yet, we'll meet them at the same time, Lix" you laughed, standing up yourself and hugging Minho first, then him. He smiled at you, and then noticed Seungmin who was still sitting where you were, his extroverted self wasted no time and he made his way there, dragging you along with him.

"Hello, we haven't been introduced yet, I think? If you've heard nice things about a Lee Felix then that's me, but if all you've heard of him are complaints, then it's not me anymore" he joked, presenting his hand to your best friend who laughed politely at his joke.

"Kim Seungmin, Y/N's friend" he shook Felix's hand and then patted Jisu’s head since she was still in Felix’s arms, offering both of them shy smile along with it. It was so heartwarming to have all your friends and family interacting with each other.

A phone going off distracted you and everyone in the room turned to meet the owner who simply smiled shyly, turning his back and answering. You could hear Jisung’s voice through the introductions of the people who were currently in your house. You watched all of them with a fond smile, but the sudden sensation of an arm wrapping around your waist scared you a little bit, making you turn your face to find your beloved boyfriend who placed a kiss on your cheek, whispering to you that he would be leaving shortly to get his friends.

You nodded and sat next to Minho on the couch, he was on his phone until he noticed you, straightening his back and smiling briefly at you. He asked how you were doing and how you were feeling about Jisung’s new path, you said that you felt happy for him and that your current concern was that you wanted to graduate to help; your conversation with him finished rather quickly, as the door opened and two strange men walked in through the door, the subject of your conversation with Minho staying behind them and closing the door.

“Everyone, they are my friends and now coworkers, Chan and Changbin,” Jisung announced, taking advantage of the silence that reigned on your little home to present his best friends, a intimidating looking man almost his height with a deadly gaze and a slightly taller one, blond guy who was smiling openly and showing his dimples.

Jisung stepped forward, a big smile on his face as his hand took yours and pulled you in front of his friends. You weren’t sure why, but your face started feeling a bit hot and you were a little afraid that if you tried to speak, you would stutter instead of speaking properly. To you it almost felt like you were meeting his parents, your nerves getting the best of you.

“Guys this is Y/N, you already know her a little from what I’ve told you” he laughed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, his cheeks also a rosy color just like yours were.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” the blond one said, offering you his hand for you to take. You did, extending your shaky hand to him and shaking it, then doing the same with Changbin.

Your ray of sunshine boyfriend must’ve felt the awkwardness you were irradiating, since he wasted no time in coming to your rescue and started presenting everyone else to them, except Jisu who left Felix to hug Changbin and tell him to pick her up so she could kiss his cheek. While he was busy with introductions, Seungmin approached you quietly, looking at you with a soft smile.

“You okay?” he asked, bumping your shoulder with his own. You looked at him with questioning eyes that only made him chuckle at you. “You looked like you were very nervous,” he explained.

Closing your eyes, you sighed. “I was! It felt like a meteor hit me, but instead of a space rock, it was reality” you whispered-screamed, looking at your friend with big eyes that soon turned soft when your gaze fell on them. “They seem really nice, though. I’m glad to know that Jisung wasn’t all alone before I met him, you know?”

“You really do love him, Y/N. I’m glad he makes you this happy” Seungmin smiled at you, his voice full of honesty that made you feel like you had the key to happiness in that exact moment.

The rest of the evening passed faster than you would like to admit; your little home was full with the chattering noises from your guests and chill music playing in the background. The dinner went good too, the table was full and it was like a Christmas dinner or similar, the table full and laughter being a constant proof of the nice atmosphere. Any sign of the existing awkward silence created when Chan and Changbin appeared was long gone now, and you learned a little more about them and how they met with Jisung just like they learned how the two of you ended up together, a story told with additions from almost everyone saying that they always knew how hard you were pining for each other.

Chan started telling how he happened to meet both of his friends; he explained that he met Changbin one night at a party, Chan was the dj and Changbin reached to him to ask him how he managed a cut between two song without it being so obvious (Changbin laughed, exclaiming that even if Chan taught him how to do it, he remembered how the first time he heard it he was shocked.)

Then, both of them usually hung out by the library where Chan mentored Changbin, and one day they saw Jisung with a guitar practicing and decided to ask him what he was doing. Since that day, the three of them started getting curious about song producing, and so they decided to give it a try, being that and their first demo songs the start of a beautiful blooming friendship that lead to where they are now.

When Chan mentioned their demo songs, you gave Jisung a side eye that clearly translated to him as ‘you’re gonna have to show me those songs’, a look that didn’t Changbin must’ve also caught since he said that those songs weren’t too good and that ‘it was better for everyone to not listen to them’, now making everyone want to listen to them more.

Later, Felix went to your fridge to take the ice cream he had brought and started serving it to everyone with your help. Little Jisu was over the moon because she was finally going to try one of the secret recipes of ice creams that she saw Felix perfecting at the coffee shop, and so more memories were talked upon all of you, not only about the trio of friends, but also about Seungmin and you being childhood friends, then the Lee brothers motivated by Chan’s story decided to tell how they knew they wanted to open the coffee shop. Jeongin opened up too, talking about how he had a lot of doubt joining his current career, but saying that he knew everything would eventually pay off. The evening contributed to you getting to know everyone a little more.

Almost at 10, Jisu was sleepily sitting on Changbin’s lap, you were surprised to see how much she stayed by his side and how the man didn’t seem to mind being with her, it was a little funny too because he seemed to be so tough on the outside, but really all he allowed to see in the few hours he spent in your house he was a softy, and Jisu really knew how to bring that side out of him. When you noticed the little bubbly girl was asleep, you stood up and walked to where he was, but when he realized that Jisu was comfortably dreaming, he stopped you.

“I’ll take her to her room, where is it?” he asked. You smiled at him as a thanks and guided him there, leaving the noisy living room to Jisu’s dark and silent bedroom.

You turned on the light for Changbin who was right behind you, and you watched him tuck her in the bed so carefully, like he had done it before. Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to ask him.

“Have you put her to bed before?” your voice came a little quiet, careful to not wake Jisu. Changbin hummed, looking at the sleeping angel in front of him and nodded.

“Yeah, when her mom left, Chan and I were all Jisung had, but we couldn’t help him often, and then we were called with an offer in America and we left.” You listened to him while he was staring at Jisu, your mind imagining these three men trying to take care of a baby, sweet scenarios playing in your head of them learning how to change a diaper and getting scared whenever she cried. “Let’s go back,” his voice brought you down to earth, and he waited for you to step out before turning off the light and closing the door behind him, like a gentleman.

Seeing you walking out of Jisu’s room, your boyfriend watched as you approached the living room with a smile on his face, and when you were close enough he opened his arms for you to take a seat on his lap. You happily did what he desired, kissing his cheek when he wrapped his arms around you. No one in the room was looking at you, too busy paying attention to a horror story Minho was saying from when he was in college to mind the two of you.

Jeongin was sitting by the table, a piece of cake in front of him that he was eating until he was interrupted thanks to a notification on his phone. When he grabbed it, he saw the hour and he stood up.

“I didn’t know it was this late, I should be leaving, my roommate texted me saying he’s worried” he explained, being the center of attention. On the other couch, Seungmin stretched and stood up as well.

“I can take you home if you want,” Seungmin said, looking in his pocket for his car keys while he waited for Jeongin’s answer. The younger one nodded and added that it would be nice of him to drop him by his apartment.

“Thank you guys for coming, have a good night” you told them when they waved goodbye to everyone.

“Thanks for receiving us. Congratulations on your new job, Jisung” Seungmin spoke again, shaking Jisung’s hand while Jeongin hugged you and thanked you as well.

After them, Felix yawned and Minho teased him, saying that he was just like Jisu, to which Felix laughed and said that he could be right. They made their way to the front door and said their goodbyes to the rest of you, and that resulted in just you and the producers. Jisung offered to drive them to their new shared apartment.

That’s how you found yourself in the co-pilot's seat with Chan and Changbin sitting in the back giving directions to Jisung who was driving. It reminded you of the first time you got in the car with him and took care of Jisu, then you smiled when your memory replayed all the times you sat there talking with Jisung and admiring him while he drove, he always looked for your hand or rested his on your thigh during red lights.

While Chan was giving directions to Jisung, Changbin chatted a little with you, telling you that he wasn’t too excited to go to his new house because there was a pure mess of boxes and half unpacked stuff everywhere except for their beds.

“I forgot how much I disliked moving,” Chan sighed, eyes closed as he paid close attention to the window. Changbin agreed with him.

Once you were finally there, you saw them coming out of the car. You took Jisung’s hand and with a look you told him to stay there. “We should help them, Sung,” you said. He nodded, knowing that you would be worried if you didn’t voice your kind offer to help your new friends.

“Chan, Changbin, would you like some help unpacking?” Jisung said, helping you out of the car. They were standing nearby, waiting for you two to leave and being surprised when Jisung hurried to open your door.

“Nah, it’s okay. You should go back home, though, it’s pretty late,” Changbin answered after exchanging a quick look with Chan who looked at his phone, probably to check the hour.

“We got this, don’t worry. Thanks for driving us,” Chan contributed, watching Jisung walking slowly to the driver’s seat again. “See you on Monday, Jisung, and see you later Y/N, it was very nice to meet you” he smiled.

“Alright, but make sure to call us if you need anything. See you on Monday” and with that, Jisung started the car and you left. You had no idea when on the way back you fell asleep, but the next time you opened your eyes, the car was slowing down and you could recognize the familiarity of your building’s parking.

“We’re home, baby, wake up” Jisung’s sweet voice called you. You blinked one, two times before sighing and taking off the security belt, stepping out of the car and stretching. You waited for him to do the same and walk together to your department.

“Your friends are really nice, I’m happy you’re gonna work with them. Are you excited?” you asked once in the elevator, looking at him.

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’s been so long since we made a song together or shared ideas for lyrics,” he said, smiling at you and hugging you, pressing a kiss on your face. You closed your eyes, accepting it without saying anything and just enjoying the moment. It was small moments like this when you were glad to start working at the coffee shop.

The elevator stopped at your floor, and the two of you made your way to your comfy apartment. You sighed, knowing that you would have to clean and put away everything that was on the table. When the door opened you finally took off the heels you opted to wear for the occasion, sighing in satisfaction when your feet touched the cold ground. Jisung only looked at you with a soft smile on his face, and he walked up behind you, passing one of his arms under your knees and picking you up bridal style.

“Sungie! What are you doing?” you squealed, acting quickly and holding onto him, afraid that you would fall. Your boyfriend didn’t answer you, instead he smirked at you and kept walking to your room. Once in there, he somehow managed to turn on the light before letting you gently on the bed.

Hovering above you, you were able to see the lust in his eyes before he closed them and finally kissed your lips passionately. Your hands, still on his neck, pulled him even closer to you. You sighed on the kiss, moving one of your hands to his chest and the other tangling in his hair. Jisung took this as an invitation to straddle you, supporting himself with one arm and caressing your face with the other hand.

Soon, the intensity of the kiss ended when he separated to breathe again, pressing kisses on your chin and then travelling down your throat.

“This dress looks so good on you, honey, but I prefer how you look without it. I’ve been thinking about it all day, taking it off you. I’m so lucky that I’m the only one to get to see you like this” he whispered, his voice husky, making you shiver.

It wasn’t the first time he attacked you like this; it was mostly on special occasions, and usually he asked someone to take care of Jisu, the other times you two had sex it was very late into the night and rather quickly to avoid the exposure to accidents, so him suddenly acting guided by his instincs and fucking you like it was only the two of you in the whole world was one of the last ways you imagined today would end.

“W-wait, Jisung, close the door first” you warned him, pushing him off you. He quickly nodded, making his way to the door and closing it, also locking it and then, he walked slowly towards you who was now sitting on the bed, looking at him with needy eyes.

His hands went to his belt, slowly undoing it making you bite your lip. He took it off and let it rest at the feet of the bed, now taking his shirt and starting to pull it up until he was in front of you, finally taking that piece of clothing off from his body. Your legs hung open, allowing him to stand between them as one of your hands played with the hem of his pants, you looked at him through your lashes and he placed one hand on your head, patting you dearly before it went down to cup your face and he bended to kiss you, this time more sweetly than before.

He pushed you gently so you would be on your back, he kissed the exposed skin on your neck, being careful to not leave any hickies since he knew how much you struggled to cover them when you had to go out, he was always mindful of you, unless he wanted to show off that you belonged to him, then he would mark up your neck so prettily for everyone to see.

He kneeled on the floor, his nose on your thigh sensually caressing you all the way to your right knee, his hands hiking up the skirt of your beautiful dress and then resting now on your hips, exposing your undergarment. Then, one of his hands moved to hold the back of your thigh to put your leg on his shoulder.

Since the moment he kneeled down on the floor, your mind played images of the countless times Jisung's face was hidden between your legs making you crazy, allowing you to see stars when his magical tongue brought you over the edge. It was inevitable to contain yourself, your pussy getting wet since he started pressing kisses on your legs, torturing preparing you for the orgasm he would soon bring you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself enjoy the moment, he was holding your other leg open with his hand, allowing him full entrance to your now ruined panties. You were lucky you decided to match the pretty dress with your favorite set of lingerie. He hummed in approval when he saw your wetness.

He had you whimpering lowly, you knew you had to keep quiet but as time passed and Jisung decided to admire and tease you instead of doing something to you, you were starting to grow a little impatient.

"Babe…" you cried out, looking at him with pleading eyes "I need you," but he didn't seem like he wanted to pay attention to your cries.

"You need me? Why, baby? What do you need me for?" he answered, his deep voice making you close your eyes and his words provoking a slight blush on your face.

"I'm so wet for you, please…" you said. It was an obvious answer since he could see the mess he made of you. "Want you to eat me out, please…"

His fingers passed through your needy sex, making you sigh one more time. He grunted, but instead of moving your delicate panties to the side, his face got closer and he pressed a sweet kiss on your mound. When he was done teasing you, he moved away and finally started taking off that piece of lingerie, removing your leg from his shoulder and placing it there again once he had freed you from it.

His lips came in contact with your throbbing cunt, making you groan in satisfaction when his tongue skillfully, dragging it from the center of your wetness, taking a sweet moment to taste you and then going for his objective, his arms around your legs to keep you in place for him to torture you oh so deliciously.

You cursed, eyes closed as you permitted him to pleasure you like he knew you adored, your hand pushing him towards you as an encouragement to keep doing what he was doing, and he never stopped. Your hole throbbed, his tongue went up and down, he sucked and teased with his teeth as well, the sensations overwhelming you but becoming more and more intense, Jisung could clearly hear how you were coming apart and losing your mind from the silent posture you wanted to maintain, but he just loved your moans and heavy breathing when he flicked his tongue a certain way, and how you pulled his hair and you tried to arch your back. You were so beautiful, and to him there was nothing better than to see you like this, so flustered and sensitive from how hard he was going to make you cum.

Feeling how you started to shake, one of your hands flew to your mouth when you knew that you wouldn't be able to resist any more of the sweet torment you were a prisoner for, and suddenly, white hot pleasure numbed you and all you could do was lay there, pulling his hair locks and shaking slightly. Jisung never stopped his attack on you, the overstimulation caused by his tongue provoking a few tears from escaping the corners of your eyes, it felt like something new, like you had unblocked a new level of extasis.

Your high finally ended, and just when Jisung heard you breathing again he slowed down. You hadn't realized he put a hand on top of the one over your mouth to help quiet your cries, but you were certainly thankful that he'd done it, because if he hadn't, your neighbors would think he was ending your life or torturing a poor animal, or even worse, you would have a little girl banging on the door thinking you were hurt or something.

"You taste so good, my love, and you were so good to me too, enjoying how I played with your clit" he murmured, wiping his chin from your essence and standing up from the floor, looking at you with those lusty eyes you'd gotten to know so well, "but I still want you to come on my cock too. Look at me, look at the effect you have on me, Y/N…"

Your hand left his hair to clean your sweaty forehead, you tried your best to look at him when he ordered you to, his pants with an obviously painful erection, your eyes not failing to notice a dark spot that could be seen in the fabric.

Jisung undid the button and unzipped his pants, then slipped a hand under his dark boxers to pump himself, grunting from the touch of his hand against his dick, it was a majestic view you had only seen one time in the shower when he was horny but didn't wanted to wake you up.

It had been after a stressful night at the club full of young college students, he went straight to the shower after arriving home and the sound of the water hitting the tiles of the bathroom woke you up. You had sneaked to the bathroom, curious of the complaining noises Jisung made, and there you found him, with his eyes closed, a hand against the wall and the other around his dick moving slowly while he bit his lip, the water droplets running through his naked body making him appear like a Greek God. You kept staring at him working on himself maybe a little too much, because he ended up discovering you and then fucking you carefully in the shower. Truly, an incredible experience that even if it had been a little difficult to manage, you felt it was so worth it.

Finally undressing himself, Jisung stood up between your legs again, his hand on your stomach and he bent to kiss your forehead sweetly.

"You ready, baby?" he asked, waiting for any signal that could mean a positive or negative from you. One of his hands looked for yours to intertwine your fingers. You nodded, swallowing as you thought how good it was to have him filling you, and second later, he did just that. He stretched you as he entered you slowly, his hand squeezing yours next to your head while his other supported his weight, a quiet moan coming from his lips.

"Oh shit, Jisung! Fuck, you feel so good, please" your broken voice managed to speak.

You waited for him to move, but he asked you instead if you trusted him, and simple as that he shifted and now he was standing, your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, his hands on your eyes as he walked somewhere, the destination being your tiny balcony. You thought he wouldn't dare step outside, but he did and the cold air hit you, and not only that, but Jisung also pressed you against the cold glass door of the balcony.

"You better keep quiet, dove, or you'll get us discovered" he warned, proceeding to fuck you slowly as the moonlight illuminated you.

Two mornings after, you showered and got ready to eat breakfast. Jisu was already awake watching some cartoons as her dad hummed while he finished cooking her lunch. "Good morning," you said, going to kiss Jisung's lips and sitting to drink coffee.

"Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?" Jisung corresponded to your greeting, giving you a quick wink before turning his back to the almost completed food.

"I'm okay, not too tired. Thanks for the coffee, babe. Are you ready for work?" you asked him. He laughed, but he admitted that he was actually nervous since it was something he was very passionate about, it made you happy to see him following his dreams.

When you were done with breakfast, the three of you went to the car, you would drop Jisung first at his friend's company, and then you would leave Jisu at the kindergarten, and you would go to your classes as usual.

"Have a nice first day, Sungie. Love you, I'll see you at home"

"Goodbye, daddy!"

"Thanks, beautiful. Behave well, princess. Love you both" and after you left him, you drove to Jisu's school.

She was always happy to go, she always talked about how her teacher was so pretty and smart, and you couldn't blame her. He was very charming, you would admit, and not only was he nice to the children he teached, but he also cared for the parents too and let everyone know that they could count on him, he was such a lovely spirit, you thought it was a shame Jisung hadn't met him yet, since it was you always dropping Jisu and then going to college while Jisung stayed home and slept after the long and tiresome club nights.

Turning off the car, you got out of the car and opened Jisu's door, helping her out and then walking hand in hand as she excitedly told you that she couldn't wait to see her favorite teacher in the whole world.

"Good morning, Y/N, Jisu" his smooth voice reached your ears when you arrived at the classroom. More kids and parents were saying their goodbyes, luckily Jisu always showed that she was brave and never spent too long hugging you goodbye, too eager to go play with the others kids to mind if you stayed too long after or not.

"Hey, good morning, teacher. How was your weekend?" you asked him, trying to be polite and show that you were a friend for him if he needed to talk just like he was for everyone else.

"Oh, Y/N, I've told you you can just call me Hyunjin, and my weekend was good, thanks for asking. How was yours?" he asked back, looking at your slightly colored cheeks with an adorable eye smile as he reminded you once again to call him by his name.

"My weekend was also nice, thank you, Hyunjin. How-" you were about to say something more, but your alarm that indicated you should better be leaving for your class rang. "Oh, I'm sorry, it seems like I should be leaving for class! See you later."

The professor nodded in understanding, and you turned and left, careful with your steps to not trip and fall to the ground. When you successfully got into your car, you breathed in and exhaled, preparing yourself for the rest of the day.

That was how your new routine was created; first, Jisung woke up and made breakfast, then you dropped him at work and took Jisu to school and you went to college and once you were done with classes you picked up Jisu and went to work at the coffee shop where you would meet with Jisung and the three of you would get home, some weekends still going on trips and enjoying as much time together as you could.

A few months into the new routine, when you were dropping Jisu at school Hyunjin asked you to stay a little more, explaining that there was an upcoming school trip and he was asking you to go as a supervisor. You thanked him, saying that you would try your best to accompany him and the class as well, and sooner than you had expected, the day arrived and Jisung and you were more than ready to go to the aquarium with a lot of other kids and few parents.

The trip was fun, if you had to admit. Seeing all the fish swimming and getting to know more about them was very interesting, and many kids agreed with you when you said that mermaids were very lucky to live underwater with many beautiful species.

Later, Hyunjin announced that it was time for lunch, so everyone had a break to sit down and eat. You were sitting with Jisung next to you, he was drinking from a juice box when Hyunjin approached you and sat with the two of you, addressing you and ignoring the man next to you.

"You're incredibly good with kids, Y/N, and it really shows. They seem to like you a lot" he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, his eyebrows raised as he spoke.

"Well, thank you. I like being with kids, actually, I've always wanted a big family" you shyly responded, looking at Jisung through the corner of your eye. You thought he would react somehow, but he was too focused looking at the kids who were playing near you.

"Well, you're still young and you seem pretty put together to be a single mother… If you look further you might find someone you could share your life with and get married" Hyunjin mumbled, turning from you to look at his class running around the cafeteria.

"Single mother?" you repeated, eyebrows furrowed as you repeated his words on your head again.

"What? Since when are you a single mother?" Jisung's voice reached your ears, making both you and Hyunjin turn to him. "I thought… I thought I was her father?" his voice cracked, making you open your eyes wide in confusion.

"Aren't you her uncle?" Hyunjin asked, finally acknowledging his presence.

"No, Jisung is Jisu's dad. I'm… I'm not a single mother, I'm Jisung's girlfriend, not… Jisu's biological mother" you explained to the teacher in a quiet voice to not get any attention from the other adults near you.

"You're her dad? I'm so sorry, I always saw Y/N leaving Jisu and picking her up, I thought… I thought you and her were all by yourselves. I…" Hyunjin's hand flew to cover his mouth, he seemed so ashamed from his quick assumptions that his face started picking a pink tone. "I wanted to invite you to a date, Y/N. You're a fantastic parental figure to Jisu and– and you're so beautiful, too… I have a big crush on you, I'm sorry…"

You wanted to answer to his apologetic words, but you were too shocked to say anything, not knowing what words would be appropriate to speak so you turned to Jisung to see what he had to say in regards to this situation instead.

"Look, I can't blame you for liking her. She really is magnificent and I'll never get to comprehend how lucky I am for being by her side. I'm sorry, Hyunjin, but I'm sure one day you'll find someone like Y/N you can love" the sincerity and affection carried on his words made you look down and stare at his hand that had moved moments before to hold yours, you already knew but you loved him and how sweet he was.

Hyunjin smiled at your boyfriend and then cleared his throat, "thank you for saying that. You two make a lovely couple, but… if you ever get to break up, you know where I work, Y/N" he winked, moving to stand up and walk away to get the class's attention and continue the tour.

Neither of you spoke a word about Hyunjin's misinterpretation of your civil state after the trip. Sure, it had shocked you at first, but you brushed it off as something not that important. What you didn't know was how badly those words were torturing Jisung's brain. He stayed up most of the night that day, an arm around your shoulders as you peacefully slept on his chest, his head running wild with thoughts about you and how much you changed his life.

That's how he finally gathered the courage to talk to Chan and Changbin about marriage; he knew he loved you, he knew you were a highlight of his life along with Jisu and he was a witness to how much you and she liked each other. He couldn't ask for anything more, and besides, maybe having a ring on your finger would help you stop getting flirted with when you already shared a life with him, because after all, you were young and full of life, many people approached you and asked you for a drink at college or they also asked for your number at work, and the idea of getting married to you excited him more than it scared him, so why not propose to you?

His friends supported his choice, Chan and Changbin had gotten to know you a little more and you got along with them together, they supported you and Jisung and they also offered to babysit Jisu to give you private time together. They were very considerate, and not only that but they could feel how much Jisung adored you in every lyric of any song inspired by you.

So a few months later, one tranquil Friday evening after work when his friends dropped him off at the coffee shop that was nearly empty (except for the owners, Jeongin, Chan, Changbin and for some reason Seungmin too) you were surprised by his cautious behavior.

Jisu was sitting on Changbin's lap when Jisung took your hand and made you walk to the middle of the place, clearing his throat nervously while still holding your hand, making eye contact with you when he started speaking:

"Y/N, this is where we met a long time ago, and this is where everything began that day when I asked you if you could do me a favor. It was the start of our story together, and after spending many days and nights with you I'm more than certain that I love you. I loved you that day, and I will still love you tomorrow, so would you marry me?" He finally ended his speech with a knee on the floor, Jisu next to him handing him a small velvet box that he opened, revealing a beautiful ring inside.

You were more than surprised now, staring at his kneeled form with teary eyes, a hand covering your mouth as you simply nodded in response to his question, and then he placed the ring on your finger, kissing your hand and then standing up to kiss you sweetly, making your heart melt.

"Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much" and after that, everyone rushed to congratulate you two, creating beautiful memories for you.

That Friday, Jisu clung to her uncle Changbin's neck and waved goodbye at you and your now fiancé, saying that she couldn't wait to go to the fair the next day with him, making you laugh and kiss her forehead goodbye, thanking Changbin (and Chan too) for taking care of her and taking her places.

When you arrived home with Jisung that night, you couldn't help but smile like you did when he kissed you the first time, it was a satisfactory feeling, to know that he loved you as much as to ask you to be a permanent part of his life. You were clingy to him, which also made his heart flutter when you pecked his lips or giggled when he touched you gently, but behind the closed door of the apartment he wasted no time and kissed you hungrily, like a caveman trying the most delicious thing in the world.

You breathed in, corresponding to his rude kiss, your hands on his face and his resting on your waist.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to know you're gonna be only mine, sweetheart. Just mine," he whispered, his breath against your cheek when he separated from your lips to tell you that. He had pressed you against the door as soon as he locked it, attacking your lips like it was his only mission and then going down your neck, leaving a warm trace of kisses burning your skin.

This time, he paid no mind to the 'no marks' unspoken rule he had given himself, sucking on your neck with the sole intention of leaving evidence of the passionate night the two of you would be having to celebrate your engagement, and you couldn't complain. He had given you the ring you thought you would get in a few more years, you might as well show that you're already taken to anyone who crossed your way, it turned you on a little more, if you had to be brutally honest. Seeing Jisung being possessive of you always made you feel like you were one of his priorities, and also showed you that he had no intention in leaving you alone any time soon.

Moving your head to the side to allow him more access to your neck, his hands started taking your jeans off and were now running through your belly under your shirt, touching everything he could as he kept marking you.

"You're only mine now, baby" he growled, separating from you to take off your shirt and look at your almost naked figure, his eyes with a heavy lusty shadow on them.

"... Just yours" you repeated, closing your eyes and taking his face to kiss him with the same passion he did when the door closed behind you.

Your hands rested on his chest, fingers trying to unbutton his shirt, successfully failing at completing the task when he separated from you, placing one of his hands on top of both of yours and pinning them above your head, resting against the cold door while his other hand slipped through your panties.

He groaned when he felt your growing wetness, he found your clit instantly and rubbed it, making you sigh in satisfaction until his hand went down further and he inserted two fingers inside you, this time dragging a gasp from your lips when your walls felt the introduction of his digits. It felt nice, but you knew his cock would feel better inside you, you loved how he filled you.

Pumping his fingers slowly, you started moaning, letting yourself enjoy his treatment. His mouth left kisses on your clavicle, then your chest and when you least expected it, he was pulling your bra down with his teeth and sucking on one of your nipples, his fingers never stopped their work on you causing you to become a wet, moaning mess with twitching legs until you finally came, crying out Jisung's name when your high hit you.

He kept pumping his fingers, having discovered that you did actually like when he overstimulated you once and since then doing it from time to time, this being one of them, and when you blinked your orgadm away, the pulled them from you, loosening his grip on your wrists and licking his fingers clean from your juices as he hummed.

You thought he would be done, you thought he would like to go to bed and fuck you until you screamed his mess in the comfort of your king size bed, but apparently Jisung had other plans in mind, as he undressed his shirt and threw it to the floor with your clothes and pulled you by the arm to the back of the couch, turning you and pushing your back so you were bending over it, his knee between your legs separating them and keeping you from closing them. He started taking your underwear off, his fascinated lusty eyes appreciating how wet you were, practically dripping.

"I wish you could see yourself, you look so lovely, all ready to take me after I made you cum with my fingers. I bet I can make you cum like that again, would you like that?" He asked.

You gulped, "N-no, I want your cock, please fuck me with your cock!"

"My needy baby, so cute. It's 'kay, I'll make you cum around me sweetheart" he responded while his hands caressed your ass lovingly until you couldn't feel them anymore. Soon, you heard him pull his zipper down, anticipating what was yet to come.

"Are you ready, angel?" He asked, pressing the tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. You nodded, and he started pushing himself inside your velvety walls, stretching you.

With a growl, his hands held you in place by your hips, making sure you wouldn't move from the position he had you in as he started pulling out, ready to repeat the process, meanwhile you were holding a pillow for dear life as your breath got caught in your throat as you waited for him to set up a pace with his hips.

Jisung started slowly, enjoying how you felt around him and loving the way you took him in, looking at how he disappeared which caused him to moan. You, on the other hand, had to resist the urgency of moving. You remember telling Jisung that you wanted him to bruise your cervix, saying that you wouldn't mind new things to which he agreed quickly.

Maybe that was why he had started more than the usual missionary, you were thankful that he kept it in mind, and now surprising you by taking you on the couch, in front of the turned off TV where you could see your blurry reflection getting wrecked from behind by him, it felt incredible.

"You feel so good, I'm so glad your pussy is just mine" he moaned, stopping for a brief second to take your right leg and rest it on the couch to hit a deeper spot inside you, making you start tearing up from pleasure.

"A-all yours" you cried out, inevitably clenching around him when you repeated what he said. You saw his cocku smile through the black mirror that was the TV.

"Ah, J-Jisung, harder!" you demanded with a whine when he found your g spot, the detonator to your best orgasms.

The sudden sting from his hand landing on your butt cheek shocked you, making you moan. "Where are your manners, baby? I thought you were my good angel" he said, starting to slow down the speed that had increased since he started thrusting.

"Please, go hard-harder" you corrected yourself, and once he heard the magic word he instantly did what you had asked of him, provoking you to moan each time he reached where you wanted him, and soon you were clenching around him, legs shaking and walls hugging him tightly causing him to near his climax as well.

It took a few more thrusts for him to find his release, but when he did you felt him filling your insides with his warm seed, a sexy groan coming from his chest and his fingers leaving a bruise on your hips from holding you too hard.

Pulling out from you, he pushed his fingers inside your pussy to keep his cum from hitting the ground, then he carefully pushed you on the couch and walked around it to cuddle with you in his arms.

"I love you" he told you, his hand petting your hair innocently (as if he hadn't fucked your lungs out 5 minute ago).

"I know," you answered, kissing his chest and tightening your arm around his torso in a half hug.

"Let's stay like this for a few minutes and then we can bathe, okay?" you hummed in agreement, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you until any of you felt gross enough to want to get cleaned.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but when you realized Jisung wasn't with you any more you stood up looking for him, only to find him filling the tub, a few aromatic candles lighted up, a delicious smell reaching your nostrils. You saw the bathtub was almost all full, so you decided to surprise Jisung by wrapping your arms around his back.

"Let's get cleaned up, what do you say, sweetie?" He said, removing your arms from him and stepping into the warm water, opening his arms for you.

You rolled your eyes, but copied him anyway and rested your back in his chest. The water relaxed your muscles, the candle's scent helped you feel almost like in heaven, and Jisung arm made you know you were safe. Everything was so sweet, until you felt something else poking your lower back.

With a raised eyebrow, you faced your partner with a silent explanation only to find him staring at the love bites on your neck, but you opted for not commenting anything about it.

"You know… I really love you and I'm happy that you accepted to be a part of my life," he said, his deep voice and serious tone getting your attention, so you faced him to hear all he had to say.

"I remember you told Hyunjin that you wanted a big family, and… I know Jisu wouldn't mind having a sibling. I believe now would be a good time to have a baby of our own, but only if you agree with me, honey" he smiled, kissing your shoulder.

"Are you serious?" you asked him after processing his words in your head. He nodded, his hand playing with yours as he waited for you to say something else.

"I would love to, Sungie. I already consider you and Jisu as my family, hell, I feel happy when she tells her friend I'm her mom. So yes, if you're really sure, I want to do it. Let's have a baby" you smiled excitedly, moving to kiss his lips sweetly.

"Then we should keep practicing, shouldn't we?" He joked, winking at you after you ended the kiss. You hit him playfully, giggling at his question.

From joking about it, you two ended up having sex on the tub and staying there until the water got cold and the candles lighted out, and yet, when you were cuddling in bed ready to sleep, you couldn't stop smiling. It had been a fantastic day and even better night and early morning.

Next morning when Jisung saw you walking to the kitchen with his shirt on, he kissed your lips and greeted you with a "good morning, future Mrs. Han," a plate of pancakes in front of you.

"I'm so lucky to have you" you told him, to which he replied with "I'm so lucky to be loved by you."

And you decided that this was pure happiness, you didn't have anything to worry, and you loved your family and your friends a lot, you were almost done with college and starting to plan a wedding. Maybe you weren't rich, but you had everything you wanted and maybe a little more.

After all, engraved in the ring Jisung gave you, it said "for my soul mate", so you had him, for as long as time lasted, and he had you, the missing piece of the puzzle of his life.

You complemented each other, and comprehended each other. What you two had could be considered 'true love', and you were thankful to the universe for placing this single dad in your life, showing you what happiness, and what love was.

"I can't wait to marry you" you sighed, daydreaming about how you wanted the wedding to be.

"And I cannot wait to call you mine legally" he responded, kissing your cheek.

"I've always been yours"

"That's good, because you'll always be mine in the future as well. No quitting now, babe!"

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #han jisung x you #han x y/n #han x reader #han smut #han x you #han jisung smut #mine #original content #part 2 #scheduled post

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emerald-chaos · 3 years

Text

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

#eeek #i hope you all like this #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan #James Buchanan Barnes #James Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

*°:⋆ₓₒCollab Masterlistₓₒ⋆:°*

Pairing: All Might x Gn!Dom!Reader (Theme for this month was sex work au!)

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+ this is a dark fic, both dubcon/noncon, straight up, forced submission, bit of mind break, dom/sub dynamics, sub!All Might, dominant All Might later in, dark All Might, violence against reader, bodily harm, face fucking, spanking (for Toshi), thigh riding (for Toshi), blackmail, minor mentions of blood, bondage/rope play, reader is gender neutral, no pronouns used

Summary: You work as a popular dominant for pro heroes who need to give up control once in awhile and Yagi Toshinori is one of your best clients. But when word gets out to the media about your involvement with pros, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Though you quickly discover All Might does not take kindly to anyone who threatens his reputation.

It was all about the exchanging of power.

About the relinquishing of control—about letting go and the freedom that came with it.

And you?

You were just there to facilitate, to take over, to release all those bottled up years of stress that the camera’s weren’t supposed to see.

But you did.

You saw all of it.

It was about trust too. Trust in you to give them what they need and trust in them to do exactly as you instructed. And most of all, trust that everything stayed confidential. That the things said through tears and whimpers and sighs were kept quiet. Trust that they would show you the same respect and privacy you showed them.

You took these rules very seriously. They were the foundation your business was built on and it had earned you quite a lot of credibility. You prided yourself on it, as you should. Professionalism was key in your line of work. It made the clients feel a bit more comfortable—counteracted the sense of taboo that was usually associated with people like you.

People in “your line of work,” was the common way of referencing it. But you preferred to be clear and upfront, not skirt around the edges as though your job was something shameful.

Language was important too.

“Client,” “session,” etc...all added a buffering degree of separation for those you serviced. It was a crucial part of the balance which has allowed you to be so successful. They needed to be able to remove themselves from who they became once you were alone together. You’d learned that some amount of plausible deniability was key to achieving the complete relinquishing of authority. They had to be able to convince themselves after they’d walked away, that the crying, begging mess they’d become wasn’t who they really were—wasn’t actually a part of them, just something you’d done.

And by them, of course, you meant the heroes you served so dutifully.

And by serve, you meant completely and utterly dominate.

Contradictory to most common misconceptions, your job wasn’t always about sex—though it could be and was at time—but truly, it was about release.

And above all, it was about power and who got to hold it.

When that structure was broken—when the rules were strayed from—that’s when things got murky. But you were good at what you did, so luckily, that hadn’t been much of an issue.

What more could one expect from someone whose services are sought out by the Symbol of Peace himself?

Hm.

You really ought to get that put on your business cards.

***

It was late when he came to you, though that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Occasional hero work coupled with a teaching schedule and numerous media appearances left one very little free time. Fortunately, you conducted most of your business during the small hours of the morning, so Yagi Toshinori showing up at your door as the clock ticked its way past two wasn’t a shock.

You fell into the usual rhythm of things easily.

Toshi was one of your newest, but most favorite clients. You came highly recommended from many of his coworkers, and after an initial meeting over drinks to discuss his needs, you struck up a routine that worked for the both of you.

Of course he paid you handsomely for your time.

Constantly being in the public eye, acting as an unwavering representation of hope for the future was tiring. You were more than happy to take the weight off his very broad shoulders for once.

And bend him over your knee instead.

“Five,” he panted, whimpers of thanks and your name spilling out around his loose tongue as your hand connected sharply with the meat of his ass again.

You always asked to be called by name, no frilly titles to get in the way and complicate the dynamic. When they walked into your space, they set aside their hero personas and you afforded them the same intimacy.

Names meant something. Names were power and so they mattered, particularly in this game you played together. Equality had to be achieved before domination.

“Good boy Toshi, you’re doing so well,” you cooed and brought your palm down twice, watching the skin on the backs of his thighs bloom pink like sakura in the spring.

“S-six, seven,” there was a wet spot forming under his mouth on the sheets and on your lap where his cock was bare and leaking. “Ah, please—harder!”

You raised your brow as he turned his head to look at you with those teary, dark eyes and you could never resist a look like that.

“You want it harder, why’s that?” you wound back and smacked roughly over the raised welts that made him hiss and sob. “Is this what you deserve for being so weak?”

He may have been thin now, skeletal compared to the face he showed the public, but you didn’t mind. He trusted you enough to let his guard down, and his weight was still thick and full across your legs. It was invigorating to see a man like All Might, reduced to this. Whatever pent up guilt he carried inside, you were here to help let it all out in the best way you knew how.

“Yes!” Toshi cried and buried his face into the plush fabric of your comforter as you delivered the last three harsh blows of the punishment he paid you for. “Fuck yes, I’m weak and I’m a failure and I deserve this—!”

“That’s right, you’re a piss poor excuse for a hero and you haven’t earned your title,” you wrapped two thick locks of his hair around your hand and yanked hard till he craned his neck to face you. “What would the world say if they could see what a sobbing mess you are when no one’s looking?”

He opened his mouth to speak, hips twitching and grinding uselessly against your thigh. The second that plush pink tongue dipped past his lips, you were rearing back to spit straight between his teeth.

Toshi’s face was always priceless in these moments. You’d almost be willing to do it for free if you only got to see the way his brows shot up and those red rimmed eyes blew so wide as you steeled yourself and looked him dead on.

“Now, swallow like the little bitch I know you are.”

And he did, of course he does, because behind your bedroom door Yagi Toshinori was your good boy. So you got to watch his throat bob as your spit slid down and he moaned so pretty at the awful things you said to him.

Your palm kneaded against the red, raw flesh of his ass and you watched how he squirmed at the sting. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and expensive cologne. Your head was spinning from the smell alone and the high of the control you wielded over this man. His hands fisted hard in your bed sheets and you let him helplessly rut against you a few times before running your free hand up the graceful curve of his spine.

“Oh, you really are so disgusting Toshi,” you mused as your nails dig into the planes of muscles to drag angry red lines over the skin. “Did you really get that hard from me slapping this tight little ass of yours?”

He groaned pathetically and nodded, not bothering to hide how his dick had been oozing obscene amounts of precum every time you etched a new welt on his skin. The blush that crept up his chest and painted his cheeks had spread between his legs too. The unfairly massive cock that Toshi sported was flushed a dark angry red at the tip and you couldn’t help but have mercy on him.

Well, only a little bit.

You weren’t here to be nice tonight, even if a part of you might have liked to be.

“Do you want to cum, Toshi?” you asked, lacing your voice with the false sweetness you knew he loved. “Have you been aching for it all night?”

He keened, crying your name and rutting his hips harder against you. It sent a rush of warmth between your legs despite your better efforts to remain unaffected. This wasn’t about you, this was about ownership and his pleasure.

“Mhmm,” his voice was little more than a rasp, “wanna cum so bad, please!”

You laughed, but it was a cruel thing and you knew he could feel the rumble of it in his scarred chest.

“You did so perfectly taking your punishment,” you raked your nails over the raised handprints again just to hear him cry out. “I suppose I’ll let you cum, but you’ll have to work for it.”

Toshi’s breathing was ragged as you helped him up to straddle one of your legs. His swollen cock rested on the plushest part of your thigh, the tip nudging your hip and drawing choked gasps from the man towering above you.

He stared down at you, confused when you didn’t move to stroke him.

“Go on, then,” you smiled up at him, resting your weight on your palms so you could lean back and watch the show. “I said you’d have to work for it, didn’t I?”

You punctuated your question with a bounce of your knee that rocked his length against the fabric of your pants. It didn’t take long for him to catch on, eyes squeezing shut against the waves of shame and embarrassment that just made it so much hotter as he slowly began to ride your thigh.

He might be paying you to be ruthless, but Toshi was kind to a fault from what you’ve learned of him and he ke[t most of his massive weight held on the balls of his feet so you weren’t crushed below him. Under any other circumstances, you might have actually enjoyed that quite a bit, but his face—cherry red with spit-slicked lips held parted with the force of his pants—was enough for now.

His cock was so heavy you almost couldn’t believe it was real. You nearly didn’t the first time he’d stripped for you, but even just the drag of it through your clothes was delectable. It was so long and thick you needed both hands to wrap fully around it, and he gushed like a fucking gieser when you got him under your metaphorical boot.

With every rock of his bony hips, his length was forced up against the curve of your stomach and he whined at the glistening strands of slick that connected his tip to you.

“Come on, Toshi,” you clicked your tongue disappointedly at him, letting a hand fall to the puckered skin at his waist, squeezing harshly. “I know you can do better than that.”

He was beyond words now, you could tell by the way his jaw was loose and his teeth clacked with every thrust, but he did gasp out a long, high pitched moan that made up for it. The speed of his humping increased, becoming erratic as he hunched on the bed, hands beside yours. He loomed over you but anyone could tell just by the composed, serene smile playing at your lips—and the absolutely wrecked noises spilling from Toshi—just which one of you was really in control.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You knew he liked it when you spewed filth to him right before he boiled over and you were more than willing to oblige.

“You’re gonna cum like a fucking teenager humping his pillow, isn’t that right?” you snarled the words up at him and he really did cry then, big fat tears dripping down onto your shirt. “All Might, the number one hero is gonna cum all over my lap like the slut he is.”

He nods frantically. You know his balls were tensing up as he sobbed and spluttered—completely ruined. Just the way he needed to be.

“Then cum.”

You finally wrapped your fist just around his aching tip and he exploded into your palm. Rope after rope of sticky, white release coated your arm and dripped onto the bed. He kept grinding his hips, working himself through the climax, cock still pulsing and leaking in your grip. You didn’t mind the mess.

He always tipped a bit extra if he left stains anyway.

Such a gentleman.

When the last wave of his orgasm had petered out, Toshi collapsed to the side with his face buried in your pillow and his long legs still strewn across your lap. He didn’t usually ask for much in the realm of aftercare, preferring that you cleaned him and let him rest for a bit before he suited up and rushed off into the night.

You gave him a minute before you got up to wet a warm cloth in the sink. He looked so destroyed, you couldn’t help but admire your handiwork. As you palm his ass once more, fingers spreading him so his pink hole was on display, you slipped your phone silently from your pocket, and snapped a few shots of the nasty red hand marks and smears of cum as he groaned deeply at the touch.

His voice was lower as he grunted and you could tell he’s coming out of the subspace you’d thrust him into hours before. Quickly you slid the device smoothly away before lifting his legs from you and settling them gently on the bed to work on tidying up your mess.

You didn’t feel particularly good about keeping this kind of collateral, but as much power as you hold in the four walls of your bedroom, you were frustratingly weak once you left them. These men you worked with, while generally professional, were also top heroes. Top heroes who really didn’t want their embarrassing private lives getting out. Top heroes who thrived off reputation and who would willingly throw you under the bus in a second to protect that.

You liked Yagi Toshinori.

But you didn’t know him.

Smacking someone’s ass or stroking their cock every few weeks didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.

So you kept your personal insurance that would be there should one of your clientele decide to forsake you in favor of their public image. And you would never use it unless you absolutely had too.

After all, this was about trust and power and the exchange of those two things. Or at least it was supposed to be. Trust was quite a subjective thing.

The general citizenry trusted All Might to protect them against the growing evil in Japan’s underground. But behind the scenes, you knew his failing health had caused him to seek you out as the intense guilt of his lie came crashing down on him.

Toshi trusted you to relieve his pain and indulge in his degrading fantasies, and you hadn’t failed him yet.

But your trust was not easily bought, and none of your customers ever paid much mind to whether your perceived belief in them was genuine.

After so many glimpses into the messes of pro-heroes personal lives, you knew you’d have to be your own protector. Hence, the photos remained in a locked folder hidden away as you sat yourself down next to the dozing hero and wiped away as much evidence of your meeting as you could.

“How are you feeling?” you asked quietly, lathing the warm cloth between his legs and softening length.

“Good, all things considered,” he responded, voice returned to it’s normal, deep baritone.

“I sincerely hope you won’t have to do much sitting tomorrow,” you quipped and it earned you a chuckle.

“I’ll manage.”

You rolled him gently and finished clearing the rest of his spend from the flat expanse of his stomach. Toshi mumbled his thanks and you gave his thigh a friendly squeeze before retreating from the room to shower and change yourself.

He’d be gone by the time you got out, notification of payment on your phone and a sizable tip left on your dresser as a parting gift.

And as long as Yagi Toshinori was just as good a boy on the outside as he was here, then the world would never need to know what their Symbol of Peace got up behind your closed doors.

***

“All Might! Mister All Might, sir!”

The grating voice of that shithead reporter echoed through the speakers of your headphones over and over again. Your hand shook as the train stuttered to a halt and a wave of passengers burst out onto the platform.

“All Might, are the rumors true!?”

Your stomach sank as the reporter shouted your name above the ruckus of microphones and camera flashes and roaring bodies. Their voice was like chalk on your tongue, dry and cracked and clamoring to know whether the Symbol of Peace was involved with the recently revealed ‘seedy’ and ‘scandalous’ sex ring between yourself and multiple top ranking heroes.

You’d been out having a relaxing lunch with friends in the city when everyone’s phones blew up. It wasn’t that you hid the general details of your job, but by the looks on their faces were enough to make your face burn. The judgement was clear—what you did was abhorrent, disgusting and by extension, so were you. Reporters had caught you on camera with a certain second ranking pro and very quickly deduced exactly who you were and what services you offered.

The tabloids took it and ran, dragging your reputation behind them.

Call after call and text, dms on your social media pages, all from news outlets requesting interviews or quotes or hero fans calling you a ‘shameless whore’ for going after pros—hell death threats had even begun to fill your inboxes.

Hero fans really were ride or die, you supposed, although the ‘die’ in that scenario seemed to refer more to you than themselves. They would never believe their precious big boy crush had ever associated with the likes of you, had ever willingly kneeled for you—had ever enjoyed it.

They couldn’t understand the things you did, all they saw was some false emasculation.

And if it came out that Toshinori had any contact with you, his career would be ruined.

You had hoped from the little you’d learned about him in your sessions, that he’d simply deny knowing you existed at all. That he’d have mercy on you, treat you like the thousand helpless civilians he pulled from burning buildings or whatever the hell heroes did these days.

But you’d been right before to say that you didn’t know Toshi.

And now you certainly didn’t like him either.

“Are you one of the pros involved?” the reporter hounded again as All Might’s massive form panned into frame.

“As your Symbol of Peace, I certainly do not partake in such degenerate behavior,” his words rang out, deep and resonating. “I would never associate with someone who’s actions border on criminal.”

The dark, soulless pits he called eyes stared mockingly from your tiny screen as his signature laugh reverberated through your ears along with the train’s clacking breaks. You ripped the headphones from your ears and closed out of the app, ducking your head and pushing towards the door. Everyone’s eyes were drilling into you, worming deep under your skin and making you squirm like so many of those heroes had done on your silk sheets.

Rationally, you were aware not many people would have seen the story yet. Tabloid trash took a day or two to disseminate into the general social media outlets and for people to take notice. Your friends only knew because your name stuck out to them, but you were hardly recognizable in your typical citizen attire. Even still.

Your life, your work, all of it was on display.

And he’d called you a degenerate.

The infallible All Might had taken your name and tossed it in the guttered, likened you to a villain and single handedly destroyed everything you’d built in the process.

Years of effort and crawling your way up the ranks of society all for nothing.

All so some washed up hero could keep his fantasy of success going for just a little longer. Toshi trusted you with his secrets, his weakness, his body, and you’d defended that at every turn. The only thing he had to do was pay a small fee for your time and discretion.

But no amount of money could fix your toppled character. Nothing could reverse your place as a disgusting slut in the eyes of literal millions of people.

Bold of Yagi Toshinori to underestimate you so thoroughly, to think that you’d sit back in the rubble as he rescued cats and little kids and lived his delusion of perfection.

This was about trust and power.

When those lines were crossed, that’s when things got messy.

And you’d make sure to leave so big a mess, Toshi would never dream of coming back from it.

***

Your apartment building was thankfully free of any press when you arrived home. It had been a few days since All Might instigated your public slander, but the mass media hadn’t managed to track you down after you went into a short period of hiding.

You needed time to let all your other clients involved in the scandal play their cards.

There would be no use in condemning one just to have them warn the rest of their equally impending doom. That way you could be assured they’d all come crashing down with you. Especially the blonde poster boy of hero society himself.

His would be the sweetest fall.

It had been long enough now that you could start compiling. You locked the door behind you, shrugging off your coat and settling on the couch. The plush cushions sank as you fell back, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your contacts. Toshi was there, two red and blue hearts on either side of his name. You pulled up his text thread.

You’d thought about going public of course.

Of course you had.

Your entire career had been trashed, you’d been shamed by the number one hero himself and your personal life was blasted over social media.

But you were human, so you were weak.

And you had liked Toshi.

Well, you hated him now—a deeply dark, burning resentment—but before that, he’d been so sweet to you in a way that most were not. Respectful and nice and you were unused to it. So, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to eradicate his credibility in the same outright manner.

No, you had decided you’d give him a chance.

Because you were better than him.

A chance to atone, come clean, apologize the way you’re sure he would if his public image wasn’t so goddamn important to him. So you didn’t reach out to any of the media outlets that had been hounding your socials for the past week, and didn't offer them the inside scoop quite yet. Instead, you stared at the handsome contact photo of your hero client and slowly typed him up a message he couldn’t ignore.

It was short and sweet, polite but firm. You acknowledged he most certainly did not want to speak with you—in fact, you weren’t very inclined to speak with him ever again either—but you happened to be in possession of some fairly compromising photographic evidence of your time together. And if that evidence were ever to, say, end up in the pocket of the exact scandal rag that sent voice clips of All Might all but denouncing you as a whore to the nation, well. Things would certainly not end well for him.

But, you were nothing if not professional.

He knew that.

You never wanted to use these, but he had forced your hand. Of course you were more than willing to work out a deal with him.

He was your favorite client after all.

In any case, he knew how to reach you, and he had a generous 48 hours to give you an answer to your proposition.

Oh and you were kind enough to provide a little snapshot of just exactly the type of evidence you meant.

Your thumb hovered over the little blue arrow to send. The phone clacked against your nails as it shook in your grip, slick from sweat and frayed nerves. You couldn’t quite tell if you were anxious or angry or some awful combination of the two, but your heart was in your throat as you shut your eyes and pressed send.

There was no going back, and if this all came tumbling to the ground, you promised yourself that you would shatter gracefully.

Letting the screen go dim, you stared in silence at the small check mark confirming the message had been delivered and your fate sealed. You pulled yourself to your feet and made your way to the bedroom.

He’d get back to you soon, or maybe he wouldn’t. You couldn’t know for sure whether or not Toshi would simply ignore your texts and be blindsided when the deadline passed and you destroyed him all over again in a far less enjoyable manner than you used to. But whatever the case, it was out of your hands for now.

With aching feet and tired eyes, you stripped slowly and stumbled towards the bathroom. Turning the water to just below scalding, you did your best to scrub away any pesky remaining guilt that clung to you in a thin, suffocating film.

You told yourself that there was no other choice. That you would have found another way if there was one. That this was how business often went. You had seen it before when you first entered in the field of sex work and you’d see it again. So you scrubbed yourself raw and let all your doubts trickle down the drain.

Tonight, you would sleep restlessly, but it was a fair enough burden to carry for your honor.

You were foolish to believe the cost of revenge wouldn’t bear a heftier price.

***

You woke slowly, trapped momentarily in the strange limbo between sleep and consciousness that fooled you into thinking the strange tightness at your wrists was nothing more than a leftover side effect of a dream.

The reality was so much worse.

It wasn’t until you felt the blunt, radiating sting of knuckles backhanded against your cheek that the haze of sleep fell away, and you could truly appreciate the scene before you.

Which was to say, you could take the opportunity to scream before Yagi Toshinori’s fingers were shoved down your throat to muffle the noise. He was large, shirt seams full to bursting, and sporting an expression you’d never seen before. His eyes, while always dark, were like holes now and they filled you with an unfamiliar sense of dread.

He’d called you a villain before, and now he was looking at you like one too.

“Oh no,” Toshi hissed. His voice was impossibly deep, reverberating against your ribs painfully, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you.”

One quick bout of struggling made it very apparent he didn’t want you moving either as your wrists had been bound behind your back and your ankles were similarly immobilized. The fingers in your mouth pressed hard on your tongue, his thumb pushing below your chin to make you choke and splutter.

“You really let all that power get to your head, didn’t you?” Toshi’s voice was buzzing in your ears and mingling with the pain in your jaw. He put one massive knee on the mattress and hooked his fingers behind your teeth, forcing you to sit up from the bed.

You could feel your face burn as he looked down at you, drool slipping passed your lips and coating his fingers. The straining bulge in his pants looked even bigger than you remembered now that he was no longer the slip of a man you’d come to know as Yagi Toshinori.

No this was All Might, the Symbol of Peace.

And you got the feeling that whatever was about to happen, it was not going to be peaceful for you.

He had you tied and trussed like a piece of meat, and he would treat you like one. You’d seen this before, you’d tied these knots—he’d been where you were now, but he’d asked for it. The loss of control was never something you’d delighted in on a good day, and now the rising pressure in your chest and the sensation of walls closing had panic coursing through you.

“Did you really think that I’d come back here willing to grovel at your feet?” he jeered, the trademark smile on his face more snarl than grin.

He shook your jaw violently in his grasp, listening to the joints pop as they tried to stretch around his thick fingers. Your name left his mouth in a mock coo, just as you had done to him so many nights before. “Remember, you might get to call me a bitch but it’s only because I let you.”

Your hands trembled violently against the bonds which tore the delicate skin and rubbed it raw. Toshi’s free hand traveled along his thigh to rub himself through his pants, his knuckles brushing your nose as he bucked into his palm.

“But now you’ve stepped out of line,” he mused and clicked his tongue as though you were a student who’d done poorly on his latest exam. “And I’m going to make sure that whore mouth of yours never utters my fucking name again.”

Eyes wide with horror, you watched as Toshi’s fingers fumbled with the button and zipper of his slacks until his cock had sprung free, monstrous in length and girth, dripping onto your forehead.

You’d seen it before, but it seemed bigger now. So big that you’d never been able to take it, and Toshi had been staunchly against you ever trying lest he quite literally split you in two. But any kindness he’d shown you before was clearly off the table. His fingers pumped in and out of your throat as if preparing you somehow to take the stretch. It wouldn’t help. You knew that. He knew that.

Toshinori smiled as he removed his fingers in favor of digging the spit slicked digits into the joints of your jaw, ensuring you wouldn’t bite down on him as he pressed the spongy tip to your lips. The panic that had set in—making your blood rush and your limbs shake—was constricting your chest and the pressure of Toshi’s dick pushing past your teeth made your breathing even more erratic.

You whimpered loudly, trying to wrench your head away as the strong salt and musk flavor of his pre cum spread across your tongue, but that only made him thrust forward harder. His length quickly hit resistance back of your throat as you gagged and tears burned at the corners of your eyes.

The ache in your jaw was already unbearable and your bottom lip was being rubbed raw by warm spit and the friction of Toshi roughly fighting to sink his dick fully into your mouth.

“Mm, that’s it,” he groaned as you inadvertently licked over his tip, trying to force him away. “You look so much better like this.”

He ran a falsely sweet hand across your cheek, collecting the stream of tears and using the moisture to slick the rest of his length. Your chest heaved in a mixture of gags and increasingly violent sobbing. You were stretched painfully wide as he rolled his hips again, pushing the thickest bit of his cock into your mouth and forcing your teeth to dig painfully into your upper lip. With the next thrust, he was able to sink another excruciating inch deep into your throat. Blood rushed from where you bit yourself and caused crimson streaks to form as Toshi fucked slowly into your mouth.

Your mind was slipping.

You’d had so little time to process the encounter, so instead your brain had secluded most of your consciousness into a precious little box, away from the intense burning in your throat as Toshi finally sank all of his innumerable inches completely into you. Your throat bulged and protested, tightening in an attempt to force him out.

It only made him moan loudly and dig his fingers into your hair.

“See?” he huffed, pulling out at an agonizing pace only to ram his length in roughly to the hilt. “I’d never lie to my public, you really are just as much of a slut as they say you are.”

You shrieked around his cock, though it was muffled so badly by the lack of air and the wet slap of his constant thrusting that no one but you could hear the screaming in your own head. The pain was unbearable, this awful friction burning sensation that had your stomach churning and your chest wracked with stifled cries. Your bound legs kicked and your fingers grasped useless at the sheets as Toshi fucked your mouth reckless abandon.

Time blurred along with your vision, whether from the lack of oxygen or the tears you weren’t sure.

And most horrifyingly of all, was the pleasure that grew as your mind drowned the pain in darkness. You felt as though you were floating, disgusted but euphoric and the slide of him against your lips became delicious. Heat rose in you and built between your legs accompanied by a distant and unfamiliar ache to please, to be touched, to taste him, to obey.

You wondered if this was how he felt when you forced his mouth on you. If he slid into this strange space where your mind was a separate entity and the only thing that mattered was the pain and the pleasure and the release.

Because somehow, in the midst of your struggle and revulsion, he’d made this strange, incorporeal part of you enjoy this.

All the fight had drained out of you, letting your jaw hang slack and your tongue flick up to catch his tip on every backstroke. Your eyes flitted up to look at him through the haze of tears and sweat, hoping strangely that he’d be pleased with you. And the groan you earned yourself was delectable.

You gave in, then. Let yourself be swept away by the rushing of blood in your ears and the rhythm of Toshi tearing you apart.

At some point, you could distantly feel his thrusts becoming more erratic, turning into a rough grinding in your mouth.

You couldn’t even taste it when he came, his cock was too obscenely deep in your neck, but the warmth of it burned your bleeding throat and filled your belly with a hot finality.

You weren’t even afforded the dignity of spitting his seed onto the floor where it belonged, ignoring the searing voice in your head that revealed in being rewarded with his essence.

When Toshi finally pulled out and tucked himself away, your head fell limply to your chest. A series of violent coughs erupted from you as a thick, viscous mixture of blood and spit and cum dripped from your tongue.

Those impossibly large hands gripped your chin once again, forcing you to look up into those piercing black eyes.

“Now, you’re never going to speak about me again,” he wasn’t asking but you glared up at him as his hand fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone.

The device was comically small in those hands of his as he aimed it at your ruined face and snapped a picture—the flash blinding you while he reached around and roughly undid the knotted rope keeping you in place.

“Because if you do, I’ll make sure those reporters know everything I said about you was nothing but the truth.”

The loudest part of you wanted to scream, to punch and bite and tell him it wasn’t. That you were a professional, with self-respect and dignity and you were good and your job, but—

But when you opened your sore and aching jaw to shout, nothing came out.

No sound, no yell, no words.

Just this awful rasp that made your throat feel like pins were sticking into the abused flesh.

“Well, looks like I might not need this after all,” Toshi dangled the phone in front of your face before pocketing it once again. “Looks like you won’t be saying much of anything for a good long while.”

And then Yagi Toshinori left.

He turned on his heel and walked out as you toppled off the bed behind him, trying so hard to scream despite the pain and the ripping in your chest—whether they were curses or cries for him to stay, you weren’t sure.

But there was nothing either way.

So you sat and screamed in silent agony at his retreating form until the sound of a door slamming rang out through your home.

It seemed that in all your years of playing this game, you’d finally been toppled off your tightrope.

Because you were good at your job, so you knew. It was all about the exchange of power, and yours had just been thoroughly stripped away.

#all might x reader #yagi toshinori x reader #toshinori x reader #tw dubcon #tw noncon #tw blackmail #dark all might #dark yagi toshinori #mha smut #all might smut #mha x reader #mha fanfic #bee.writes

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inspiteallthedanger · 2 years

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hello! what do you think was the meaning behind john proposing the idea of the greek island? do you think he really thought it through and seriously considered it?

This made me laugh, because if you ever find yourself thinking, "Did John really think this through?" you can stop right there. No. No, John did not think it through. Not here, not ever. John doesn't do consequences, he does vibes and gut emotions. He steamrolls forward blindly (almost literally at times) hoping for the best. One of the recurrent themes with John is that he was constantly baffled when his actions had consequences. I mean, we all know men like that, right? Right?

Side note: this was part of the reason why he and Paul worked so well. Paul overthinks to a ridiculous degree, so they could often balance each other out. Or annoy the shit out of one another.

But, the meaning seems to have been exactly as it seems. He thought they could all run away from real life together and set up a commune. That was also conveniently a tax haven.

John wasn't in a very good place during that period. The LSD had sort of broken him down as a person, so he was struggling with knowing who he was and what he wanted. He seemed to find it easier when he was with The Beatles, probably because they were the only ones that knew what he was going through. Also, just because they knew him so well. He was really searching for a connection (as he was almost all of his life but the LSD seemed to make him more open and vulnerable about it) and wanted to bring the people he loved closer to him. This being John, I always wonder if them all being sort of trapped on the island was a way for him to feel safer i.e. less like he was about to be abandoned.

Also, I imagine that dropping out of society and the pressures of fame was just really appealing to him. It also fitted with the general hippy ethos. It shows how much this wasn't thought of as a crazy idea that they actually went and looked at some islands. Although, I'm not clear if the island came up for sale and someone suggested it because of the tax reasons or if John wanted something like that separately. A mix of both, I think.

It was never going to work, but I sort of wish they'd tried anyway.

#beth rambles

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teruthecreator · 3 years

Text

okay. thoughts on the grad finale

gonna slap it under a readmore bc i’m Sure i’m gonna ramble.

uh spoiler warning for the finale of taz graduation, as well as spoilers for the season in general.

also, these are my own thoughts of how the season went, what the themes were, etc! if you don’t agree with me, that’s fine! but i don’t wanna have a convo w you in the replies about it i’ll be honest. if you want to share your opinion so badly, make your own post, alright? that good? we cool?

aight. so. finale thoughts.

to make it short: i think the finale was a satisfying end of a very good arc.

to expand upon that, let me share what i think the themes of graduation were and why the finale satisfies those themes.

i made a post about this a while back (here it is if you want) but my honest belief was that the theme of graduation was self-reliance: the concept that you don’t allow yourself to be governed by forces that go against your own beliefs. this concept was coined by essayist ralph waldo emerson to talk about how the american people shouldn’t allow the government to create laws that go against the will of the people. now, understandably, this feels very anti-capitalist which is what i think a lot of fans believed was reflected through the season.

but, in reality, self-reliance has more to do with being active in your government and making sure you’re being represented the way you want to be by your representatives. that’s sort of the vibe emerson was going for in his essay, and i think. in a sense? that translates to graduation. but i took self-reliance in the more metaphorical about breaking away from those things that are controlling you. which, in graduation, was A Lot Of Things.

the way i saw it, there were two major groups that inflicted order upon the world and the thundermen--conveniently separated as order and chaos (not the deities though, just the concepts).

the order half of control existed mostly through the school and the HOG. the HOG created the economic reliance on the heroes and villains system, which removed all literal meaning from those terms and turned them into bureaucratic titles. society existed under these very strict checks and balances; heroes and villains supplied money to the kingdom in terms of entertainment, which then boosted that kingdom’s creditability and allowed them to contribute more to nua’s economy, which then led heroes and villains to have a higher demand, thus perpetuating the cycle. it’s important to note that this term does not represent the sort of morality we expect for heroes and villains--hell, even the term “evil” turned into an arbitrary term used to show those heroes and villains who failed the system. this is the more prominent representation of control that the thundermen break away from in achieving their own self-reliance. they don’t see the value in a system that holds no real moral code (fitzroy Especially, but i’ll get into that in a bit), and can’t help the public when there’s actually a serious situation. as we saw with althea in the beginning, the HOG had no way to help the thundermen when they were dealing with the whole Demon Prince situation (as he had already placed some of his own people in there, proving these kind of systems are easily corruptible). so this wasn’t a system meant to Actually create heroes and villains--it was just a way of boosting the economy.

the chaos half of control existed primarily through grey and Chaos. grey represented how chaos could be controlled, through various means. he planted that tree for the centaurs to fight over because he knew it would constantly create conflict, which he enjoyed. he kept the school under a watchful eye to prevent anyone from stepping out of line with his grand ideas, and used several manipulation tactics to try and get his way (most notably, his own admittance of grooming fitzroy into joining his side, which didn’t work). grey was the perfect example of how chaos does not automatically mean a lack of control. he was very controlling in how he did things because he had an endgoal: find hieronymous and have a war. but he didn’t even realize he was contributing to a greater idea, that being Chaos’s insistence on causing general disarray. as we realize now, Chaos’s plan was both for them and Order, but i’m leaving Order out for a second because they only really rear their head in towards the end. for the most part, audiences were led to assume that Chaos was the Big Bad(TM); they were the one pulling the strings, allowing things to happen to cause general chaos and disarray. them supplying random mortals with their endless power was a way to plant chaos into the world of nua; but it was a chaos they controlled. fitzroy resisting them was not simply a refusal to bend to Chaos, but it was resisting the control put on him through his magic.

these systems were constricting the thundermen on both sides. when they thought they’d find help in one side, they were disappointed to find that there was nothing anyone could do. the only people who could fix their problems were...them. so they forged a new path, set new ideas, and became self-reliant. that’s what i think is the most important aspect of graduation; not the anti-capitalist implications of turning over the economic and political systems in place, but the idea that if nothing that is supposed to help you is actually helping that you can just...do your own thing!

and i think that’s what the finale really shows, at the end of the day. that these forms of control were not doing anything helpful, and were in fact ruining the fabric of space-time! that’s where i think Order comes in because Order is really...the ultimate culmination of control. they are aware that Everything being done will benefit their cause. the HOG? well, they make sure everybody’s so incompetent that they can do their work. grey? well, he’ll contribute to the plan without even realizing it. they even manipulated Chaos and enacted their own form of control over Chaos to make sure that they had no reason to believe that this plan couldn’t go wrong. but Order knew. Order always knew there was a chance for error, and that chance was very great. but they didn’t care! so long as they had control of things, they could try a hundred times to get it right. they had no care for mortals, unlike Chaos.

the thundermen showing Chaos the truth is the final jenga piece that collapses this tower of control. which is why the finale is so great.

travis does a phenomenal job of incorporating chaos (general chaos) into the battle mechanics. it may be stupid and slightly arbitrary, but having them change forms randomly and having to adapt to those new circumstances really does exemplify the season!!! the thundermen were constantly forced into new situations (being sidekicks/henches, fitzroy becoming a villain, being let in on the heiro dog situation, the unbroken chain trial, joining forces w grey, etc.), and in all of them they simply found a way to adapt and keep working their way. which made the finale generally interesting and also thematically interesting!

i think my favorite part of the entire fight scene is right at the end, when argo chucks the shark’s tooth necklace at Order. and time stops. and they’re given a choice.

the fact that they leave it to a coin toss?? oh my god...how fucking FITTING!! like, that’s disorderly. that’s going your own way. it’s new, it’s terrifying, it has DIRE UNKNOWNS ON EITHER SIDE, but it’s what they do! and...it ends up working out! i think it would’ve worked out either way, but the fact that they left it up to chance really shows how they aren’t allowing anything to control their actions.

AND THEN WE GET TO THE EPILOGUE. MY GOD I LOVE THE EPILOGUE I’M GONNA GO OFF SO MUCH.

first off, i loved hearing how Nua adapts to losing this very significant form of government/economic contributor and turns to more people-based work. citizens uniting together, fixing things, making amends, THAT’S SELF-RELIANCE BABEY!!! THAT’S THE WHOLE EMERSON SHIT! HAVING A SYSTEM OF GOVERNMENT THAT ACTUALLY HAS THE INTERESTS OF THE PEOPLE AT LARGE!!! YEAHHHHHHHHH THAT’S THE WHOLE SELF-RELIANCE THING!

now, i’ll break it down by characters:

fitzroy

GOD. LOVE IT. FIRST OFF, absolutely ADORED how his character arc involved him stripping himself of these self-assigned titles because he actually has an identity that is all his own and he doesn’t NEED arbitrary titles to prove his worth because HE HAS IT IN HIMSELF. not to self-plug or anything, but that’s ssoss!fitzroy’s WHOLE SHIT. I’VE ALREADY BEEN ON THIS TRAIN, BITCH, AND TO KNOW I GOT IT SO RIGHT...GOD. FEELS GOOD.

but also, i just really enjoy how his ending went in general. the fact that he doesn’t really know what he wants to do, so he just...does stuff he likes to do? that’s so good! because, if you remember, fitzroy had a Very set schedule of life events when the campaign started. he was going to get his wiggenstaffs degree, go back knight school, get his knight school degree, and then go to goodcastle. but all of that was based on a very limited understanding of himself.

fitzroy’s character arc has primarily focused finding himself, specifically in terms of identity. for someone who was bullied for his past, the present formation of himself was Extremely important to fitzroy. he thought that shutting out his past and taking on this grandiose title of knighthood would make him something more than himself. he would no longer be fitzroy; the poor, country kid trying to make it in a big world. he’d be Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt; respected, honored, revered, with a title to prove it.

he explains to fauxronymous (pre-reveal grey) that the reason he wanted to be a knight was because he wanted to assist in doing good. morally good. fitzroy has Always had a very clear sense of his morality; this comes through when he refuses Chaos on the basis of many people having to die if he agreed. but being a knight also had the added of bonus of a very respectable title that no one would want to look beyond, which fitzroy felt he needed because...i don’t think he Saw anything beyond that. in himself. he wasn’t himself for a very long time, and i don’t know if he ever thought he would be again. he’d wear this new identity, start a new life, and be happier....he hoped.

then, things changed! and he started to realize that arbitrary titles don’t do shit because plenty of people with Big Important Titles ended up being Awful People! so he started to value himself For Himself; his wit, his humor, his strength, his magical prowess. and, i think, he started to wonder what knighthood was Really about. was it about upholding a moral good? or was it just another bureaucracy filled with people who won’t do shit when things get bad.

i think this is why him becoming a lawyer is fitting. especially because of the reasoning he gives sylvia nite. now for A LOT OF PEOPLE, i’m sure they hear lawyer and assume some corporate hotshot who doesn’t give a shit about people. but fitzroy is Not applying to be a corporate laywer. he SPECIFICALLY telsl sylvia that he wants to help people who cannot help themselves, and he wants to do good in that way. THAT kind of lawyer is more of the pro-bono, district lawyer. the ones that don’t make crazy amounts of cash, but help those who cannot afford lawyers and represent them when the government is fucking them over. those lawyers don’t rely on title, they rely on principle.

that’s the perfect representation of fitzroy’s growth. holding his identity within himself, while still trying to do good by those who need it.

firbolg (aka gary)

i think the firbolg’s ending is so unique but so...right for him. his character arc has really been focused around finding his family. he had one, in the beginning, in his clan. but that didn’t end up, y’know...working out that much. so he had to go out into the world alone--something that firbolg’s are rarely--and try and navigate these foreign spaces all by himself.

we see very early on how he latches onto the idea of groups. he likes being considered a part of the thundermen; he very much hoists himself upon the CFO title and wears it proudly. i think, where fitzroy needed to find identity within himself, the firbolg needed to find it within other people. which is completely okay! he’s still an individual, but you can tell he finds comfort in numbers because that’s what he is used to.

him going back to his clan was, i believe, his finally severance with his identity as “firbolg”. he would never be welcomed back to his clan, and one of the few people in his life who supported him was now dead. but his father was proud of him; his father was happy he seemed to find his own clan, even if it wasn’t with other firbolgs. from that moment on, i think the firbolg begins to try finding himself within the thundermen. within his friends.

so his epilogue is neat! it definitely captures the loneliness he feels on his own, and how he feels lost with himself without others. i think it might seem silly to some that he would become a gary, but i think it’s fitting. the garys were always present in his time at school, and they were always helpful. they didn’t mind how long it took him to talk because the gary’s are stone gargoyles--what the fuck do they care about time? it was a group that the firbolg saw as familiar to him--always willing to help, slow, stony, and attuned to a larger group.

and i think the way gary takes this idea of unity and family and puts it into financial assistance just...it just ties everything together! we saw how attached he got to the concept of finances, thanks to his very confusing accounting class. so he had all of this new knowledge--this knowledge that represented a separation from firbolgs--and this new clan. and he used it to help other clans and families!! i think the fact that the Garys financial advice works specifically with groups is what makes this so fitting. because gary wants families to feel stable within themselves; he understands how finances can create struggle and divides, and he wants to provide relief.

giving financial advice to communities so they rely on themselves and not the government (aka inviting them to be controlled once more) is a VERY self-reliant concept. not that i think gary’s goal is to have no social networks to exist, but he wants to give communities the ability to rely on one another and foster that feeling of togetherness. so groups aren’t fighting over things, but are trusting and loving and relying.

just like gary’s always wanted. and just like what he has with the thundermen.

argo

argo’s ending is probably the funniest, but also the sweetest. i think that argo’s character arc revolved around finding his place. we see how argo’s early personality and motivations revolved around his past. he very much had a revenge story since the start; he wanted to enact revenge on the commodore for murdering his mother, no matter what it took. which made him very limited!! in terms of the self. he saw himself less for what he was now, and what he was then. and what he couldn’t do then.

we see how much he finds comfort in being a part of the thundermen, but also how he feels...out of place. i think this is because a part of him is still attached to his past and doesn’t think he can do anything beyond his set plan. the unbroken chain certainly contributes to this, by not only separating him from the trio but also reinforcing his connection to his past through his mother’s involvement in the unbroken chain.

the commodore also being a part of the unbroken chain is, i think, what causes the shift from past to present within argo. his life’s goal is standing right in front of him--attached to the group his mother once was a part of--with his friends at his side. letting the thundermen in on his history is the start of bridging these two halves of argo. and the fact that the thundermen are so willing to helps makes argo feel more a part of the team and more a part of this reality.

when he kills the commodore, it isn’t intense. it isn’t overly dramatic (minus the fight prior, which was BADASS), it isn’t crazily staged. it is argo, staring down the commodore who lies prone on the ground.

he kills himself unceremoniously and completes his life-long mission.

what becomes of him in the epilogue is the culimination of both past and present. he takes what he knows and loves (the sea, the mariah, sailing) and blends it with what he’s come to love now (his friends, this adventure, and making people happy). there are SO many instances where argo uses performance to his advantage. this man is piloted by clint mcelroy, of COURSE he’s going to have a flair for the dramatic.

so for him to open up a themed cruiseline, based on the stories of him and his friends? SO FITTING. and it isn’t forcing himself to leave his past behind or to completely ignore his present circumstances. because he’s found a place in the now, in the merging of these two sides. and by merging them, he paints a bright future for himself. a future that is partially known, partially not. partially old, partially new.

but it’s all his.

after that, i think their final scene is just...sweet. a nice, jovial, joking send-off to a nice season. it proves these people have grown and will continue to grow, even when we no longer see their story. it does exactly what graduation does--shows you a struggle, a triumph, and a glimpse into the future.

i’ll miss it so much, but there’s nothing more i could’ve asked of this ending. it was exactly what it needed to be; nothing more, nothing less.

#taz grad spoilers #taz graduation #sir fitzroy maplecourt #argo keene #firbolg #taz fitzroy #taz argo #taz firbolg #ignorance cloud on #this took a while and now my head hurts so lol!#also if there are spelling mistakes leave me alone i cant read this text anymore

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