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#(obviously be respectful and don't then uncomfortable but you know what i mean)
moonchild-in-blue · 8 months
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I need our best friend Mr. Adam Ross to come through with those flower crown pictures because I cannot function right now.
(also if they decide to give ii one as well I'll legitimately pass away)
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medicinemane · 7 months
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All I'm saying is any rule, any law, any social convention, anything where there's some kind of reprisal for transgressing against it... just make damn sure you're careful with it lest it be used against you
Every freedom you give up in the name of making a better world, really double check it's worth it and narrowly defined
I mean some freedoms are worth giving up, for instance I don't have the freedom to kill people who annoy me, and I shouldn't have that freedom. I lose very little while gaining a great deal both personally and for society as a whole, and there are a lot of places like this where it's 100% worth it to ban something outright
Similarly, there absolutely are reasons to socially shun people, like you don't have to put up with every last thing just to be nice. Influencers who do stuff like harass people to drum up attention or record and post every second of their kid's lives, I don't think we should be engaging with people like that unless it's to keep an eye on them, I think they do a ton of harm
All I'm saying though, is shit like the Patriot Act drummed up support because it was going to protect people, keep people safe... and look what actually happened, look how it's used. It's state surveillance against the people it claimed to protect and that's about it
I'm not gonna tell you which things are wrong to shit on people for, or which policies you should oppose. I don't want you to just mimic what I believe, even if I thought anyone was gonna
I just want you to look at stuff, and think about it, and really decide if that thing you want gone is harmful in a concrete enough way that if you do something to try to remove it, it will only remove that instead of spilling over in to stuff you didn't want it to
I just want you to check in your head if anything you're cracking down on either legally or through social pressure might lead you to losing something you care about down the road if bad actors skew how to interpret things
I'm not saying that's how it's gonna go, I'm just saying think first
#you know what I'll always respect?#when cloudflare basically just removed their ddos protections from... think it was stormfront or a similarly hateful website#and here's the part I respect#the owner came out and basically said 'yeah; I woke up and was basically like fuck those assholes; I'm done with this'#'because we basically had people asking us to just step aside; so i knew they'd get hit with a ddos if we cancelled our contract'#'and I don't regret it at all; because they're awful people and I hate them'#'but I also have to say it's pretty worrisome that I could singlehandedly make a decision like that'#it went something like that anyway; and I respect the fact that he realized the gravity of his actions#like I mean I agree with him; agree with what he did; fuck those assholes#but he had awareness about the whole thing; he realized that there was danger that the unpopular voice wouldn't always be unpopular#because it was saying something hateful and vile like in these cases#sometimes the unpopular voice might be saying something true; and just; and important; that people just didn't like or want to hear#and that... it's very hard to work out how to tell the difference in terms of a systematic framework#and that also like... well; our gut will tell us which things are good and bad; which things should be protected and which shouldn't#except... that's fucking stupid; we all get it wrong; and most of us are ruled by what makes us uncomfortable more than morality#like be blunt; that's a pretty damn true statement if you think about it#and even if it's not; there have been absolutely abhorrent ideas in the past that were held as sacrosanct pillars of society#like was it wrong to say 'slavery is horrible and should be banned' just because some people found that an unpopular opinion?#obviously not; like blatantly those people were wrong#but you have to acknowledge; you really really have to acknowledge that you're capable of being one of those people#that you're capable of believing wrong; bad; hurtful things even though you're trying to be a good person#that you could be on the pro slavery side of things in a modern situation where we just haven't moved far enough along#for it to become more or less universally recognized that yeah... you're just being a backwards asshole about things#we can all be tricked; we can all fall for vile lines of thinking if they appeal to us in the right ways; me included#the important thing is to constantly try your best to reevaluate why you believe what you believe and provide evidence#I don't know... just don't be passive and assume you're right#check that what you're saying and doing isn't causing undue harm#it's tough... we all think we're freethinking smarties who've come to the right conclusion#so if I tell you to make sure you're right; you're gonna say 'yeah of course I am'; and you know? so am I#but just like... try to be a little introspective; and try to interrogate what you believe and why
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"You Don't Own Me."
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pairing : Alastor x overlord!reader
summary : A new overlord has came to play in Hell, you. Alastor took notice in how many souls you've accrued in such a short time. He has to let you know where you stood in the overlord hierarchy, however things don't go the way he originally planned.
warnings : slight blood play ig? Idk. Author trying to edge the reader :)) not proofread
word count : 900
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You hadn't been in Hell for long but it felt as if you belonged. It didn't take long before you started catching the hearts of the sinners. A lot happily giving up their souls to simply breathe the same sulfuric air as you. The way you used these souls was unique. You weren't mean or evil in anyway shape or form. In fact, you were often seen as an inspiration.
The overlords in Pentagram City were a different story. None of them liked the way you shot up the hierarchy without even trying. Instilling fear was what got them where they were at and they weren't going to give up their seat to a goody-two-shoes like you. Your methods interested one overlord in particular, Alastor. Despite literally being stuck in the past, he was quite the open-minded demon.
He didn't know whether or not to applaud you or challenge you. Your talent would be useful. He wanted you for himself. And for years he fought to claim your soul and make a deal. And not once out of the hundreds of proposals did he convince you it was a good idea. The two of you slowly started to develop a strange relationship. Nothing romantic but there was definitely tension. While he didn't own your soul, you were often in each other's company.
It was like mutualistic relationship. He staved off the overly pushy overlords constantly offering you a job; jobs that would obviously make you uncomfortable. In turn, you offered your assistance in a lot of his business. It came with pros and cons like any other agreement. He was extremely possessive of you. You were treated like precious property. You had enough. There was no reason for this behavior. Typically it didn't bother you, but something snapped.
"Alastor. You do not own my soul. I'm not property that you can toy with. I should be allowed to go wherever I please." You crossed your arms in frustration hearing him explain why he didn't want you in the Vees territory.
"Darling, you know I hold you with upmost respect. It's got nothing to do with you being property. I understand you are immune to Vox's hypnosis spell. It's not him I'm worried about. My worry is of Vox's plaything, Valentino." He gripped your wrist, leaning ever so slightly to place a kiss on your knuckles. "Understand that you are a sight to behold in the entirety of Hell. Valentino, is not honorable in his job as I, my dear. Without the proper protection, you might as well be an easy target." His breath ghosted your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
It's like he forgot who you were, what you were capable of. It was time to show him how that talent of yours has affected him over time. And trust when you say, it did.
"Oh Alastor, I think you forget as to how I became an overlord in the first place. The feminine charm that you oh so fear backfiring on me is why you have been by my side after all these years." You wrapped your fingers around his bow tie, pulling him down to your level. An enchanting smile creeping up on your face as Alastor's expression glitched out from the bold action. The other hand running through his hair making him let out a soft purr. His eyes focused on yours trying to determine your next move before you could decide.
To his surprise, you gently pressed your lips against his. His head was dizzy with confusion and guilty enjoyment. Your lips trailed down his neck, biting down a bit. Enough for his blood to trickle down. Your hands were now trading between playing with his hair and drawing small circles on the back of his neck. Your lips returned to his, smearing the blood from your tongue as if it were a beautiful crimson lipstick. The poor guy was so touch starved, he gave in to the sudden intrusion of affection. He couldn't do anything but allow you to press his buttons.
Your tongue ran over your lips, swallowing whatever blood was left on them. You took a step back to view the obvious mess you've made. Alastor's eyes were dazed as if he was in another world. His face beet red nearly matching the color of his suit. It was such an unusual sight to see on him. And you managed to do it.
"My my, Alastor, you look like you would be willing to sell me your soul just readingthe look on your face." You held your hand to your lips to cover the laugh attempting to escape. "How the tables have turned, dear." A joke of course, he would never actua-
"Yes." His ears dropped to the back of his head, still standing at your level. No sign of humor on his face.
"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked dumbfounded, mouth agape.
"I will give you my soul, but only if I'm the only one to experience that from you." Your face flushed from his proposal. Alastor had actually submitted to you because of a single kiss? But it wasn't JUST a kiss to him. It forced out desires he had been holding in for a long time. Now more than ever was he determined to have you be his. It didn't matter as to how anymore.
"You've got yourself deal, Al."
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a/n: I know this one is short, it was more of an experiment because of a dream that I had. However if you like this concept, I'd be more than happy to build upon it in the future.
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pedge-page · 4 months
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#5 Joel dealing with his fiesty preggo wife - angry af
Can be read with others in the series or standalone
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Notes: Pedro chewing gum between takes on set does things to me.
Warnings: unprotected rough sex, Daddy kink, degrading language, reader being mean at first but Joel gives it right back *winkwink*
18+ ONLY
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The two of you are sitting in the living room on your respective sofas. You keep giving Joel the devil eye from your book in your lap as he watched the football game on TV.
Eventually, you roll your eyes, slam your pages shut and stand up, barreling past him and intentionally knocking your shin angrily against his knee.
"The fuck?" He coughs.
"You're fucking annoying, Miller."
"Funny, thought that was your name too now?" He quips, eyes staring back ahead to the TV while he points to the gold band on his left finger. "What have I done now?"
"Your chewing."
Joel side eyes you, expression unchanged as he blows the most obnoxious bubble from his gum imaginable before letting it pop! and sucking back in his mouth to chew. "What about?"
“It's annoying. And you're disgusting."
"Am I now? What else?"
"You've got a big ugly ass nose, too."
As much as Joel suspected this angry outburst out of nowhere was just the pregnancy setting every little nerve on edge with you, he want exactly privy to being attacked with your foul words.
"S'that right? you didn't seem to have a problem with my big ugly ass nose last night when you came four times from this snout nudging your little clit when I ate ya out."
"I was fakin' it," you scoff unconvincingly, the both of you knowing it’s a lie. But you refuse to back down. "While we're at it, here's another thing: You eat pussy like a bitch."
Joel Miller did not like it when a woman had to fake shit around him. Let alone his woman obviously lying about faking it. He stands up, the broad physique of his body instantly shadowing yours. "Ya know, I don't really like your tone today, young lady." He approaches you calmly but with a threatening predatory aura.
You tilt your head mockingly. “Yeah? My young lady self is stuck here with your old, miserable, lazy ass." You don't shuffle away, feet staying planted where they are until he's directly on top of you. Your eyes narrow, challenging one another. "It's a honestly a miracle that you even knocked me up with your wrinkly, shriveled, limp dic—“
 - 
Being married is a funny thing. Sometimes you don’t even have to say what it is you don’t realize you need, but your spouse is very adapt at picking up on it. Like right now, with face being shoved into the headrest of the couch by your husband’s meaty hand on top of your head, pregnant belly hanging over the curve of the cushion while you’re knees rub against the plush seat, Joel’s incessantly powerful hips driving forcefully into your stuffed cunt over and over again like a screen door in a hurricane. 
You’re smiling like a happy drunk, moaning off the top of your lungs as Joel’s cock continues to fill you effortlessly. He’s grunting and swearing, drips of his sweat trickling on to your arched back. Normally this position would hurt, especially with the extra 30 pounds of weight in your middle completely weighing you down, pressing uncomfortably into the couch, but my, oh my does it feel like a incredulous weight off your once aggravated mind.
“Ugh--ahh! FUck!” You cry, teeth sinking into the plush leather.
“What? Ya tired already?" he taunts, panting gleefully at your submissive state. "You wanted this. Remember? Just needed a good fucking, is that it?” He seethes, rutting his hips like daggers. 
You nod dumbly, elbows fighting to keep you and the baby from being plowed into the cushion. You throw as much of your weight back on to him with each thrust, forcing him deeper.
“Yeah, oh fuck me baby— yeah that’s it.” He licks his lips, watching the spot where your swollen and glistening pussy continues to suck his length back in. “My poor little wife, needed her cunt fucked stupid to get that little brain to shut off. Little cumdump gettin all antsy, startin’ a fight when she just needed a fresh fillin'. Don’t you worry, angel. Daddy’s here to put ya back in your place.”
With one hand still forcing your face into the headrest, the other is gripping your meaty hip, bringing you flush against his thighs with each puncture. You can feel him reaching the deepest part of you, the part that you didn’t know needed itched until Joel knew to stick his cock in it.
“Ye-yes daddy!” you whine when he hits that squishy spot inside that has you seeing stars, finger nails biting into the leather as you milk his cock with your orgasm.
“Ah-fuck yeah baby, keep goin’, keep cummin’ on Daddy’s dick—that’s my whore—my good wife—FUCK yeah!—fuuucckkk, ya needed that cum, I can feel it. Squeezin’ me so god damn tight. That’s it, just let go, give me everything, Daddy’s got ya.”
And what made Joel Miller so different, so husband and now soon-to-be-father worthy, is that, even though he’s railing his heavily pregnant wife in a position that would cause most women pain, you were as comfortable as can be. Despite the aggression that poured from his lips and hips, his hands occasionally cradled your tummy, checking on the baby’s movements. Glides down your back, massaging your spine to ensure you’re relaxed and not cramping. Listens for your breathing, the sounds that escape your throat, waiting for any sign that you might be in pain. He’s constantly making small adjustments for your comfort without you even fully realizing it. You couldn’t be more in love with him.
And his big fat delicious cock that put a beautiful baby in you and hopefully, will continue to do so for many years to come.
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positively-mine · 3 months
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You're a girl?!
how they find out & they're reaction
tags: afab, stalking mentioned, no spoilers
a/n: I FORGOT TO QUEUE THE POST 😭😭 also I couldn't find a purple banner so...yeah
series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚
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Vil
Firstly, it's that he's an actor himself and he knows. Part of being an actor includes observing your coworkers and how to make the chemistry between each other work to ensure the success of the media. Whether it's how you interact with the other guys or you're using baggy clothes that are way too big for you, or overall uncomfortable atmosphere (behavior etc.) coming from you when you're around the NRC students. Secondly, it's his eye for detail that is able to put the pieces together and figure you out. No stopping it there I guess 🤷‍♀️
It would be a lie to say that nothing changes. On the contrary, he visits you more often to leave you beauty and skincare products. Oh yeah and he forgot to mention that he "borrowed" your uniforms to make some alterations to them. He may not need to know the reasons why you're keeping it a secret but he'll be damned if he lets you walk around campus with shabby clothes and skip out on your face care routine due to the lack of necessities.
Rook
Stalked. Do I need to say more. He's curious about the student that's unable to use magic and stopping blot after blot. You've piqued his interest and now he needs to quench it. So he decided to follow you around for a while. Which eventually leads him to discover you're a girl. The situation in how he finds out? Well there's many possibilities. You change in a different room, you try not to go to the toilet outside of ramshackle, constantly monitoring you and overhearing what you talk with Grimm. But if anyone asks, he'll say it's hunter's instinct.
Obviously stopped stalking you. I mean he may have weird habits but he draws the line at being a pervert. When it's just the two of you, uses more feminine pronouns (I think some french words change depending on the gender they're referring to, if not pls correct me 🙏) Doesn't make it awkward at all with you. Nothing much changes except for the fact that he's more protective of you and suspicious of other people's intent on approaching you. Stalks them instead to figure out their motive..
Epel
Sweet boy thought that you were also a victim of pretty face syndrome. Maybe that's why he found it easier to talk with you and hang out. Don't be surprised that he's always trying to sit with you during lunch. What he didn't expect however was that when he was walking over to your table, he overheard you talking to Grimm. The context? I will leave it to your imagination. But poor Epel was stunned. So you were a girl. He's kind of upset that you didn't tell him but what can he do. Now he's having mixed feelings too because it was understandable that you had a feminine face. But he's alone in it, again.
He does treat you with more respect. His mom didn't raise him like some beast, and if she caught wind of how he's been treating you...yikes. But what she doesn't know wouldn't hurt her. Does get more protective of you as well. He's on guard when he sees other students talking to you or when guys approach you. This is his chance to prove how reliable and a gentleman he can be. Essentially takes up the big brother role.
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reblogs are appreciated!
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shadebloopnik · 1 month
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Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.
Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.
Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.
He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-
So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.
It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.
He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.
Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.
But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.
So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.
Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."
Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.
What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????
"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.
But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.
"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."
Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.
Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.
"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"
Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.
Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??
(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)
Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.
"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."
He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.
So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.
Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.
But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.
Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.
Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.
They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.
As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.
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antimony-medusa · 10 months
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Okay this is 100% discourse, so maybe avert your eyes if you don't want to see me wail at the heavens, but for a fandom so anxious about boundaries, we haven't actually been very good in practice at respecting the actual stated boundaries the streamers put down, and I think it shows what we're actually policing, which is not things to make the streamers comfortable, it's stuff to make us comfortable.
This ranges from inventing new boundaries for people (you can't use neopronouns for ranboo, their pronouns are he/they; there's no boundaries on dark content for streamers so obviously we have to invent and enforce dark sbi rules ourselves) and then harassing people based on those boundaries that we just made up, to ignoring the actual things that the streamers said if we don't agree with them (cc!dream said he was uncomfortable with gore art back during the revolutionary war/exile but he's a villain, right, so we can just do whatever we want with the character, right?) and just doing whatever we want.
This is a recurring problem, with people violently policing boundaries that the fandom has all agreed on, to the point of doxxing and harassment and death threats, and ignoring boundaries that they have decided "don't make sense".
Like here's the example I put in the tags earlier, which is Technoblade related. Everyone knows that family dynamic is great and shipping is a no-go, right? But if you actually go looking for the clips, (or listen to streams in the background recursively while you're doing other things), you'll find that what Technoblade said about shipping was that it was "kinda cringe" (I think the list of things he said was cringe included reading percy jackson books and talking like you're better at video games than you actually are), and he was MUCH stronger in saying that he didn't like family dynamic in canon, saying that he didn't like it, that it was non-canon, and he'd never betray his family like that.
But if you look at the entire "found family" tag on Ao3, 19,860 stories, Technoblade is tagged into 29% of them. That's 5,760 fics just blowing right past what Technoblade said. Boom. Taking that character from his political anarchist setting and setting him right down in a royalty au w. younger siblings.
Because obviously a family dynamic isn't actually going to hurt someone's feelings or make them feel weird, the fandom has agreed, so what he must mean was that saying that family dynamic was actual literal canon is the only bad thing (I have been clotheslined by family dynamic written into stuff tagged as "canon compliant" multiple times as well,) and we can continue with the fun family stuff, right? Because someone saying they don't like family dynamic doesn't make Sense, in the way that I like it, the fandom has agreed, so we can just ignore that clip. Honestly I think that a ton of people have no idea that Technoblade ever said anything negative about family dynamic, because that clip is never brought out or talked about. I literally only know about it because I've watched that stream.
Meanwhile, the much less firmly stated boundary when it comes to shipping is absolutely doubled down on and brought out to justify mobbing people off the internet, because everyone already knows that shipping is bad and terrible and tainted and horrible to do and we don't like it, so even the slightest indication that it's out has to be grabbed and used to police people. So that everyone can be very to sure themselves that what they're doing is not weird, and the streamers are okay with it, and if I showed them my fic they'd say they liked it.
They're not going to give the Ok to your fic, because the fic isn't FOR them, and it shouldn't be. It's for the other weird fans who can't stop thinking about the block men characters, it's not for the actors. The actors have their own lives, leave them alone.
To be clear, I am not saying that we should stop writing family dynamic to respect Technoblade's feelings. Among other things, I don't think he's checking his character tag on Ao3 right now. But like, I've talked before about the way that boundaries culture ends up working in practice, and how constantly bringing problems up to streamers just ends up showing them all the things that are the most weird to the streamer. You only have to look at what most of Benchtrio has done in terms of boundaries, which has been transitioning from very explict boundaries with details on everything to just saying "just use your manners," stopping answering questions, and telling people to actually think about what they're showing the streamer instead of expecting someone to weigh in on it for them.
But even when it comes to the boundaries that we do have, that we know about, the way people enforce them seems to be less about actually respecting what the creators like, and more about making sure we're morally pure and never have to see something that we personally don't like, and we don't happen to have any of that nasty boys kissing content in our work, because we all know that's terrible. (And as someone who's seen crackdowns on LGBTQIA content several times, that certainly has unfortunate overtones.)
As long as it's all kept away from the creators, I really think that fluffy cuddly family dynamic and kissing fic and hardcore whump all falls into the category of "not for the creators, they might find that one weird, but you do you". Like keep it away from the streamers, use your brain, but like, it's all a bit weird and for fun. Let it be weird and for fun in a secluded part of the internet, keep it away from the streamers, tag your shit for people who don't want to see it, and go to town.
So just like, I really think that "creator boundaries" should be more about using your brain as to what you show the streamer, and less about harassing someone off the internet cause they drew kissing art.
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star-sparkler · 9 months
Text
Gathered up a bunch of August and Papatello info dumping I did yesterday on tweeter. Some was in reply to thoughtful or excited insight from others. I just love them so much OTL
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Mikey: [googling] Wait Augustine means "great, magnificent"?
Donnie: [without missing a beat] Correct.
Leo: You....you named your daughter GREAT AND MAGNIFICENT...?
Donnie: Is she not?
Raph: I mean she is but-
Leo: You Cloned YOURSELF. And named your clone GREAT AND MAGNIFICENT-
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Donnie and the family absolutely stop referring to August as or joking about her being a/the clone when she's still a baby. Once her personality starts to develop it's so clear she's her own person deserving of individual respect so that doesn't belong on the table. Donnie never hides that August was cloned / how she was made (and August takes pride in being cloned from her Papa who she admires and loves so much - NO ONE is smarter than her Papa, thank you VERY much!) but the clone word is Never used to put her down or belittle her or deprive her of full personhood. If anyone did refer to her specifically as Donnie's clone rather than Donnie's daughter it would absolutely be uncomfortable and kind of sting her. In cousin AUs, how August was created might cause her a little insecurity because she was the "unplanned science experiment gone 'wrong'" in her mind when she's feeling down but no one in her family has ever or would ever consider her that. Donnie boasts that she's his greatest creation (Next to Shelldon, obviously - I don't talk about his role as much but he's just as much Donnie's kid as August, he's just older and pretty self-sufficient by the time August shows up). August and Donnie mutually see their papa-daughter connection as a uniquely special one and enjoy/take pride in sharing it with each other. ;w; <3
Oh my gosh Donnie loves his daughter more than he can handle yES. He would be heartbroken if he ever found out she harboured thoughts like that [being a freaky science experiment mistake forced upon him] and likely go overboard doing his best to assure her in every way he can that he chooses her every millisecond of every day. August would get smothered in gifts and surprises and words of affirmation until it became overwhelming and she demanded he stop. But he'd still be extra attentive and aware of it afterwards.
I don't think August being a clone would be common knowledge outside the family - most would likely assume she has a biological second parent - but if for some reason she ever was teased about it and the fam found out there would be some serious glare intimidation and Very Big Words with the perpetrator's parents
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It's important to me that August is treated like her own person independent of her family while also being a valued member of it. Of course Donnie is still going to lay down Dad Law but August's feelings and personhood are taken seriously and treated with respect. It likely helps a LOT that August is normally a pretty well-behaved kid but Donnie does an IMMENSE AMOUNT OF RESEARCH on parenting and babies when he decides to keep August and I think, by the time he's an adult, gentle parenting is something he would do well with. Will he still lose his temper or get impatient? Absolutely. But they both do their best to meet each other half way and ALWAYS apologize and address miscommunications or outbursts after they've cooled off. Neither likes being mad at the other. From his experiences with Shelldon, Donnie would know that just yelling at someone "because I said so" doesn't work and only hurts both of them to punish without August Fully Understanding Why she's being told no or being disciplined. I would say he's strict but fair. This gets tricky when she gets up to mischief but he recognizes her acting out is usually out of boredom / lack of stimulation / genuinely not realizing what she’s doing is ‘bad’ rather than maliciousness, and if he's clear in his explanations of why something is inappropriate then August is (usually) very receptive and respectful (unless she sniffs out a flaw in his armor - like their unspoken game of her trying to hack into his lab / certain files and him letting it happen sometimes because it's a good practice and mental challenge for her).
I also rly love August and Donnie bringing out the best in each other, both because of how similar they are AND because of how their differences can sometimes elevate, compliment, and teach each other. ;w; <333 It's not always easy to be a dad or a kid, but there's always, always love, and they actively seek out ways to express that and stay aware of each others' wavelengths even when (ESPECIALLY when) one of them is struggling or they aren't lining up.
I love Donnie having someone he can share his special interests with and who Gets Him and can Relate to how his brain works and struggles and shines. It's definitely such a blessing to have someone like that in your life. ToT
PS - I don’t normally explicitly state it because I worry about not being able to write it well enough but when others clock the neurodivergency in August I just [fist clench, manly tears] I’m rly glad it’s reading. Because writing her that way is definitely intentional.
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August gets her own ninpo but it's still a secret right now UwU <3 She WILL however find it difficult to use, yeah. August spends so much time trying to be like her family that she struggles to find Herself amidst powerful giants and that definitely impacts how her ninpo manifests. At first it's unreliable and changes what it is sporadically, refusing to choose what it is. So although she unlocks it much younger than the boys unlocked theirs, she's unable to reliably use it until she's older. To compensate, she spends a lot of time learning how to use different weapons/ninja skills and hand-to-hand combat so she can still be effective even when her ninpo is on the fritz / struggling to find it's own shape. ;v;
Her best not-direct-family buddy is little CJ of the good timeline! They're around the same age and get on thick as thieves. Lots of hockey and junior vigilante-ing and goofing around. Also also->
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He would solidly go as "CJ" and is still Casey Sr's son. I imagine him being like kind of a mix of Rise movie Casey Jr. and 2012 Casey when he's older. A little louder and more gremlin than movie CJ cause he didn't grow up in an APOCALYPSE and is fully raised by Casey Sr, but still possessing plenty of the heart and heroics. Timid when he's younger though. Very
Augs: Excuse me, he asked for NO PICKLES
CJ: 🥺[shyly letting August take the lead, holding the hem of his own shirt]
Very old art incoming->
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👾🦋
Anyway yeah I love August and Paptello (And CJ!)
332 notes · View notes
blubffsd · 1 year
Text
— WORLDS COLLIDE.
summary: It's the world cup final, your boyfriend and his national team reached the final again. But this time he's playing against your country.
note: play "The Great War" by Taylor Swift if you wanna a better experience.
thank you so much @http-isabela for make this with me, this is yours too girl 😋😋
warnings: a lot of drama.
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Mia is in the bathroom of the hotel room looking at the shirt she is wearing. It's the France jersey, with the number 10 on the back and her boyfriend's last name too. At another time she would have been proud to wear it, but now she feels uncomfortable. She knows she doesn't want to use it.
This event and football itself is very important to her boyfriend and it's also important to her. Not only because of Kylian, her whole family has always been related to this sport and her father was a player too.
Her boyfriend's parents and his little brother are in the room too, they're all totally excited and all they're talking about is who could win the match. Obviously they are sure that France will be the winner and they really want it to be so. But Mia can't say the same.
She leave the bathroom under the gaze of Fayza, who noticed her strange behavior today, but didn't want to tell her anything. Mia walk over and sit next to Ethan, and he rests his head on her shoulder.
—Hey, I don't think I should go, I'm very nauseous and I don't think that going to the game gonna be the best, what if it's a virus or something contagious?
—Oh, please. –Ethan laughed– what you have is called nerves, you're afraid to see Kylian play, I understand you.
The fear is actually seeing Kylian win.
—Come on, Mia. Don't be negative, you'll see that we'll do very well –this time it was Fayza who spoke to her trying to calm her down.
—I can even see the photo of us kissing the cup just like in 2018 –her brother-in-law hugs her by the shoulders.
Why does everyone assume she wants France to win? Mia doesn't know what to do or say, she wants to think of something else so they will believe her and leave her alone in the room, but she knows they won't allow that. Kylian needs her there to feel good, but this time she doesn't want to support him.
Mia stays in the room with her boyfriend's family until it's time to go to the stadium. She leaves the hotel knowing that what is about to happen is not going to be easy.
And that what happened in 2018 is going to happen again, no matter which country she support.
As she walk into the stadium her boyfriend is on the pitch warming up with his national team, he's pretty determined to win today. His ambition doesn't let him think about anything other than the possibility of raising the cup a second time and fulfilling his dream again. On the other hand, her love for her country, her father and the sport doesn't let her think about anything other than seeing Lio win the cup, even if it means that her boyfriend loses.
Mia had even seen several comments on instagram posts from people who expected her to support her boyfriend's country, since it was the place where she lived now. Even several Kylian fans had sent her messages threatening her to support him and not her country.
Mia knows that this isn't a normal football match, it could say that the pride of two countries was being played. And that both the Argentines and the French expected her to support their respective countries. The Argentines because it's her country of birth and she is the daughter of one of the most beloved football players in the country, and even Messi's former coach, also because of the good relationship she has with some players and their families, and the French because she is the girlfriend of their biggest star and they don't want her to distract him.
She feels like everyone is waiting to see what she does but even she doesn't know what she wants to do.
Mia knows that she doesn't want to support her boyfriend's country, she knows that she feels like a black sheep sitting on the side of France and she also knows that now all the Argentine media are attacking her, like in 2018.
Mia knows everything that is happening and everything that she is feeling right now but she doesn't know how to act in the face of it. And it's not very easy to think about that when she has a camera in her face as she sit next to Ethan in the stands, knowing that her dad will be disappointed at the moment he sees her in the Kylian jersey.
Behind Mia are her in-laws sitting, with Jirès and Melissa and on the other side Hakimi and Hiba, who don't stop talking about how very proud she must feel to be about to see her boyfriend be world champion for the second time.
Everything that was happening around her is making Mia very nervous, it won't be long before the game starts and she knows that there are many people in the stands recording her to prove or deny that she is supporting Kylian just by seeing her reactions.
All the people sitting around her supporting her boyfriend are talking but she doesn't really pay attention until she hear her name.
—Right, Mia? –Jirès is looking at her waiting for her answer.
—Sorry, I didn't hear you, what?
—Your father was a player for the Argentine national team, right? –Mia nod– and he never made it to any world finals, right?
—No, but he won World Cups in Argentina as a coach.
She doesn't know why he asked her that, but it made her feel bad. Mia feels Melissa's gaze on her, so she turns to look at her and see her mocking face.
—The good thing is that now you are with a true champion.
What did she just say?
What did she mean by "a true champion"? Was it a roundabout way of saying that my dad was a failure or something? Or did she just want to praise Kylian and chose the wrong words?
Mia wants to believe that it wasn't malicious, but Melissa's expectant gaze on her, waiting for some reaction on her part, makes things clear to her. And she weren't going to let her humiliate her dad like that.
She is about to say something she'll regret later, but Ethan interrupt her saying that the game is about to start.
When the game started and she saw the Argentina players touch the ball, she remembered the times her dad took her to see him at his games or training sessions, the way he told her how proud he was to be able to say that he played for his country, and how he always taught her that she never have to forget where she came from or the difficult situations she went through, because that's who she is.
Mia remembered all the conversations that he and she used to have, everything they used to do before she moved to France, before everything changed.
She can't screw it all up again, so she gets up from her seat to do what she wanted to do since she arrived in Qatar: cheer on her country.
Mia knows that there are many French fans recording her while she sings "Muchachos" or other songs supporting Argentina, she is aware of all the signs that her brothers-in-law, her in-laws and her boyfriend's friends have given her to sit down and shut up, but honestly at this moment she cares in the least.
After a while of shouting to the beat of the Argentine fans, she sits down while she feels the disapproving looks of her boyfriend's family. They are looking at are so badly that it really makes her uncomfortable, but she tries to ignore it.
This is the moment that she and her father had waited all their lives and what they think didn't affect her joy and her desire to support Argentina at all.
The atmosphere in the box is tense after Mia have supported Argentina with the France shirt on, she were too brave to do that.
But obviously everything got worse.
Mia feels how her breathing paused, the whistle blows, it's a penalty kick for Argentina.
Everyone around her is too deep in their own mind to notice her happy face.
The person in charge of kicking the penalty is obviously Lio, she does't know how it happened, the only thing she saw was the ball going through the net of the French goal.
Her body acts on its own at this point. Lio scored the first goal of the game, she gets up from her seat shouting with happiness like the rest of the Argentines.
Right now she doesn't care that she is wearing the France jersey, that Ethan is next to her, or that her boyfriend can see her. Nothing matters now.
Ethan took her arm with a lot of force making her sit again.
—What's happening to you? You're crazy, don't do that again. –her brother-in-law looks at her angrily, with a frown and a glare.
—Ethan let me go, you're hurting me –she raised her voice so he can hear.
But he ignores her words, so in a sudden movement she let go of his grip, seeing that he left the mark of his hand on her arm.
—How dare you support Argentina and then celebrate their goals? You have my brother's number jersey on your back.
—Calm down Ethan, I couldn't help it.
It's my fucking country that scored, what you do expect me to do? Cry?
—Don't do it again.
Mia is about to answer but Hiba grabs her shoulders stopping as a sign to shut up, so she did.
—Enough both of you, silence. Don't make a fuss here. Ethan, relax, please. –Hakimi intervenes this time seeing the tension between the two of them.
—I can't calm down, she's celebrating that we're losing. –he turns to see Achraf and then back to Mia.– What's wrong with you?
She knew this was going to happen and she couldn't be more sorry she went to the game.
—Ethan, please. It was an impulse, let's focus on the game, there are cameras everywhere. –says Hiba trying to end the discussion.
Ethan looks at Mia for the last time and she prefer to remain silent.
She turns to see Hiba and smile at her, as a sign of gratitude for having calmed the situation, but she just nods.
After 13 minutes where Argentina has absolute possession of the ball, Di María scores the second goal of the match.
Mia rises from her seat again, whooping with excitement, as she watches the players from her country hug each other.
This time no one stopped her.
The only thing she thinks about is her father, who could never win the world cup when he was playing, knowing that right now he is probably shedding happy tears at home, almost feeling the cup in his hands.
When her excitement fades a bit, she sit down again, then Ethan tosses her jacket onto her lap, the jacket that's been on his since they sat down. Mia looks at him confused.
—You're a fucking traitor –he yells close to her face.
Wilfried puts his hand on Ethan's chest, pulling him back away from her.
—Stop son, don't do that.
Mia keep seeing his angry face, she never seen him like this.
—You don't deserve the shirt with my last name on your back –he yells even louder.
She feels how her pulse quickens.
—Kylian deserves more from you, it can't be that you don't support him when he needs you the most –Hiba brings her face closer to Mia whispering– Stop doing stupid things, you're crazy. You're wearing Kylian's jersey and sitting next to his family as you clap for the enemy.
Enemy? It's my country, my people, my father and his dream, it's all my life.
—Have respect for him.
Mia doesn't know what to answer so she looks back at the field.
The first half passed, with a 2-0 result with Argentina winning. She is all the time with her eyes fixed on the field, she doesn't have enough courage to look at someone.
Now Mia is sitting between Hakimi and Ethan, both of them mad at her.
She is deep in her thoughts, she doesn't know what to do, her father will be devastated if he sees her supporting France and Kylian will be more than disappointed if he sees her continue supporting Argentina.
It feels like two worlds about to collide, her life in Argentina and her life in France. Her father and the people she loves against her partner and everyone around them. Both sides expect her to be with them.
She doesn't notice that the players have returned to the field until she hear the whistle of the referee starting the second half of the game.
The match continues with France without scoring a goal, the players already a bit tired and making fouls.
But the time came, a player falls in the Argentine area after a push from Otamendi, the referee whistles indicating the penalty.
Kylian is going to kick it.
Mia feels her body tense, everything in her wishing he would miss the penalty. She closes her eyes feeling guilty about her thoughts.
Seconds later she hears everyone around her scream with excitement, she opened her eyes and saw all the French people celebrate, Ethan, Hakimi, Hiba, Wilfried, Fayza, Jirès and Melissa scream and hug each other with excitement.
Mia and Ethan make contact for the first time after the fight, his eyes teary from the excitement and joy of his brother's goal. Joy she doesn't feel.
Her eyes go to the field, looking for Kylian. She realizes that he was already looking at her, pointing at her, dedicating the goal to her. She smiles slightly, feeling completely guilty.
The celebration ended, just a minute after scoring the first goal, Kylian scored the second.
Her body completely tenses up, her breathing stops for a few seconds, it's the same feeling as when she was 8 years old and she saw her dad lose a game. Maybe he feels the same now.
Mia wants to cry and run away, she can't be there.
Everyone around her shouts with joy, Kylian on the field hugs his teammates.
Once the celebration is over, Kylian turns his gaze towards her, her eyes met his. She can't take it anymore and she let out a sob, covering her face with her hands.
—Are you seriously crying? –she looks up and sees Achraf, looking at her with anger and disappointment. Mia tries to say something, but no words come out of her mouth.
The rest of the game was intense, Argentina scored another goal, wanting to avoid another fight, she just lowered her head, put her hands together and mentally thanked for the goal.
Not long after, Kylian tied the game for the second time. Making a goal that, in addition to achieving his hat-trick, would change everything.
Ethan is excited, shouting and celebrating, telling Kylian from afar that he is the best, that he is incredible.
The last minutes of the game were the worst.
Dybala took the ball from Kylian, preventing the tiebreaker at the last minute, making her boyfriend yell in frustration.
The game ended and the penalties came, the players and the referees are preparing for what is to come.
Mia takes her jacket and head to the bathroom, she needs to calm down a bit and be alone. Ethan didn't take his eyes off her until he saw her disappear into the crowd.
Once inside the bathroom she takes a deep breath trying to control her breathing, everything around her is spinning, she is about to have a panic attack.
Mia grabs her phone as fast as she can and send a message to the only person who can help her right now.
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Mia tries to take big breaths to calm her thoughts but she can't. Ethan hates her right now. Hakimi and Hiba are upset with her. She doesn't feel comfortable there at all.
Mia wants someone to understand at least one of her reasons for supporting her country. Although she knows that the simple fact of being her country was enough. But there is much more than that.
She hears someone knock on the bathroom door.
—Is occupied –her voice is shaking.
—Miss Mia? Mrs. Antonella sent us, she said that she spoke with you recently.
She opened the bathroom door to find two security men, both of whom gave her a slight smile and guided her to the opposing team's box.
Mia manage to calm her breathing and her mind on the way to the box, knowing that she would no longer have to deal with the disapproving looks reassured her a lot.
She finally arrive and see Antonella waiting for her, she rushes over to hug her.
—Tranquilizate, ¿sí? No pasa nada –she says while stroking her hair– Ya está.
Mia nods her head and give her a small smile.
—Decime entonces, ¿qué pasó? (so tell me, what's happened?) –she sees the concern on her face.
—No me siento cómoda allá, no me puedo hacer la triste (i don't feel comfortable there, i can't pretend to be sad) –she laugh a little– no quiero volver (i don't wanna comeback there)
Anto smiled at Mia again.
—Bueno vení, vamos a ponerte otra cosa, que te van a decir mufa acá si te ven con eso puesto. (Well come on, we're going to give you another shirt, because if they see you with that shirt they're going to tell you that you're bad luck.)
Antonella goes to the box to look through her things and returns with an Argentina shirt with the number 24.
—No tenía ninguna yo, así que le pedí a las chicas y la novia de Enzo te prestó esa (I didn't have any t-shirt, so i asks the girls and Enzo's girlfriend lent you that one.) –she gives her the shirt and guides her to the bathroom.
Mia walks into the bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror. She knows that if she changes her shirt she betray her boyfriend and that everything would get worse, but she doesn't care.
She leaves the bathroom with the Argentina shirt on and she feels more comfortable and safe being on that side of the stands.
Just as Mia sit down next to Antonella, the referee blows his whistle indicating to Kylian that he should take the first penalty. He kicks and scores, the entire audience celebrates with him. He looks happy.
—Silence –Anto laugh– My husband is going to kick.
Everyone wait for Lio to kick with sweaty hands and heart to the fullest, ready for anything. Antonella was the first to shout the goal, being imitated by all. They all hug each other. Mia hugs Mateo, completely moved.
The next penalty was missed, Dibu Martinez saved it. The silence from the French audience was chilling. Argentina for its part celebrates and praises its goalkeeper. Happiness overflows her.
Her phone was ringing with messages from your father, full of emotion about what is happening. Mia feels her teary eyes, his dream is coming true.
She hears Antonella call out to you and point to the field, Kylian is grabbing Enzo by the jersey. Antoine and Olivier try to calm the situation, while Di María and Cuti Romero keep Enzo away from her boyfriend.
Mia sees Kylian's angry face while Enzo was talking to him, surely provoking him, he points in her direction. She feels her skin crawl when Kylian turns to where she is and looks at her and her shirt.
Enzo doesn't stop with the taunts, she doesn't know what he's saying, but he keeps pointing at her until Oliviar punches him in the face.
Security intervenes and separates them, but her eyes are fixed on Kylian, who didn't move from his place, looking at her from afar, his eyes reflecting pain.
The people around her yell in anger at the interruption of penalties.
Her phone vibrates in her hand, making she looks away from Kylian.
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She stares at her phone for a few seconds, feeling a slight pain in her chest.
Mia gets up from her seat without wanting to attract anyone's attention and lock herself in the bathroom, quite overwhelmed by everything that's happening, and not wanting to face whatever it's going to happen.
She looks at her in the mirror while she thinks about everything that will happen when this is over, she doesn't know what will happen, but she knows that it will not be good.
She hears everyone nearby yelling and you open the bathroom door to find out that Argentina just won.
All hugging and crying with joy.
Her dad's dream came true, the dream that made her wait for him for more than one birthday, the dream that made her dad not go to the hospital when you were born, the dream that forced her to love football to spend time with her dad.
The moment she has been waiting for her whole life has just arrived. And she wants to cry with happiness, her dad is surely the happiest man on earth and she is happy with that. Although she would have liked him to have been just as happy on her birthdays, or everytime he was with her.
Mia leaves the bathroom coming back to reality, all the happiness she felt a second ago gone. She is thinking about Kylian now, she needs to talk to him and try to explain something to him, if she can, but she knows that he won't want to and that no one is going to let her get close.
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Mia feels the tears running down her cheeks, everything she said really hurt her, mostly what she said about her dad, but she can't blame her, although it hurts, she's right after all.
She puts on her jacket, the same one that Ethan had thrown at her completely angrily a few hours ago, and she goes to the exit of the stadium.
She takes the first taxi she finds and go to the hotel, she quickly goes to her room once she arrived and put her things away as fast as she could.
She takes the first shirt she finds and take off Enzo's to put that one on.
She looks for the fastest flight to Paris and buy tickets for the first one available.
She has to go.
She can't see Kylian, she can't look him in the eye.
She brokes his trust in her.
His brothers hates her
His father looks at her with contempt.
His friends do the same, reminding her that everything she did was wrong.
She rushes her steps in the lobby to leave the hotel as soon as possible, she takes another taxi, this time bound for the airport.
She ruined everything, like in 2018.
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note: i really tried my best this time lol
tags: @suzysface @mrswhitethornbelikov
1K notes · View notes
rat-rambles · 22 days
Text
Ok Alastor shippers of all sorts, I'm going to put in my two cents and before I get into I'm a pro shipper all around just don't be mean to each other and tags are there for a reason.
My credentials: I'm an gray ace, aro person who's been around Fandom a very long time. Personally I've been initiated with the “but al is ace aro so you can't ship him” discourse and first off that's not true both because we can date -I Have a long term Partner- and because I've explored a lot of my queer identity through Fandom and fanfics and I think others should get the chance to do the same. I'm sure a lot of people will learn they’re ace aro because of alastor. That being said ik a lot of you writers out there aren't ace aro and are new to the topic so I'm going to go over some of my personal suggestions of how you could make Canon compliant works. (And if you do any or find any please send to me I'd love to see it)
Oblivious Alastor
Canonically this man doesn't know he's an ace in the hole. And I don't believe an egomaniac like him would assume that there's anything “different” about himself. ik when I was a baby ace I thought everyone was just being dramatic basically before realizing I was the exception. I can see this going 2 ways.
Radiostatic (pre show): vox is obviously completely smitten with al and al sees dating a more powerful overlord as an advantage(which vox in the past was the more powerful of the two). And Al starts getting slowly more and more uncomfortable and vox gets pushy in a very manipulative way.
Radioapple: enemies to friends to lovers? After Al and Luci become close friends, Luci starts to catch feelings for Al and Al agrees to date him seeing as he is fond of him and he's a very powerful ally so why wouldn't Al date him? As the relationship progresses they’re both confused by Alastor's behavior. Luci tries to be respectful. You know maybe he's just very against pda. And al doesnt understand why he's not feeling the things he's meant to.
I can see Al reverse heteronormativity- ing his way into assuming he's gay because he's NOT straight.
Malicious intent
Same as the last one except Al knows he doesn't have feelings for them like that and is trying to be toxic and uses them. IE what if Al was a gold digger actually.
Maybe I am in love?
Al actually thinks that he MUST be feeling a romantic connection because this is the closest he's ever been to someone and once again, gets steadily more confused as he realizes what he and his partner are experiencing is different.
All of these can end in nice queer platonic bliss and I think any story where Al and his partner discover he's ace after establishing the relationship is inherently interesting.
Last note some ace vocabulary
Ace and aro are a spectrum. Typically with ace people they will self identify as either sex positive, sex negative, or sex neutral. With Al it's generally head cannoned that he's sex negative but that's not explicitly Cannon and sex positive and neutral aces are valid.
Sex negative: is self explanatory it's what everyone thinks aces are; I don't want sex ever the idea grosses me out ect.
Sex neutral: is when someone doesn't have the desire for sex but isn't repulsed by it either. If they are in a relationship and their partner wants to have sex they’re open to it but don't expect initiation on their part.
Sex positive: people have a hard time understanding this because it's the seperating of the need for sex from the want. Typically if a sex positive ace were to never have sex again they'd die happy but if they have a willing partner they are happy to participate. It builds intimacy. It feels good, it's nice but it's not the same as being allo and having that cardinal lust.
note: please know what type your head cannoning Al as in your works when writing it, although people of course can change which they feel they align with, it's important to know how he's feeling about it.
I'm not as familiar with aro terminology but like with ace it's more about the drive the need the anguish. Al wouldn’t in cannon crave romantic connection.
Like with ace it's not actually cannon what type of aro he is some aro people are completely repulsed by the idea of romantic relationships or they only like it in theory (which playing around with the idea of Al liking a relationship in theory but not in practice could be a lot of fun.)
The gray romantic umbrella are aro people who can have romantic attraction to some degree. They’re still aro you can head cannon Al as it but please do a little research into which one you think your version of Al would identify with there quite a few so I'll spare the list here.
Demi romantic is when someone can develop romantic attraction for very specific people, very rarely. These people won't be on Bumble but might fall for someone after knowing them for a few years (or an indeterminate amount of time, my timeline was a year and a half I shit you not) a lot of you are looking for that.
As for kink. Lots of queer people especially are into kink because it's intimate, it's physical, it requires trust but it's not actually inherently sexual a lot of the time. And we do know that Al likes torturing and being dominant so yeah he'd be kinky that's completely canon compliant.
At the end of the day Al is ace aro in the show and that's what counts. Have fun be creative, explore the depths of your queer little minds and please be nice to each other.
(and if any of you make works related to this please please please send them to me thanks)
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namazunomegami · 1 month
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Atonement
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Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader
Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.
CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie
WC: 5.3k
Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕
Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.
A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.
Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕
Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork
It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.
Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.
Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.
“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.
He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.
Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.
“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”
Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.
“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.
“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”
You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.
“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”
This… was a bit too far, you must admit.
You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.
“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”
A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.
“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”
You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.
“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”
You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.
Hold on…
You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.
Did he just… no, it can’t be.
He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.
But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.
It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.
“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”
“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”
Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.
“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”
You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.
But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.
“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”
The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.
You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.
“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”
His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.
This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.
“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”
A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.
“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”
His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.
The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.
“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”
You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.
“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”
Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.
“This is not your cross to bear.”
He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.
“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”
He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.
Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.
Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.
“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”
All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.
I’ll keep an eye on you.
It’ll keep an eye on you.
You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.
“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”
You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.
“I promise.”
You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.
You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.
You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.
“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.
“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.
“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”
Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.
“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.
And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.
In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.
The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.
There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.
You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.
“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.
“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”
And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.
The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.
And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.
This is what real worship looks like.
When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.
He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.
“Since when were you so reckless?”
His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.
“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.
Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.
You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.
The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.
And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.
You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.
“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.
And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.
Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.
You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.
But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.
You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.
He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.
Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.
But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.
You’re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.
“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.
Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.
And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.
“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”
No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.
“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.
There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.
“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.
His words cause anger to bubble up in you.
“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.
“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”
It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.
“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.
“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.
Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.
“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.
“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”
He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.
“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.
Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.
His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.
His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.
“And what do we say when we apologize?”
The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.
“Forgive me.”
You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.
Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.
His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.
He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.
And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.
“I forgive you.”
Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.
He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.
“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”
“I know. But you love me all the same.”
You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.
Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.
But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.
And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.
“Is your hand alright?”
He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.
He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.
And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.
You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.
“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.
“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.
“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”
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wispscribbles · 1 month
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hi i just discovered your beautiful art so i obviously needed to scroll down your whole blog to catch up on everything you posted haha
i just wanted to say that i got way too emotional after reading that post of yours regarding mw3 and your mental health… on one hand i’m so sorry that you felt that way, but on the other i feel it with my whole heart
ghoap content especially for me helped me these past few months with my mental health in ways i would never have expected, it was my solace and inspiration, i started working out too and got back into drawing, got a lot better at it as well!
but unfortunately i get way too fixated on fictional stuff and there comes a time that my brain switches up and connects the things i liked and comforted me with things that make me extremely uncomfortable and stressed out, especially if i fall down a fandom rabbit hole that i would never have searched up, beacuse i know myself, i know my limits and triggers but i feel like i’m not a part of the fandom if i don’t like and interact with every single headcanon, art and ship
these past days i was really down because of that, and the things i read (why did i do that???) and now when i think of ghoap i think of that stuff and im scared that i alienated myself from the one thing that made me happy
but discovering your art and with that your post reminded me that im not alone in these feelings, even if it’s not the same exactly, and i wanted to thank you, for sharing your thoughts that time i guess haha <33
((sorry for rambling))
Long reply under 'keep reading' !! CW: talk of triggers and MCD
Always feel free to ramble my way!!! How nice you could find some comfort in my art and ghoap stuff. Especially in my mw3 post. I've been considering deleting it a few times, but hearing it maybe helped to read in some way makes me happy I left it up.
I get where you're coming from - I very much use these fictional characters as a safe space, but ppl view them very differently. There's room for it all, "don't like, don't interact" is very much a policy I agree with. It's important to mute words and be aware of your own triggers as you browse stuff in this fandom, because there's such a wide variety of stuff out there. You do NOT have to interact and agree with every thought people have on this ship, that's impossible and super stressful. There's plenty of stuff and headcanons I don't vibe with. There are no 'requirements' that you have to meet in order to enjoy fiction.
It's part of why I enjoy ghoap - that their dynamic resonates and has sparked so much creativity and outlets for so many - but it also means there's gonna be a lot of stuff u don't necessarily agree with or feel comfortable with. For example, a lot of folks use the MCD in mw3 as a way to explore grief, which I think is really cool, but on a bad day that could potentially get my brain in a bad headspace, so I only check out that art and those fics when I feel okay. There's also a bunch of stuff I'd never want to interact with, and that’s fine !!
I'm personally quite vanilla and a sucker for exploring the softer, more domestic aspects of these characters. It's what brings me joy. I know there are parts of this fandom who don’t vibe with what I make at all, and would call it untrue to the characters. Some creators enjoy exploring the more violent or toxic sides to the source material. That's just how it is, we all need different things from fiction. As long as we're capable of chilling in our respective sandboxes, then all's good.
But if you're like me, and enjoy the softer things, then definitely be aware and careful while exploring this ship and fandom. I've seen takes on these characters that are so far removed from how I view them, that they're basically the complete opposite, and it can leave a very bad taste, especially if you're the type to hinge your safe space on fiction.
Just... be mindful of yourself and your potential triggers, be respectful and don't interact with things that make you uncomfortable to the point of feeling unsafe. Shape your own online experience to your best ability.
Hope you're doing okay and still find joy in ghoap <3
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shepherds-of-haven · 1 month
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Hi Lena! I remember Chase referring to MC as their 'guaranteed ace in the hole' or something along those lines before they headed out on the bog adventure (sorry, I've forgotten the exact name of the town they get to) - how would the RO's react to a MC who gets uncomfortable when referred to as a fail-safe / guaranteed win / trump card kind of thing, or if MC pulled them to one side and asked them not to say things like that because they weren't comfortable with it / feel they might jinx it? Thanks for all your hard work, the game is amazing!
Hi there, thanks for your question, it's an interesting one!
Blade: I think he would be disconcerted to hear this from MC, and while outwardly agreeing not to say anything like that in the future, he'd feel guilty and conscious of having made them feel the burden of responsibility and over-relying on them too much, so he's probably be a bit distant towards them afterwards (trying to be considerate by not relying too heavily on them/putting pressure on them, which could come off as coldness)
Trouble: "oh shit, sorry, I didn't think about that. But I don't think it'd jinx it, you're MC after all! But I get it, I'll try not to say anything like that again." I think if it were about MC's discomfort, he'd feel a bit guilty, but also like he wished they saw what he saw in them, this total confidence and faith, but he'd ultimately respect their wishes and try not to do anything like it again. If it was more of a superstitious thing, I think he'd challenge them a little bit on it, like "Nah, have more faith in yourself, look at what you did in ____ and _____, after all!" Like trying to hype them up a bit and give them more confidence in a good-intentioned way, which might result in a back-and-forth where he came off as a bit stubbornly asserting his faith in them and wanting them to feel the confidence he feels in them, which could also make MC feel frustrated, like he's not getting it. Ultimately he'd concede and drop the subject, but feel a bit troubled about it after, but not in a way that he'd really articulate unless MC brought it up again!
Tallys: I really don't think Tallys would say anything like this to begin with, because she's already conscious of how it might make MC feel and how she would feel if she were in their shoes, so she tends to avoid making statements like this right out of the gate!
Shery: she'd feel horrifically guilty, lol, and she'd apologize to MC profusely over and over and sort of torment herself about it afterwards, like, I'm just another of the people who depend too much on MC, I never even considered their feelings, I'm a selfish person... So she'd definitely feel a bit subdued by this!
Riel: he rarely makes statements like this unless it's a joke/sincere compliment, so he'd be a bit surprised to hear that MC felt that way. But ultimately he'd just accept it, briefly apologize, and then move on, as with any well-intentioned social gaffe. It makes sense to him why MC would feel that way; it would make sense to him why he would have said otherwise. Very straightforward! It would be pretty much business as usual after that--he's glad that they communicated it to him and then doesn't think too much about it afterward unless they seemed really upset!
Chase: I like to think that he's emotionally perceptive enough to avoid making comments like this to an MC who was obviously uncomfortable with it, but YMMV, obviously, since he says it in the game! If they asked him not to, he'd sort of say something like, "Aw, sunshine, I didn't mean anything like that, you know we all think you're the cat's pajamas, that's all, it's not like we expect you to do anything or be perfect" and would try to explore their feelings about it and why they felt that way. Basically he would just try to clear the air or walk things back to make sure they didn't feel that kind of pressure moving forward or understood that he wasn't implying anything by the statement, then encourage them to just live their life without feeling the burden of these expectations. Then he'd move on and try to be more delicate in the future! Ultimately, he'd get it, he can see how being "the Hero of Haven" would be a lot of pressure!
Red: I think he'd quickly apologize, but would want to know more about why MC was feeling that way, what caused that reaction, etc. So he'd be interested in talking about it with them in more depth. He'd feel bad, of course, that he said something that bothered them, but I think his priorities would be more about understanding their perspective and maybe helping them with their discomfort/complex feelings about the whole thing than dwelling on the specific interaction that kicked it all off, if that makes any sense!
Ayla: I think her initial reaction to this would be defensiveness: she'd be a bit annoyed, because praise and compliments already come so rarely from her, especially being vocalized in front of the subject/other people, so to be "corrected" on something that's already difficult for her would be like, "wtf, I was just trying to be nice, I have confidence in you/I'm telling the truth, it's a proven fact that you're remarkable, what's so bad about that?" Kind of like a, Seriously? I'd kill for people to admire me and have faith in me and actually say so, what kind of person is like, 'Hey, I don't like it when you do that.'? And also hurt because she's trying and doing things that are pretty foreign/unusual for her (being vulnerable and sincere, giving praise), so to be 'punished' for that would make her feel like withdrawing. So outwardly she'd be a bit put-off and shirty about it, like "Okay, sorry, I won't say it anymore." *obviously disgruntled, not gracious and understanding* But I think after calming down or hearing someone else advocate for MC (like Briony going, "Well, I get it... can you imagine if you felt this pressure to save the day every time? MC's just a person, after all..."), it would click for her, she'd feel a bit bad about it, but she wouldn't feel the need to pursue it or apologize further and would just comply with MC's wishes moving forward!
Briony: she'd pretty much be the same as Shery, writhing in guilt and feeling horrible that she didn't consider MC's feelings more, but after they talked about it and she profusely apologized the first time, she'd be able to move on so long as it didn't seem like MC held any hard feelings or awkwardness about it! Ultimately she'd be glad they said something and would be extra vigilant both about herself and about correcting others if they happen to say things like that around MC! Like she'd start feeling protective and maybe over-conscious of MC's feelings!
Lavinet: she would be similar to Riel: because she meant it as praise, she would be surprised to hear that they found it off-putting or intimidating, but she would simply apologize and then move on without doing it again; it wouldn't be something she really dwelled on unless it seemed like it was a really big deal to MC, in which case she might discuss it with them intermittently moving forward, wanting to understand the exact feelings and reasons behind their feelings and wanting to encourage them in resolving them!
Halek: he's pretty much in Tallys's camp: because of his position in life, he'd be more conscious of not saying stuff like this in the first place, because he understands the pressure those kinds of expectations come with, even if they're reverent and well-intentioned! If he slipped and said stuff like that as a joke, then was asked by MC not to say it, he'd apologize and commiserate with them, then keep it in mind moving forward, being careful not to do it again!
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vulpisnocturna · 9 months
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Hey, how are you ?:)
I love your writing, it simply makes my day whenever I see a notification from you. 💖
I don't know if you write Madara, buuuut I just read the ex boyfriend Itachi request and I want to ask you the same scenario with him.
If you don't like the idea or if you're uncomfortable with it, I apologize
Hi lovely, I’m all good, I hope you’re doing well :) Thank you so much, means the world 🤍
And of course, Madara’s not my go to but I don’t have any issues writing about him. However, this may be more yandere ish than Itachi’s just because of Madara’s personality and entitlement lmao
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Warnings: yandere Madara, obsessive love, possessiveness, jealousy, emotional manipulation, murder of threats to Madara’s inexistent relationship, toxic ex
I do not condone any of this in real life, this is fiction and purely entertainment. If you are likely to be triggered by any of this, please avoid interacting with this post.
-When he hears you say you want to break up, it doesn’t register. Why would you say something so ridiculous? He can’t compute. He’s imagining things, obviously. There’s no way you’d say that to him. You don’t love him anymore? That’s preposterous. He treats you like a goddamn queen. He’s handsome, rich, buys you everything you want, makes you scream in bed, protects you with his life, he even cleans and cooks for you. Him. Uchiha Madara. Just for you. So it’s not possible. It’s just not-
-Whilst this tirade is going on in Madara’s head, you’ve left. And he hasn’t even had a chance to reply. Now he’s angry. All the heartache he’s feeling, he’s shoving that down and replacing it with anger. How could you do this to him? Leave him when he dedicated his entire life to your happiness? No. No, absolutely not. He’s getting you back, no matter what he has to do.
-He’s too proud to have a conversation with you. He won’t let you see he’s hurting. No, you’ll have to come back to him and say you made a mistake
-He stalks you. Constantly. Tells himself it’s for your safety. After all, only he can protect you. None of your friends are capable of doing that
-He starts by sweet talking your family. He’s always there, talking about how you are on a break, and although he respects your choice, he still misses you and hopes that you are happy. Your family loves him. He’s such a doting man, powerful, from an incredibly good clan, and he clearly loves you. What the hell were you thinking leaving him, y/n?
-Once he’s done that, he goes onto talking to some of your friends. Yes, you are still together, but you’re just on a break. You confront him at some point and say he’s clearly missed the point and you have broken up with him. Madara says he’ll give you some time to think on it. You wouldn’t want to make hasty decisions
-When you start dating another man, the depth of his fury is immense. The next mission he goes on, he’s MIA. Nobody knows what happened to him. Madara comforts you, saying that it’s tragic, but that you shouldn’t have expected someone so weak to survive long in that world. After all, not everyone is like him.
-When it happens to the second man you are with, and Madara shows you proof that he was on a mission on the other side of the country, you can’t take the pain anymore. It’s just horrible to feel that kind of dread all the time with someone else. With Madara, you were never afraid. After all, only Hashirama was stronger than him in the whole world. And he treated you well, you can’t deny that. But he was so jealous and possessive…
-When suddenly you’re on a mission and you’re overpowered, you think you are going to die. But he saves you. And suddenly, you think you see what you once saw in him again. That kind of reliability, the strength, the confidence and the underlying anchoring love that guides his actions. Yes, he’s never stopped loving you. He’s still looking out for you. And maybe, just maybe, you want to be his once again.
-Madara knows he’s nailed it when he sees you walking towards his house. He acts all surprised and asks you if you’re sure, and that of course he loves you and wants to make you happy, but what if you are not? But his plan worked. And you’re happy, and he doesn’t have to race across countries to murder vermin anymore
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lowkeyrobin · 2 months
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Hi idk if this is possible or if ip this makes u uncomfortable but maybe reader x Quackity or ranboo where reader is actor (idk what they/them people who act are called 😭😭😭😭) anyway and maybe there doing an award show and Quackity is was the shows on live and he’s just really supportive about it
hi!! and yes of course! ; also nonbinary actors are just actors, don't worry! even some women/femme presenting entertainers prefer actor over actress so it's no big deal! I don't know too much about award shows so bare with me LMFAO
QUACKITY ; award show
summary ; you've been nominated for best actor in supporting role, and Alex is there to cheer you on
warnings ; language, reader wears a tuxedo
genre ; fluff
word count ; 666 (ooo the devils gonna get me at 3am guys 😨😨)
masterlist
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Alex was your biggest fan, genuinely. You built your career from the ground up with him there by your side each step of the way. You'd never stray from your YouTube roots, so when your new movie-fans found your social medias, they were quickly fixated on seeing your content and you with Alex.
You'd been acting in smaller shows and movies for a while, like T@gged, a horror web series, you played a very minor role in The Walking Dead, and almost most importantly, you had a pretty big role in the A24 film Mid90s. Mid90s was basically your breakthrough, and you loved working with your costars and just being a skater who could act.
But, after the release of The Last Of Us, you'd gained a fair amount of new followers and subscribers. You weren't expecting your role to be that important to viewers, but people loved seeing you on screen playing such a different character that completely contrasted yourself. Alex did too, he religiously rewatched the movie just for you and would talk about how awesome or hot you looked in certain scenes. It was flattering. However, you weren't expecting to be nominated in the best actor in a supporting role over it.
You obviously brought Alex with you to the Oscar's, I mean, holy shit, how could you not? You both wear tuxedos, him in a dark burgundy color, and you in a dark grey with a lighter grey pattern. Both of you wear black collared shirts underneath your blazers and sit down at a table. You didn't know anyone else, nor were you friends with anyone else at the event, sadly.
You and Alex sit and talk about the event and the Streamer Awards coming up for him soon and what categories he'd been nominated in. Focusing the conversation on him made you a little less anxious about it all, considering if you for some reason won, you'd have to go on that stage in front of hundreds of people on live television to talk and hold your award.
A few hours pass, and finally, the show starts. You two both show respect for the other actors and filmmakers, but talk in between bits because your anxiety was only getting worse up until the point where you were on screen, showing your nomination for best supporting role.
Alex smiles and nudges your arm, telling you, "Look, it's you!"
You hide your face in your hands, embarrassed and flustered. You quickly smile and wave at the camera, however, until they move on to the other nominees.
"And the winner for Best Supporting Actor is..."
Alex taps his fingers on the table, watching you bounce your leg under the table as you watch.
"Y/n L/n!"
"Oh my God! Holy shit!" Alex shouts, standing up with you. He wraps you in a hug before quickly telling you to go get your award.
You grab his wrist and drag him up backstage and onto the stage, making him stand with you as you claim your award.
"Hi, oh my God, this is- this is crazy! Thank you!" You smile, speaking into the microphone as people clap and cheer for you. "Thank you so much, and thank you to my awesome boyfriend, Alex," You turn back to him, smiling as he holds his hands in front of him, clasped together. "I wouldn't be here without him, and I can't thank him enough. And thank you to all my fans who have been supporting me along the way, even new fans who just learned of my existence. Thank you so much, words can't describe how grateful I am right now"
You smile, looking down at the award before you walk off stage, Alex right behind you. He stops you backstage, wrapping you in a longer hug.
"I'm so proud of you, Y/n/n!" He smiles, "I love you so much"
"The adrenaline feels like drugs at the moment, my face is numb, holy shit"
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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year
Text
MINHO HEADCANONS
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MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST
Request is for @daenyraa
Since your request was pretty vague, I've decided to do a list of Headcanons about what it would be like to be in a relationship with Minho whilst in the Glade. I hope that this is what you wanted, but if not, I'm more than willing to do another request with more of a story based structure :)
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SUMMARY: Minho × fem!girlfriend!reader. Just Headcanons.
WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, kinda smut/spice content further down, so skip if that makes you uncomfortable.
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Dating Minho isn't for the faint of heart. Truly- it's a stressful endeavour.
He's always out in the Maze, risking his life to try and protect you and everyone else that lives in the Glade. But, boy, does that make it stressful.
You always wait for him at the Doors, waiting patiently (impatiently) for your loving boyfriend to return.
And if he's even the slightest bit late? All hell breaks loose.
"You're late! Again!"
"By what? Thirty seconds?"
Obviously, you only act like this because you care about him so much. He sees it, and he understands why. Sometimes, he'll linger around the final corner of the Maze just a little bit just to see your reaction.
Minho likes to see that someone cares. Most of the Gladers are completely used to it, but no matter how long you'd been there, the thought of him not coming back stresses you out. You know he's the best, but the thought still eats you alive.
Minho never pushes it too far; he just wants to see that you care not give you a panic attack.
He'll always give you a kiss as he enters the Glade, but after lagging behind a little bit, you're always more forceful and needy- another reason he slows down.
The problem with Minho being the best is that he also knows he's the best. The boy definitely has a cocky streak. Sure, to outsiders, he seems cold and collected. His brow is almost always furrowed, and it's a rarity if you convince him to join in with Bonfire night. But when you know him, you know what he's like. Sarcastic and quick-witted. He's willing to argue with anyone (especially Gally) just for the sake of winning.
The main thing he argues about is, well, you.
More like defends.
Being the one girl in a place as chaotic and testosterone driven as the Glade means that Minho, along with a couple of other friendly faces, are constantly keeping an eye on you. If Minho is out in the Maze, Newt or Alby are always close by, per your boyfriend's request.
But that doesn't stop some people.
Minho has gotten in numerous scraps and shouting matches to defend you. He knows you can defend yourself, but you're hit girlfriend- of course he's going to protect you.
He's overprotective. Something you probably shouldn't find attractive, but you do.
One of these outbursts was the first time he told you he loved you. Clint and Jeff had left you to patch up his bloody nose, not wanting to deal with anymore of Minho's bullshit, and he just kind of said it. Out of nowhere.
"Seriously, dude? You got hit shuckin' hard."
"I love you."
"...What?"
"I love you- I- I think I'm in love with you."
Minho's surprisingly into PDA. Not all of the time, and not too much, and it's definitely more of a cautious possessive thing than just being cute, but you don't mind. He normally stands behind you, hands on your waist. His grip is firm but not forceful and he loves it when you lean back into him, staring up at him with doe eyes. He melts like butter when you look at him like that.
Though, it's not like you're all over each other. You respect the other Gladers boundaries and don't want to make them uncomfortable, so your more heated interactions remain behind closed doors.
That being said, he is known to steal kisses or nip at your neck mid-conversation with someone else. You know, just to make sure they don't get the wrong idea.
You would always make an effort to spend time together. With Minho barely being in the Glade, dinners and evening times are by far the most precious. Once Minho is finished with his maps, he'll eat with you, then you'll both join in on the nights festivities. And by that I mean, you join in and he watches. Then you'll go to bed together.
You had moved into Minho's hut the second you started dating. It's world's better than sleeping in that gross old hammock.
He'd often joke you're with him for his bed.
Sleeping in Minho's arms was probably the highlight of your day. He was always gone when you woke up and the empty hut always put a dampener on your morning, but it wasn't so bad because you knew you'd fall asleep with him again that night.
His strong arms always swallowed you. You wouldn't be shocked if they crush you one day. Not that you'd complain- it would be a decent way to die.
Minho sleeps easily, often meaning you're awake later than he is. You spend the time tracing his skin with your finger, brushing over his lips and admiring his features. He sure is pretty.
Little do you know, that he does the exact same thing to you during his early rises.
Minho is shockingly easy flustered. You'd think for a guy of his skill and reputation that he'd be more receptive to someone matching his energy. But, no. He flirts with you day in, day out- that's nothing new. But you mainly roll your eyes or swat him away, but when you reciprocate, he ends up being the blushing mess.
"That shirt looks great on you- you almost look good enough to eat."
"Is that a suggestion? Be my guest."
"..."
Alright, smut time. I know why y'all are here. It's more spice than smut but still. Though, leave now if this makes you uncomfortable.
You and Minho actually didn't have sex for a long time. It wasn't that you didn't want to or think about it, and things definitely weren't made easier when you spent every night sleeping next to the shirtless God of a man. But Minho seemed reluctant.
It wasn't that you'd not done anything. You'd spent plenty of hours making out and grasping at one another, desperately trying to close the distance between you. But the second it went further- it would stop. You'd buck your hips against him, slide your hand down his abs, try to palm his crotch- anything. And he'd pull away. Obviously, that was your cue to stop as well, and you did.
It always turned sweet after that. Delicate kisses and laying in bed with your face buried in his chest, listening to his heartbeat. But you wanted more.
You heard the boys talking about it a lot. They always think they're so subtle, but they're really not. They'd always ask Minho questions like, "What's she like in bed?" "How hot is she, really?" "Is she good at (insert any inappropriate action here)?"
Minho never answered. If he did, he'd tell them to shuck off and mind their own business. But, in reality, there wasn't much to tell.
It caused all kinds of insecurities to come to the surface. Did he not find you attractive? Were you just a trophy? That he'd got the girl and no one else could?
He noticed your distance attitude fairly fast but got little to no answer out of you. So one night you were just laying in bed, back away from each other and you just decided to ask.
"Why won't you have sex with me?"
You'd never seen Minho so speechless before and you don't think you have since.
"Are you not attracted to me?"
"What? No? I mean, yes. I am attracted to you."
"Then why don't you act like it?"
Minho had to explain that he does, indeed, find you attractive. And that your little make-out sessions and flustered interactions get him riled up. Too much. He's scared that you'll think he only wants your for your body; that sex is all he wants you for but that isn't it.
He knows you spend half your time in the Glade listening to how horny teenage boys think women should be treated and what they think women like. But Minho didn't want to be like that.
He obviously didn't make a good move by brushing off your desires, but he was too worried about crossing boundaries to think about that.
It was an awkward conversation, but a necessary one. And things picked up a bit after that.
"So, do you want to fuck now, or what? Because I'm telling you I want to."
"Yes. Please."
Obviously, you were both bumbling virgins with little to no knowledge about the others anatomy. But somehow, that just made it more fun. The learning part was huge at the start. Figuring out what the other wanted whilst learning what you wanted too.
It was all new and daring and exciting.
It was also a lot of watching one another touch themselves. Something that completely flustered you and entertained Minho.
He learnt fast, just like he does everything. He learnt the perfect way to curl his fingers, the pace, the way to move his tongue- all exactly how you liked it to turn you into a trembling, stuttering mess in his arms.
You had a lot of insecurities. You didn't like your chest or your hips, and being under Minho's lustful gaze just made you more insecure. He didn't care. He thinks you're gorgeous. And he'd tell you that every single time you were even slightly vulnerable in front of him. Or even when you weren't. The man loves you, okay? Let him have this.
Minho's huge on consent. Massive on it. You show any tiny little sign of being even remotely uncomfortable, and he'd stop dead in his tracks. There's no way he'd risk making you upset just because he was turned on.
You found it sweet, but then slightly frustrating as you wanted more. He'd be so gentle and loving all of the time (and, yes, you love that too), but you'd wanted him to dare to be darker, rougher, even. You weren't gonna break in two if he used a little force.
You told him about this, and he seemed awkward, so you dropped it. Only to be slammed into the wall of your shared hut a couple of days later after a particularly bad day in the Maze. That was one of the first times of many that Minho would take his pent-up frustrations out on you.
With your permission, of course.
Minho's a switch through and through. It depends on how his day's been, but sometimes he's dominating and forward, knowing exactly what he wants and how to get it. And other days, he just wants to be taken care of.
He's not exactly loud in the bedroom, but he is vocal. He mainly grunts and provides heated words and praises. There are lines he won't cross though- sorry guys, he's not going to insult you, no matter how into it you are.
Though, he is into marking. He learnt pretty fast that he doesn't have to always be around with his hands on your waist if there's soft bruises staining your neck and collarbone.
Minho's also big on aftercare, probably because of his previous fears.
Overall, Minho would be a great boyfriend, and I stand by that. I mean, have you seen this man? He's willing to do anything for people he cares for.
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Yo, so here is my first request. The fact I'm even getting requests is kinda mad, but thank you :))
I'm really not sure where I was going with this since it was just a relationship prompt. I don't think it's as long as my other post but I tried my best lol. Lemme know what y'all think :))
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