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jasonscaramel · 3 years

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Positions - The Mandalorian

Din Djarin x unnamed female reader (credit to gif maker up there I just work here)

warnings include: i was inspired by ariana grande’s new album, i also haven’t written in forever (much less for din—that’s never), 2.9k words, heterosexual sex, slight cockwarming, slight dom!din (but that’s all you’ll ever get from me)

author’s note before we get started: i have more of these planned so if you’re interested in being tagged let me know! also it has been forever since I've written so if you like it pls let me know

Being a multi-faceted human being isn’t that difficult, especially growing up in the middle of an endless galaxy. You were taught many valuable lessons growing up: cooking, farming, smuggling, hand to hand combat—the necessities to keep you alive. So upon your first ever meeting with a Mandalorian, it was no shock that he deemed you useful almost straight away.

Growing up with defected Imperial parents, the intelligence training you received from your paranoid parents was better than the Empire could offer. You were sneaky, sly, and downright deceptive when you needed to be. Talking a bounty into walking straight into their death was easy, as was putting them down yourself if you needed to.

You’re also a damn good babysitter. And kids love you.

All around, it was a no brainer for Din—after promising you passage to a nearby planet that ended up being a six month journey—to keep you on board. You were all attached to each other at that point, especially the kid. He found maternal energy quite soothing, and even if you weren’t his mother, it seemed as though having a woman to counteract all the Boy going on eased the little one’s mind.

So now you’re here, the kid strapped to your chest and Din by your side, the only thing in your way of the Razor Crest is the man holding a knife to your throat. He’s trying, and failing, to get ahold of the kid in the process. Din pulls out his blaster in a move to protect the both of you, and the knife shoves further in your neck.

“Come any closer and they’re dead!” The man shouts in your ear, and a squeal comes from the makeshift baby carrier on your chest. You look at Din, hoping desperately he’s making eye contact with you. You give him a single nod, then stomp on the man’s foot as hard as you can, moving to grab the knife from your pocket. The blade at your throat is piercing, but you ignore it to stab the knife into the man’s thigh. He finally pulls away in agony as you rip it out, only to shove it into his throat seconds later. He hits the ground with a thump, choking on blood, and the kid lets out a relieved huff.

“Let’s go, it’s freezing,” you say as your teeth chatter, wrapping your arms the kid and snuggling for dear life. You can feel the sticky warm blood trickling ever so slowly down your neck, but the wound doesn’t hurt.

Upon entering the Razor Crest and shutting the hatch, Din turns his attention to you. “Does it hurt?”

You give a slight chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Din. You get us in hyperspace, I’ll put the kid to bed and get cleaned up.” You left no room for arguments as you made your way over to the baby’s pram and began unraveling him from your chest. You noticed Din hadn’t moved yet, but you didn’t really mind. He’s very protective of his son, so it doesn’t affect you to have him watch you coddle the kid, coo at him and sing him to sleep, if only it puts Din’s mind a little more at ease. With the lives you live, it’s hard for either of you to have trust in anyone. The only way is to prove yourself, and you intend to do it every day. Maybe for a little more than trust, but hey, you’re not complaining having Din stare at you all the time.

By the time the kid is ready to lay down, the ship is up and beginning its course. You shut the little guy in on himself so nothing bothers him and head to the refresher. Looking in the mirror, you have a sizable cut on your throat, but it’s only surface damage. You wipe off the blood, put on the first antiseptic you can find and head out. Apart from that little scuffle, your day had been relatively uneventful. You stopped on this planet to get groceries and fuel, for maker’s sake.

Settling into the co-pilot’s seat, you turn to look at Din and find him already facing you. You give him a soft smile, reaching over and giving him three light taps on the beskar on his thigh. It was something you always did; it always comforted him, even though he never really knew what you meant by it. “You alright?” He sounds genuinely worried, and you imagine if you could see his face his brows would be furrowed in the cutest expression.

“Definitely,” you reassure him, lifting your head to expose the cut a bit more. “It’s superficial, no harm done.” You drop your head to give him a bigger smile for added convincing. “What’s on your mind?” You know he’s concerned, but there’s something else underneath it. There always has been something else with you two. It lies beneath every conversation, making its way in through comfortable silences and soft touches. It pulls at your heartstrings at the oddest of moments, like when he’s cleaning up spit up with his cape or gazing out at the stars in hyperspace when he thinks you’re not there.

“I just don’t like to see you hurt, is all. But you handle yourself well, so it’s hard to worry for too long.” You hear his tone get lighter as he finishes his short explanation, giving you a slight chuckle when he’s finished. You return it easily.

“Please, you have nothing to worry about. As long as I have you as back up, I can do anything.” It started as a simple sentence, but the longer your silence sat the deeper the meaning became. Neither of you broke the spell, just stared at the general direction of each other’s faces and hoping you were making eye contact. It made you giggle, and when he cocked his head to the side, you just shook yours.

“Well, I wa-“ Din was interrupted by a beep on your wrist, indicating the child had been moving around. You turned on the speaker and gave him soft reassurances and cooed a small lullaby.

You didn’t hear anything after that, so you returned your attention back to him. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You pulled your sleeve over the watch to show you were giving your undivided attention.

The words that come out of his mouth are so quiet you hardly hear them. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

A smile breaks out on your face, tears unwillingly welling in your eyes. “Me too, Din. Me too. I-“ You stopped yourself immediately. What were you going to say? Maker, you could think of a dozen. I love you. I want to touch you. I want to sit in your lap and feel safe.

You’re glad to hear the child crying from the speaker on your wrist.

It had been two months since your almost-talk with your favorite Mando. Since then, Din has parked on the edge of a rainy planet, leaving you and the child for the past week. Easy enough job, watching the ship and the kid, albeit incredibly boring. By day two you were considering what card games the child would understand. By day five, you took to cleaning the entire ship.

Din came back on day eight, the day where you decided to fix up whatever you could laying around. Granted, you’re not a mechanic, but you’ve hot wired enough ships in your day to know a thing or two. It’s basic things at first, fixing loose wires and buttons, tightening bolts. After poking around for long enough, you think you find a decent enough project in fixing the nest of wiring in the cockpit, so you get to work.

It’s not much more than busy work, so when the child started crying you let him sit in your lap and help you work. After doing more harm than good for a solid half hour, you began to try to teach him the task at hand. He couldn’t grasp the entire idea of what you were doing, but he was doing a great job at handing you the wires you needed.

It was a while before you heard the ship make it’s familiar noises as Din came onboard. You heard the bounty pleading, the whoosh of the carbonite, but you didn’t hear his footsteps come closer so you continued your task. The child was beginning to have enough, you could tell he was getting tired, but knowing Din was here you wanted to keep him up as long as possible. Give Din more of a break after working so hard.

“Hand me the blue one,” you paused, watching the child’s little hand reach for the wrong wire. “You don’t know colors, do you?” Sighing, you moved his hand a little to the left to put him back on course. “That’s blue.” He made a noise in acknowledgment, handing you the wire to clip underneath the control panel.

You heard Din finally making his way up as the child handed you another wire. “Red! Thanks, buddy.” He gave you a small, sweet sound before turning to look at Din. You followed suit, looking up from your seat on the floor. The child wrestled his way out of your arms, waddling over to his father and lifting his arms. Din picked him up, holding him tight and rocking back and forth slightly to soothe him. It was the cutest thing you’d ever seen, and you don’t even think he realized he was doing it.

“How’d it go? You alright?” You asked Din as you rose from the floor, dusting your hands on your pants. Giving him a once over, you don’t see any blood leaking from anywhere, so that’s a good sign.

“I’m fine, he just wasn’t that easy to track down.” Din kept his eyes on the little one, watching as his eyes drifted open and shut. He was fighting sleep, but Din could always get him to knock out quick.

“If you want to go put him down and get dried off, I’ll get us going to our next destination.” You could hear the rain beating down on the Razor Crest, so there’s no telling how much water snuck it’s way between skin and beskar. He gave you a gentle nod, turning and making his way down to the refresher. The baby’s pram was next to his cot, so he could do everything in one place.

As the ship began its kick into hyperspace, you heard Din’s heavy footsteps make their way closer to you. Turning on auto-pilot, you jump over to the co-pilot seat to give Din his back. When he sits, he double checks the coordinates, and once he realizes you’ve done it all right, he slumps into his chair. You reach over, tapping three times on his thigh.

“I can take care of this if you want to sleep,” your voice was soft, imagining him dozing off like the child was earlier under that helmet.

He tensed, shaking his head without looking at you. “I’m not tired.” His fingers twitched, reaching for a lever and gripping it hard. Reading him was always incredibly difficult, but the more you’re around him the more he lets out his emotions in physical cues. He seems frustrated, restless, was the bounty that bad?

“Then what can I do to help? You seem... tense.” The sharp intake of air was audible through the helmet, so you followed your gut and placed your hand on his thigh.

“Cyar’ika...” his voice trails off, as tense as his body. He’d never called you anything but your name, especially not something this soft, and you found yourself moving to situate on your knees, in between Din’s. Looking up at him, you could see the beskar of his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, gazing up into—what you hoped were—his eyes.

“Is this okay?”

He cleared his throat, nodding his head. “More than.” After you hear those beautiful, consenting words, you immediately get to work. You reach for the waistband of everything you could get your hands around and pull. Luckily, Din helps you and before you know it his pants around his ankles and his cock is right at eye level. You take a moment, eyes widening once you finally realize where you’re trying to fit that thing. Din shifts in his seat with nervous energy, and you remember he can actually see you, so you continue. Soft kisses up and down his thighs, the occasional bite soothed with your tongue, all while pumping him with your spit slicked hand. Making your way back up his thighs, you kiss up his balls and shaft, giving the tip a kitten lick before you take him in your mouth. The groan that emanates from the helmet drives you further, doing your best to get used to his size. You moan when he finally hits the back of your throat, and Din grabs your hair with a growl.

“I need—I want...” Din stops, panting, desperately trying to pull you off his dick by your hair. You comply, jerking him softly while looking up at him.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours. Don’t hold back.” Your voice comes out raspier than normal, and you feel Din’s cock twitch in your palm.

“I need to fuck you.” You could feel his need even through the vocoder, so you let go of his cock and—after removing your clothing from the waist down, wearing nothing but a tunic—moved to sit on his lap. Din grabbed you by your hips, pulling you close and hovering over right where he wanted to. Slowly, fingertips digging deliciously into your skin, he guides you onto the tip of his cock. You share a moan as he stretches you, slowly but surely, as you feel like you’re going to split in half.

“Kriff, Din,” you whine, finally seating your hips against his. He runs his gloved hands up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe before resuming their iron grip on your hips. “You’re huge.” You smile when you hear a deep, gritty chuckle through his helmet, and once you feel his guiding pressure on your hips, you finally begin moving.

It’s slow at first; your hands doing all the touching as you got used to one another’s bodies. As Din got more comfortable, he began thrusting into you, taking over your pace and morphing it into something faster, yet equally close. He pulls you so close your chest is tight against his, your head moving to bury itself in his neck. As his pace grew, your hands gripped onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

It was the best sensation you’d ever felt in your life. The stretch was just enough for an extra sense of pleasure, and the way he kept hitting your g-spot on the way out had you seeing stars. You press your lips against the tiniest bit of skin you can find, your fingers desperately trying to find purchase on his shoulders.

“Maker, Din, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for—it sounded like your voice came from far away, like it wasn’t you. He felt so good and strong and sturdy and his soft grunts and groans were filling your ears solely to heighten your pleasure. Everything about him made you want to never let go, keep him just like this forever.

“You going to cum for me, cyar’ika?” His tone is playful as his thrusts get rougher and out of rhythm. You know you won’t last long and neither will he.

“Need it, Din. Please.” Your sobs of pleasure are almost drowned out by the beskar on his shoulder, but he hears you—he always does. His left hand leaves your hip and trails down to where the two of you meet. He traces his fingers over your pussy, and where it meets his cock, then moves to your clit and begins his wonderful torture.

You’re so close, and he’s so good, rubbing your clit just right while his cock splits you open. You hear him breathe your name from under the helmet, followed by a string of curses you can’t begin to comprehend, and you let go, squeezing tight around him as your thighs shake. Din thrusts once, twice more before he’s buried as deep as he possibly can be and comes inside of you. The warmth inside of you makes you shiver with the contrast of the coldness of the cockpit.

The both of you are out of breath, holding onto each other tightly as you try to regain your bearings. His hands reach around you, encompassing your body in a hug as he runs his hands up and down your back. Upon realizing your legs are still shaking, he moves his soothing motions to your thighs.

“You’re amazing.” Mumbling into his neck, you grab at one of his hands and hold on for dear life. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Did I wear you out that well?” Despite the vocoder, you could hear the smile in Din’s voice. You share a laugh, and upon mellowing out, you give his hand three little squeezes. “Alright, cyar’ika, just a little bit longer.”

His gaze stays on the streams of stars as he holds your hand, rubs your back, and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. A little bit longer with you could never hurt.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader

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wangisking · 3 years

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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘

BASICS. FULL NAME : Augustus Alexander Wang NICKNAME : August and Gus ( in general ), Auggie, Ice Prince, and Guggie ( by Aurora ). Aug and Lestat ( by Jack ), NAME MEANINGS : Augustus is Latin for the great / the magnificent. Alexander is also Latin and means defender of mankind. From what I know, Wang in Chinese means king. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : Though, his dad did think of the Roman Emperor Augustus when they named him, they liked the meaning. It seemed to fit him. They weren’t wrong, he was an emperor and he still has that energy. AGE : 22. Like Aurora, he can’t age past 22. He wouldn’t have minded either way. BIRTHDAY : 5th April ETHNIC GROUP : Augustus is half Korean and half Brazilian. NATIONALITY : British LANGUAGES : fluent in English and French. Conversational Latin. Broken Korean. Learning Urdu. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : demi-heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : demi-heterosexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Single and doesn’t want to mingle. He had only one serious relationship in the past with Aurora Shams from 2017-2019. CLASS : Upper class, Wealthy but not private-jet kind of wealthy. HOME TOWN / AREA : London till he was 10 and Vancouver till he was 17 CURRENT HOME : Los Angeles PROFESSION : Drummer, songwriter, model, and student. PHYSICAL. HAIR : long and wavy. Chestnut brown. Here is an example. It goes down his earlobes in length. EYES : piercing, almond-shaped eyes. Naturally brown, but he wears blue or green contact lenses. NOSE : a Greek nose, straight without bumps. FACE : Oblong shaped, sharp and chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. Masculine features. Example. LIPS : not full nor thin, heart shaped. COMPLEXION : pretty pale. Example is same as the face section. SCARS : one on his chest. TATTOOS : a very small ‘10/17′ on his left rib. PIERCINGS: earlobes HEIGHT : 6′5″ or 195cm. BUILD : Inverted triangle. Broad, tapered shoulders. Muscular. Defined, sculpted abs. Long limbs. Broad chest. He was naturally towards the muscular side with broad shoulders and chest. He’s never been on the skinny side. Example one and two USUAL HAIR STYLE : he lets his hair do their thing, he styles them a little, but he prefers a messier vibe. USUAL FACE LOOK : He looks generally bored. His eyes have a piercing look that seem to be drilling into the person before him. Like he can see right through you. There is an insolent smirk tugging at his lips like he thinks you’re amusing. Almost proud, like he thinks he is above you. There is depth and intensity in his eyes that stare skywards in thought. There is also mischievous, radiant glimmer in his eyes. USUAL CLOTHING : prince charming meets rockstar. Lots of jackets, darker colors, boots, necklaces and rings. Here is his wardrobe. PSYCHOLOGY. FEARS : claustrophobia and the fear of ending up alone. He always had this creeping feeling that he’d be alone in the end and that he was always meant to be alone. ASPIRATIONS : he doesn’t have any set aspirations. They change every now and then. However, his goals are just to keep his found family happy. POSITIVE TRAITS : extremely charismatic, intelligent, academic and studious, alluring and attractive, quick-witted, charming and captivating, articulate and eloquent, adventurous, desirable, analytical, brilliant, friendly, enthusiastic, adaptable, observant, kind, mellow, competent, extremely caring and protective over those closest to him, clever, loyal, clear-headed, confident, humorous, courageous, imaginative and creative, a visionary, refined tastes and manners, daring, dignified, ebullient, deep, remarkable, surprisingly he’s very forgiving, forthright, gallant, logical, gentlemanly and sophisticated, perfectionist, popular, self-reliant, shrewd, witty, suave, curious, and resourceful. NEGATIVE TRAITS : egocentric, self-obsessed, idle, indifferent, selfish, defiant, arrogant, argumentative, rebellious, kinda lazy, stubborn, distracted, doesn’t really care for morals, blunt, can appear insensitive a lot, is insensitive at times, no filters, can be cold for those he doesn’t care for, emotionally immature, deflects emotions, suppresses his feelings, sorta detached, kinda pessimistic, and unknowingly self-sacrificing because he thinks it’s fair and he deserves it. MBTI : ENTP ( Ne dominant, Ti auxiliary, Fe tertiary, and Si inferior — this means she can’t use Ni, Se, Te, and especially can’t use Fi). He perceives the world by connecting dots, thinking of never-ending possibilities, looking for pieces of a puzzle, and finding meaning in abstract. He makes judgments on if what he perceives fits his internal logic. ZODIAC : Aries sun, Gemini rising, Sagittarius moon. TEMPERAMENT : sanguine choleric ANIMALS : parrots and cats because they’re both intelligent but little pieces of shit who enjoy making your life hell. VICE : it’s either his ego or how he ends up detaching himself FAITH : currently, he’s Mu.slim. He was born protestant, became an atheist when he was 13, agnostic at 14. Bud.dhist at 15. Taoist at 16. Confucianist at 17. Mu.slim at 19. Doesn't practice it though. GHOSTS ? : yep.. AFTERLIFE ? : yep REINCARNATION ? : he guesses so. Went through it, but doesn’t remember. ALIENS ? : hell yeah. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : liberal. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : upper class or upper middle class is good with him. EDUCATION LEVEL : MSci in Physics from the University of Cambridge. Is opting to specialize in astrophysics soon. FAMILY. FATHER : Edward Wang, owner of a chain of fine dining restaurants MOTHER : Elisa Violeta Wang, psychiatrist, deceased STEP MOTHER : Chaeyoung Wang, lawyer. SIBLINGS : Cassandra Wang, athlete EXTENDED FAMILY : he is not close with his external family and doesn’t know his birth mother’s family at all. They never wanted him. FAVOURITES. BOOK : Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Galactic Dynamics by James Binney, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Mukarami, Slaughter house Five by Kurt Vonnegut, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, and Lord of the Flies by William Golding. MOVIE : Scott Pilgrim vs The World 5 SONGS : All You Want - Dashboard Prophets, Tokyo Smoke - Cage the Elephant, Where is My Mind? - The Pixies, Sparks - Coldplay, Lithium - Nirvana, and Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra DEITY : none. Let him argue with one and ask for proof of their deity-ness. HOLIDAY : Halloween. It’s dramatic and fun. MONTH : October, because he met Aurora and Jack this month in 2017. SEASON : spring and summer. PLACE : he doesn’t have a specific place, but he prefers European architecture. WEATHER : cloudy and windy. Sunny if it isn’t too hot. SOUND : drums and percussions, the sound of aurora and jack’s laugh, guitars, violins, the sound of wind roaring, music boxes, and the clinking of bangles and jewelry. SCENTS : sage, rosemary, and damascus roses. TASTES : chocolate, strawberries, chilies, and fried food. FEELS : the feeling of hitting the drums, wind in his hair, the cold night air, warm morning sun, grass against his fingertips, silk, and touching long hair. ANIMALS : cats and dogs. NUMBER : 8 COLORS : white, cherry red, pink, maroon, wine red, black, and silver. EXTRA. TALENTS : he is an extremely talented drummer, good at guitar and the piano, he is talented at songwriting, composing music, he’s exceptionally good at mathematics and physics, analytical skills, storytelling, knows a lot of facts, near photographic memory because he remembers all important historical events with dates and details, academic writing, and brainstorming ideas. BAD AT : cooking, not very good at driving because he gets distracted, doing one task at a time, playing videogames, actually listening to what people say, being humble, and actually being a good leader. TURN ONS : this is a complicated question. He needs a very strong emotional connection to feel sexual attraction towards someone. And he only felt it for one person in his whole life. But, what sparked that attraction was a brilliant mind and the ability to connect with his mind on a very different level. It’s not going to repeat with anyone else. TURN OFFS : literally everyone else. He’s not sorry, but I am. HOBBIES : playing the drums, writing and composing songs, reading, solving problems, listening to music, watching shows, getting people to do weird shit, and annoying people. AESTHETIC : crowns, drums, broken drumming sticks, abstract art, the vast space, chess boards, album cases, thrones, the echoing sound of pianos, Greek sculptures, galaxies and nebulas, early morning sunrise through curtains, libraries, equations scribbled on napkins, empty museums, unmade white sheets, polaroid cameras, conspiracy theories, VHS tapes, antique books, cobblestone alleyways, night skies, cluttered books, calloused fingers, crumpled composition pages, guitar picks, vinyl, telescopes, and planets. Basically: abstract, chaotic academia, cryptid academia, dark academia, indie, kingcore, light academia, musical academia, science academia, spacecore, QUOTES : it’s weird but i can’t decide which one fits him. FC INFO. MAIN FC : victor han ALT FC : n/a. OLDER FC : he can’t age past 22, so he doesn’t need one. YOUNGER FC : none yet. VOICE CLAIM : both speaking and singing (his accent is posh British with a slight hint of Canadian) MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about ? A1 : The same answer as Aurora, The Tale of Solis et Lunae that stars him alongside Aurora, Lunae, Jack, and Tate, plus more. A cosmic adventure / fantasy / coming of age / superhero / the reluctant hero / the chosen one. His role is of Aurora’s best friend and her greatest support in emotional and supernatural dangers. He is the time traveler who ascends time and space, so he often also gives her insight and information like the sage. It’ll expand across dimensions, worlds, and different states of existence. The scenes would be cinematic with a strong soundtrack. I imagine him to have some scenes like Quick Silver in the X-Men movies. Q2 : What would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : He would have a 90s grunge or spacey dream rock sound. It ties in with the end of the last answer because i see him in one of those scenes with 90s grunge or maybe classical music ? Q3 : Why did you start writing this character ? A3 : I made Augustus just a bit before Aurora. They were a two part deal. I don’t know when it began, I just had this image of a tall, long haired boy with piercing, intelligent eyes who’s a smart-ass and likes being a know-it-all nuisance. This character has been the same since he began in 2019 and refused to change. He was always a drummer, he always had the same fashion sense, the look, Gus was always half-Korean, he always had long fingers he wore rings on, and he was always Aurora’s best friend/partner in crime. He remains unchanged and that's why I wanted to write him. This very vivid image of this boy was something I had to pen down. And just my luck, I found a fc who looks exactly how Gus looked in my head. Q4 : What first attracted you to this character ? A4 : Augustus is just extraordinary. It’s something I always felt about him and Aurora and I don’t see any of my other characters coming anywhere close to them regardless of how much I spent time on them. But with Augustus, his entire image and looks and personality — down to his wardrobe and jewelry was always so vivid in my head. Like I knew this very chaotically handsome boy who was going to turn the world upside down. His story is interesting, but what interests me more is his perspective on his story. The way he looks at his life and how he is quiet and doesn’t show his pain. How confused he always is. How much he aches but never seems so. The way he loves but doesn’t say even a quarter of the intensity he feels. And how sometimes he believes he deserves suffering because it makes sense to him. I also love the connections he makes and the way he loves so deeply and profoundly but underneath the surface. His connection, love, fears, and hopes with Aurora and Jack for their respective reasons are extremely beautiful. Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. ? A5 : Augustus is unknowingly self-sabotaging. He let go the only relationship / love in his life that made him feel like real love just because he thought he didn’t deserve it. And because when he was provoked, it made “sense” to him. He bottles his emotions and pain so much despite their intensity. He never shows how much he really cares and really hurts. And how sure he is that he’ll end up alone without friends and that it makes sense to him. Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : Here’s a fun answer, because I bottle my emotions like him. I also interact with the carefree way he does even if I don’t feel peachy. He’s smart and witty and really hot and I don’t even have that going on for me. So, yikes. Only of Gus’ bad things I share. Q7 : How does your muse feel about you ? A7 : Gus loves interacting with people so he’ll definitely show up to annoy me. Maybe, he might think I’m fun to annoy? Or maybe, we’ll have a similar sense of humor. I think he won’t dislike me. Not sure if he’ll like me. I think he’d think I’m funny in a strange sort of way. Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : Aurora, first of all. They have this same brain wave-length thing going on where they’re partners in crime and bffs forever more. He knows how she is feeling and what she’s thinking even before she utters it. If she is about to sneeze, he’d get a tissue ready. He can tell if she is hungry or sleepy with one glance. She can do the same, so they sorta have this weird understanding of each other. Jack is this older brother figure Augustus loves. He won’t admit it, but he kinda wants to make Jack proud of him. He also wants to provide love and care to Jack that he thinks he deserves but never got. They’re his family now and he’ll never be alone or sad again. He annoys Jack a lot but behind it all, he just wants Jack to think he is needed and he belongs. That if he thinks Augustus is reliant on him, then he has this family he has to protect and care for. He can’t stand the thought of Jack feeling unloved, forgotten, alone. Tida is another one. There’s this great respect and adoration Gus has for him. Almost like he looks up to him in some ways He also has a lot of hopes and expectations attached. He feels Tida is everything that Gus himself lacks. He is the ideal boyfriend, kindest person, shows his emotions vividly, and is like a warm and cozy blanket personified. He is probably Tida and Aurora’s biggest supporter and first one to know. He can’t be happier than he is that Aurora found someone as good and perfect as Tida. Taewon is one really fun character. Their two-way frenemy jealousy spans over years and started in Cambridge when they were both in love with the same girl they claimed to be best friends with. Though, trying to be calm, Augustus was constantly provoked and hurt, made to feel inferior and constantly in fear of his relationship being broken by Taewon’s schemes that he couldn’t say out loud. This dark period ended with a fist fight and baggage of guilt they both carry to this day for hurting each other and the one they claimed to love. Today, they’re way past that and frenemies who have funny quips and arguments for each other. They say they dislike each other. But if the lighting is good, one would be the photographer of the other. Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : Music helps me imagine scenes with perfect visual details. Any scenes from shows that remind me of my storylines. Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ? A10 : I don’t remember. It was many days and I didn’t count because it was in bits and pieces.

#╰ ♛ 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 ━━ the king of gods #long post #i finally did this!

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

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Tide Pools (1/6/2021)

Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”

Alastor and Angel Dust @sluttyspiderpolkacock (and the same adorable baby featured here) hang out around a tide pool. Angel shares (with some coaxing) some of his worries re: Valentino following this little incident, and Alastor brainstorms with Angel possible ways to keep him safe—from adjusting his contract with Valentino to fleeing Pentagram City to getting an effective weapon that could take Valentino down a peg.

And the baby eats a crab.

(This is also where Angel gets access to the holy water that he uses here.)

Alastor

At long last, Alastor had finally gotten antsy enough to pull out his bathing suit and meander down to the beach to explore it properly. He’d found a little path right next to the ocean in the shade of the estate, and it had some tide pools he’d been examining with interest.

Unfortunately, being in the shade like this and having his arms and legs exposed to the breeze for the first time in decades meant he was chillier than he’d planned on. Detached from Hell as he currently was, he didn’t want to waste his energy warming himself. He wished he’d foregone the bathing suit and kept his coat...

Something billowy covered him up from above.

He jumped up and flipped it off with a startled trumpet sound effect, identified it as a coat, looked around, looked up, and looked back at the coat. Sure, that’d do.

He pulled it on, folded up the cuffs so they didn’t dangle over his hands, tied the two spare sleeves around his waist like a sash, and crouched down to study the tide pool again.

Angel

As the damned thing flew out of his sight, Angel gradually felt the ability to breathe return to his control. Deep breaths now. He could stay with Seapup a little longer. Gently, he threaded those chubby limbs through his spindly claws and pulled him to his fluff to warm him. Happy thoughts now... little sleepy Veci burbles... waves crashing against the rocks - - -

**And a loud, sudden TRUMPET.**

Pelagios started to stir. Then, mouth scrunched up before all four eyes popped open, he began to cry.

" _OHNONONOOO!_ " Angel cooed with a gather of the orange ball into his arms, " It's ok! I'm here! I'm SORRY, MIO BAM_BINO!_ Back ta sleep? Can ya sleep? Fa me? C'mon, let's go back to sleep. " He then rolled to his side and got up to pace the room, lightly bouncing and swaying the baby Veci to try and get him to calm. " Water? Ya wanna see the water, Baby? Yeah? Ok, let's go see what the jazz band's all about, ok? "

Smiling and making faces, Angel made his way to the balcony and perched himself over the edge to give Pelagios a taste of the sea air. With a little swaying and some light humming, it seemed to work long enough for Angel to let himself peruse the view. Sea... sands... sunlight like glitter over the waves... tidepools...

" ... Alastor? " Catching sight of a figure wearing Valentino's coat almost gave him a HEART ATTACK, but piecing together the features of his local Radio Demon pulled the biggest sigh of relief from deepest recesses of his lungs. " What'cha doin' down there in... that? "

Alastor

Alastor looked up. "Oh, hello! I thought I remembered this coat! I think the better is question is what is *this* doing down here with *me*?" He straightened up. Check out that snazzy 1920s swimsuit. Complete with skirt. "I appreciate that it didn't have *you* in it this time, but how many times do you plan to assault me with this coat?"

Angel

" _As many times as it takes fa ya t' learn ya lesson,_ " he teased darkly before laughing and shaking his head, " They were both accidents! Like this one! _Say ' hi ' to Uncle Alastor ~_ " Angel then tilted little Pelagios towards him. Too sleepy to do much more than yawn, Angel wagged a finger beneath his paw to mimic a wave. " I was just, uh, swingin' around. Practicin' m'coat flingin'. Y'know, job stuff! And got a lil' carried away! "

His ability to lie was getting worse and worse. He couldn't even look him in the eye and instead smiled off into the sky.

" Suits ya, though! Just ya color an' e'rythin'. Go ahead an' keep an eye on it so it doesn't get the better a ya again, yeah? "

Alastor

"Unfortunately for us all, I'm utterly incorrigible! You'll have to spent the whole trip pelting me with clothing."

*Uncle Alastor.* He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that when it was in reference to some stranger's baby. But he endured it with grace and dignity.

"Coat flinging. Really." Do you hear his skepticism. "I suppose there's a precise technique to it, is it. Minute differences in the wrist flick that communicate different forms of sexual desirability."

Angel

" Yeah! Totally! Look. " Perfectly balanced upon the railing, Angel extended a limp wrist and an immaculately straight leg in a striking pose. " _Queer..._ " He then shifted into bent arms and legs. Reek that raw masculinity. " _Drinks nothin' but beer!_ "

In a fit of laughter, he drew his knees back together and tossed his chin to the sky. Pelagios didn't seem to find it worth acknowledging, but Angel thought he was hilarious and doing an _exceptional_ job.

" Dunno what I was goin' for, but it did _somethin'_, didn' it? Look at'cha, all cozy ~ " He then leaned over his knees with the sincerest espression since the start of the conversation. " So ya just out explorin' ? "

Alastor

Uh-huh. Alastor kept giving Angel a skeptical look. "And I suppose you do many shows where you're called upon to strip while acting as aggressively heterosexual as possible."

He perked up at the question. "Yes! I found crabs!" He pointed at the tide pool. "They look *exactly* like Earth crabs."

Angel

" I used t' be a HIT at bachelorette parties, MIND YA! " he insisted snarkily before swiveling his hips off the balcony and dropping down, a slumbering Seapup still in tow. He then walked up to the pools and copped a curious squat.

" Oh shit, y'ain't kiddin'... " Angel mused with a lean almost too far. Perhaps the scent of fresh food riled him, as Pelagios _immediately_ bounded off his chest and dove straight for a crab. Eyes blew wide and multiple sets of arms flailed in a panic to keep him from falling in and dampening his fluff.

Alastor

An announcer’s recorded voice rang out, “*And they’re off!*” Ding ding ding! A crowd roared in excitement! Alastor leaned in to watch the seapup go after the crabs. Angel can look after himself, this is way more interesting.

Angel

Angel scanned the contents of the pool with hawk - like precision. Nothing seemed too nefarious, especially not up against Pelagios happily burbling on fresh crab guts, triumphantly circling the pool on his back like an otter. He exhaled his held breath and fell back.

" Jesus fucking christ... " he wheezed, " He was OUT COLD all but TWO SECONDS AGO! " Oh he is _BEAT._

Alastor

“Look at him taking his victory lap! What a champion!” Alastor leaned forward to grin down at the seapup. “You’re a vicious little killer, aren’t you? Well done!” If he had been worried for Pelagios’s safety, he sure wasn’t showing it.

Angel

A big, grinning face! The little veci copied it as best as his his little jaws could and propelled his tail towards Alastor's perch. He knew praise when he heard it and was beginning to learn that sharing was caring. So he offered a couple legs, waving them both in his chubby paws like flags.

Alastor

"Is that for me!" He plucked the legs out of seapup's hands. "Why, thank you very much! Quite hospitable of you." He offered one to Angel and crunched down straight on the other, like some kind of freak who eats crab shells, Alastor what's wrong with you. "I hope these aren't toxic! Want one?"

Angel

Angel peered over his fluff and sat up just as Pelagios turned tail to playfully harass another crustacean of some sort. " The fuck're you - ? " He rose a brow but nonetheless took the crab leg and started taking it apart. " Ya... supposed t' eat the fuckin' SHELL? It'd be a lil easier to think you can chomp on, uh, GRASS, but crab shells?? Ya can TAKE THAT? "

Alastor

“You’re not *supposed* to, no. But it’s very satisfying!” Crunch, crunch, crunch. Enrichment. “... I probably shouldn’t swallow it, though.” Don’t mind him as he spits the pieces back out. Never take this man to a fancy restaurant.

Angel

He laughed out loud. " Yeah? Ya THINK? " he responded through giggles, half teasing, half validating. He then pulled the meat and returned the shell so Alastor could have his fun, " Don't choke, ok? Wouldn't wanna be givin' ya ribs another poundin' so soon. "

Alastor

“Don’t lie, you’re just waiting for another excuse!” Crunch. ... Crunch. All right, it stopped being satisfying. Once the novelty and shock value wore off, it didn’t really have much to offer. He tossed the rest of the leg into the tide pool.

Angel

" Now ya just bein' ridiculous ~ " he said dramatically with a fish through the tidepool, " I can deal a beatin' whenever I want, AND get paid t' do it. I don't NEED to be settin' anythin' up fa YOU. "

He then pulled something out. A sponge. A big one. _Definitely wider than Alastor's throat._ And a big, mischievous grin to go with it. " Bet'cha can't swallow this whole ~ " he joked with a crack of his neck as if to ready himself for the pounce.

Alastor

“Sure, but it wouldn’t be a beating for *me,* would it? It wouldn’t be half as satisfying for you!”

He eyed the sponge critically. “Hm... No, probably not!” Bait not taken. That thing didn’t look the *least* bit edible.

Angel

" Kiddin'! I was KIDDIN'! " he assured with a toss of the sponge back into the pool, " Ya really thought I was gonna shove this salty thin' down ya - ? "

And Pelagios volleyed it back, saturated with sea water. It deflated flatly against the side of his head and emptied enough water to drench him with. Hello, karma.

Alastor

The studio audience laughed obnoxiously.

Smiling politely and totally ignoring Angel's plight, he said, "No, I didn't—but I'm not putting it past you to hope I'd shove it down my *own* throat."

Angel

Angel raked his wet bangs off his face and rolled his eyes. It probably wasn't very noticible, but all eight went. " Tsk, even if ya DID call my bluff, I wouldn't 'ave LET YA. I wouldn't do ya like THAT! I wouldn' even let ya SELF, _do ya like that._ "

Alastor

“I’d like to see you try to stop me!” As a reward for misbehavior, Alastor plucked another tiny crab out of the pool and offered it to the seapup. Here, kid, you earned it.

“So! I’ve been just *dying* to find out—why the delayed arrival? Didn’t you have work?”

Angel

" That was the whole joke! " Angel exclaimed with a wringing of his hair as Pelagios happily crunched the crab and started playing with the legs.

A rich, sea breeze coursed over the pools and followed the shiver down his spine. " I did, " he said simply, " Then changed my mind. Big V didn' stop me. " Basically the truth, omitting the fact that he'd _tried_ to stop him.

Alastor

“Really? The kind of taskmaster who has his employees working on Christmas?” Alastor quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t stop you, or didn’t have an opportunity to stop you?”

Angel

He leaned back on his hands and crossed his legs, eyes narrow and subtly flickering in his direction from the sides. " ... _Yeah - !_ " The reply came in a curt exhale. " He could'a stopped me if he wan'ed to. Ya really think I could ever get the better of a brass like 'im if he 'ad anythin' t' say about it? "

Alastor

“Now, that’s a careful question. Do I think you could get the better of him if he had something to say about it? No. Do I think you could get the better of him *without* giving him a chance to say something about it and then decide what to do when you get back? Possibly.” Alastor had been wondering about the abruptness of Angel’s arrival. And he didn’t know a lot about Valentino—had never *cared* to learn much about him—but he suspected Valentino kept a tight leash on Angel’s diet, even more strongly suspected Valentino took more than his fair share of Angel’s earnings, and didn’t-even-have-to-suspect at least a couple of the gross indignities Valentino put his own business partner/lover through.

Maybe aside from a little obsession over nutrition and garden-variety unjust wages, everything was aboveboard; but it was enough to make Alastor suspicious of the idea that Valentino would willingly let his star employee go at the last minute during an extermination.

Angel

" WELL! Ain't YOU a SMA'T COOKIE! " he growled, " If ya think ya got me all figured out already, what's the poin' a askin', huh? Like hearin' yaself TALK? Get some sorta, OFF from makin' me out t' be some BITCH? " He'd twisted in Alastor's direction and raked a claw through the natural rock they were perched upon. A deep snarl twitched over the precious metal in his mouth. It was the most direct he'd been with him since arriving. And sudden, as if Alastor had abruptly shown in a secret, sacred place of his and made him scream.

" Well I ain't - ! " And he SNEEZED over his shoulder. Cold breeze, wet fur, and his high body temperature started giving him the shakes, making his beligerence anything but threatening. Brows scrunching in annoyance, he held up a finger in pause, sneezed a couple more times, and stared blankly. " ... Fuck was I? " Train of thought? _Derailed._

Alastor

Oh, hit a nerve, had he? Very sweetly, Alastor said, “I believe you were in the process of lambasting me for implying you were someone’s b[*BEEP*].” Isn’t he helpful. “Which isn’t what I meant to imply at all! Only that the fact that you *took* a liberty doesn’t necessarily imply he willingly *gave* it!”

Alastor stood, untied his sleeve-sash, and shrugged off the coat so he could offer it back to Angel. He was wet and sneezing, he needed it more than Alastor. “I don’t think I’ve figured out anything! All I know is that you plummeted out of the ceiling and that three out of the scant four facts I know about your boss are synonyms for ‘he’s a control freak.’ The rest, I can only learn from you. I didn’t want to be so *direct* with my insinuations, but I was starting to worry that if we got much more *in*direct, I’d never solve this mystery.”

Angel

Eyes glued to the rock, Angel took the coat and threw it over his entire person like a tent. " Fine. I left wit'out permission. Ok? " he muffled from beneath the thick velvet mass, " I couldn' do another night, 'specially not that one. 'Aight? Ya satisfied wit' 'at? Ya mystery solved, Prancy Drew? "

The bump started to shrink as he drew in his knees and curled into himself. He wasn't lying when he said he thought Alastor was smart, but it started to _worry_ him how _transparent_ he really was while he strived to draw an iron curtain around his occupational ( personal ) life.

Alastor

“Really? Prancy Drew? I would have gone for Sherlock Hooves, personally!” A light laugh. Ahhh, he shoulda been a comedian.

“That covers act one!” He crouched down again. “What worries me more is act two. What happens when we go back?”

Angel

" Not buppidy enough, " he replied monotonously before falling silent a few beats, " ... ... ... I dunno. I... didn' plan it. I don't even... " ~~Know if I CAN go back.~~ " I dunno. I'll... figure it out later - "

The mass grew a couple inches. " The fuck are _you_ worried about? This ain' got nothin' t' be doin' wit' you. "

Alastor

“You dare accuse *me* of being *worried*?” He planted a hand on his chest, scandalized. “Anyway, I could have asked you the same after you hauled me from the bar to your room! You owe me this one! Or I owe you one, whichever direction this thing goes.”

And Alastor was worried it *might* have something to do with him. If Valentino decided he needed to come confront his wayward worker—and if Charlie expected Alastor to be the one blocking the front door.

Angel

" They was ya exact words! " the bump exclaimed comically with a visible lean towards him, " I told ya, it didn' FEEL RIGHT t' leave ya in the middle a the hotel like a bump on a log, yeah? That's just _decency_ where I'm from. You don't gotta... "

Angel swallowed thickly as he tried to wrap his head around _whichever direction._ Was he looking to pay it forward? Simply get even in the transactional sense? The latter sounded more like him. The notion that he wanted the satisfaction in turn for doing someone a favor felt like it was _completely_ off the table, so they likely weren't going _there..._

_And his head started to spin._ " ... Ya don't gotta worry about m'boss... or my job... Ya already bought me some hours... That's... good... " _**SNIFFLE.**_

Alastor

A pause. “You’re right! *I* accused me of being worried! I don’t know how I’ll recover from this betrayal.”

Oh, no, was Angel about to get emotional? Alastor hoped that sniffle was from the damp. “Oh... don’t give me the credit, you bought yourself these hours.” He attempted an awkward shoulder pat. “Unless you mean back on Christmas, sure, although I don’t think that has much to do with this situation—” His eyes brightened. “Say now, how’s that for an idea? Go back and claim that at the last minute you got paid better to be somewhere else, give him his cut, do you think that would make all this blow over? You’d have to tell me, I don’t know him.”

Angel

Angel gasped with a violent flinch upon contact, frantically drawing the coat from over him as if he were drowning. Not being able to see Alastor coming was a mistake, but through a shot of wide eyes, Angel insisted nothing untoward happened. He clenched the bundled material in his lap and anchored his sights to it, shaking his head solemnly.

" His call tops e'rythin'. He wants me somewhere, I don't get t' tell 'im I got a better idea. It don't - ... it doesn't work like that. N - ... _no amoun' a cash's gonna fix what I did._ "

Alastor

Alastor pulled his hand back and raised them both up, palms out. Okay, no touching.

So he was more power-hungry than money-hungry. Pity. But something about Angel's reply rubbed Alastor wrong. *Fix what I did.* That sounded less like a fear caused by what Valentino was like and more like a fear cause by what Angel had done—and that made Alastor wonder whether what he'd done was something worse than simply skipping out on a shift. "And... what *is* it that you did, exactly?"

Angel

He didn't know why, but seeing both Alastor's hands up made him deal a double high - five. _See? Touch is fine! I can TOTALLY do it JUST FINE! HUZZAH!_

But his eyes stayed low, corners of his mouth twitching. It was hard to tell if he was about to burst out laughing or crying. Claws closed over his cheek and he turned his head towards the sea, as if the words he were about to say were the ashes of his soul to be put to rest.

He mumbled, " I broke outta the top story window, let the angels in, crashed 'ere. 'Splains the glass. "

Alastor

Alastor actually laughed at the double high-five. Okay! Unexpected, but entertainingly so!

And then let out another sharp bark of a laugh at the confession, less out of amusement and more out of surprise. “Well! You know how to make an exit, don’t you! Maybe you’ll get lucky and the angels will take care of the problem for you, eh? But I wouldn’t bet money on it.”

Angel

His cheeks rose in a weak smile that reached his eyes and not much else. " No... the angels wouldn' get 'im... He'd throw all of us to 'em first. Bet all our lives b'fore we even get a chance t' take a count. " ~~_Basically what *I* did..._~~ Angel winced at the realization.

Alastor

“Oh, keep your fingers crossed—who knows, maybe he had fifty meat shields and the exterminator that gets in will have a quota of fifty-one sinners to meet!” But there are no lucky breaks in Hell.

“Do you know what you’re going to do when you get back?”

Angel

" Don't matter i got _six_ to cross... he's still gonna be there, for sure... Waitin' fa me... " He pawed at the mass of hearts in his lap, raking through them, attempting to disrupt their pattern but they remained.

" ... Lookin' fa me. I don't - ... I don't KNOW. I _can't_ go back, but... What 'appens to a Sinner outta Hell too long? You're a magic man. Ya can pick up shit runnin' through Heaven, yeah?? What's it look like? " By this point, he'd crawled over the coat and put a tentative hand on the rock beside his hoof, pleading at him for an answer that'd lead to his least painful existence.

Alastor

His smile turned sad, without his noticing. “I can detect signals from Heaven. I’ve never been able to figure out how to understand them.” He sighed. “But, I do know what happens to sinners outside of Hell: same thing that happens to any soul in the mortal realm. You’d be a ghost. For now, you’ve got enough energy from Hell to sustain a visible, physical form—but over time, it will run low. Once you’re out, you’ll be another intangible spirit, detectable by the average human only as a shadow or an eerie feeling unless you find a source of energy to leech off of and study how to channel it. Maybe it would be different here instead of Earth, with so much more magic around that’s easier to absorb, but that remains to be seen.”

A vague shrug. He could ask Alexander, once he got the hang of drawing power through his radio, whether he collected power more easily here than Earth; and when Sir Pentious started living here for longer periods of time, if he ever got up to weeks, months away from Hell, Alastor could ask about his energy and whether he had to do anything to sustain it; but right now there was too much unknown.

“But visitors to Earth, angelic and demonic alike, are always on the lookout for fugitives. Usually, they’re just souls who didn’t pass over. They’re hauled in to their respective afterlives and that’s the end of it. I don’t know what they’d do with escapees.”

Angel

Angel swallowed thickly. " _I couldn' do that..._ " he whispered lowly, " _I'm too fuckin'... STUPID t' read through all that technical... spiritual... SHIT...!_ " Surely that wasn't the reason, despite how unintuitive it'd be for him. It was moreso his own frustration talking. His lack of tact. His inability to fully consider the consequences of his actions. Not to mention, REALIZE what he was doing until he'd already DONE IT. His instincts had protected his immediate future, but DOOMED him in the long haul.

" So I'd just... go back... no matter what... I can't just be ghostin' fo'ever... "

He melted into the ground, two sets of claws masking his face and wrenching through his hair. If he couldn't escape any kind of persecution, he'd take his chances with the angels... " No one... who's rumbled with the angels ever came back, huh...? " If Extermination Day was going to be his LAST, there's so MUCH he would've done ( most of which included hunting down all the people he already wanted to KILL, but nonetheLESS... )

" So that's it. Hide out 'ere until the angels find me. Take me back. Do whatever they're gonna do t' me. That's all I can do not to 'ave ta... _face 'im._ "

Alastor

“If it helps, I don’t think ghosts are given a how-to manual, and most of them get the hang of it.” But what did he know, he’d never been a ghost.

Alastor grimaced at that. “Well. No one who’s ever been executed by an angel has ever been *un*-executed. But people have survived close calls.”

He settled himself more comfortably, they were going to be here a while. “The way I see it, you have several options. One—“ ding, “—hide on Earth as a ghost. Some ghosts get away with it for centuries. Again, I don’t know if escapees are given higher priority than souls that have never left the mortal realm—but I’ve never met an imp who was *enthusiastic* about hauling in wayward souls.

“Two—“ ding, “—hide *here* as a ghost. Unless the powers that be *try* to hunt escapees on Okkylk—and if they were going to, we probably would have found out when Sir Pentious started spending nights here instead of Hell—angels and demons might never visit this planet. Why would they? It’s possible you could hide here indefinitely.

“Three—“ ding, “—hide in another ring of Hell. I have connections that can sneak sinners out of Pride. But being a sinner on the lam in another ring has its own perils, as you could imagine. I’ve turned back mid-trip if going forward meant putting myself in a position where I couldn’t walk back to Pride on my own two feet if I had to—I doubt you’d have that luxury.

“Four—“ ding, “—throw yourself on the mercy of somebody stronger than Valentino. If you happen to know any dukes who like to blow thousands on you and would be moved to tears by your terrible plight, now’s the time to dial them.

“Five—“ ding, “dye your fur, learn a new accent, change your identity, and go under cover.

“*Six—*” ding, “erase him before he can get his hands on you.

“And any of those could be combined to *great* effect with faking your own extermination. If you have any limbs you’re not fond of, all you’d have to do is toss one in a little pile of gore near where you were last seen!”

Angel

" I ain't gonna be taken by no fuckin' _IMP,_ " he grumbled, but seemed to relax some beneath the comforts of someone thinking for him when he had such shortened foresight. Slowly but surely, he started to remember who he was. " I ain't gonna _hide_ fo'ever either. I worked too fuckin' hard makin' m'name. If it'd all be fa nothin', I'd rather fuck off into extermination. "

Yet, the sternness of his words contradicted the shuddering, the fading pink of his bodily markings into the faintest grey.

" I know... some demons... but they're all either frien's a Big V's , or ain't gonna wanna make beef wit' 'im fa anythin'. Or care to if it's gonna mean they're losin' all the rest a his business. An' I'd be... in the same spot... caterin' to their e'erythin' an' if I don't - "

He stopped himself and curled up on his side.

" Madame... could... an' would, but she's got a deal wit' 'im I can't fuck with. I got a lot goin', but wit'out 'im I ain't got much t' bargain. He owns... ALL I got under contract. Everythin' but m'soul. "

Alastor

Everything but his soul. Alastor was silent a moment as he contemplated that, staring out over the ocean. Finally, he said, “Greedy. You wanted to have everything and you wanted it as fast as possible, didn’t you?” His tone wasn’t scolding.

“What are the terms of your contract? Any buy-back provisions, any terms under which it would immediately become void?”

Angel

" No... it was... slow... " he responded with an evasive weakness, " Yeah, I've always wanted t' be a star. Since I was human. But when I first dropped 'ere, I was... _fine._ Doin' what I was doin'. Workin' bars, streets, weapons. Until he showed me I could be more. An' I believed 'im when he said we was gonna be a _team._ "

He trailed off.

" I trusted 'im. Wit' everythin'. _And he wrung me the FUCK OUT fa E'ERYTHIN' I got._ There's... no way out. He 'ad me agreein' t' shit I shouldn't've. The way he talks an' the things he does... It's what he does. He can get ya agreein' t' anythin' he wants wit' just, a flick of his DAMN WRIST until he's covered all 'is bases. An' ya can't fight 'im anymore. Ya _belong_ to 'im, whether ya want to or not. 'Cause at the time he had ya noddin', everythin' just sounded... good. No fine print. It's ya whole _ass_ in bold. "

Alastor

“And who could pass up such a temptation.” It was damn foolish to trust anyone like that in Hell. But everyone had a bit of a damn fool somewhere deep inside of them, and the cleverest manipulators only needed to find the right angle from which to pry that fool into the light. “Do you have a written copy of your contract? Or was it all verbal?”

Angel

" Not me... " He picked himself up just enough to be eye - level with him. " Not... you, " he dared with an implicit confession before sitting back. " He has it. " Of _course_ he does. " I haven't even seen the damn thing in decades. "

Alastor

He didn’t react to the implicit accusation—but he didn’t deny it.

A sigh. “And I’m sure so much as *asking* to see it will raise suspicions. Not, of course, that you could ask even if you wanted to, if you can’t go back.” Damn. Alastor was sure the thing must have loopholes—*everything* had loopholes—but he wasn’t going to figure out what if he couldn’t see the thing. “What about your soul? Why *haven’t* you sold it? Does your contract stipulate anything about what happens if you do?”

Angel

" I... I don't... r'member... I don't think he thinks I got the guts. It was the one thin' he let me keep t' keep me thinkin' I stood a chance. I don't even fuckin'... know what HAPPENS or what it feels like t' not 'ave ya soul. He got me this twisted up wit'out it. Givin' it away would do me worse, wouldn' it? "

Alastor

"It would depend entirely on who you give it away *to!* And, say, whether they might let you buy it back. Mind, most 'sell your soul now, buy it back later' deals are designed to make getting out of debt practically impossible, *but.* Infernal law favors dealmakers who work in souls. In most cases, selling one's soul trumps any prior ownership claims over any other part of one's person. But you'd know better than I whether Valentino drafted your contract with a clause ensuring he'd maintain his holdings even if you sold your soul."

Every word of it was the truth—but consider the source when considering whether this was actually good advice.

Angel

He almost zoned out. It made much more intuitive sense to just KILL the bastard in place of reading between any lines. Which was what he was working UP TO before he blew it.

A grimace. " I doubt it, but then again, I don't know. Guess I'd... gotta get it from 'im if I really wanna fin' out. " He was nearly stark white. He had to keep going no matter how much harder he ended up making it on himself. Hiding would only be prolonging the inevitable. If he was going to end up going down, at the very least he had to take Valentino with him, or strongarm _some_ sort of upper hand... somehow.

Alastor

"Which brings us right back to the problem of your having to face him, doesn't it?" And even if he could get out of his contract that way, that wasn't going to do a thing to stop Valentino from coming after Angel if he was mad his prisoner was getting away. It addressed a long-term problem but not the immediate one.

Angel

He couldn't speak, only shudder. Angel had _nothing_ over Valentino. He was near certain he carried his contract on his person at all times. It was really seeming like there _was_ no way around it. Just a nod. A bitten lip and raking claws over his forearms.

" Can ya... hear what they're broadcastin' about? "

Alastor

Alastor hesitated, then shook his head. "Not without somebody opening a portal to Hell. I picked up a little trick recently that might be able to boost my power enough to listen across planes like that, but I'm reluctant to test it out in the middle of an extermination and risk broadcasting our location."

Angel

" ... Ok, wouldn' want that... " Angel replied meekly before staggering a shaky reach into the pool to pluck Pelagios from a pile of coral he was rearranging. " Later... could ya tell me? " He then sank his face into the seapup's head, clutching him dearly as he replied with vaguely confused burbles.

Alastor

"As soon as I can." He smiled wanly. "You're not the only one eager for news out of Hell."

He was cold again. He summoned up a big beach towel from indoors, and offered a second one to Angel.

Angel

" Thanks... " First things first, he could stand to feel more like himself. Angel let Pelagios down into his crossed legs and started drying his hair. So long as he was stuck, getting his mind off the situation was the best he could do, for now. Diligently he dried and out of his line of sight, Pelagios had escaped him to chew on a corner of Alastor's towel.

Alastor

He could restrain the urge to chatter for a moment. Let Angel have a second to recover.

He looked at the seapup gnawing on the towel Alastor had draped over his shoulders. And then, slowly, without looking away from seapup, Alastor stuck the opposite corner in his mouth and started chewing it.

Angel

" If I could get my hands on my contract, would ya help me figure out a way t' - " Angel slipped the towel off his head, hair a weird, frizzy mess and snorted at the sight. " Sorry, Schnookums! Took ya outta the water before you were ready, huh? " he said as he reached for Pelagios and attempted to gently ease the towel from his mouth.

To no avail. It seemed he made his choice. A tidepool rich with toys and potential snacks was second to gnawing on cotton and staring down the Radio Demon with the biggest, most impish smile he could muster.

Alastor

Ah, so it was to be a battle, was it? Alastor leaned away from Pelagios, tugging lightly on the towel as he did.

"If you get it, I can look it over." Somehow, chomping on a towel did nothing to hamper his ability to speak clearly. "I can't guarantee that I'll find a way to help—it depends on just how airtight Valentino's made his contract—but I know a thing or two about Infernal law and I have fiends in high places."

Angel

The little orange veci hopped forward, easily tugged but no less determined to win... whatever the object of this battle was to be. He was rested from his food coma and had a wake - up snack. All that was left was energy to burn. A nefarious glint in his eye, Pelagios dug in on all fours and started crab - walking to the side to tighten the towel around Alastor's neck. _Ruthless._

Angel clamped a claw to his mouth to stifle a laugh. " Thanks, I... I 'ave no idea how I'm gonna pull it off, but... " He thought a little bit as Pelagios playfully death - rolled like an alligator. " I'll get it, and uh - " A loud pulse echoed in his eardrums. He was running on sheer force of will at this point. " - worse comes to worse. Which AIN'T gonna happen. But if it DOES, er... "

Nifty and Husk didn't seem to have it all that bad. Of course, they were vastly different demons and if anyone knew how severely false pretenses could be it'd be him, but he still couldn't finish the sentence. Angel still wasn't sure if bartering his soul would be something worth resorting to.

" ... I double die. End of story. Fat Nuggets is gonna be goin' to Kyxs. "

Alastor

Alastor patiently allowed seapup to strangle him—goodness, what an inventive tike. He was going to be dangerous if he ever faced anybody who actually needed to breathe.

But his gaze remained on Angel, waiting for him to finish that sentence—*knowing* what it would be. They'd danced around the topic of strategic soul-selling already, after all.

When Angel chickened out before he could offer his soul up, Alastor was relieved. Alastor couldn't save face if he turned down the offer—but accepting it would be tantamount to directly challenging Valentino for ownership of Angel. Even if Alastor could legally finagle the transfer, there would be nothing stopping Valentino—and his allies—from going after Alastor.

There were friends he would risk his existence for. Angel *was* a friend, Alastor would concede that, but he wasn't yet on the VIP list. Alastor didn't want to have to tell him *no, I can't go that far for you.*

He placed his hand to his heart. "You have my solemn word that Fat Nuggets will not be made into bacon." His hand was immediately bound against his chest by the towel. "Oh, clever boy."

Angel

" Thanks. 'Cause if ya don't... " Angel, visage all but a void, crawled forward and gently swept Pelagios before he could make a full predatory circle around Alastor. It was clear enough to him that he didn't _mind_ being wrapped and was... perhaps a bit _entertained._ But he needed something to do with his hands. And he had to make some preparations. " ... It ain't like there'd be anythin' I COULD DO ABOUT IT. "

A knead - like rub between the fins of his head, and the Seapup started up a series of contented burbling followed by a slack jaw. " I gotta... go talk to 'em, " he said with a swipe of his things as he stood, " Ya... want any company, or should I take the lil' fella with me? " With a spare pair of arms, he dusted out Valentino's coat and wrapped the towel around his waist. " I could... leave ya with this, too... if ya liked wearin' it. It's pretty cold back 'ere and would be better to have that towel to sit on instead of the rocks, ah? "

Alastor

“Very true! The best guarantee you could get is sticking around to keep me on the straight and narrow! But that’s never entirely in our control, is it?” A wink. “Still! You should do the best you can.” The closest Alastor is going to get to saying *I’d like you not to get erased.*

“Take him, you’d get far more out of his company than I would. But I’d appreciate the coat! I was starting to get attached to it!” He stood as well, it didn’t seem appropriate to keep talking while seated. Especially since he had something a little more serious to share. “Before you go, I’ve got something else you might find useful.”

Angel

Angel rose a brow, not the least bit in the mood for some empty pep talk. Nonetheless, he gave a small smile and floated the coat over Alastor's shoulders. " Knock y'self out. Nevermindin' the extra arms, it suits ya better than me. _Nice 'n red -_ "

He cut his sing - song and canted his head. " Yeah? Ontop a some contract literacy? " His upper arms dropped to his hips as Pelagios cradled into his stomach. " What'cha got? "

Alastor

“They make for a lovely sash!” He tugged the coat back on and wrapped the extra arms around his waist again.

Once he tied them on, he turned his full attention on Angel. In what for him passed as a low voice, he said, “Now, I’m trusting you to keep this information to yourself. I’m not a dealer in contraband and I’m not looking for customers, I just happen to have a private collection. *But*, I happen to have in my possession two barrels’ worth of holy water—and I can increase that amount exponentially at a moment’s notice. If adding that to your arsenal would help you solve any of your problems... consider it at your disposal.”

Angel

He matched his drop in volume. " _Ya shittin' me._ " Though Angel knew he wasn't kidding in the slightest. Rejecting any semblence of good news was simply just a hard habit to break. " Angel weapons ain't exactly standard issue. How the _fuck_ did'ja get ya han's on _**holy** water?_ It really work like that? It really...? " A dark glint circled his eyes. " _Burn_ like acid? _Permanently?_ "

Alastor

"Would you believe *Valera?* They passed me a little kit of magical ingredients they happened to have been given but didn't have any use for. All the usual little herbs and spices, but *guess* what I found in the back and have been multiplying ever since!"

He leaned closer with a malicious grin. "I can't speak *directly* to its efficacy on sinners, because I morally object to experimenting with torture methods on humans test subjects—unless I happen to have someone on hand who deserves it, of course." Hand over heart. What a saint. "But every once in a while I'll scoop out a glass of the stuff and dunk a small demonic critter in to make sure it's still potent! And oh, yes, it burns like acid. It burns like napalm. Exactly as advertised. A little different for each creature, but never pretty."

Angel

Of _course_ he believed Valera. He believed Alastor, too. Who would've _thought_ that holy water was such a common commodity outside of Hell? ~~On second thought, that probably made a LOT of sense.~~

Angel bent an equal amount backwards. ( _The grin, the coat, the stature... a VAST difference compared to the image that flashed his mind and nearly sent him COWERING again, but nonetheless one he wasn't quite ready for._ ) A stiff exhale of his held breath and he quickly straightened up. ( _He could get used to this. He DESERVED to get used to this._ )

" Morally object t' torture experimen's on people? Never would've thought the big bad _Radio Demon_ cleaner than the _Outfit,_ " he teased with a matching lean forward, arms crossed and Pelagios thinking he's about to be handed off. _Look at those chubby little orange paws reaching for Alastor._ Angel's voice then dropped into a demonic growl. " So, ya think a couple gallons could fit a ten foot moth overlord's head? An' ya just gonna... give it t' me? "

Alastor

Oh, no getting in Angel's personal space today, all right. "The Outfit is evil for profit! I'm evil for fun! I think that puts me on slightly higher moral ground, don't you?" Studio laughter.

Baby reaching for him. Alastor automatically offered Pelagios a couple of claws to grasp on to. "Let's see, a couple of gallons is..." He conjured up two spectral red outlines of spooky floating milk jugs to hover next to Angel's head. "Should be plenty!" The milk jugs vanished. "Why shouldn't I? Once you know how to replicate it, the stuff's basically infinite!"

Angel

" _Touché ~ !_ No wonder I didn' fit in! " Pelagios let out a small SQUEAL of delight before grabbing both claws. Those four eyes sure are HUGE and soul - consumingly CUTE, but Angel playfully pouted at the comparison between his head, Valentino's, and milk jugs. " Buh - BUH! " He waved his arms through the projections and failed to stifle a snicker. " Not MY head! More like YOUR head! "

Angel then extended a hand to playfully ruffle Alastor's hair before drawing back. " Sorry, I mean, KIDDIN'! Thanks fa... the help... " he said sheepishly before drawing all four arms around Pelagios instead, just to find him very much attached. He gave him a little wiggle, but the seapup just took it as a means to wiggle Alastor's fingers. _So helpful._

Alastor

Seapup grabbed on. Alastor had a dull little burst of happiness that was quickly rolled over by a wave of old longing for a whole generation of young cousins who had once automatically latched onto Alastor’s fingers just like this and who by now were probably all dead of old age.

“It’s close enough! Most heads are about the same size!” And Angel’s was the only one available to hold phantom milk jugs next to.

Alastor automatically jerked his head back from the touch—before Angel aborted the effort himself. Alastor considered Angel’s withdrawn posture, and then the fact that they were probably going to be stuck with each other courtesy of Pelagios for at least a few moments longer; and then sighed melodramatically, tilted his head permissively, and said, “Oh, all right, go on. Just don’t spread the news or everyone will think they can get away with it.” He’d distract himself by wiggling his fingers right back, puppeting Pelagios’s arms in a little dance.

Angel

" N-no... I wouldn' wanna be doin' THAT to ya. I know how t' keep ya shit under wraps... " he said meekly before hesitantly reaching out. His hand didn't fall heavily, but light as a feather as he gingerly pushed his claws through the strands and reassured himself. _See?_ Sure was _Alastor's_ head, alright. Solid. With hair. Red hair with fading brown dye. A certain other Overlord - level demon wouldn't be caught dead with that level of inattention to his appearance. Antlers, not antennae. Ears. _Ya can stop bein' STUPID, now!_ With a ragged exhale, the last of his nerves ceased his shivering as he combed Alastor' s bangs back into place with the drop of his hand. A single, efficient movement.

Angel then stayed silent for a moment before being startled by Pelagios's jubilant squealing and animated dancing. " Ya _sure_ you don' wanna keep 'im fa a little bit? " he asked again with a gentle rub between the seapup's head fins. _Usually,_ that eased him up enough to release whatever death grip or lockjaw he had going on. " I'll come back an' get 'im from ya after I go talk to Kyxs, or ya can hand 'im off t' Valera if you see 'em. Whatever happens first. "

Alastor

His ears automatically flicked under Angel’s touch, but aside from that and his wiggling fingers he held perfectly still beneath the examination. There. Not so bad, was it? And maybe it would help Angel to relax a little.

“No no, that’s quite alright! I enjoy gently harassing small children, but I’m not terribly interested in babysitting one. You keep the kid and I’ll keep the coat.”

Angel

" Ok, say _bye - bye,_ Pelagios ~ " The seapup relaxed in Angel's hands and relented to being cupped over his shoulder with a turn towards the estate.

" _Blu - blu !!_ " he burbled with a double wave of his chubby citrine claws, lightly bouncing along with Angel's gait.

Alastor

"And a blu-blu to you, too!" He wiggled his fingers in a farewell wave at Pelagios.

Alastor made a mental note to make some discreet inquiries about how Valentino wrote up his contracts; and then he crouched down again to continue studying his tide pool.

#sluttyspiderpolkacock #chat log

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hawaiian-has-moved · 4 years

Text

Part one of (???) Of my redesigns + little character facts.

Beetleb*bes DNI

Seriously read my bio for once I saw you lurking on my rambles about this project.

(Stand alone character images are at the bottom.)

So these sizes are not based off hair. You can probably guess where skull shape is. So Lyds is like 5'0". Also they might change. I really hate to probably have to go back and redraw Claire or Vince, but considering they're all like 15 or so, they should be a tad taller than the cartoon canon. Considering they're like 12 then.

So besides all of that, let's get to little facts about everyone.

Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth:

Though this does take place after the musical, making it a more musical based lean, he can shape shift just as freely as you would think. Sometimes you'll catch him crack a witty joke or just simply get bored. He in these times usually has his head spin or disappear down into his collar to soon reappear with a different head. This includes the canon cartoon version or any of the actors from the musical who have portrayed him. Rarely will you ever find him making a joke referring to Keetlejuice. Also though not mentioned often, because that would be rather dull, he is aware of the multiple universes. 4th wall breaking narrator, remember?

Donny and him are siblings. Betelgeuse being the oldest. But sadly, not the closest like they were in childhood. He is the hated child. Juno actively (TW) abused him in his childhood and still does to this day. He often freezes up, clasps his hands together and looks at the ground when his mother is around. He does the same occasionally for Donny because he is often sent by his mother to go chew BJ out for something he did wrong.

He sorta of dropped out of elementary, so in his teens he had to pretend he went to school so Juno or his brother didn't find out. He met Jacques and Ginger in high school. Though Ginger did hold a romantic place in his hard for the beginning of high school. The rest of his time was mostly spent with Jacques. He thought it was just hang out times with the boys or something. What a lot of people had told him. But the two grew extremely attached. They dated until a little bit after high school. They got into a very bad argument and broke up. But of course time has healed it for the most part. They could not afford to part ways and live elsewhere, so the trio still lives together in the Roadhouse.

Current relationship wise for him, he is working on a relationship with the Maitlands. They're taking it slowly. He's really only gotten cuddles so far, but they're working to more personal things while they all heal. BJ felt awful for being so unaware of how relationships worked. Of course considering we already touched on Jacques. It's not the first time he was blind on how love works.

Lydia Deetz:

Lydia is 15 years of age. So this takes place almost immediately after the musical. She now happily has her ghost parents, her father, and her step mother who is now happily married to Charles. And of course let's not for get her cool uncle, the ghost with the most, Beetlejuice!

After some understanding and boundary building, the two explore the Netherworld together. BJ shows Lydia around and she gets to explore and meet new friends.

Back in the living world Lydia goes to an all girls school, and recently made up with a bully if hers. Claire Brewster. The two (read Claire's part for why) are now a happy couple. Of course there are the times where they try to kiss and Charles or Beej will rush in to stop them. Which is ironic considering Charles probably did the same at her age and Beej doesn't really know what he's saying and is just coping Charles.

Donny Rigel Shoggoth:

Ugh, sadly so much about Donny is under lock and key until the comic I plan on making after I do character sheets is to that point.

Donny is BJ's younger brother. He seems to oppose his older brother's aesthetic and has actively tried to say he needs a change in style. In nice and rude ways.

He has an oddly happy demeanor and seems to absolutely ignore the trauma and anger given to Beej from his their mother. He rather just blindly helps her.

He hates blue for some odd reason. He doesn't know why. BJ does though.

Prince Vince:

Prince Vince is mostly the same as in canon to the cartoon. A sad romantic prince who wants love.

But to touch on that he is just simply that, romantic. Pan romantic. He has never had feelings beyond romance. And yes, he is still a child and there is still so much he has to grow from her, but he doesn't really have interest beyond sappy poems and giving roses to the people he cares for.

Claire Brewster:

Lesbian ICON. Seriously her new aesthetic is just the colors of the lesbian community flag.

Lydia and her are a couple. But it's secret outside of the Deetz/Maitland household.

At home she is very neglected. Her parents are too rich to care and are often away. But she was raised to be the perfect model of a heterosexual girl. She wears different clothing from what she used to. Even though she doesn't like being a cardboard cut out child for her parents, she still enjoys girly stuff and somewhat formal clothing. Of course she can't step too far out of that around her parents or they might grow suspicious.

Like her parents suck. In the cartoon they'd run away, drive away, or slam the door in her face if she looked gross or was with something gross. They didn't not care. She was so disposable.

Aaand, that's all I have right now.

@aquatic-juice helped me with a lot of decisions on this. And a lot of the head canons on Claire's parents are things we've discussed and she has wrote about, so I have to credit her on that.

Tell me what you think. And again sorry I can't tell you more about Donny. It's a major plot point for a comic that connects this universe right after the musical.

Love you guys! 💚

Stand alone pictures:

P.s. no one is straight and if this pisses you off you're probably on the wrong side of tumblr.

#art #fanart #digital art #fan art #beetlejuice #digitalart #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice fanart #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice cartoon #beetlejuice the animated series #beetlejuice the cartoon #beetlejuice the broadway musical #beetleb*bes dni

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

for @youaremyworldlois ❤️️

ao3

“Do you wanna come stay with me? There’s room.”

“No, no, I don’t wanna get your dad sick on accident.”

“Okay,” Liz said skeptically, “I’m here if you need me.”

“I know, thank you, but I think it’ll be fine,” Alex sighed.

He was huddled in bed, trying not to pout too much about the situation for the last week. Starting Monday, classes would be solely online which sucked since he was a guitar major and there were few things more anxiety-inducing than being in a small apartment and practicing for hours on end. However, it was only made worse by the fact that he was stuck with his stupidly hot roommate that apparently didn’t have anywhere to go home to either.

“Stay safe, love you!” Liz told him.

“Love you too.”

The call ended and forced Alex to see that it was already 2PM and he hadn’t gotten out of bed. He decided to climb out of bed and face reality. He put on pants and a shirt, knowing damn well his roommate would probably be roaming around. He wasn’t even sure that guy even slept.

For the first two years of college, Alex had lived in a dorm with random guys that always made him uncomfortable. He hated living with strangers in just one room with no semblance of privacy, especially when he had no idea what they would do if they knew their roommate was gay. Then, whenever dorms would close, he would have to couch hop since there was no way he could go back home.

So, after his sophomore year, he started looking into off-campus apartments. He had a good amount of money saved up and all he had to do was find a roommate. It proved harder than expected because Liz already lived with her boyfriend and Maria lived back home, so he had to actually look for someone he could be comfortable with.

That’s when he found Michael.

Or, actually, Liz found Michael. He was her boyfriend’s brother and apparently a genius that doubled as a giant puppy. He was in a frat and had lived in his frat house for a while before deciding to move out so he could focus better in school. They’d met and Alex had laid out all his concerns and Michael had taken them all in stride, happily agreeing to whatever as long as he had a place to rest his head.

They’d been living together for about six months by the time schools were beginning to shut down and, the closer it got to when UNM would be closing, the more Alex got anxious. Living together for six months didn’t actually mean they hung out ever. Most days, they never even saw each other and he could count the number of conversations outside of ‘I’m going to the store, you need anything?’ on one hand.

But now, according to the fucking CDC, he was going to be stuck alone with him for the foreseeable future.

“Good morning,” Michael said, not even looking his way when Alex stepped out of his bedroom.

“Is it morning?” Alex asked. Michael looked up from whatever the hell he was doing at the coffee table and smiled.

“For you it is,” he answered happily.

That was another thing about Michael. He was so painfully heterosexual that he didn’t seem to have any idea what the hell that smile could do to someone like Alex who basically fell in love with any guy who gave him attention. It was the worst and it would the main reason Alex had no problem keeping his distance from him.

“So, quarantine,” Alex hummed, looking in their newly stocked kitchen for something to eat. He decided on toast and popped two slices of bread in the toaster. “Are you, like, gonna go home?” Alex already figured the answer was no since he didn’t go anywhere to Christmas, but he figured he should ask.

“Nah,” Michael said, “You?”

“Nope,” Alex answered, “So I guess we’re stuck together.”

Michael gave that overwhelming little smirk and licked his lips, cocking his head in Alex’s direction. “I guess we are.”

Alex turned to face the toaster and tried to think of how he was going to survive like this. Why did he have to be so hot and so straight at the same time? It just wasn’t fair.

When Alex had first met him, he’d thought that maybe he wasn’t straight. It was just a vibe he gave off and the way he sat in his chair. However, when he asked Liz about it, she’d basically laughed and said he was the straightest guy she knew. Then, when Alex inevitably let him know that he was gay, Michael just said ‘cool’ instead of coming out as anything other than straight. It was even further confirmed whenever he’d text Alex to make sure it was okay to bring a girl over. Which, that only happened about six times, but still. All girls. Straight, straight, straight.

Not like he’d have a chance anyway.

“What exactly are you doing?” Alex asked, holding a napkin under his toast as he walked towards the living room. Might as well get used to talking to him.

“A puzzle,” Michael answered. However, when Alex got closer, he saw what looked like the base of a miniature house.

“That is not a puzzle,” Alex laughed. Michael laughed right alongside him.

“Yes, it is! 3-D puzzle, it’s a replica of the Neuschwanstein Castle.”

“The what?”

“Sorry, did I pronounce that wrong? I didn’t Google it.”

“I have no fuckin’ idea,” Alex said, shaking his head. Michael gestured for him to sit on the other side of the coffee table.

“Wanna build it with me? Maybe we can actually bond for once?” he suggested. Alex huffed a small laugh and agreed, carefully sitting down across from him and placing his toast on the napkin on the table. “So, Alex, you come here often?”

“Is that how we’re gonna bond? Because I think I might have to go back to my room.”

“No, stay,” Michael laughed, “Help me build this thing.”

So Alex did. It was kind of weird actually spending time with him, but it turns out Michael wasn’t so bad for a straight guy. He was funny and a whole lot better at building than Alex was.

When the castle was halfway built, Alex felt a socked foot graze his calf. Every hair on his body stood up in alert, eyeing Michael in shock only to see him straight up steal the rest of his toast by shoving the entire thing in his mouth.

“Did you just eat my toast?” Alex scoffed. He was actually pretty thankful for the distraction because he would’ve hyperfixated on that little touch for hours. Who was he kidding? He was going to do that anyway.

“You haven’t touched it for five whole minutes,” Michael said, his cheek puffed out and stuffed with bread, Alex laughed, genuinely laughed.

“What is wrong with you? Were you never taught manners?”

“No,” Michael answered innocently. Which, honestly, just made them both laugh harder. “Also I lived in a frat house with, like, 10 other guys for two years. We consume or we die. You’re, like, the cleanest and most respectful guy I’ve ever lived with.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Want me to make you some more toast?” Michael offered. Alex smiled and tried not to become too obsessed with his charm, shaking his head.

“No, but I will take you up on a pot of coffee.”

“On it!” Micahel said, standing to his feet and showing that he was in nothing but a ratty old t-shirt and tight boxer briefs and socks with little koalas on them. Alex tried—and failed—not to watch him walk to the kitchen area and slide on his socks towards the coffee maker.

This was going to be a long couple of weeks.

“Hey, I hate to be that fuckhead, but could you turn your music down? I have a lesson.”

“No problem,” Michael said, turning his music down. Alex gave him a thankful smile and then quickly went to go to his online guitar lesson at his setup in his room.

He had his sheet music in front of him on his stand and his laptop propped up beside it, easily connecting whenever his professor started the video call.

It was weird, trying to take notes and adequately tweak them via video. He was used to being shown in person how to correct his finger placement or his posture. This was just... He wanted to go back to normal.

“Keep up the good work,” Dr. V said. Alex could tell, though, that he was just as irritated with the lack of hands-on teaching. Working with one teacher one on one really created a close bond of trust and familiarity. Alex could fuck up with Dr. V and not even think twice about it. They were like family.

And now it was fucking weird.

“I sent you scans of that more contemporary piece considering it’s less crucial for you to work on your performance pieces. Have fun with it, play around, show me what you come up with next lesson,” Dr. V added before saying his goodbye’s. Thankfully, that was Alex’s last class of the day.

“You’re really good.”

Alex nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened his bedroom door to see Michael loitering a few steps away. He looked like he’d been there for a while.

"Were you standing there the whole time?”

“Huh? No, I, uh, I was gonna ask what you wanted for dinner and then I heard you were still playing, so I was waiting so I wouldn’t interrupt you. And, well, you’re really good,” Michael said, his fingers tapping against his thigh as he rose up on his toes and dropped back down. His curls sprung with the movement.

“Thank you,” Alex said, trying to smile despite the fact that made him uncomfortable. As stupid as it was, he didn’t really like having random people hear him play. It was different when he was actually performing. Whoever was there came to see him and wanted to hear him. But, like this, it felt like he was simply being annoying.

“You know, I always wanted to play guitar,” Michael said, biting down on his lip just a little bit and Alex had to wonder why the hell he deserved that.

“I mean,” Alex started, looking around before being forced to look back at Michael due to the lack of scenery, “Maybe I can show you a thing or two sometime? I don’t just know classical.”

Michael split into a happy grin and bounced on his toes one more time. “Sounds super fun.”

“So,” Alex said, “Dinner?”

Michael blinked a couple times as if suddenly realizing where the conversation had originated. It was the cutest thing.

“Oh, right.”

“We need to do this more often, I think it’d help my fucked eating schedule.”

“Well, we can, if you want.”

“Cool,” Michael said all happily. They were making breakfast together like some sort of domestic couple, bustling around the kitchen to concoct something edible. Eggs, toast, and apparently Michael also needed waffles with those things.

Alex got to work on the toast and waffles while Michael made the eggs.

“Don’t put any pepper in mine, please, pepper makes me wanna gag,” Alex mentioned. Michael gave him a bewildered look.

“Says the guy who put, like, an absurd amount of Tony’s on his fried rice,” Michael scoffed. Alex grinned. He remembered that?

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Is it really?” Michael asked. Alex laughed and swatted in his direction. Michael grabbed his arm instinctually and tugged him closer. It caught Alex so off guard that all he could do was stare with wide eyes. Eventually, Michael seemed to realize that was a little fucking weird and let go, taking a step back. “Do you want me to put Tony’s on your eggs?”

“Yes, please,” Alex said, clearing his throat in an attempt to not sound like that was weird. Which, it was weird. And absolutely not at all good for him brain that seemed to think Michael was more and more lovable each day.

A couple minutes later, Michael got his attention again.

“Try this, tell me if it’s enough,” he said, holding up a fork with scrambled eggs on it. Alex looked between it and Michael’s eyes a few times before realizing he was just going to feed it to him. Is this what they did at the frat house? He would really like to know.

But, instead of questioning it, Alex opened his mouth and let Michael feed him the bite.

“Good?” Michael asked, smiling all proud of himself. Alex almost forgot what he was asking about.

“Yeah. So good.”

“I’m gonna go insane.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Alex hissed, covering himself with his blanket to try and stifle his words despite the fact that Michael was taking a shower and couldn’t hear him, “He’s so fucking cute and nice. Who allowed him to be both? It’s a goddamn crime.”

“Alex, his niceness is why you let him be your roommate in the first place,” Liz pointed out with a laugh.

“Yeah, so?” Alex groaned, “It’s overwhelming. Do you know what he does for fun? Puzzles. And then, last night I guess he ran out of puzzles, because I woke up at, like, three in the morning to get water and he was building a house of cards. Not just a house, a fucking castle. What the fuck is that? Why am I attracted to someone who builds card castles?”

Liz laughed even louder, “Alex, maybe it’s the quarantine. I mean, you’re stuck with him, so you’re bound to catch some feelings because they have nowhere else to go.”

“Okay, but he’s a straight guy that I once saw wash his hair in the kitchen sink on one side and defrost chicken on the other.”

“Ew,” Liz said.

“I know! And yet I look at him and want to put my head through a wall to stop feeling like a pile of goo,” he groaned, “Sometimes I think he is just instigating it.”

“What do you mean?”

“A couple mornings ago, he pulled me close to him and fed me a bite of eggs. Like, who does that? The more I think about it, the more I think he’s messing with me,” Alex whined. Liz was silent for a moment.

“Michael isn’t the type of guy to just, like, mess with people. Especially not his roommate,” she said cautiously. Alex didn’t know what to respond. “Maybe ask him not to do stuff like that? Ask him not to lead you on?”

“Okay, but I’m not going to ask him not to lead me on because then he’ll think I like him,” Alex argued.

“But you do.”

“But he doesn’t know that!”

“Hey, Alex?!” Michael called from the other room, very quickly making Alex panic about what he could’ve overheard.

“Yeah?!” Alex yelled back.

“Can you get me a towel from the dryer?! I washed them to take a shower and then I forgot!” he called. Alex gulped hard and looked upwards, letting out a quiet, strained noise.

“Yeah, gimme one second!” he yelled, “Okay, Liz, I gotta go, He needs me to get him a towel.”

“Seriously, Alex, you need to ask him—“

“Nope, bye! Talk to you later,” Alex said, hanging up before she could try to pressure him into having an adult conversation.

Instead, he went and fetched a towel and then knocked on Michael’s bathroom door. The door opened only a few inches, but it was enough to see a soaking wet body that was tanned and covered in chest hair and Alex realized he was beyond help.

Instead of risking saying anything embarrassing, he just held out the towel. Michael flashed a smile, a ringlet already forming against his forehead that dripped water onto his nose. How was he even real?

“Thank you,” Michael said, winking before he closed the door again.

Alex decided then and there that it had to just be hormones. He was going stir-crazy with nothing but hormones and a hot guy. That’s it. Because there was no goddamn way he looked that good. Alex had to be exaggerating in his head.

He just fucking had to.

“Okay, you promised me over a week ago that you’d teach me some things on the guitar and you still haven’t.”

“Okay, okay, come here,” Alex said. Michael smiled like a kid in a candy store and bounced on his toes before meeting Alex on the couch.

Alex had been a little bit better about keeping his distance and giving himself a reality check daily after the amount of wet skin he’d seen during the shower incident. That was really only two days ago, but still. He was reminding himself that he only felt so attracted to him because he had no other choice in the moment or something. Now, however, that was hard to remember when he was sitting so close.

Still, Alex handed over his guitar. Michael looked at him expectantly. It was almost too much to handle.

“Okay, so these things are called frets and the strings are numbered one through six going from this end to this end,” Alex said, pointing at what he was talking about. Michael nodded along. “Okay, so put your index finger on the first fret, second string. Middle finger on the second fret, fourth string. Ring finger, third fret, fifth string.”

Michael slowly did just that. When Alex reached to adjust his finger and hand placement, he let him. He listened well and molded to whatever Alex suggested.

“Okay, now strum,” Alex told him, listening to the sound it made, “And that’s C Major.”

“Oh, shit,” Michael laughed. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes.

For the next few minutes, Alex walked him through chords: A minor, G Major, F Major, the basics. He explained how to hold the neck of the guitar so it wouldn’t cramp up his hand and how to not press down too hard, but also not too light to get the best sound out of it. They walked through them and switching chords. Alex explained how it got easier with time and with calluses.

“And now basically you can play 90% of pop songs,” Alex said. Michael’s eyes went wide and he laughed.

“What?”

“Yeah, most pop music is made up of just those four chords or variations of them. Sorry to disappoint,” Alex told him. Michael shook his head.

“Show me another one,” he asked.

“Okay,” Alex agreed. He leaned a bit close again, talking and guiding Michael through the finger placement for D Major. But then Michael moved his hand off the body of the guitar and to Alex’s cheek, leaning.

For a moment, Alex was frozen and feeling more confused than he had in a long time.

“Sorry, do you not want to?” Michael asked after a few seconds of kissing Alex and Alex just not kissing back.

Logically, Alex should’ve explained that he was confused. He should’ve said that he thought Michael was straight and that, if he was indeed straight, he shouldn’t be doing this because this was mean. He should’ve been an adult.

But he had been stuck alone with him for three weeks and all sense of logic seemed to fly out the window.

Alex moved the guitar to the coffee table with one hand and grabbed Michael’s neck with the other. He pulled him in for a much more heedless kiss that the first one. Michael made a soft noise of approval as his hands went to pull Alex closer by his hips.

Things moved fast. If it were a normal circumstance or a normal situation, Alex would’ve thought it was too fast. But this wasn’t normal and Alex couldn’t contain himself. He’d been thinking about this for days. Weeks. Probably even months.

He let Michael kiss down his neck, he helped strip them both down, he happily melted when he was finally being touched by someone that wasn’t himself.

He enjoyed every second.

Alex wished his horny brain had warned him that the next morning would feel weird.

He woke up first and laid there, frozen on the couch for thirty minutes because he was too scared to moved. Michael was laying on top of him partially, his head on his chest and his thigh draped against his hips. It was the first time Alex had ever actually seen him sleep and so he was too nervous to wake him.

In that hour, though, he was able to plan what he was going to say. He was going to assure him that it didn’t mean anything and that things happen. It was just circumstances. They could still be roommates. Going down on a guy didn’t make anyone gay. He had it all planned and fully expected a breakdown the moment Michael woke up and realized what happened.

Only, again, he couldn’t have predicted what actually happened.

Michael woke up slowly, shifting a little bit and stretching his legs out. He didn’t jump or scream. He rubbed his thumb all the way from Alex’s nipple to his armpit and made a sweet waking-up sound before raising his head.

“Hi,” he said sweetly, his voice a little deeper than normal. It was jarring and Alex was trying to find the beginning of his speech. He was only more thrown off when Michael kissed his jaw and put his head back on his chest, seeming comfortable in their placement.

“Hey... Uh, maybe we should talk?” Alex said awkwardly. Only then did Michael seem to react, pushing himself up a little bit. He took in whatever expression happened to be on Alex’s face and sat up completely. Alex followed suit. “So, um, I’m sorry about last night. We’ve just been crammed together and stuff happens. I hope this doesn’t make it awkward between us. We can still be roommates.” Micahel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and, with each sentence of Alex’s speech, seemed to become more and more offended.

“What?” Michael asked, rubbing his face.

“I-I mean, don’t worry,” Alex assured, “What happened doesn’t make you gay and I hope you aren’t, like, weirded out by me.”

“Alex,” Michael said, voice matching the offended look as he held his hand up, “What the fuck are you talking about? Why are you acting like I wasn’t a fully engaged participant? Like, I did that on purpose, it wasn’t an ‘oops, tripped and fell onto your dick’.”

Alex gulped, shifting a bit as he began to feel offended. So he wasn’t wrong. Micahel had been leading him on.

“Okay, well, you can’t just act interested in me because you don’t have any girls to hook up with, that’s just—“

“Alex!” Michael said, cutting him off and looking at him with genuine hurt, “Why do you think I’m acting? What the fuck?”

Alex didn’t actually know what to say to that. He stared at him blankly, trying to think of a response that wouldn’t make this situation worse. But he figured he’d already ruined a soft morning by accusing him of things, so he might as well just say what he was thinking.

“You’re straight,” Alex said. Michael huffed a laugh, falling back into the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

“Why the hell do you think that?” Michael asked. Alex sat up pin-straight, looking at him in a whole different light by that one little sentence.

“You... You’ve only brought home girls,” Alex pointed out weakly.

“That’s just not true,” Michael said, looking over at him with amusement rather than anger. Alex relaxed a little. “Ari was a guy, you just didn’t see him, and Dylan was non-binary, you just didn’t see them either—and that’s just since we moved in together. You never saw anyone I brought over, Alex, don’t assume based on names I say and the way I look.”

Alex felt his face flush and he started feeling more than a little embarrassed. In fact, he was so embarrassed, he kind of wanted to cry. Or lay on the floor. Preferably both.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, dropping his head into his hands. Michael sighed and shifted closer, his hand pressing into Alex’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m honestly more concerned with how many allegedly straight guys you’ve hooked up with that you had a speech prepared,” Michael said. Alex laughed a little.

“I was the only gay guy in my high school, I got pretty used to it,” he admitted.

Michael clasped his hand over Alex’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. Alex melted into it, hoping that it meant he hadn’t embarrassed himself for life.

“I’m bisexual,” Michael said so confidently that it almost made Alex cry just by that alone. He was so sure of himself.

“So does that mean you were flirting with me?” Alex asked when he got to courage to raise his head. Michael huffed a laugh.

“Wow, thanks for noticing.”

Alex groaned, “God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Just, you know, head’s up, next time we hook up, I’d prefer to have the speech be at least an hour after I wake up,” Michael said. Alex groaned louder. “What? No cute remark about me saying next time?”

Alex held back a smile and glared at the boy in front of him.

“I already know there will be a next time because we are still going to be stuck alone in this apartment for at least a couple more weeks. It’s after that that I’ll have questions,” Alex said.

“So confident for someone so embarrassed,” Michael teased. Alex raised an eyebrow that said ‘am I wrong?’ He got a kiss instead of a response. “Here, to balance out your embarrassment, I’ll admit a thing. The only reason I brought that many people over was because I wanted to see if you’d get jealous and make a move.”

“I don’t get jealous, I just get confused.”

“Noted,” Michael laughed, nudging his nose against Alex’s. It was so much touching, so much affection. Alex couldn’t remember a time anyone had done that to him in a non-platonic way. “Point is, I liked you the moment I met you.”

“Liz insisted you were straight so I kept my distance until I couldn’t because I didn’t wanna catch feelings.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah, oops.”

They both laughed for a few seconds before it slowly died down through Michael giving him full heart eyes. It made Alex’s heart go a little haywire.

“Okay, so now that we talked, can we have a redo of last night where you don’t think you’re getting head from a straight dude?” Michael asked. Alex flashed a smile and nodded.

Who knew something good would come out of this?

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #i chose to leave out the part where all classical guitarists have really long right thumb nails #because while that would be accurate it's kind of a weird attribute #i knew one classical guitarist who bit all his nails except the right thumb #that bitch was like 2 inches long #he was a DAMN good player tho

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antiadvil · 4 years

Text

5 times Dan and Fiona were not dating (and one time they were)

summary: Dan has been confused about her sexuality for a long time, and Fiona isn't helping. Or maybe she is?

Labels are overrated. Having sex with girls is fun. Just as long as there aren't any feelings involved. And there aren't any, right? Right?

rating: M

wc: ~2.8k

chapter 1/12- I’ll get you lost (but I’m having fun)

first chapter on ao3 | tumblr masterlist | next chapter on tumblr

notes: a gift fic for @itsmyusualphannie

Dan didn’t know how to play poker. Most friends would probably take this opportunity to try to teach her, she figured. Not her friends.

“We could play strip poker instead,” Fiona joked.

“I still don’t know how to play poker,” Dan protested. “Don’t you need to know regular poker to play strip poker?”

Fiona shrugged.

“Do you want me to lose?” Dan demanded.

Fiona smirked, looking Dan up and down. Dan suddenly felt very exposed, even though her jeans and long sleeved T-shirt were covering most of her body. “I mean. I wouldn’t be complaining.”

Dan’s face flooded with heat. Fiona was still joking. Right?

“We can’t play strip poker; Dan’s the only straight one here,” PJ joked, bumping Dan with her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want her to feel left out.”

Dan dropped her cards. “I-”

“PJ! Leave the poor girl alone.” Chris elbowed her and smiled across at Dan. “I want you to know, Dan, that I support your heterosexuality, even if PJ doesn’t.”

“Thank you,” Dan mumbled, trying to pick up her cards without letting anyone else see them. Not that it mattered. She was still going to lose.

“I don’t,” Fiona deadpanned.

Dan rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Fiona. Glad to have a friend I can always count on.”

“Of course.” Fiona smiled sweetly.

They played regular poker, to Fiona’s disappointment. Dan lost. Multiple times. She idly wondered what happened in strip poker if you ran out of clothes to take off. Did you just start tearing your skin off? Was that the end of the game?

Chris and PJ left early, claiming they needed to work on a group project (“It was the only time we could find that worked for everyone, can you believe these people?”), leaving Dan and Fiona alone.

Dan thought it might have been the first time she and Fiona were ever alone together. She had known PJ and Chris for a year or so now, ever since they met in their first semester English class, but they hadn’t introduced her to Fiona, who they had known in high school, until earlier this year.

Dan didn’t dislike Fiona, but she was a little bit intimidating. She wasn’t an English major like Dan, Chris, and PJ, her major was something to do with technology- Dan couldn’t remember what. She was openly lesbian, and Dan was very confused about her sexuality, and the fact that Fiona was very pretty was not helping.

“Should I go?” Dan asked.

Fiona looked confused. “Why would you go?”

Dan shrugged. “I’m the only one left. I don’t know, it feels weird.”

“I mean, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. It’d be nice if you did, though. Besides,” Fiona said, walking to the kitchen and beckoning Dan after her, “Look what I have.” She pulled a bottle of vodka from a cupboard.

“Were you hiding that earlier?” Chris had asked if Fiona had alcohol when they first showed up, and she had said no.

“Don’t tell Chris,” Fiona said. “I provided free alcohol once and now she expects it every time she comes over.”

That did sound like Chris.

“Tell you what,” Fiona said. “For such a special guest, I’ll even get out my real shot glasses.”

“I’m honored,” Dan said sarcastically, but she felt a smile tugging at her lips.

Fiona handed Dan the bottle of vodka and pointed her towards one of the doors in the hallway. “My roommate’s out tonight, but just in case, let’s move this to my room.”

It took Dan a moment to find the light switch in Fiona’s room. Fiona’s room was about what she expected- small, a messy desk in one corner, brightly colored sheets on the bed.

Dan liked it. It felt like a room that belong to Fiona.

Fiona entered the room behind her, holding two shot glasses. She took the bottle from Dan, poured the alcohol into the two glasses and passed one to Dan. “Here you go,” she said.

“Cheers,” Dan said, clinking their glasses together and immediately feeling stupid.

Luckily, Fiona didn’t seem to mind. “Cheers,” she smiled, tossing her drink down her throat.

Dan did the same, grimacing immediately afterwards. She never got used to the taste of vodka.

“Another?” Fiona offered.

Dan shook her head. “No thanks. I’m good for now.”

Fiona nodded, collecting Dan’s shot glass and setting it aside with the bottle of vodka. She sat cross legged on her bed and patted the spot next to her. Dan sat down.

“So,” Fiona said, leaning forward, her chin on her hand. “Are you really straight?”

Dan startled. “What?”

Fiona shrugged. “You got weird when PJ said you were straight. That’s all.”

Dan hesitated. Sexuality was a sensitive subject for her. She’d spent most of her life determinedly not thinking about it. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, she had reasoned, but lately, she wasn’t so sure.

“It’s okay,” Fiona said. Her eyes were bright and blue, reflecting the light. “I won’t tell.”

“I dunno,” Dan confessed. “Girls are kind of hot, but I don’t know… everyone thinks that.”

Fiona snorted. “No they don’t.”

Dan rolled her eyes. “I mean, not like, a lot. But a little bit.”

Fiona quirked an eyebrow. “They really don’t.”

Dan was starting to feel a bit silly now, but she had come this far. If she backed down now, she’d just feel even sillier. “Girls are always looking at other girls, telling them how pretty they look-”

Fiona laughed. “Dan, you sound like me when I was in grade school. Trust me, when those girls compliment you, they’re not thinking about having sex with you.”

“I mean-” Dan’s face felt warm.

Fiona leaned in closer, so close Dan could smell the soft rose of her shampoo. “Why? Are you thinking about that?”

Dan opened her mouth to respond, but her brain took this moment to go on vacation somewhere very far away. Hopefully it was somewhere sunny. Maybe it even had a beach. Dan wished she could join her brain there.

“Um,” she squeaked. Fiona’s face was very close to her face. Her eyes were so bright, and they weren’t really blue, Dan realized- they were a million dizzying shades of colors all at once, all green and blue and yellow. “What?”

Fiona leaned back. “Sorry. Ignore me. I’m just…” She flicked her hand. “I really need to get laid.”

Dan’s face felt even hotter as her imagination ran in directions it really should not be going.

Fiona noticed. Why did Fiona always notice? “Did that make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to-”

Dan shook her head. “No!”

“Okay…” Fiona said slowly. “Why are you all red then?”

“Just.” Dan took a deep breath, stalling. “Thinking.”

“About?”

Dan’s face, which had cooled a bit, was hot again. She looked down.

“Oh.” Fiona smirked. “You want to.”

Dan opened her mouth, but her brain was still on vacation.

“It’s okay,” Fiona said. She was leaning forward again, not quite as far as she was earlier. Her hand slipped out to grip Dan’s thigh. Did her eyes drop down to Dan’s lips or did she imagine that? “You don’t need to be scared.”

Dan was leaning in too. Her brain had decided to return from vacation, but all it could focus on was the steady pressure on her thigh, the growing warmth in her core, how achingly perfect and pink Fiona’s lips were.

“Can I kiss you?” Dan whispered.

Fiona hesitated. “Look, Dan, yes, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea- I mean, you’re cute and all, but I think we’d be better off not in a relationship.”

“I wasn’t saying- I don’t want-” Dan protested.

Fiona looked relieved. “Okay,” she said, and quickly closed the distance between them. So quickly that Dan barely had time to react before Fiona’s lips were on Dan’s, and oh.

They were so soft, and Dan suddenly felt incredibly self conscious about how chapped her lips were, how rough they must be, but then Fiona opened her mouth, and Dan could taste the vodka on her tongue, and there was no more room in Dan’s head for insecurities.

Fiona tugged her own shirt off before reaching to tug at the hem of Dan’s. “Can you take your shirt off?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dan said breathlessly. She lifted it over her head with shaking fingers, balling it up and tossing it to the side, where it landed on top of Fiona’s shirt.

Fiona closed the distance between them again, but she didn’t kiss her just yet. “You’re so pretty,” she whispered. “God, you’re so fucking pretty.” She kissed her then, slow and sweet.

Dan kissed back, breathless, hoping Fiona couldn’t feel how warm her face was getting again.

“You really sleep with boys?” Fiona said. “God, they don’t know what they’ve got.” She kissed her again, pushing Dan so she was lying down. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Dan couldn’t help but moan at that, pushing her hips upward against Fiona’s body.

Fiona smiled. “Are you ready?” she asked.

Dan hesitated. She was, but- “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.

“It’s okay.” Fiona’s voice was soft and reassuring as she straddled Dan, pushing her further into the bedsheets. “I’ll show you.”

***

So maybe Dan was a little bit gay, she thought. Or maybe a little bit more than a little bit gay. That was what having sex with a girl usually meant when you were also a girl. Especially if you really enjoyed that sex.

Dan filed this piece of information away to think about later. Now wasn’t the time to have deep, introspective thoughts. Fiona was lying next to her and being very cute. She should focus on that instead.

“We have to cuddle afterwards,” Fiona pouted. “I always cuddle afterwards.”

Dan rolled her eyes, but she rolled herself closer, so her head was resting on Fiona’s shoulder. Fiona wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Don’t be shy.”

“I’m not,” Dan protested into her neck. The rose scent of her shampoo was even stronger from here, and her skin was a little bit sticky from sweat. It was a little bit nice- like they were glued together in the places their bare skin was touching, Dan thought.

It was also a little bit gross, but Dan had decided not to think about that.

“You can touch me,” Fiona said. “It’s okay.”

Dan reached across Fiona’s body, putting a hand on her hip, tracing circles with her thumb. Fiona hummed quietly. “That’s nice,” she said.

Dan’s other hand was a bit too awkwardly positioned to reach most of Fiona’s body, but it could reach just far enough to land in Fiona’s short, dark hair. “Hair,” Dan mumbled, because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

Fiona laughed. “Hair,” she agreed.

Dan thought her head must be short circuiting. It was just hair, she reminded herself. Lots of people had hair. Lots of boys had hair, but she’d never felt this way about a boy’s hair.

Of course, boys’ hair was never this nice. Fiona’s hair was so soft and nice smelling and Dan wanted to run her fingers through it, so she did.

“I like your hair,” she said.

“It’s good hair, isn’t it?” Fiona agreed.

“Now,” Dan said, “No need to get conceited.”

Fiona shoved Dan away playfully. “Hey.”

Dan pouted, opening her arms and giving Fiona her best puppy dog eyes. “Come back.”

“Apologize.” Fiona demanded.

Dan pretended to think about it.

“Apologize for upholding a patriarchal system where women are expected to-”

“Geez!” Dan said. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Fiona said. She moved smugly into Dan’s arms, resting her head on her chest.

They stayed like that for a few moments. The rise and fall of Fiona’s chest was surprisingly calming. Dan tried to match her breathing for a bit- it was a nice relaxation exercise, she thought. Like meditation, except better.

“I have a dumb question,” Dan said.

“I have a dumb answer,” Fiona said. “Hit me.”

Dan tried to resist the urge to make the obvious joke, but failed. “Didn’t know you were into that.”

Fiona kicked her shin. “Hey.”

“Ow,” Dan said, even though it hadn’t really hurt.

“Sorry,” Fiona said, kissing the top of Dan’s head and moving closer so their legs were tangled together. “What’s the dumb question?”

“What’s your major?” Dan asked.

“Philosophy,” Fiona said.

“Oh,” Dan said.

“What did you think it was?” Fiona asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“Weren’t you doing STEM or something?”

“Oh.” Fiona’s face cleared of confusion. “I started out as a CS major, actually. I switched last semester, though.”

“Weird jump,” Dan said.

“Not really.” Dan could feel the movement in Fiona’s shoulders when she shrugged. “Theoretical computer science and philosophy are a lot more similar than most people realize. Lots of logic things involved.”

Before Dan had time to feel stupid for not knowing anything about Fiona’s major, Fiona changed the subject. “You’re an English major, right?”

“Yep,” Dan said.

Fiona dipped her head into Dan’s hair. “Ha. I got it right.”

“Right,” Dan said. “You’re a better friend than me. I get it.”

“Aww,” Fiona said. “I didn’t say that.”

“I did,” Dan said.

“Are you saying something mean about yourself?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, stop.”

Dan considered it. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you,” Fiona said.

“Maybe I want you to.”

“Yeah?” Fiona turned her head to place a kiss on Dan’s collarbone.

“Yeah,” Dan breathed.

“Well,” Fiona said, “I’d love to, but it’s getting really late.”

“Oh.” Dan tried not to sound too disappointed.

“In fact,” Fiona said, reaching to check her phone, “It’s past midnight. You can stay over if you’d like, but if you’re not, you should probably head home. I’m going to bed soon.”

The offer was tempting. Dan kind of wanted to stay like this forever, but she did have a lot of homework to get to the next day, and she didn’t like the idea of running into Fiona’s roommate, or anyone really, the next morning. She didn’t need anyone to know what they had done.

“I think I’ll get going,” she said.

Fiona nodded, though she looked a bit disappointed. She sat up, reaching for her clothes, and Dan thought she might cry at the loss of her warmth.

She thought that immediately sobbing might not be the best look, so she just gathered her clothes and got dressed.

“Did you bring anything else?” Fiona asked, cracking her door open.

Dan shook her head. She had everything she had come with.

“Okay then.” Fiona walked Dan to the door, where she wasn’t quite sure how to say goodbye. A kiss was way too much, probably, maybe a hug? A handshake? No, definitely not a handshake-

“Text me when you get home,” Fiona whispered, hugging Dan tightly. Okay then, a hug. Dan clutched her back, sinking into her warmth. How was it possible for a human being to be so warm?

“I will,” Dan promised, reluctantly letting go.

Fiona nodded, pressing a light kiss to Dan’s mouth. “Good,” she said. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will,” Dan promised again. She stared for a moment back into Fiona’s eyes, wondering if she dared kiss her again.

Fiona shoved her lightly away and grinned. “Now get out of my apartment, loser.”

Dan was normally good at banter, but something about Fiona’s eyes were throwing her off today. “No, you,” she managed.

Fiona rolled her eyes. “See you.”

“See you.” Dan turned away, finally, and started down the stairs, her lips still burning from Fiona’s kiss.

It was colder than she expected outside. Dan had only worn a light sweatshirt- she hadn’t been expecting to leave so late, or for the temperature to drop so much while she was inside. She shivered, pulling her hood up.

Luckily, her own apartment wasn’t too far away- just a ten minute walk. She unlocked her door and slipped in quietly, hoping she wouldn’t wake her roommate up. There wasn’t a light from under her door- she was either still out or she had already gone to bed. Dan stayed quiet as she moved to her room, just in case.

back, she texted Fiona before tossing her phone on her bed. She could really use a shower, but she was also incredibly tired, so she just changed into her pajamas and tossed her dirty clothes on the floor. She could pick up her laundry and take a shower in the morning.

She flopped down on her bed, rolling over to check her phone one last time before she fell asleep.

I had a really good time tonight and I hope you did too :), Fiona had messaged.

Dan relaxed a little bit. Fiona had certainly seemed to enjoy it, but there was always that doubt in the back of Dan’s head.

i did :) Dan texted back. She hesitated, then added, i’m glad you did too :)

Disgusting. Way too many smiley faces. Who was she becoming?

She didn’t want to think too much about that question. She set her phone aside and rolled over, going to sleep.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #my writing #wlw!phan #femslash

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stuffwedoistotallynotillegal · 4 years

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A Different Kind; Norman Bates x Male!Reader

Could you please do a Norman Bates x male!reader where the reader doesn’t think that Norman would ever like him because he’s a guy? (Reader is also unaware of Norman’s blackouts, like the half of the town that got straight up murdered)

Warnings: repressed sexuality, homophobia/biphobia, slurs, bullying, profanity, sex, mention of sexual assault/harassment, some minor OC characters for plot

Author/ A/N: this has a long build up, and is kind of bad and angsty until it isn't (and by 'bad' I mean most of the trigger warnings are in the beginning.), in fact, if you are interest in reading this, but don't want to read the parts with all the traditionally bad triggers mentioned, then under the asterisks is the fluffy love stuff. This might be the longest thing I've ever written.

It started when you were young, the toxic air around anything other than heterosexuality. You remember the kids on the playground yelling the godforsaken word at you. The 'g' word. No rhyme, no reason. You didn't understand what it meant until the summer you were fourteen, when you were sitting in the backyard at Jacob Smith's birthday party. By then most kids didn't care what sexuality anyone was, but there were still kids who felt the opposite. You had sheepishly asked what it meant when the discussion was on former president of the mid-1800's James Buchanan's potential homosexuality. It was an odd topic, but somehow that's how the conversation had flowed naturally.

You sat quietly in thought, knowing deep down you had some sort of attraction to boys. Or at least, you weren't repulsed by the thought of kissing one, or marrying one, or... more.

The next school year brought you into the cold grips of highschool, where you found yourself on new, unfamiliar ground. Second semester of freshmen year was your first experience with another boy at a senior's house party. The senior was a Saint of a girl, a cheerleader with the popularity of a popstar, but heart of an elderly neighbor who bakes all the kids on the block cookies.

You had been in the backyard with a sophomore named Connor O'Reilly. The conversation had been fairly deep, you were comfortable talking to him. As you sat in the cool, crisp spring air you dared to look at Connor through the dark. His eyes were on you, and before you knew it you were both leaning in until your lips touched.

Just as you were getting further into the kiss the door slammed open. Out walked the Varsity Quarterback, only a junior. He yelled inside to his friends, then at you and Connor. That was the first time ever being called the 'f' word.

Connor, who happened to live just down the street, bolted, leaving you to deal with the football players on your own. However, the was no way Steph, the cheerleader, would allow one of her freshman babies to deal with the football team on their own. After being ripped a new one by Steph, the jocks shuffled back inside with tails between their legs and blushes stained on their necks and cheeks. You cried in Steph's room the rest of the night.

The next day you were pushed around, but only in places your couldn't be protected. In the lockeroom you were spanked and whipped with damp towels, and one of the seniors made another freshman steal your underwear. The message was clear, so, like any logical kid with nowhere else to turn, you repressed your sexuality.

It didn't stop the abuse.

That summer was one of the best you've ever had. Your family went across the country to visit family, there you met many people like you, forming a few causal relationships. The first time you truly let yourself free, and god it felt great. And when you got back to school you stopped caring. Their words didn't matter to you, didn't cut like they had. You started seeing things for how they were, and how surprising to find that many of you oppressors were people repressing their own issues: sexuality, emotions, homelife. You started responding to their hate with love, and it worked. It worked well on the Quarterback, too.

His name was Mark Thatcher and it was one of his friend's parties where you saw him across the room. Summer had treated him well for his final year in highschool. Earlier in the week he had shoved you into the locker, yelling in your face. You had just muttered back a quiet, calm "It's ok, you'll be ok." He had blinked at you before letting you go and walking away, glancing back once before turning the corner.

He looked good leaned up against the wall, chatting with the coach's son. Mark shifted his eyes around the room before meeting yours and quickly looking to the side. Nearly half an hour later you had walked out of the bathroom and straight into a muscular arm. Mark had stopped you.

"So," he paused "are we doing this or not?"

You looked at him before pulling his face to yours, you let him push you up against the wall and deepen the kiss. It wasn't long before he lead you both into a bedroom. It started off desperate and hot and quick, but as it went on something deep within Mark broke and his actions got rougher. He was muttering slurs that were more self-directed, and you were telling him to stop. You felt tears hit the skin on your back and you pushed him off. He stepped off of the bed and backed himself up against the wall, head in hands and breath erratic as he slid down onto the floor. He was shaky as he sat on the floor and cried.

You got off the bed and walked to him, offering your hand to hold. He pushed you away, not in anger or disgust, but in pain. Pain with himself. You got up and cleaned yourself off, before getting dressed. By the time you were done Mark had calmed down and you helped him clean up and get his clothes on. You offered to let him walk out first and he just shook his head, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room. He didn't walk back to the crowd with you though.

The next school day there was a rose taped to your locker with a note reading 'I'm sorry". You never hung out with Mark again, and he never bothered you for the rest of high school.

After that senior class had graduated everything began to run smoothly, you had made new friends, paved new roads for the other kids who were different.

It was an overcast day as you walked down the sidewalk in front a couple shops, ducking your head down as your thoughts swirl through. You glance up to catch eyes looking at you.

After realizing it was Norman, you look back down and tense up, trying to ignore the feeling of your stomach twisting and fluttering with butterflies. You keep walking, not letting your head think too much on how his lips curved upwards when you met his eyes. You continue on your way.

There’s no need in longing for something that will never happen.

The next day is when you quite literally run into him. Norman steadied you with a small grin.

“Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” he chuckled.

“Oh, no!” you interject “I wasn’t either, its just as much my fault.”

Norman’s smile only grew, “I guess both of our minds are elsewhere, huh?”

You look down and lick your bottom lip, “I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” you hear him say, voice soft.

You bit your lip and look up at him, shaking your head, cheeks pink. “Absolutely not.”

Norman nodded and stepped to the side, releasing his delicate grip on your arms. You moved on, telling him to have a nice day. He wished you the same.

You saw him a week later while he sat on a bench at a park just a town over.

After a day of following Steph around while she was back from University, you finally ended up on a swing with her on another while she talked about her life in higher education.

“And I just don’t understand how he could think we’re the issue when the entire class is doing poorly! You know? Like, I understand you’re considered an expert in your field, Dr. Smith, but no one else in your class is, so maybe you should consider teaching us better.” Steph ranted on as you looked across the landscape to find Norman’s nose tucked in a book.

“Anyway, I’m just ranting, I’m so frustrated! I’m sorry, how are you, Y/n?” Steph’s empathetic voice moved your eyes back to her as she lightly swing back and forth.

You feet were planted under you as you swayed left and right. You nodded to the bench across the way.

“That’s the guy I was telling you about.”

Steph’s head shot to the direction, hair whipping in her face.

“Oh?” her eyes darted to find a person before landing right on Norman, “Oh.”

She slowed her swinging to a stop and stared for a moment, “Okay, I see.”

You snorted, “What does that mean, Steph?”

“I mean he’s cute! I understand why you like him.”

“Yeah, right? It’ll probably never happen, though.” you sigh, kicking a rock to the side.

“Um? Why not?” Steph had her eyebrows raised as she looked at you.

“I don’t think he like guys.” you shrug.

Steph stared at you a moment, slack-jawed before laughing. “Dude, he’s literally been sneaking looks at you since we got here. He definitely like you, at least.”

“Wishful thinking, but thanks.”

“Are you joking?” Steph reached over and pushed you. “Who wouldn’t? You’re fucking hot!”

You leaned forward, giggling as Steph nearly lost her balance and fell out of the swing.

“I’m serious, Y/n! Anyone would be lucky to be with you; you’re a catch.” She said it like it was a straight fact.

“I miss you, Steph, why’d you have to leave me here? My ego misses you even more!” you jape.

Steph rolled her eyes and stood up, walking toward Norman.

“Steph, where are you going!”

“To the car, loser. Luckily, you’ll have to pass the love of your life to get there.” she walked away cackling.

You were able to get back to the car with little issue. In fact, you managed to have a brief, pleasant conversation with Norman along the way. Steph couldn’t stop giggling the entire way back, muttering smug “he likes you”‘s to you throughout the whole ride. You just rolled your eyes until you got home.

Weeks had passed since then and Steph was gone again, but you had managed to have many more pleasant--and not so brief--interactions with Norman in those weeks. You were finally in a place where your face wouldn’t get too red from the interactions. It was fantastic.

Then the day that changed it all happened. The day Norman asked you out. On a date.

You had nearly spit out your drink when he did it, looking over to him with wide eyes.

“Why?” you asked.

Norman’s brow furrowed, “Because I like you. And I thought that maybe you might like me?” He opened his mouth to speak again, but you beat him.

“I do! And I will! Go out with you, I mean.” You look over to Norman and saw his wide grin, brow still furrowed.

“I just,” you pause a moment before continuing “I didn’t think you, you know. I didn’t think you liked men like that.”

Norman moved closer to you, “Well, I like you, Y/n.”

You looked back to him, eyes drifting about his face before smiling back and speaking.

“Okay. So, what are we going to do on our date?”

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allnewalldifferentwildspider · 5 years

Text

Why I Dumped...RWBY

If there’s one thing I’ve learned being in fandom is that the audience is not allowed to dictate creative changes to someone else’s work. That is not your place. The trade-off is that you don’t have to be a member of that audience. Once I learned that, I decided that if a series pissed me off one too many times, I would just straight up dump it. Adios, amigo. Go piss someone else off with your shit stories. There are a hundred other things I could be doing with my time.

When I tell people this, they usually get defensive because sometimes the show I dumped happens to be a show they really like. Which is fine. If it works for you, great. Have fun. But we all have our tastes and personal preferences.

Sometimes that just isn’t enough for people. They have to know why you would insult them (I’m not and neither are you) by not liking something they like. I doubt most care. Some people just want to be offended. However, there have been some people who are genuinely curious. Usually people who are neutral to whatever show I dumped. They have no dog in this fight; they just want to see my train of thought.

So you asked for it and here it is. This is my new blog post series where I talk about why I dumped a series. Let’s see if my story and logic will help you see things from my perspective. Let me be clear, I’m not trying to convince you to change your mind. This is just the story of why I made this decision. If you like this series good for you. I don’t. It’s my opinion and I’m allowed to have one same as you.

We’re going to start off big with RWBY.

For me, RWBY started off as one of those things I kinda heard about on the internet, but never really knew what it was. Then it was on Neftlix and I decided to check out what it actually was. It was a CGI webseries made by the same company that did Red VS Blue led by the guy who did those weird Dead Fantasy videos on YouTube. I watched the first two volumes (because they just can’t be called seasons. We have to be all special and shit) and I wasn’t sure what to think of it. I guess my brain needed time to process it. I watched it again with my brother and then I started volume three on my own. After the volume three finale, I stopped watching and just kept tabs on the show before losing interest completely. There are several reasons that just piled up together so let’s just start at the beginning.

I just don’t think the show is very good.

It was a fucking chore to watch volume one again with my brother. Like holy crap, why wasn’t the show this bad the first time I saw it? Was it going to suck this hard with every viewing? (SPOILER ALERT: The answer is yes.) A lot of the character models look really pale. The animation can be wonky or jittery. The voice acting goes from bad to passable. The pacing is wack. The story is barely told. We spend way too much time on Jaune even though we already have FOUR main characters we have to be tackling. And this is a pet peeve of mine, but they gave names to things that already have names.

semblance = super power

aura = energy

Grimm = monsters

Why won’t anyone just call super powers super powers?

Anyway, those were my initial thoughts. A recurring thought I have about RWBY is, “The idea is adequate but the execution is lacking.” Someone asked me what that meant. Really? Really? You don’t know what words mean? Google it. Your ideas are okay, but the way you’re doing them sucks.

So if I hated the show so much, why did I stick with it after volume one? I liked the characters. I fell in love with Yang. She’s all my favorite parts of female characters put together in one awesome package. A blonde busty badass babe that beats a bunch of baddies? Sign me the fuck up. (Alliteration is fun, kids.) Thanks to some really good fan art, I also started to ship Arkos, Renora, White Rose and Roman Ice Cream (or gelato or partners in crime or whatever it’s called). I wanted to see more Yang and I wanted to see if I would get a payoff after investing so much time.

I didn’t.

youtube

The story goes all over the place. It introduces a bunch of new ideas but never sticks around to develop one. I’ve lost track of how the world works and what our goals are. They created side videos called, “The World of RWBY” that explains that shit. That’s another sign of bad writing. Supplemental material to understand what is going on in the story isn’t fun; it’s homework. More importantly, I shouldn’t have to. It should be organically in the story itself. But it wasn’t because this crew doesn’t know how to. It’s just not there.

Pyrrha’s Death

The main reason I stopped watching after the season three finale. I understand that everyone wants to do their own version of Empire Strikes Back or Avengers: Infinity War. The big battle where the good guys lose. I have several problems with this though.

1. I agree with Linkara that the only reason you should kill a character is if you’ve ran out of stories to tell with that character. Cheap drama should not be your goal. The problem with shock value is that it only lasts for a second.

2. You should never kill a fan favorite. That’s how you lose audiences i.e. money. You don’t sell your golden goose, and you don’t kill your cash cow.

I don’t believe that Pyrrha had ran out of stories to tell with her character. Pyrrha was killed just to further Jaune’s story arc which sucks because I barely liked Jaune. I shipped Arkos because I wanted good things for Pyrrha, and really, who doesn’t?

This unfortunately common trope is Stuffed into the Fridge, where female characters are killed for the sole purpose of a male character’s story. It doesn’t matter if Pyrrha was the best warrior in the class or had friends who could have helped her or she could have just ran away or anything really. Pyrrha, my second favorite character, was killed off to jump start Jaune’s character development. Fuck you, Rooster Teeth. And the worst part is, I heard that this was always the plan for Pyrrha. If you have to rely on a trope from 1994, you’re probably not a good writer.

I cancelled my Crunchyroll subscription, and a few people told me to get the fuck over it.

No. My time. My money. Not interested.

Yang wasn’t ‘for me,’ apparently

This one has a little less to do with the show and more with the fandom (or FNDM, because we have to be all special here). Like I said earlier, I fell in love with Yang. She became my number one waifu instantly. She had everything I liked. Big boobs, long legs, blonde hair, fiery personality, loved to kick ass, loved martial arts, had a great zest for life. It’s like that song lyric, “You are everything I want ‘cause you’re everything I’m not.” I know it’s super embarrassing but I would fantasize about being a character in RWBY and being Yang’s boyfriend. Whenever I would work out I would say it was because I was training to be Yang’s husband. I know it’s lame, but that’s how enamored I was.

Hell, Yang was the reason I even considered watching RWBY in the first place. I only discovered her thanks to that episode of Death Battle where she beat Tifa.

Then bumblebee happened.

People on tumblr have this thing where they like to decide what someone else’s character’s sexuality and gender is regardless of the canon. Do whatever you want. The problem was that I am a straight, cis, heterosexual Hispanic male with a tumblr account who likes a character who mostly shipped with another female character. So whenever I try to get matchups or headcanons or imagines, I’m usually ignored. I’m a big boy. I can handle that. What does get under my skin is people going out of their way to tell me that Yang isn’t for me. Like I’m not allowed to like her. When you’ve already lived most of your life with other people telling you that the things you want were never really for you, that sorta thing kinda hits you in the wrong side of the feels. Yang is for bumblebee and bumblee shippers only. I’m over it, but still not cool.

Now I’m hearing that Rooster Teeth might make bumblebee canon to appease the fans. No artistic integrity. I guess I was wrong. The audience is allowed to dictate creative changes if you’re Rooster Teeth. It doesn’t help that Blake is my least favorite character in the series.

I was upset when Adam cut off her arm in the end of volume three. It didn’t help that it was the same episode that Pyrrha died. Two birds with one stone and all that. I’m glad somebody made a supercut of Yang’s volume four story on YouTube. That was good to watch. It was kinda like Korra’s story in the beginning of Book Four (ugh, just call them seasons!) except with a fraction of the talent.

I haven’t watched anything beyond that, but I have heard of a few things. I’m glad Adam is dead, but that’s about it.

So that’s mostly why I dumped RWBY. Sorry if it was too much, but thanks for reading. Do I miss the show? Not really. I do miss Pyrrha, Yang, and the fan art. Will I ever go back to RWBY? Sorry but no. That’s not how that works. The damage has been done.

tl;dr version

I dumped RWBY because:

I didn’t think it was very good to begin with.

They killed my second favorite character for a shit reason.

My favorite character isn’t ‘for me’ according to everyone else.

#why i dumped #rwby #anti rwby #yang xiao long

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sitnorelle · 5 years

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Part 1

When Filippo agreed to come to Marti's party, he didn't expect much. For all he knew it was a stupid thing for people from the radio, but somehow Marti managed to invite most of his friends, which now apparently included Filippo. It was a pleasant surprise, even though he knew that him and Marti had grown close. For some reason parties stopped being his thing. Don't get him wrong, he liked going to them, but there was never a guy who caught his eye enough for him to take him home. So he stopped going for a bit. He wouldn't go to this one either if it wasn't his Rose who organised it. Well, that wasn't the full truth. Ele had come back home a few days ago and she wanted her return to be a surprise for the girls. So the plan was that she would tag along with Fili. He promised Martino he would help set up the whole party but Ele took her time to 'look presentable', which meant that they were now late. Not by much, but they were supposed to leave 5 minutes ago.

"Hurry up! What's taking you so long?"

He rang the bell at Martino's door and waited. It didn't take long before the door opened, letting all the noise out. Ele hugged Marti and rushed to greet the girls, who started screaming at the sight of her. Filippo laughed and also hugged Marti, who was delighted to see him.

"How are you, my dear Rose?"

Martino smiled.

"Come in, Jack, I want you to meet somebody."

"Ooh, am I finally gonna meet your boo, your one and only, the one that stole you from me?" This made Martino laugh.

Closing the door, Marti grabbed Fili's hand and dragged him into the living room. Fili immediately spotted two boys near the Christmas tree, hanging balls onto it. He suspected they were Marti's friends, since there was no way someone as pretty as the dark haired one would willingly sign up for something as weird as the radio. He only saw the boy from afar, but hell, he was a sight for sore eyes. Then he noticed that Marti had stopped dragging him and they stood behind some guy that was greeting Ele.

He turned back to Marti and mouthed 'Is that him?' to which Marti nodded. Fili checked him out and showed his friend two thumbs up. That was a good catch.

When the boy turned around and the two of them were properly introduced, everything made sense. Marti and Nico fit together so beautifully that one would believe they were made for each other. And maybe they were.

After a few minutes of the three of them talking, the adorable couple was called to the kitchen by Giovanni. An emergency, he said. So Fili was left alone to wander around the apartment. He stopped not far from the Christmas tree, just observing the cute boy that caught his eye. When he dropped one of the balls, Fili made sure to get it before him so he had an icebreaker. He needed to take this chance, this was just the pull he needed, and he didn't hook up with anyone for days now. While he held the ball in his hand, he watched the boy get taunted by his friend and then walking around to look for the lost decoration. This was the moment. He stepped behind the boy and spoke.

"Are you looking for this?"

Filippo's breath got caught in his throat when the boy turned around with his mouth opening slightly. Those eyes were breath-taking.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Filippo."

"Um, hi, I'm Elia."

The stuttering was adorable. Fili had a feeling he just shook the boy's world.

"Elia. It suits you. A cute name for a cute boy."

Jackpot, Filippo thought when Elia blushed. He handed him the ball.

"This is yours, by the way."

The words broke Elia out of his stillness, he took the ball, but not without brushing his fingers against Fili's. It made both of them smile.

"I'm glad I can finally meet the guy who stole Marti from us. Well, the other guy, since we've already met Nico a few weeks ago. You're.. pretty. Sorry, gotta go, Luca is waiting for me. Thanks for the ball!" Elia blurted out and almost ran away from him.

Filippo smiled. This party was actually gonna be fun.

He was catching up with Marti, since he hasn't seen him at all this week, when he felt someone come up behind him.

"Hey Marti, can I smoke here or do you want me to go outside?"

Martino grimaced and then smiled apologetically.

"Could you go outside? Nico would want to smoke too and he shouldn't. Plus my mom wouldn't be pleased, I think."

Elia nodded understandingly and turned to go, when Fili's voice stopped him.

"Wait! Can I go with you? I'd kill for a smoke right now."

After getting an unsure nod, he smiled at Marti, got up and followed Elia into the hallway. When he took his coat, Elia shot him a suspicious look. Fili just smiled in response and opened the door for him.

When the boys stepped outside, they both shivered at the cold. Clutching his coat tighter, Elia took out the weed.

"Hope you didn't want a normal cigarette, I don't have those."

"Nope, this is fine."

They stood in silence for a while, just passing the joint between them. Then, as if in a moment of bravery, Elia quickly turned towards Filippo.

"Wanna shotgun?"

Fili raised one eyebrow.

"Or not, nevermind, it was stupid," he added looking embarrassed.

"It's not stupid, I just didn't think you'd be up for it. Didn't know how comfortable you were with your heterosexuality."

Elia huffed but didn't comment on any of the things Filippo said, instead just beckoned him closer and brought the joint to his lips. Fili stepped closer, so close that their bodies were almost touching. Elia leaned in and exhaled, looking directly into Fili's eyes as the older boy inhaled the smoke. Filippo stared right back with the same intensity as he exhaled the smoke for Elia to inhale it again. The moment the smoke left Elia's lungs, Filippo leaned over and kissed him. He expected to be pushed away, yelled at, maybe even punched, but instead of all that Elia grabbed his ass and pulled him even closer, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. Filo happily reciprocated, pushing the younger boy against the wall and picking him up seconds later. After more heated kissing, both of them pulled back to catch their breath, just staring into each other's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm definitely not straight," Elia laughed breathlessly.

"Wanna head to mine?"

"What about your sister?"

"She's staying with the girls, they have a lot of catching up to do. So?"

Elia nodded. Filippo set him down and grabbed his hand, tugging him along the dark street.

"Wait, I have to text Marti that I'm leaving."

"You gonna tell him his best guru is going to fuck you tonight?"

Elia blushed, but still fished his phone out his jacket and opened the Contrabbandieri groupchat, firing off a quick text then immediately shoving it back in its pocket. They stopped at the bus stop, so Elia leaned in to kiss Filippo again, who was more than happy to pull him close. Before it could turn heated again, the bus arrived and they got on.

To Contrabbandieri di Luchini:

Had to head back home, sorry for not staying to clean up.

To Rose:

It was nice to meet Nico, but the night calls. Text me if you need condoms, my dear Rose!

#can be read as a standalone #elippo #skam italia #fic #filippo sava #elia santini #my fic #skamit #bi!elia

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hootpoop12 · 5 years

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Theory time

Alright, so we all know through the context of this being written in a fanfiction/a03 format that this is all a play about canon VS fanon. What is a little hard to decipher is what are the things that are plays off fanon and which qualities are the true aspects of the characters(canon)? ANYWAY here are just a few of the things I am ASSUMING are plays off fanon based on my years in the fandom and sheer obsession of consuming this shit (trigger warning for everything taken place in the epilogue FYI):

-Dave: I think some of the main aspects of fanon influencing his epilogue version is intertwined with “woobifying”, “Slow burn”, and even possibly even “sexuality”.

-Woobifying is a fandom concept of reducing a character to “a cinnamon roll too pure for this world” someone you wanna baby (often applied to trans guy characters whether canon or headcanoned). This one is a bit of reach I’ll admit because it DOES makes sense that after years of living with Karkat the dude would soften up but there were times in the epilogue even Dave admits he’s gotten softer and the dude just plain out was very passive. In my time I’ve seen tons of depictions of Dave as a lot more emotional than shown in the comic or a lot more woobified in fics (like in meteor fics where he often has very dramatic emotional outbursts) By the way this is NOT me shitting on you if you like viewing Dave in that way because a lot people with trauma relate to him and use him for “cathartic release”(me fucking too lol). It’s more a guess/observation of maybe why he’s developed in this way due to the comic now being a strange sponge absorbing all fanon, good and bad, into it weird ass grasp.

-Slow burn is likely the trope that plays into why the hell it took so fucking long for him AND Karkat to admit their feelings. If you have literally ever consumed Davekat content I’m sorry but 99% of it is slow burn lmao every meteor fic is pining, every coffee shop AU is the budding of a lifelong partnership, and every Harry potter furry inflation pwp crossover WHATEVER fic is 10k words building of sexual tension like......To bring their other relationships in canon into this we can see that Dave was able to flirt with Jade and Terezi and entered a relationship with them at a pretty normal rate WHICH can totally be attributed to the fact he views them as girls and himself as heterosexual so was much more comfortable making a move- sure. Looking at Karkat, however, and you see the dude is a little shy about romance sure but he was still able to flirt with Terezi and make awkward moves on John so like......I can’t help but to feel like something outside (us?) was influencing them?

-Sexuality is another sort of reach but I think it’s something to consider. In terms of the comic....when exactly DID canon end? You could argue at the end of act 7.......or the moment John used his retcon powers to create a new timeline. Fandom Dave (on the tumblr side at least) was usually consider queer and a lot people shipped Dave with another dude. Perhaps John going back and rewriting canon helped bring our influence over Dave’s sexuality into the comic? I remember finding out Davekat was canon and confirming my “Dave is bisexual” headcanon and just thinking in wonder how it felt like Hussie was plucking my desires straight from my head and incorporating them. Which made me HAPPY by the way. If this is anywhere even near truth it’s not like he didn’t do a fantastical and natural job of incorporating it into the comic which shows how “incorporated fanon” is not a totally horrendous thing. The comics always done it with fandom memes and such.

-Rose Lalonde. Not too sure what fanon influenes were brought onto her to be honest? In candy she was almost like a creepy stepford wife which is. Bizarre to me. Rose is the most contrary and rebellious character so seeing her settle down like that (OR FUCKING DOING SOME GUYS LAUNDRY) is a little strange. In meat she insists that she is an individual despite being married but that could have EASILY been Dirk’s influence? Also her biggest fandom stereotypes off the top of my head is Know-it-all smug meddler, alcoholic, and elegant. Really none of that was applied so still need to consider her more. The most damning thing however is where is all the piss?? If you look at the amount of piss kink rose fanfiction one has to wonder......and I can’t even continue this joke.

-Jade Harley: Gonna keep it real with ya’ll. I feel like this epilogue gave Jade Harley way more character. She wasn’t given much in canon except for lonely silly girl so it makes sense to me why she’d grow up desperate for physical bonds and inserting herself into relationships. I liked her telling John that she wasn’t some princess in a tower anymore cause it shows she KNOWS how everyone has always viewed her and that’s a little sad. As for tropes around her character.....yep people pleaser, silly girl, hippie, shoved aside for literally any other character......Need to think about her more, too.

-Jake fucking English. What even is there to say? He more than anyone was influenced by fanon and it doesn’t take too much thought to see how. In a lot of fandom jokes and in fanfiction he is basically treated as a stupid piece of meat. I genuinely don’t read much fanfiction about him except from a trust few fans who I know care about him and will write him in a full rounded way. In any case we see a single moment in which Jake has this oppressive narrative taken away from him and it was when he was talking to Dave and Karkat during their election conversation. If that wasn’t already hard enough to read we can look back at the implied rape that took place with him in the beginning of Jane’s relationship with him or over the course of it. John, the one person supposedly not influenced by fanon as he’s still tied to the comic via retcon powers, is even the one to tell people that Jake is basically being raped. So yeah. Good times. I’ll get to Dirk in terms of Jake in a moment L M A O. Imagine that being the saddest lmao you ever just read.

-Jane Crocker: Welp hope you weren't a Jane fan lmao. What can I say except it FEELS like all the subliminal messaging really got to her and she’s like......warped by the condesce? I think if in the comic they showed more of her political takes then maybe this wouldn’t have come as such a shock. Like, I flat out am disgusted by her character now? She’s a facist, abusive, rapist(that was hint, unfortunately)? WOW good take homestuck writting staff?? I mean I know one of you used to write like incest pedo rape porn but aight??????????? Anyways in fanon Jane is treated as the girl who gets in the way of dirkjake so kinda that early 2000s bitchy yaoi girl brand, boring person in the background, or the hottie. They obviously kept saying she was “easy on the eyes” so there’s the hottie trope but that’s about it.

-Roxy Lalonde: Out of ALL the Alphas they fucking escaped with their goddamn dignity PFFT. So in terms of tropes: trans Roxy, alcoholic, and flirty “boy obsessed”.

-So with trans Roxy this is like Dave’s sexuality thing I discussed where a widely celebrated headcanon influenced canon and that not necessarily a BAD thing. Like I said, this theory is that canon is just absorbing fanon for better and for worse. I saw people were bummed they weren’t a trans girl but I am actually down with this for two reasons. 1) being all those memes “what’s your gender?” “the void” and 2) a part being friends with someone who’s trans is.....not being used to seeing them as the gender they actually are but taking the time to learn these new unfamiliar pronouns- and get the fuck over it. It’s their choice and you just gotta accept it despite your feelings.

-alcoholic Roxy was not at all incorporated which is the biggest fanon about her (not as much in recent years thankfully) so honestly? Kinda diminishes my argument. It’s not like the writers were worried that tossing out their progress as person was bad writing lol look at Dirk.

-Flirty Rox. In candy they were SUPER fast moving in their relationship with John and despite towards the end they said that Dirk dying made them wanna do something with their life I just....don’t buy it? Mainly because john who is uninfluenced by the fanon tropes even noticed how fast they were moving and how stepford agreeable wife she’d become.

-Dirk Strider. Aight. So. Here we go. fandom tropes are controlling puppet master, abusive, and cold/uncaring.

-Dirk is a naturally controlling man, yes. Every version of himself struggles with this, yes. Even if we work on issues does not mean old flaws will never leak out, yes. However, after in the comic itself we see conversations with some of his closest companions and the effort he was making and ready to continue making was completely obliterated. Dirk is someone who takes his projects a little too seriously so why would he toss out this one- the most important one in his life? ANYWAY........Dirk in canon is shown that he’s also not great at multi-tasking or really anything that he really makes himself out to be AMAZING at. Don’t get me wrong I actually view Dirk as a complement dude cause he did get all the alphas into the session in a smoothish fashion (yes hal is him so it still counts) but, like, even when Dirk sounds like an AWESOME engineer to Jake he even admits that he basically had the future’s technology to help and it wasn’t that impressive. So now he’s claiming he’s the BEST? Wack.

-Abusive Dirk......The sheer amount of people in the fandom who still misconstrue his character as heartless and the sheer amount of fanfiction of sociopathic Dirk might’ve done something. If he is truly becoming his “ultimate self” and he is heart aspect.....all these fanfiction splinters are getting applied to him as well, ya’ll. INCLUDING one of the epilogues writers who literally used to write fanfiction depicting Dirk as a brutally abusive and manipulative version of himself. With the similarities between their big fic and the homestuck epilogue I can’t help but to wonder if they’re subtly trying to incorporate that? After all Alt Calliope goes into detail about how the writer/narrator is IMPORTANT and when one is someone who enjoys viewing dirk as such....well who’s to say pfft Everything about how Dirk treated Jake was some of the most shocking to me. How did you get the guy taking most of the blame for a relationship gone wrong to a man who in a very rapey way makes someone obsessed with him, stupid, and unable to ever receive respect? Horrifying stuff to read, lads. It makes much more sense to me if you look at this fandom’s perceptions on DirkJake. My god there are some bad takes and there’s a whole section of the fandom who was hellbent on making the ship out to be the most problematic ship to ever occur. So whereas in the comic you have Dave pointing out that both sides had issues and everyone was willing to talk things out you had half the fandom insist that it was all Dirk’s fault and he just COMPLETLY forced himself on an unwanting Jake. Yep, sound familiar?

-cold uncaring. yep tons of depictions of Dirk being cruel to his friends and family and sorry but go reread Homestuck I don’t even know what to tell you if you actually believe that. There’s literally nothing here I could write to help you. As if the whole thing about his character isn’t about how the people around him helped prevent him becoming like that and he hasn’t said in a dozen different ways how much he loves them and wants to treat them better. Get out of here with that shit lmao

I guess all can be said about Dirk at this point is either 1) the absorption of the vast amount of terrible Dirk depictions from ascending to his ult self has warped him 2) he’s playing a villain just because Homestuck being over means not existing which TERRIFIES him and existing is a higher priority than treating the people around him right or 3) caliborn influence

1) For the ascending I’m pretty sure this is the theory that’s gonna be right

2) playing the villain is probably not what it is because on twitter all of the writers are saying the transphobia is literally just him and they’re boosting a lot of theories say “this is a story about friends you love disappointing you and you moving on” So. Yeah. Take that depressing nugget of information. (I literally will be fucking dead inside if that really is where this story is taken. No joke I will probably quit this fandom lol don’t know if any of you really know how big that is for me to say

3) Caliborn? eh maybe who the fuck knows after typing that last bullet point out I’m too bummed to continue this hah

#Homestuck #Homestuck epilogue #upd8 #dirk strider #personal #fyi I love people who tell me when they disagree so if this seems like utter bullshit do not hold back

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janiedean · 5 years

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Why do you think the SW fandom is so knee-deep in SJ Calvinism? Because I understand wanting representation or being upset because a movie didn’t fulfill your expectations, but the “if you don’t ship X you’re racist” “if you don’t stan Y you’re bigoted” and the harassment over a disappointing movie is surprising just because of how pervasive it is. I was trying to find some St*rmpilot blogs to follow and the amount of hate is Yikes, especially the hate for Rose and the stans of a Certain Ship

eeeeeeh I think it’s because ep. 7 came out at the height of the... well, reaping the seeds the social justice calvinism had sown since 2014 so to speak? I mean, SW is hardly the one fandom where it happened (*cough* voltron and SU *cough*) but as SW is way broader in audience than those other shows that certainly didn’t help, but like, if you think on it, since 2013-ish (but I think before as well, I mean, I’ve been here since 2011 and already when I got here I felt like something was going very wrong when it came to politics-in-fandom-attitude), basically people on tumblr have progressively, when it came to fandoms:

pushed the idea that you have to over-analyze everything you consume through political lens;

pushed the idea that what you like and how you like it also has to be pushed through political lens and what you like says things about who you are as a person or your political leanings;

pushed the idea that if you care for something *problematic* just because you like it you’re excusing it;

pushed the idea that if you were problematic once you can’t ever not be problematic, you can’t change your mind and you can’t learn also because ‘it’s not my job to educate you’ so people either learn themselves or idek what but again, calvinism.

now obviously those politics are tumblr-politics which are also US centric like woah and are also high-school petty like woah, and since more or less then people have:

continuously other-ed lgbt people from *straight*/heterosexual people pushing a narrative where straight = bad and therefore putting it before anything automatically makes it a valid insult which added to the above means that if you ship het you’re already problematic regardless of whether you’re straight or not (and if you are.. lol);

pushed the performative feminism of Doom TM that says men and women should be equal but is like, an excuse to shit on men and on women who like men (see the rampant biphobia around and the whole ‘straight girls are so stupid if they’re into men they should try women’ discourse);

pushed the US terminology when it comes to the POC discourse, in the sense that everything works on the US-centered context where white people = white anglosaxon protestant, poc = everything else without realizing that in the rest of the world white does not equal wasp, that poc = black people only in most of europe (and no one who’s actually black or not white who lives in africa or asia and so on would describe themselves as poc because why the hell would you when your skin color/ethinicity is the norm where you live?), which also goes with the whole white passing debate which where I live would not exist but in that context is a mess because again, oscar i*saac is schroedinger’s poc (as in, he’s poc automatically for american standards because he’s latin-american but like he has the same skin tone as my mother and my mother in italy is white same as 90% of us, which means endless confusion) and assumed that all of us have to accept that terminology/context regardless of whether it’s valid in our countries;

kept on progressively putting minorities against each other in an endless loop of WHO HAS IT WORST/oppression olympics;

kept on progressively split hairs on issues that aren’t exactly, like, that important if there’s more urgent stuff to deal with because 90% of the activism here is performative;

made the 180° turn for which headcanons and shit are seen as, like, doing representation instead of, you know, supporting what rep is there never mind when people decide *one* ship is the right one and if another is canonized and it’s rep it gets thoroughly ignored;

pushed on a mindset for which if something isn’t perfect at the get-go then it’s canceled.

and so on.

like, all of that shit has been continuously not criticized because criticizing it especially if you don’t belong to a minority means that you’re out of line/discussing things that don’t concern you, but if you’re a minority and you criticize it then it’s suddenly YOU BETRAYED OUR CAUSE *INSERT SLUR HERE ABOUT PANDERING TO THE MAJORITY*, and the result exploded in toxic af fandoms, but like... if you look at the issues of the SW sequel trilogy fandom it’s all of that in a nutshell because:

k/ylo ren is automatically the worst because he’s white (horrible), a man (even worse), not canonically attractive (I didn’t touch on that topic bc I’m honestly not up for it mentally but lmao that counts too) and presumably heterosexual (or well, no one said he’s not but you know, since he’s a white dude on the bad side [supposedly] then we don’t give him the benefit of the doubt that he might be bi), so if you like ky/lo ren or relate to him you’re automatically problematic;

shipping re/ylo because automatically problematic because it’s a *straight* (evil) ship made of two white people (when there’s options to ship them both with people that aren’t white, so IT’S RACIST), they have an age gap (BAD BECAUSE POWER IMBALANCE) and it’s enemies to lovers, so it’s a context where people who don’t conceive redemption or that people can become better are basically crying problematic all the time, and the fact that people decided it’s *abusive* when it has like nothing that can equate it to a really abusive relationship says all;

ky/lux being the most popular slash ship immediately means that it’s the fault of the horrible straight (white) women fetishizing the (white) men on the dark side (when it’s most likely because for a while ky/lux was literally the only side of that fandom where people were chill/there wasn’t wank every other moment);

st/ormpilot has been declared The Right Ship because it’s two non-white men and it’s not straight which automatically turns into what I said before about hating other ships that would be rep anyway and feeds into the lowkey oppression olympics racism, because like if finn/rose becomes canon it’s still a mixed/biracial ship because he’s black and she’s asian....... except that it’s not the right ship for people who decided that finn has to be either with rey or poe (and guess what rey is white and poe is... schroedinger’s poc because oscar isaac in europe wouldn’t pass for *poc*), which to me has stank of lowkey racism since tlj came out because sorry but if ‘finn deserves better than rose’ or ‘finn should be with rey because if he doesn’t get rey then it’s unfair’ and the various other bullshit I read on the topic basically says that the white woman is *worthier* than the asian woman or that rose is a downgrade from rey which is fucking bullshit, rose isn’t even a bad character all the contrary. and that’s for the het side of it, but like then it’s not as good as stormpilot because it’s a straight ship (NOOOO THEY MADE FINN STRAIGHT/THEY’RE NOT MAKING THEM GAY THIS IS SUCH BULLSHIT = stuff I legit saw on the tag) and ngl I’m 100% sure that the fact that daisy is Standard Attractive and kelly marie t/ran is lovely but doesn't conform to the usual beauty standard western-viewers apply on asian women did play a role in there, but: what did I say before? the slash ship is automatically better than the het ship never mind that they’re both biracial and rose is actually a rep (asian girls who don’t adhere to stereotypical body shapes - and like, the rep for all body types and shapes should be valid for all women, not just white) that isn’t exactly popular especially in mainstream cinema, so people should be happy.... but since rose is Not A Dude and Not Rey and Not The Right Kind Of Representation For That Crowd, automatically rose is a shit character and deserves to be viciously hated on. and this is a thing done by people who most likely then turn on the other side and talk shit about horrible straight women who hate the only female character for getting in the way of their slash ship without realizing that their rose hate is exactly that. and of course since sto/rmpilot is the two good guys, if you ship that then you also have to hate re/ylo because how can you, a person who ships The Good Ship On The Light Side, support such a problematic enemies to lovers thing? yeah, right, hahaha.

this also tbqh also pairs up with how on tumblr people only recognize mental health issues/abuse victims when the narrative suits them - like, being a bad victim automatically means you lose sympathy and mental health issues are only valid if you aren’t ***privileged*** otherwise why would you have them, which shows transparently in how a lot of people absolutely deny that ky/lo ren is a) an abuse victim, b) obviously mentally ill however it is that he deals with it, but no, he has to be The Most Horrible In Existence Because Otherwise We Should Have Empathy For A Bad Guy Who Also Might Get Redeemed And Redemption Is Not Happening Ever Because Bad People Don’t Deserve it.

like, all of the issues sw sequel trilogy has when it comes to the fandom are direct consequences of the nonsensical social justice calvinism climate on tumblr dot com that no one took care to put a stop to since 2013 and of its ridiculous oppression olympics and pitting people against each other and that was my take. cheers.

(ps: I also ship sto/rmpilot like woah and it’s my otp but there’s a reason why I unfollowed most SP blogs I followed and why I don’t go into the tag anymore - I’m not here for the anti-rose racism dressed up as performative wokeness, I’m not here to get lectured about as a white person I fetishize poc gay men if I ship it - yes I read that too - and I’m not here to read a bunch of meta about how re/ylo is a bad ship and blah blah blah, so yeah. I feel you.) (pps: ky/lo ren isn’t even my favorite character and I care relatively but gdi the way the fandom approaches him is honestly mindboggling in that sense, and I don’t mean people who actually dislike him because fair reasons, I mean people who can’t recognize his abuse victim status and the precarious status of his mental health. like, not all abuse victims and mentally ill people are the right victim or come from the right background and you can be cool motive still murder and still recognize that he’s like that because he has issues, not because he was drawn that way. /bye)

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #i said my piece bye #reylo for ts #kylo ren for ts #sw wank for ts #i don't mean ppl shouldn't be uncomfortable with re/ylo or ky/lo btw #but like........... this level of vitriol is ridiculous #and the rose hate is dumb af #bye *shrug*#social justice calvinism #the first person whining about straight people feeling left out as last time this happened #is getting automatically blocked bye #Anonymous #ask post

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