Tumgik
#be a person again. because I don't really know what I feel like now.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A NOT SO MEET CUTE ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅
| percy jackson x popstar au
| au masterlist ☽
summary: the first time you and percy meet isn't the best of circumstances and opinions are formed
warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!
a/n: *in announcer voice* hello and welcome to my first au series, percy and the popstar - help the first time i thought of that my mind went to 'the princess and the popstar' 😭 - im using gracie, masie peters and taylor swift lyrics and faceclaims because im unoriginal as shit :) so if i've used a ts lyric and she's also liked a post lets just collectively ignore that okay!! anyway its unedited but i hope you enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!!
Tumblr media
~~~
percy jackson is famous.
ok thats putting it lightly, percy jackson is extremely famous. in fact he is one of the youngest million-almost-billion-aires in the world. the twenty-two year old has an incredible influence on the world. how he got famous? no one really knows.
maybe its the fact that society drops at the feet of any good-looking rich boy. or maybe he actually did work for it like the rest of the word, we'll never know.
but.
y/n l/n is even more famous.
she's a force to be reckoned with, taking the world by storm with her music and setting the industry alight with her influence. she's got power, beauty and talent and she's not afraid to show it, the recently-turned twenty-one year old has turned the world on its head. case and point; her world tour that she's embarked on. y/n l/n switched things up and instead of starting in the u.s she's finishing here in good ol' new york!
l/n has one final show in florida and two more in boston and then we welcome her home to nyc.
why am i writing an article about y/n l/n and percy jackson i hear you ask? because the young celebrities were both spotted at a high end restaurant in florida, whether they were actually together or not remains to be discovered...
~~~
"would you put your phone down?" lia sighs, setting down an iced coffee in front of you. "you've been staring at that article all morning- its not even a credible source. its probably just some random high schooler blogging."
"i know," you huff and glare at her when she steals your phone from you. "but seriously? percy jackson? come on! i've never even met the guy."
"ooh he is yummy," lia says looking at your phone, at the photo of percy that was pasted at the top of the article. "i mean, ew yucky, he's like the ugliest person ever, i definitely don't want to bang him."
"bang him?" you laugh. "please for the love of god, never say that again."
lia just shrugs and picks up her own coffee taking a sip. "it's trueee."
sighing you lean back into your seat and look around the extravagant living room you're both currently resting in. its a few hours before you have to start getting ready for your final show here in florida and you can feel the anticipation starting to build under your skin.
"omigoshlookatthis," lia shrieks shoving your phone into your face.
"are you seriously stalking his instagram right now?" you raise your eyebrows at her.
"what? as i said he. is. hot."
your eyes flick quickly over his instagram not really seeing the appeal - sure he's good looking in a noticeable, obvious kinda way - but all he seems to post is pictures of him and how rich he is. ugh. be more creative - his insta is like every other boys. shirtless pics and vacations.
then your eyes settle on one thing in particular. "wait! you followed him?"
"shit," lia's eyes widen. "fuck this isn't going to help is it?"
"do something!" you shriek leaping off the couch. "do something! unfollow him! do something!"
"shit shit shit shit," lia cries as you both fly around the room in hysteria - you're both acting like teenage girls honestly - but at this point you don't care.
"fix it! fix it!"
"ok ok! done! i unfollowed him." lia's quiet for a moment and then she panics again. "ahhh fuck he's ONLINE!"
"noooooo! do you think he saw it?" you slap lia in the shoulder. "LIA!" hands shaking as you slump back down. "fuck. oh my god. this is going to be all over the internet."
"it'll be okay," lia comforts sitting down next to you. "it's not like you're famous or anything."
~~~
just now
yn.user followed you
"PERCY FUCKING JACKSON WHAT DID YOU DO?"
those aren't usually percy's favorite words. so when he hears grover yelling this from the hotel bathroom - why the bathroom? don't ask.
"what? what?" percy yells back.
"PERCY MOTHER FUCKING JACKSON WHAT DID YOU DO?" okayyy thats is definitely not good if luke was yelling at him too.
"WHAT?" percy yells back.
"PERCY-"
"I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU SAY WHAT DID YOU DO ONE MORE TIME-"
luke and grover both stalk into the living room with chris and clarisse hot on their heels all supporting bewildered looks on their faces.
"do you know y/n l/n?" grover asks narrowing his eyes.
"the singer right?" percy asks confused still.
"check your insta right now," clarisse jumps in.
percy still confused as ever pulls out his phone eyebrows nearly springing off his face when he sees the notification on insta.
"wait what?"
"y/n l/n followed you for like two minutes and then unfollowed you again. its all over twitter, instagram, everything - especially after that dumb article went around," luke explains.
"it doesn't matter," percy sighs chucking his phone back onto the couch beside him.
"uh yes it does!" grover practically yells. "do you know where we're all going tonight? to her concert! this is going to feed every horny teenage girls dream." grover shoots percy an exasperated look. "my god, the rumours and theories that are gonna come out after this is insane."
"who cares what people think about us? it isn't true. besides y/n is probably one of those girls."
"those girls?" clarisse asks her eye brows raised.
"y'know, pretentious little daddy's girls who clearly have everything handed to them on a silver platter? those girls."
"whatever you say dumbass," chris chuckles.
"we're going to that concert tonight, percy," grover says turning on him. "shit is going to hit the fan because of it, but we're going. because i paid a fortune for those tickets and clarisse and i really wanna see y/n."
"whatever you say buddy, whatever you say."
☾. ⋅
yn.user
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oliviarodrigo, sabrinacarpenter, lia.mandel and 342, 789 others
yn.user florida!!! is one hell of a drug! thank you so much for the love and support you've shown me these past few night florida!!! you've been an amazing audience and i can't wait to come back here 🤍🩵
view all comments
user1 omg omg best night of my lifeee
user2 is that a possible song lyric i see there???
user3 omfg it could be. the three !!! at the end of both floridas??
user4 everybody wake up y/n has posted!
user7 did anyone else see her follow percy jackson and then unfollow him??? no just me?
user6 holy shit yess i saw that
user5 i smell a new ship brewing
user8 WAIT didn't he go to last night's show??
user10 why isn't he waiting for the new york concerts? he lives there right? why go allll the way to florida?
user9 mother is mothering
☾. ⋅
"i told you this would happen!" you huff to lia when she walks into your bedroom a few mornings later. "my entire comment section has been filled with people questioning about percy! i've never even met the guy!"
lia who had been assigned the role - self-assigned - the role to get you out of bed just rolls her eyes and drags the covers off you. "i know as you keep saying. but there is nothing we can do about it- short from announcing that it was a mistake. no one will even believe that anyway, so just let it go."
reluctantly you leave the comfort of your bed and slip into the clothes lia had picked out, trailing after her like a lost puppy. this usually happens between concerts, you return home and rest in your bed (with lia more often than not) not leaving it unless you need to, then lia comes parading in and announces that you're going out and since you have little fight left in you - you always agree.
ignoring the countless paparazzi as you make your way into the cafe you listen to lia as she blabs on about how she's never going to forgive you for not telling her you were adding a new song to your setlist without telling her.
you're so wrapped up in your own head you don't even see the person in front of you until you're slamming into them. and they've spilt coffee down your front.
"ah shit."
"fuck sorry."
you look up and its none other than the percy jackson. well hey! you've officially met him now!
"you good?" percy asks glasses and a cap cover his face but you still recognise him - what? lia's obsessed. and you were subjected to listen about her love for him - and the tone of his voice already pissed off and bored. it's like he was concerned until the second he recognised you. rude.
he doesn't even spare you a second glance before he's flipping you off.
"excuse me?" you say pulling his hand down. "did you just flip me off?"
percy's face pulls into a smirk and you just look up at him in disgust, brush past him and say "whatever asshole." at the same time he says. "later bitch."
fucker you're both thinking.
☾. ⋅
Tumblr media
☾. ⋅
Tumblr media
TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you] @lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle, @lara20aral [if you want to be added just let me know!]
127 notes · View notes
polly-pocket13 · 2 days
Text
Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are
bakugou katsuki x fem!chubby!reader 
tw: weight, self-doubt, self-hate, eating disorder, cursing, acne, bad english and bad grammar
a/n: just a friendly reminder that you are enough and beautiful just the way you are.
You are standing in front of your mirror and looking at yourself. 
You sighed. 
Your skin is getting worse again.
You gained weight.
Your tights are too thick.
Your belly is too chubby.
Your arms to giggly.
Slowly, your eyes started to tear up.
Why couldn't you be like the other pretty girls?
Those girls with the flat stomachs and clear skin. 
Those girls with beautiful tights and slim arms. 
Those girls who always look and act like a real lady.
Those girls who always seem perfect.
The next day, you started eating less and exercising more.
You began to isolate yourself from others and feel more and more ashamed about yourself.
Like right now, you were in your room again and stood before your mirror and looked at your imperfect body.
“Y/N? Is everything okay?” you suddenly heard Bakugous voice behind you.
You didn't even notice that he knocked or entered your room.
“Bakugou, what are you doing here? Of course, everything is alright.” you told him and forced yourself to smile.
“Y/N, stop fucking lying to me. I can see that something is wrong, and I can see how, you force yourself to smile. I have known you long enough, to recognize a real smile.” he grumbled.
“I don't know what you mean.” you said to him.
“Don't play dumb, Y/N. Please tell me what is wrong.” he spoke to you.
“I am fine.” you lied again. 
You weren't fine at all. 
“Fine? You look to me like the absolute opposite of fine.” he said to you angrily.
You were overwhelmed with emotions.
You slowly started to speak, “Can't you see? I am the problem. How I look. How I act. Everything about me is just imperfect.”
You started to cry again.
“Who the hell told you such a bullshit. Tell me so I can break his nose.” he told you aggressive.
You replied quietly, “Kacchan, just forget it.”
“You don't want me to know? Well, then I will find out myself. It can't be that fucking hard to find an asshole without eyes.” he slightly shouted and wanted to leave your room.
“It was me, okay! I tell my self everyday I am not enough! So if you want to break someone's nose, feel free to break mine.” you said to him. 
He immediately turned himself to you. A second later, you could feel his arms wrapped around you.
Now, you started to cry even more.
He pulled you closer to him.
He whispered in your ear, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life.” 
“You only say it because we are friends and I am crying. You don't mean it.” you mumbled.
“Tsk, stupid gorgeous Woman. Why don't you believe me? I would not fall in love with you if you were not the most perfect human being in the world,”
he started tell you.
“I wished you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you would see that you are perfect from the bottom to the top. 
You would see how your eyes sparkle, when you talk about something you love. How you smile makes everyone else smile too.  How you just make everyone else to a better person, especially me. You would see how all stare at you if you dress up in your pretty dresses.  Damn it, Y/N yo drive me crazy every day. Your curves, your beautiful thighs, your soft belly. Just fucking everything.” he ends his “speech”.
You were shocked. You just stared at him for a moment.
“You like me? Like, really like me.” you asked him. 
“Typical Y/N. I told you lots of other important things and you just remembered one. Yes, I like you. Like, really like you.” he answered you. 
“I think I like you too, but I can't see myself through your eyes. I am just imperfect for me.” you told him.
“Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are. Okay?” he asked you. 
“Okay.” you answered. 
Since that day, he has been proving to you every day how beautiful you are to him. 
And you slowly start to believe him and love yourself as you should because you are truly beautiful just the way you are. 
90 notes · View notes
harmonicakai · 3 days
Text
I Bet on Losing Dogs
Tumblr media
Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader
Summary: Your insecurities get the best of you and you abandon your relationship with Beomgyu in the worst way possible.
Tropes: friends with benefits, angst, college AU, band AU
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), emotional unavailability, slut shaming, no happy ending :-(
A/N: This is SAD because I am currently sad and also I didn’t bother to edit it. Apologies in advance to the Beomgyu biased readers bc I know this is not what anybody asked for </3
“You disappeared Like a faint ghost I bury it in the air What am I to you?” —Ghosting, TXT
You’re a horrible person.
Really, you should’ve broken things off with Beomgyu before they even began. It’s never a good idea to be friends with benefits with somebody you actually like. 
You do your best to distract yourself from confessing your love to him by sleeping with other guys. What started bright and electric between the two of you has fizzled with each encounter, his touch now feeling dull and hollow on your skin.
So, when you wake up next to him after a movie night, your stomach drops when you see the marks he’s left on your neck. Everybody will know what you get up to, if they haven’t already been gossiping about it behind your back.
There’s a numbness to the way you slip out of his apartment without so much as a goodbye. If you had woken him up, he would’ve noticed the sad look on your face and canceled all of his plans to spend the day making you feel better.
You don’t deserve his friendship, let alone his love, although he's only confessed the latter when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear him. Or, sometimes Huening Kai will let it slip how much Beomgyu talks about you when they’re away.
The walk home is brutal. You’re even wearing the jacket he’s refused to let you give back to him, knowing that if you had left it behind, he’d surely know something was wrong.
When he notices you’re gone, he shoots you a text about Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. Beomgyu has never cared for linguistics, but he knows you’re a real nerd about this kind of stuff. You decide not to reply.
Things would be much easier if you could just disappear out of his life, but the two of you have become so intertwined that it’s impossible. All of your friends are his friends.
Before him, you were just some quiet girl who shrunk away in the back of the classroom. After getting paired up and reading the poetry you managed to dream up, Beomgyu knew he had to get to know you more.
For most guys, the way he acts with you would come off as desperate. But he’s so earnest in his admiration for you and your talent that there’s simply no way he could possibly be faking it.
The first time you had gotten together was an honest mistake. You had been dumped, again, and he was there for you. It seems like he always is every time another man decides you aren’t worth his time.
It’s not that you don't love him. You do, as much as you’re able to. But you know that if you actually took things to the next level and they didn’t work out, it would break you entirely.
Still, is ghosting him without any sort of reason or explanation any better?
With finals in full swing, you know you’ve got the perfect excuse to be distant for a while. It’s the summertime that you’re worried about. Beomgyu has made sure to include you in every plan of his that he thinks you’d like, sometimes even arranging entire days around you in between his band’s schedules.
Really, the easiest way out is to start dating someone else. It always makes Beomgyu shrink further away from you to know that you will consistently pick someone else over him, although he’s secretly satisfied when things inevitably go sour. He hates knowing that the only thing that drives you into his arms is being rejected by somebody else, but he wants you too much to care.
The two of you talk about everything except how you feel about him, and he knows that he isn’t entitled to any of your emotions. You’ve made it clear from the start that you’re never going to be able to reciprocate in the way that he’d like for you to.
You weren’t always like this. At the start of college, you came in with the idea that you’d fall in love and have your happily ever after. But years of being used for your body and consequently dumped without reason has ripped your heart off your sleeve.
The way Beomgyu worships the ground you walk on makes no sense. You hate yourself. Maybe he just wants something to fix, and once you finally open up to him, he’ll leave you just like everybody else.
The thought makes no sense knowing him, but it’s the driving force in never confessing how you actually feel. So, you offer up yourself physically in the hopes that it’s enough, but it always leaves you feeling empty inside afterward. No amount of kisses or compliments will probably ever change that.
Among his bandmates, you’re closest to Yeonjun. He’s the only one who knows that you love Beomgyu just as much, maybe even more, than he loves you. 
It was revealed through a drunken confession at a frat party the weekend Beomgyu went home for his mom’s birthday, where you immediately got embarrassed and proceeded to go home with the first guy who gave you any sort of attention.
Meaningless sex is really the only way you can get off these days, but the act always leaves you feeling worse than feeling nothing at all with Beomgyu. But if you’re never going to be good enough, pure enough, to truly deserve him, then what’s the harm in another hook up?
You know that every time he finds out you've been with somebody else, you’re breaking his heart. It’s just that there’s so much love from him to go around that it never actually makes a difference in how he treats you. He has the biggest heart you’ve ever seen and you don’t even have the decency to not trample all over it.
You wonder if everybody else also agrees that you’re not good enough for him. They’re so nice whenever you’re around, but you’ve seen men turn into monsters behind your back. For your sake, you try not to think about anybody else's opinion besides Beomgyu’s, but even those thoughts weigh heavy on your shoulders.
After a few days of not returning his texts, he finally musters up the courage to call you. Before you can pick up, your phone sends him to voicemail, and you know that’ll be enough of a sign for him to leave you alone.
It isn’t until you run into him dropping off your poetry final in the writing department’s office that he truly sees what’s become of you.
You haven’t slept properly in days, and you barely eat. Your eyes are constantly puffy from crying all the time, and today is no different. Seeing you like this devastates him.
“Y/N,” he says, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you from running away. His demand for an explanation on where you’ve been and why is stuck inside his throat, and instead, only sobs come out of his mouth.
Beomgyu never cries, and watching as he tries to hide the tears running down his face reminds you that he must be hurting just as much as you are. You want so badly to hold him and apologize, but all you do is stare.
Eventually, he manages to collect himself as much as he can, taking in the irreparable damage you’ve caused one last time.
“Here,” he says, digging in his backpack and handing you a stapled stack of papers. It’s his final project. “I’ll go print another. I want you to read these. Please, promise me you’ll read them.”
You accept the papers, your eyes skimming over the lines of poetry on the first page. It's about you. You flip through the rest of the stack. They're all about you.
It takes everything in you not to start crying too, although you’re so exhausted that you don’t think anything would even come out at this point.
“I promise,” you assure him, although neither of you know if you’re telling the truth.
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie
P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3
88 notes · View notes
ofallthingsnasty · 3 days
Text
tw: yandere, kidnapping/basement spousery, depression, mentions of noncon, gn reader characters: Crocodile, Sanji, Doflamingo, Law word count: 1.3k
Tumblr media
One thing I learned recently is that I'm definitely a social creature and would get horribly, horribly depressed as someone's basement wife, even a well entertained one. All the books, the crafts, the soft music in the world couldn't prevent me from sobbing into my pillows, couldn't get me to crawl out of bed and to paint a smile on my face. Oh, but how would your captor react? For some, it's definitely a necessary evil - Crocodile comes to mind here. Annoyed by your lethargy, by your random tears and your meek, taciturn responses, he finds himself frustrated at times. This state of mind really isn’t ideal - he wanted you docile, sure, but not lifeless. Yet it's also awfully convenient when you just let him push you around, let him caress and touch you - and not out of fear of him, simply because you don't care to struggle. He discovers that he can forgive a lot when you're especially shaken and cling to him, bury your head in his chest because he's the only human you'll ever know again and the world is so bleak around you and you just need him right now. Of course, it would be nicer if you didn't do it because he's the only warm-blooded creature that you interact with, but he'll take what he can get. (And with time, it weirdly grows on him: him turning into the center of your life, the way your eyes seem to light up the tiniest bit when he comes home to you, something he thought mildly annoying at first turning out to be awfully convenient.)
Tumblr media
To others, it's devastating. Sanji lives for your smiles, your warmth, the way your eyes crinkle and you jut your head forward when you fully, genuinely laugh - total apathy is worse than antagonism to him. If you were to scream, shout, put your fingers around his neck and squeeze with the desperation of a cornered prey animal, he'd at least get a reaction, some signs of life out of you. But you don't even do that. You just sit and try to suppress tears while he holds your hand. Sometimes he just cries with you, letting himself fall into the same hole you're being pulled into. It makes him regret taking you so utterly, bitterly, makes him feel all those memories from when he was a child bubble up in his stomach until they force themselves out and he has to vomit to be rid of them. He’s just like his father, he thinks, and it makes him sick. He’s rotten down to the very core, cursed from birth and now he has gone and soiled you, too - he’ll end up sobbing into the crook of your neck more than once, full of genuine remorse. And all you’ll be able to do is absentmindedly pat his hair, thoughts spilling like an knocked over ink well. No, you slipping into a deeply depressive state is only going to worsen the hatred he has for himself, is going to poison him slowly and steadily until he’ll be in agony. Maybe it’s his just punishment.
Then there are the ones like Doflamingo who simply don’t care. You don’t crawl out of bed until noon? You just stare into space or bury yourself in books when you finally do? You’re just lifeless by his side, just blink, shrug your shoulders when spoken to, just exist? Whatever, he has always treated you like a doll from the start. He can even weather the elusive bouts of sobbing and crying (even if he hates it when they happen), because most of the time you’re just his poseable thing and he is nothing if not generous to allow you a tantrum here and there. He doesn't feel bad about you being a more of a hollowed out shell of a person than a fully-fledged human with a rich inner life and doesn't care that most of it is his fault - his fault that you fester and rot beneath the surface, his fault that all the opulent, vibrant clothing and the scorching hot days by the pool still leave you frosty and weirdly bloodless, like a cold-blooded creature in winter. Food is ash in your mouth and only sours your stomach but you still eat when he tells you to, touches feel foreign and loveless but you still let him fuck you if he so wishes. Why should he care what circles around in your head when he gets to do anything he wants to you? That you feel like life is no luster, only desperation? The truly bothersome parts are taken care of by his myriad of servants and the family. Messes left behind get cleaned up, baths are forced on you regularly, as are grooming sessions. If you don’t get dressed on your own either someone else will see to it or he will - and he’ll have his payment for his time, trust me. The solemn mood, the non-existent smiles… he doesn't care for that. You’re not here for your entertainment, you’re here for his. And you just accepting your fate and letting him do whatever it is he wants… That’s just perfect, isn’t it?
Of course, let’s not forget about the ones who secretly love it. Law is a prime example, especially with his medical background. He isn’t surprised that your mood sways - he expected as much when he restricted your every move, declared the outside world to be too unhealthy for you. Of course you’d slip into a depressive episode. And it’s not a flaw, it’s intentional. Because now - now, when you can’t peel yourself out of bed, when everything feels too much, when you can’t feed or move or dress or take care of yourself- he gets to swoop in. He gets to do it for you, gets to tell you that he’s here and that he’ll always catch you when you fall. That his assessment of your condition was accurate - that you always needed him, right from the start. Dependency is worth more than all the love in the world to him. It simply doesn’t matter if you’d rather slit his throat than to behave for him out of your own volition - as long as you can’t leave. Even if he genuinely loves you, he’s not deluded enough to cling to daydreams of him and you living a quiet, happy life full of reciprocated affection, that ship has long sailed - sailed ever since his childhood got irrevocably destroyed. No. Love is nice and good and makes him wash you gladly, makes him care for you with delicate hands and with a patient brow - but your sickness makes you stay, renders you unable to leave him. It’s the only currency he can trade in when it comes to you. He’s your savior and tormentor rolled into one person; but above all he is the only one who cares and will forever care. You could rot yourself into a pathetic, sweat-soaked, disgusting corner, could turn into nothing but a husk and he’d always, always nurse you out of the ditch he’s found you in, just at the right time.  What he doesn’t tell you is that he could help you. At least artificially. Boost your moods with SSRIs until you bounce off the walls with nervousness and sweat thrice as much; make you giddy and shaky until you get used to the dose. Until the world seems worth living in once more, until at least some color returns to your drab eyes. He could get you the medication, even try some speech therapy, could help you like a good boyfriend should. But why? It makes no sense. Why help you only to get some fire back, maybe even for you to slip through his fingers? It’s easier to sit in twosome silence with tired eyes watching him, eyes that one day might be grateful for all the work he has put into them. Until then, it’s of utmost importance that they stay right where they are: in a cramped, dirty corner of a bed, dull and lifeless.
107 notes · View notes
raapija · 23 hours
Note
hi! as a prompt for pookie au (which i love), how do you think carlos would react to finding out his dad is dating LANCE of all people? would he be immediately freaking out or would he hold it in and rant to charles about it later?
Thank you for the prompt. <3
(Carlos and Charles hadn't yet met, as this is set in 2018.)
summary: Lance talks with Carlos for the first time after Lance and Fernando told him they were dating. Also some strollonso fluff to balance it out.
warnings: some swearing, Carlos being extremely mean to Lance
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lance fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He could feel his ears burning as Carlos stared at him from the other side of the patio table. The cool evening air made his skin tingle.
"Why?" he heard Carlos ask after what had felt like 15 minutes of silence. Lance had sat down with him after having dinner with Fernando. It was the first time they told Carlos that they were together. Lando or Oscar probably would've blurted it out at some point, but it was definitely easier to tell him like this.
"What?" Lance asked for him to clarify what exactly he meant by 'why?.' He couldn't really look at Carlos, because he knew he was staring daggers back at him. They had been racing together for years, but had never really became friends or spent time together. Carlos was also a couple years older than him and had always been kind of intimidating to Lance. Something about those dark brown eyes.
"Why my dad? Of all people, why him?" Carlos continued his questioning. Now Lance looked at him and his heart skipped a few beats as he saw the expression on Carlos' face. Contempt.
"I love him."
Carlos scoffed and Lance felt something inside him shift. He straightened in his seat and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to give in.
"Listen," he started. "I really do like him. I know it's fucking weird that he's older and you're older than me, but so what? We like each other. It's not just some fling. He's done a lot for me and I for him. I love him."
Carlos studied him from across the table. The longer he didn't say anything, the faster Lance's heart beat. Adrenaline rushing in his veins as if he was on a race track, trying to overtake him at a high-speed corner. In the end, it was Carlos who averted his eyes to look away.
"If you break his heart, I'll kill you." Carlos said and Lance breathed out. His face was serious. "I've seen what it's like for him, and I don't want to see that again, ever. So don't you dare."
"I won't hurt him. I promise." Lance said and Carlos' eyes moved back to focus on him.
"You promise?" he chuckled, now sounding condescending. "That's what the last guy said as well. And then he left him."
Lance's heart was about to burst out of his chest. Maybe he couldn't overtake in the corner and instead would crash into the wall.
"My dad gave everything to me. He gave me a chance when no one else would. He doesn't deserve you. He's got all he needs in me and my brothers. He loves us. Not you. " Carlos said, his words cutting right through Lance like little knives. It made his throat turn dry. "You understand?"
"I do." Lance got out. Carlos' chair dragged painfully on the tile flooring of the patio when he stood up to leave. As he walked past Lance, he gave him a strong pat on the shoulder and made Lance flinch. Crashed, in the wall. Game over.
"I'll be watching you." Carlos said and then stepped back into the house, leaving him alone. Lance breathed out and a flood of emotions ran through him as he relaxed. He was 20. Just barely got into F1 and immediately started dating a 37 year-old with three grown kids. This really did sound like some sort of a breakdown if you looked at it from the outside. Still, he was glad the only person at his throat was Carlos and not the media. Only a few people knew, and that was for the best. He had enough on his plate as a 'pay-driver'.
¬
Later that night, Lance was laying in bed, deep under the covers and waiting for Fernando to join him. He had been in this bed countless times before, but the idea of Carlos lurking somewhere in the same house made him uneasy.
He could finally hear Fernando's familiar footsteps climbing up the staircase to the second floor where the bedroom was. As soon as he stepped into the room, Lance's mind stopped racing.
"You okay?" the Spaniard asked as he sat down on the other side of the bed from Lance. He must've sensed Lance's anxiety all the way from downstairs.
"Yeah. Talked to Carlos." Lance said and turned onto his side so he could see Fernando better. The older man laid his watch and jewelry from his wrists on the bedside table and the slid under the covers. They were both facing each other and Lance scooted a little closed so Fernando could wrap an arm around him.
"How it go? Not too scary, I hope." Fernando's voice was soothing and Lance settled against his chest, warm skin touching his forehead. He felt Fernando press little kisses into his hair on the top of his head.
"He only threatened to kill me, so not that bad." Lance said and Fernando laughed. Him laughing made it feel a bit better, like he wasn't actually going to get beat up if he made one mistake.
"That's my Carlito." Fernando hummed and squeezed Lance a little closer to him, slowly running his hand up and down his back. "Don't worry about him. He likes to pretend he's tougher than he is."
"He told me someone broke your heart before so he didn't want me to repeat that." Lance said and Fernando's hand stopped moving.
Lance heard a quiet 'oh...' and wriggled back a bit to look at him. Fernando's eyes were sad. Lance didn't like that.
"I'm sorry."
"No, no." Fernando hurried to stop him from apologizing. He moved his hand up and set it on Lance's cheek. "That's nothing. History. I got you now, so it's okay."
"Yeah?" Lance asked and Fernando gently tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear. The Spaniard smiled at him, his eyes back to normal and happy. The things Carlos had said still irked at the back of Lance's brain, but he didn't press on it.
"You fix me." Fernando said and moved in to kiss Lance on the forehead. He then pulled him close again and held his arm tight around him. "I talk with Carlito tomorrow. Tell him to be nice to you."
Lance hummed and could already feel himself falling asleep. It felt so safe with Fernando. Strong arms holding onto him and his warmth transferring into him. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.
62 notes · View notes
hypnotic-kink · 21 hours
Note
Tan lines?:)
100% RANT
Please don't take this personal @builtincalifornia, I'm not directing these comments towards you. i get the ask, I went on vacation and I have posted pics of my tan before & bikini pics. I did take some tan line pics and a few full body bikini pics on vacation, I was going to post them, but one super disrespectful guy ruined that request, so no, no tan lines will be posted ... I feel mentally abused after that guy. I also know I post some provocative pics and it can attract the mega pervs (who I end up blocking), I get it, I accept that will happen occasionally, and I can handle most comments. I've gotten good at sidestepping them but now I need to be clear, my pictures give NO ONE the right to message me sexually, make demands, say nasty things and then get pissed when I say no and proceed to call me every name in the book. He's blocked and I will block anyone that displays childish behavior like that in DM or in my comments. If you agree with Him, block me and good riddance. If you think my pics are hot or sexy ...hey then I accomplished what I set out to do! I enjoy getting the aesthetics right on my pics, and that's awesome and I'm flattered when people think I took a great pic. Glad you like them! I also enjoy interacting on comments too, again, nothing wrong with that, that still isn't an open invitation to sexual comments or give anyone the right to have expectations towards me and I'll say most of you guys have been PRETTY AWESOME and I've cleaned out the really degrading ppl that used to make all the crude remarks. My blog IS a NSFW site after all, and I AM allowed to post whatever my little heart desires and let my exhibitionist side out in a safe environment if I chose to, there is NOTHING wrong with that. Don't get it twisted. I'm not here for a hook up, and I'm certainly not here to get you off. No one has the right to demand pictures of me. After 1 1/2 yrs. on this blog, the people I am friends with and do talk to in DM, you're there for a reason .... thank you for knowing my boundaries and respecting them and thank you for your friendship. Yes, women are allowed to have male friends on here, that doesn't mean we are sexting or have a sexual relationship with all of them. I do appreciate and value you. You're the best :)
To the people that want to judge me based off my posting sexy personal pictures. KISS MY ASS, you don't know me. You haven't even tried to know the woman behind the pictures & I don't have to agree with any Dom on his opinion. I'm sure there are many women who post pics that feel the same way as I do. Am I a sexual person? Absolutely, but I'm also not all about sex, so stop with the assumptions. I'm also a one-on-one relationship kind of women who isn't poly and isn't into multiple guys. So many like to lump all us women who post pics together like we're all sexting everyone in this place, but for me personally, you're wrong. I'm sure there are some men in here that the same assumptions are made too. I am not sexting any man in here and I say that publicly because I know it's the truth. I'm not a whore, a slut, or easy because I post pictures of myself. I'm pretty damn selective and there are many in here that know that and have said perhaps my expectations are even too high. AGAIN, No one owns me in here, I'm not a punching bag for you to hurl derogatory words at if you don't get your way and no one has the right to demand anything of me, nor send dick pics, and I don't even have to respond to DMs if I choose not to. I'm always nice and polite to people who message, until it's time not to be. Me being polite is also not an invitation to say sexual comments. If I wanted to go down that path I would, and you would know it. I'm not looking. Also, when men post their own pics, I support them 100%, that does not mean I want to get with them, or I'm perving on them. It takes guts to put yourself out there, for men and women. Men and women support me so why wouldn't I support them?! You guys all rock too! While I'm on a rant, do not, I repeat do NOT ask for more pictures of me if you do message me. READ PROFILES DAMMIT mines pretty clear.
76 notes · View notes
lillybearrie · 1 day
Text
Hello I would like to remind everyone that the first (technically second if you wanna get really technical but who cares) thing we heard from fable was
"Release Me,
You are free of Enderian, now focus on purpose"
Directed at Icarus
"Now focus on your purpose"????? WHAT HAPPENED TO "HI" "HELLO" "HOW ARE YOU MY SON"
BECAUSE NEWSFLASH SIR THAT'S NOT HOW YOU TALK TO YOUR FUCKING CHILD
THEY AREN'T A FUCKING ROBOT TO TAKE AND CARRY OUT YOUR ORDERS THAT'S YOUR GODDAMN KID!
PEOPLE TREATED SEVEN WITH MORE FAMIARITY AND RESPECT
no offense to seven great guy rip man BUT STILL
Anyway on to actual analysis
After reading this note, several deductions can be made about our antagonist's character right off the bat, which in season 3 we see to be accurate assumptions
First of all the sending of the note "release me" constantly at the beginning of every reset presumably for the past several ones gives us a base line of a few things A) whoever wrote it is trapped B) they really want out C) whomever was to recive the note presumably can help with this D) this person is either very angry and resorting to formal wording as a form of passive aggression or they are simply a very formal person Had this not been the case they would have written "let me out" or "get me out" or even "help me"
Now for the post-corruption portion
"You are free of Enderian"
1) this person knows Enderian 2) This person knows at least of Icarus 3) They intentionally have been sending these to Icarus 4) despite being trapped they have some way to know what is going on 5) their particular view of Enderian is not favorable it's not overtly antagonistic however this is the one part of the not that can be read as at least partially sympathetic to Icarus
Finally "Now focus on your purpose"
1) they don't see Icarus as anything but a means to an end 2) tone wise it feels like both the chastisement of a child and an order to an unthinking being 3) "your purpose" seemingly refers to the prior statement of "release me" either implying that the writer believes Icarus is only here to get them out of wherever they are or that Icarus's sole purpose in life is to aid and assist them and 4) the use of "now" after the previous statement implies they view the corruption arc as simply something that was inhibiting the progression of them being let out
First off once again SIR THAT IS YOUR CHILD YOU MOTHERFUCKER-
In conclusion deductions that can be made from this note with the knowledge that i now hold are as follows: Fable wanted out of purgatory, they issued Icarus with the fulfillment of this task and saw the corruption arc as merely a speed bump on the road of getting his ass outta there. Fable is a pretentious douchebag. Like everyone else in his life Fable is constantly using his own son as a means to achieving his end goal.
Other notes:
Had Fable's motivations not been his underlying obsession with keeping what he believes is "his" even when it disrupts and disregards the rules of the universe and the sanctity of life he likely wouldn't have given 2 shits about Icarus.
If we view Fable's interactions with others through the lense of him thinking of those of the overworld as "his" his people his creations his world then it starts to become clearer that he only sees individuals as tools and for their potential usefulness to him. And if we want to take this view even further we could even say that he at least on some level viewed Alerion giving a place for his deceased mortals to restate something akin to how a child views their sibling stealing a toy from their room, which then implies that the war of the gods is just a big temper tantrum where Fable hurt his brother then his other siblings stepped in and went "hey woah man not cool you can hit Al dude he is literally just playing the game" to which Fable's response was to hurt them as well and now he's just got out of timeout and basically started blaming his parents for everything wrong in his life which is so silly goofy of him until you remember that these were people he was upset about his brother "stealing" from him and it becomes less silly goofy.
"But Lilly!" I hear you say because you've totally read this far, mhm definitely "If he doesn't actually care about the dead people, then why does he act nice? Why is his charisma stat so high?" Well to that I say is it easier to keep someone in one spot when you make them believe this is where they wanna be or when they know the whole truth?
57 notes · View notes
bestworstcase · 2 days
Note
So, regarding your Tai post,
https://www.tumblr.com/bestworstcase/748954216598470656/the-perennial-tai-discourse-is-really-interesting?source=share
I had some thoughts: I technically cover it in a separate post
https://www.tumblr.com/tumblingxelian/749060919422861312/really-solid-addition-here-much-like-with-qrows
But I'm unsure if the links will work so here is a slightly edited & expanded version:
Now, the idea that Ruby & Yang had very different childhoods is not an idea I strictly disagree with. But, I also think it is a bit inaccurate to treat it as outlined in your post.
What I mean is that while Yang is definitely more overt in the fact she feels Tai and the other adults failed them and defaults to centering family moments on Ruby. (For instance she frames the Zwei package as something to cheer Ruby up, its not for her & Ruby's the one really excited, Yang's just kind of there about it)
Despite that, Ruby herself doesn't have a simple relationship with Tai, or in fact she just might but that's not a good thing.
See, Ruby does not think about Tai very often, he's largely an afterthought in her letters for one. But more to the point he is not someone Ruby goes to for advice or guidance or even comfort.
Post Beacon, she mostly gets an update from him and is not bothered to see him go. She is OK being a bit more vulnerable around Qrow.
But the person she actually seeks out and seems utterly shocked at not receiving comfort from is Yang. It was also Yang who she questions for what to do next and Yang whom she confided her plans in before leaving.
Again she is shocked when Yang cannot supply these things to her.
Tai is her dad, but its a superficial relationship, he's nice, he can be fun, she does love him. She does not however, seem to perceive him as a reliable or responsible adult from whom she seeks protection or guidance.
The person she always defaulted to for that was Yang until she could no longer fill the role post V3 which likely fed into her issues with showing vulnerability in V9.
I tend to think she might have been more open to it in V5 given the breakdown tears & hug, but then Yang demonstrated she was still very much not all right & Ruby had no clue what to do. So she just sort of locked into her head that Yang needed 'her' protection now, not the other way around.
I would also just straight up note that even Ruby said it was Yang who raised her. Like, that wasn't even subtle, she knows who the parent was in that house and it wasn't Tai or Qrow. I don't think she'd say that if their childhoods were 'so' different that Tai was a functional parent to her but not Yang.
She definitely has a less... frosty relationship with the two grown men who she grew up around, Largely because they project the saintly Summer onto her and the Wretched Raven onto Yang.
Again, let's not forget Qrow's entirely willing to accept Yang brutalized a kid for shits and giggles or is "crazy". Or that Tai outright sees a lot of Raven in Yang, despite most of the traits he described not meshing with Yang's demonstrated or self described persona.
But even with that more positive relationship being projected onto and still raised by a sister two years your senior isn't exactly ideal. Both sisters had a shitty childhood, both were deeply neglected and failed and suffered because of that fact.
all true! but the nature of parentification is that the children experience the neglect in very different ways; the elder child is forced into an adult role, parenting the younger child, who is harmed in more invisible ways because they do have a caretaker—their sibling. anecdotally nearly every account of a childhood i’ve read by an adult who was raised as a child by older siblings has either alluded to or outright described 1. a much better childhood than their caretaking sibling(s) got, 2. because their sibling(s) shielded them from the worst neglect or abuse.
with that in mind and taking into consideration things like the different reactions to the package from tai (this will cheer ruby up vs ooh, something from home!) and yang staying behind at beacon when tai takes ruby to visit the memorial stone, and now these clear differences in how the girls feel about the boba shop (yang: unsure, downplaying the surprise, maybe it’s dumb / ruby: boba!!!) which probably reflect their emotional experience of the outings with dad (yang: fun, happy that ruby is so excited, not that special otherwise / ruby: magical)…
well, let’s put it this way:
yang did not have a real caretaker starting from age five, when she became the de facto main parent to her three-year-old sister with at best sporadic breaks when qrow wasn’t too blackout drunk / tai was having a good day.
ruby had a primary caretaker who struggled but was always there (yang) and a dad who had to work a lot but made time to do special things like the boba trips so that he could spend quality time with his family (tai). plus an uncle she sometimes needed to help her sister deal with.
yang being parentified has the effect of insulating ruby from the severity of tai’s neglect; in a functional single-income household where one parent stays home and the other works to support the family and both parents are adults who chose this dynamic and enjoy their respective roles, the working parent is not bad or neglectful simply because they aren’t around during the day to take care of the kids, and they can foster close, loving relationships with their children by making the most of the time they have at home. the childhood ruby had was a dysfunctional imitation of that dynamic.
and then factoring in the summer-vs-raven projection, when tai was around he focused on bonding time with ruby moreso than yang.
the net result is that the harm to ruby is much more invisible (yang by virtue of being a child herself could not provide ruby with healthy parent-child boundaries or the emotional stability children need from their parents to feel secure and develop good emotional regulation; tai’s favoritism of ruby being intertwined with idealizing of summer fucked ruby’s sense of self really badly; in the first few volumes ruby feels hurt and bewildered every time yang acts like her sister instead of her parent).
ruby sees clearly and states in volume nine that yang raised her; i don’t think she would have been able to articulate that so plainly in volume one, and this is something she’s come to realize after leaving home / living independently. in v1 it’s “yang used to read to me when we were little” and i’d bet that’s how ruby would phrase everything yang did—as discrete habits, not the combined pattern of “yang raised me.”
whereas yang like. the first thing she does at beacon is try to step away from ruby: encouraging her to meet new people then ditching her to catch up with friends, not wanting to partner up with her for initiation… much as yang loves her sister and enthusiastically supports her, it’s also pretty obvious that yang saw beacon as an opportunity to focus on herself for once. which says to me that she’d already grasped that their home life was messed up and that she needed to break those patterns once she left.
56 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 13 hours
Note
QUESTION
whats everyone’s comfort style? like after an argument or maybe R has conflict with a class— how’re they soothing their partner?
oooooooooh my gosh this makes me wanna cryyyyy
I think I'm gonna do this if it was an argument???
James:
I think he'd be just as close to tears as his partner
anxious and fidgety as he tries to figure out how to approach this now that tempers have settled
I think a mixture of cuddling and encouragements
tries to get you excited about something else [bribery? but in the good way lol "we'll have fun at Hogsmeade next weekend, yeah? we'll get Butterbeer - you like butterbeer"]
I think he'd be good at communicating and very emotionally intelligent (that's what having healthy and loving parents does to a person - can't relate)
Remus:
broody at first - I think he'd have a tendency to shut down after a fight because he'd feel like an arse for upsetting you
I feel like he might try to back track? like he'd start thinking "was what I was so worked up about really worth upsetting them like this?"
pet names, cuddles, asks if you wanna just go to bed early with him and stay in each others arms the rest of the night - he'd need physical contact with you
lots of apologies - feels like a monster for upsetting you, maybe worried you'll leave :(
Sirius:
I feel like he'd panic at first when he realizes he's upset you - like face drops and all the colour leaves his face as he sees your eyes well with tears
I think this would put him into a momentary state of fight or flight - negative emotions were dangerous growing up
cautious - gentleness, complete 180 from how heated the conversation had been because he's worried; he knows he can go too far and that his words cut deep...he is a Black after all
cuddles, kisses, tries to crack some jokes as he holds you
and then apologies
Regulus:
panics at first just like Sirius above
momentary state of fight or flight like Sirius above & for the same reasons
think he'd start feeling like a failure, like he can't get any aspect of his life right
caution - I think he'd be afraid how you'd react when upset (again, negative emotions = danger to Black's)
lots of eye contact, hand holding, praise, bribery (I'll buy you this, I'll buy you that)
he may not actually buy you that (okay he will, but) he said it mostly to crack a smile out of you
Barty:
panic, "nononono, whoa, hang on, wait, hang on, what's with the tears? what? hang on"
immediately "okay wait stop, no, don't cry. You're right, I'm sorry. You were right. Fuck I'm such a wanker."
gathers you up in his arms and straight up will not let you go for the rest of the day/night - basically barks at anyone who tries to approach the two of you during this time
gets anything you need: thirsty? you stay put, he'll get you water. Hungry? he'll take a quick jaunt to the kitchens (i.e., acts of service)
I think he might cry about it later because he feels guilty.....and the roles will need to be reversed.
Lily:
tbh I see her being stubborn about it - she's rarely wrong and she's not going to start now
except....except you look so hurt and dejected; was that really right? and was it worth being right when you looked like that?
it would feel fundamentally wrong
she'd want to talk it out - have a full blown conversation about what happened, why it happened, how it could have gone differently and how you two will navigate things going further
throughout the entire conversation though she'd be holding your hand and rubbing soothing circles on it and forcing you to make eye contact with her so you know she's being sincere
she might suggest getting ice cream or something after as a treat lol
49 notes · View notes
mcflymemes · 22 hours
Text
NOCTURNAL ANIMALS (2016) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary
please don't say that. i don't want to be like my mother.
do you ever feel like your life has turned into something that you never intended?
that's a deal breaker for me.
we might be perfect for each other if we didn't live in the real world.
why do you always think the worst of me?
you're wrong. you and i are nothing alike.
i see we're settling for less now!
a package arrived for you. i found it in the mailbox this morning.
i'm sorry, but could you help me open this? i just cut my finger. paper cut.
in the end, you left me with the inspiration that i needed to write from the heart.
where were you last night?
by the time i left the office, i was late for my dinner.
it would have taken you fifteen minutes. fifteen minutes, and it would have meant a lot to me.
you didn't come to bed last night.
i didn't want to wake you up.
that doesn't sound like you.
are things a little better?
i'm surprised. i thought we were hiding it pretty well.
[name], i'm worried about you.
seriously, look at me. you scared me the last time that we talked.
i'm fine. i just can't believe i told you all of those things. i feel embarrassed about it.
what right do i have to not be happy? i have everything. i feel ungrateful not to be happy.
i think we just want different things. or maybe i want different things.
we get into things when we're young because we think they mean something.
do we really have to stop tonight? i'd rather just get there.
don't look at them. don't give them any reason.
sit still. they've probably got a gun.
don't get out of the car.
you're not supposed to leave the scene of an accident. it's a crime.
don't come any closer.
i'm a gemini, my favorite color is petal pink, and i like long walks and kittens.
you know what, we should call the police.
you got no fucking right to talk to me like that!
you'll get killed if you don't watch it.
may i use your phone?
could you see them in the dark?
i just wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.
you sound weird. are you okay?
you look beautiful as always.
would you like to have dinner?
you know, you were my first crush.
what a weird thing to say.
i'm sorry. i hope that doesn't offend you.
this is a ridiculous conversation. you're too young to get married.
oh my god, did you just say that? you really just said that? that came out of your mouth?
it's like the whole thing is a blur.
now listen. i've got to be honest with you. right now it's not looking good.
if i write it down, then it will last forever.
you know my name. i told you.
you didn't sleep again, did you?
who the hell are you? get off my property!
you'll take this the wrong way, but i think that you need to stop writing about yourself.
please don't start that again. it makes me feel like you don't believe in me.
you always get so fucking defensive about it.
i really wanted to be this person that you thought i was. i really did, but i'm just not that person.
you're wonderful and romantic, and sweet and sensitive, and all the things i'm not. life for you is kind of a dream.
weak. i'm weak. that's what you want to say. go ahead and say it. you've said it before. weak.
i'll live to regret this. i regret it now.
i got a certain pride in how people talk to me, and there are certain things i don't put up with.
nobody gets away with what you did.
may i get you a drink while you wait?
35 notes · View notes
azuresage · 2 days
Text
It gets talked about a lot but I still can't stop nerding out about Link's characterization in TotK. It's done through his many creative dialogue choices and his expressions of course, but it's also done so subtly through what he *doesn't* say. Notably, he doesn't talk about himself. And this is why nobody recognizes him unless they've already met him. Because he doesn't tell them when they've got the wrong impression of him.
The meme about Link having Tony Hawk syndrome is so real. People will look at him and straight up say, "Wow, you look exactly like Link!" without a hint of irony. Lookout Landing has a detailed picture of his face in their watchtower and the search party still doesn't recognize him. Penn works with Link for a long time and thinks he's unlucky that the Yiga keep "mistaking" him for the Hero (granted, Traysi asked him to deliberately keep quiet, but Penn still didn't put two and two together himself). I think the reason for this, aside from it being really, really funny, is that Link just doesn't talk about himself. He doesn't feel the need to.
Characterization isn't just about what we see a character doing, it's also about how other characters respond to them. Link is so unassuming and humble that he doesn't match people's expectations of what "Link" should be like. The three Gerudo ladies hanging out around Outskirt Stable are one of many perfect examples. Link stands in front of them carrying the Master Sword, but they expect the Hero to be taller than they are, with a giant glowing sword, so they don’t believe it's him. Obviously that's not the reality, but they don't know that. Link doesn't correct them, either. Again, he doesn't feel the need to.
This is also why many NPCs from BotW don't recognize or remember Link. To them, he was just a passerby that did them a good turn once 6+ years ago. Nobody's going to remember a person like that for so long after. They had no way of knowing he was the Hero, unless it came up for story quest reasons. When they hear stories about the Princess's Appointed Knight who woke up from his 100 year nap, defeated the Calamity, and rescued Zelda, they imagine someone larger than life. Then when they see what Link actually is like, they can't put two and two together.
This is true even during the Hyrule Restoration efforts. Link always follows behind Zelda as her shadow, which she notes in her diary, but the people in the stable investigation quests and in Hateno don't recognize him either, even though he went everywhere she did. Link is just that unassuming. He resigns himself to being a shadow, allowing Zelda to take the lead and do as she pleases but always staying nearby to support and protect her. He doesn't need to be recognizable to do his job. And we know from both BotW and now TotK that he's wholly devoted to her. He's content with this. Many people more eloquent than I have spent many paragraphs elaborating on this. I just wanted to focus on what it says about his character.
Link is humble and unassuming, so much so that nobody believes that he's the Hero unless they already know him. He's devoted to Zelda, so much so that he's willing to do anything to chase even a glimpse of her. He doesn't talk about himself or correct people who have the wrong impression of him. He doesn't need to do that to chase his Zelda. He is a person of great humility in spite of his station. I think that's so interesting and neat how the comedy of him being unrecognizable also tells us all this about him. It's also cool how this is only one aspect of him; all the dialogue choices and expressions he makes during cutscenes and actions out in the world show a whole other, lighter side to him that meshes with this. It's all so good. I am in love with it. It always kills me inside when people dismiss his characterization as being nonexistant or flat just because it's not spoonfed to them or when they say Link being unrecognizable is lazy writing instead of a deliberate choice. I am biting and gnawing and gnashing over him and his relationship to Zelda. I love them so much.
43 notes · View notes
Text
The Apothecary Diaries
S1E17 First Watch
Tumblr media
Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.
To start at the beginning:
Episode 1
My character/locations cheat sheet
Suiren - Jinshi's attendant
Lakan - master strategist
Basan - an officer who works in the palace
This episode opens with Jinshi asking Maomao for help with makeup, and Suiren decides that this is a great time to leave these two alone. Maomao believes that to make Jinshi any more beautiful would cause men to go to war.
Maomao: If this man in all his heavenly glory were to put on makeup... Are you trying to topple a nation?
Jinshi: Where'd that come from? On second thought, I would rather you don't tell me.
Is he? Not that he's trying to use his looks to do it, but it's an interesting thought. Is Jinshi interested in toppling a nation? Or perhaps dethroning an emperor? What an interesting thing to ponder. Also, is Jinshi worried that Maomao suspects him capable of insurgency?
Jinshi very much cannot afford to be found talking about toppling nations. I'm sure that the people in power who know who he really is, are already keeping an eye on him to see if he will make a play for the throne. Perhaps it is one of the reasons he was sent to manage the Rear Palace. If he makes a single misstep that could be seen as disloyal to the emperor, it would be enough to depose of Jinshi.
Ah! Jinshi wants some freckles! No, he wants to look like a completely different person. I'm sure he has a reason for wanting this disguise, but to Jinshi who has been the target of so much sexual harassment, being able to look common must feel like having a shield. He and Maomao can probably relate on this. Unlike Maomao, Jinshi can't do this regularly, his beauty is a tool that he is required to use. I also don't know that he would choose to change his appearance regularly. Even if he sees his beauty as a curse, I think he's comfortable enough with his appearance that he doesn't want to regularly alter it. Maomao does offer a more permeant solution, and Jinshi turns it down. His refusal could be because he needs his beauty as a tool, but I would guess that he doesn't want to change himself. All of that said, he's looking forward to this disguise that Maomao is going to prepare.
Maomao sees Jinshi first thing in the morning and is stunned by his beauty. She's annoyed at herself for being so affected by this man.
Jinshi: What's this? Why are you already wearing a scowl? Maomao: It's nothing. I was just noticing how lovely you are yet again. Jinshi: A little early for sarcasm.
Jinshi has tried to use his appearance on Maomao before, and it has failed every time. She's made it clear that she's not interested in him because of how he looks, so to get a comment like this one, he's sure she's teasing him. Which she is but she's also serious. It's interesting that Maomao is letting Jinshi know that she sees the physical appeal of him, when she never has before. And it's happening in an unguarded moment when Jinshi isn't trying to preen or seduce. I wonder why it's happening now. Perhaps it is just something that has been growing.
Maomao does something that disturbs everyone in the room for different reasons. She grabs Jinshi's wrist and sniffs him. Jinshi is blushing, the action a lascivious one to him. Suiren and Gaoshun interpret it the same way, but are shocked to witness it. Maomao explains that his disguise needs to start from his scent.
Jinshi ponders how well Maomao understands the world of the courtesan. He considers Lakan's suggestion to ask Maomao about how to lower a courtesan's value. Will he work up the nerve to ask? Jinshi isn't one to shy away from difficult conversations, however this is a loaded question. Asking it could reflect poorly on Jinshi. We shall see.
And does Maomao know anything about makeup? The gal was an apothecary that worked in a brothel. I'm sure she's an expert.
And she is. Her brilliance mixed with her experience means she's a master of disguise. She uses various methods to completely overhaul Jinshi's appearance, down to the most intimate details such as scent and sound of his voice. During Maomao's work to transform Jinshi, she takes time to admire various parts of Jinshi's body, such as the smoothness of his hair, the clarity of his skin, and the tone of his physique.
Jinshi is enjoying having Maomao's full attention on him and her hands all over his body, and he's going to think about this day every night before he goes to sleep. Maomao will probably also think about this day. It's a rather convenient excuse for both of them to enjoy some intimacy that they won't allow without the pretense. Meanwhile, Suiren can barely handle the multiple indignities that Jinshi has to endure to don this disguise.
Before Maomao commits to altering Jinshi's face, she can't resist putting some lipstick on him. Just to see. A little experiment if you will. One that now lives rent free in the minds of not only Maomao, but Gaoshun and Suiren too. I would give anything to see Jinshi in full glam in this show.
Nothing gets past Maomao and she finds the callouses on Jinshi's palms, surmising that he must train with weapons, which she notes is not a typical eunuch activity. Add that to the mountain of evidence that Jinshi is more than a eunuch official, that Maomao will promptly ignore.
Oh hell yeah! Suiren and Gaoshun are teaming up to send Maomao on a date with Jinshi. He couldn't possibly be seen with his usual companions, that would be too suspicious. Maomao points out the obvious, which is that she is also a well known attendant of Jinshi's. No problem, Maomao can be given a disguise too. And what Gaoshun couldn't? These two could not be more transparent. It's too bad that Maomao can't read this kind of obvious play when it relates to herself.
Maomao is dressed as a pretty young lady from a good family. And she is accompanied by Jinshi who is going out as her attendant. Jinshi loves this role reversal, and Maomao is teaching him how to play his part well. Who they are performing for isn't clear.
Basan is here, hanging back and watching Jinshi live out another one of his fantasies. Will Basan become jealous? One can only hope!
Jinshi is getting progressively more upset that Maomao is drifting in her own thoughts instead of chatting with him. He gets all pouty when Maomao says they have nothing to talk about. His fantasy date isn't going how he imagined it would.
Maomao picks up some meat skewers and after removing the cotton from his mouth Jinshi tucks in with fond memories from "camp." I'm assuming he's talking about time spent with the military. Maomao notes this isn't typical of a eunuch. I wonder what is even left on the list of things about Jinshi that resemble a eunuch.
Suiren and Gaoshun have a discussion about Jinshi and Maomao while they're out. They are pleased with themselves for setting up this outing, but Suiren is referring to Maomao as a toy, as Gaoshun used to. She talks about Jinshi as a boy and how he would fixate on one thing, and how Gaoshun would struggle to find something else to shift his attention. Gaoshun thinks that Jinshi can't afford to be so focused on Maomao. Maybe he's worried about how Maomao makes Jinshi more susceptible to manipulation from people like Lakan. Or maybe he means that with Jinshi's status, that it can't be allowed.
I've come to realize that this show is going to be much, much longer than the single season I'm on. The progress of this romance is like the slowest slow burn. Jinshi and Maomao have been stuck at an impasse for ages. Whenever they do make progress it's in the smallest increment possible that takes more brain power than I have to process and tease out. But I've digressed.
Basan looks like he's starting to enjoy this assignment now that he's picked up some meat skewers, and he can now enjoy both a juicy meal and the juicy conversation he's overhearing.
Jinshi is hurt that Maomao seems to want to get away from him as soon as possible. He asks her very earnestly if she enjoys her life in the palace. She really does, but she is worried about her father.
Maomao reveals more about her father Luomen. I think Jinshi is starting to put some pieces together about what position Luomen might have held. He'll need those clues when he gets closer to figuring out Maomao's true identity.
And it is good to see Maomao open up a little bit. She so rarely talks to Jinshi or anyone about her past, her hopes or her fears. That she does so here, with Jinshi is a step towards friendship.
Maomao sees the restaurant that Jinshi has an appointment at and notices all the ladies hanging over the men outside. She says she could have taken Jinshi to some place in the Pleasure District if this was what he was interested in. She sounds disappointed in Jinshi, or maybe she is disappointed in herself for the jealousy she feels. That she both thinks Jinshi is a eunuch and that he want to visit a courtesan is... interesting. Not that I don't think a eunuch couldn't have fun at a brothel, mind you, but still, her ability to misread a situation is always interesting. I'm confident that Jinshi is not here to meet up with someone for the reasons Maomao thinks. He may be here to meet a courtesan, but if he is, than it is to gather intel.
Honestly I'd support Jinshi if he were here for a hook up. He's committed to no one at this point, and at this rate he'll hook up with Maomao by about the time he is old enough to functionally be a eunuch, so have at it. Go wild Jinshi.
Jinshi finally gets up the courage to ask a terrible question: how to reduce the value of a courtesan. Maomao answers as I expected, you either take her purity or worse yet, you impregnant her. I'm gonna be sick. Lakan is so terrible. Just why is Jinshi so interested in this topic? Is this all to find dirt on Lakan? Does Jinshi suspect Maomao's origins are from the courtesan that Lakan "decreased the value of?" Does Jinshi have his own motives for wanting to decrease the value of a courtesan?
Jinshi is stunned, or perhaps horrified to realize what it might take to lower the value of a courtesan. It's a surreal conversation between these two. Maomao has to wonder why Jinshi is even asking the question. I can't think that she would believe Jinshi wants to use this method to decrease the value of a courtesan, but perhaps she thinks he might be interested in purchasing someone's contract? I don't know what Jinshi hopes to do with the info. Is this something he hopes to figure out to help him against Lakan? If he was hoping the answer would help him find a way to help Maomao, he now knows it's a method that he won't be willing to use. I really can't see him trying to take her purity or impregnate her. If those things were ever going to happen, he would want them to be out of mutual affection, which is still lightyears away.
I kept expecting this outing to be fun, and parts of it are, but there is so much that is undefined and unsaid between these two that there is an unsteady tension throughout the whole outing. Ultimately, the date fails to change any of it. Maomao does open up a bit about her father which is amazing. We so rarely see her talk about her life or her hopes or goals. Jinshi listens intently. And that is kind of the highlight of the day to me.
Obviously the final conversation about how to reduce the cost of a courtesan is important too. But without seeing the end of that conversation I can only guess what impact a question like that might have on these two's relationship. Because the implications of even asking the question aren't great, and I don't know where Maomao's mind is. What does she think Jinshi capable of? I tend to think she knows and trusts Jinshi pretty well, but when there is emotion involved her judgement gets all screwy.
And we haven't yet learned what Jinshi is up to. He wanted to come here in disguise for a reason. I assume he is trying to get information to help him against Lakan. At least, I hope that's what he's up to. Lakan is bad news.
To start at the beginning: Episode 1
Next Episode:
Episode 18
33 notes · View notes
orange-orchard-system · 23 hours
Text
Sometimes it's like. You look at someone and you wonder how they go about their days with a reliable memory. What that's like. What it feels like to just know things, to be able to give examples of your life, to be able to answer a question of a happy memory you have without racking your brain for scraps. You plug it into the search box but all you can think about when you see the results is what it must be like to remember that you forgot.
And sometimes it's like. You wonder how anyone functions without that warm feeling in the back of your head of your others, always there for you. Happy and hopeful and picking each other up when one of you falls – maybe a little frayed at the edges, maybe with some wounds that need healing, but sticking together all the same. It's warm like a campfire and warm like excitement, warm like how clouds look to be, even though you know they're cold and wet. You can turn back to them and get a thousand whispered promises of support before you even ask.
And sometimes it's like. You see people laughing at a joke in which you are the butt, the punchline, the freak. And you wonder how they can hate you, how they can show it so casually, what gave them the courage, what prevented their shame. But you never wonder why, because you already know – that's what the joke's about.
And sometimes you know you're not going to remember something even as you're standing in the middle of it. Maybe you try to enjoy the moment – but does it really matter when you're not really experiencing it in the first place?
And sometimes you wonder where you are. And sometimes you wonder who you are.
And sometimes it's like. You're staring at the person who just said they know you, and you have no idea if they're telling the truth, and you have no idea if you can trust them. You don't remember them, but maybe they remember you? Or maybe it's a lie – maybe it's a trick, like how the bullies from childhood would pretend to care. Like how your parents would pretend to care. So you turn them down and admit you don't recognize them, because disappointing someone genuine is safer than risking a knife to the chest – after all, you don't even know if it'll be figurative or literal.
And sometimes it's like. Did your food go bad because you forgot about it? Or is it still good, and you just don't like it right now? Will you like it again later? Did you make the wrong decision in cooking this tonight and not saving it for later? Or did they just change the production of the ingredients? Can you stomach your dinner when you hate it? When it tastes so bad, but used to taste so good?
And sometimes it's like. A melody of a conversation, played with no one else and your mind as the instrument. Hums and bells and chirps and whistles; an orchestra could never outperform what you hear from your own head. It is beautiful and wonderful and you wish everyone could get to experience this, but then you remind yourself that not everyone would enjoy such a thing. And then you wonder why.
And sometimes people write those with voices in their head as murderers. And you watch an ad for an upcoming horror movie with apathy; you can't even be disappointed anymore. You've been upgraded from joke to villain.
And sometimes it's joy passed around from one self to another, gaining momentum, swinging and singing and flying until you can't help but beam and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing because one of your selves just told the best joke you've ever heard.
And sometimes you cry, and they are the only ones there to comfort you.
And sometimes you lash out at them. And sometimes they forgive you. And sometimes that forgiveness only makes you bitter, because it's so foreign. It's the person claiming to know you all over again – why should I trust you? Especially when we make each other into jokes and villains in the eyes of everyone else?
And sometimes it's like. I have no choice but to trust you, to be vulnerable with you, and somehow that makes it easier.
And sometimes your others argue over which bowl to use for your cereal, only for all of you to forget the spoon.
And you wonder what it would be like to remember.
And you wonder what it would be like to decide so easily.
And you wonder what it would be like to hate someone like you – until you remember that you know the answer to that one, because you know what's it's like to hate yourself.
And sometimes your others help you write something that isn't quite poetry but isn't quite not, and you've been trying to write something like this for a while but struggled to find the words, and you're up way too late and should honestly just go to bed but first you have to write this down, and your week has been shitty and you're not out of the woods yet, but at least you have their warmth as you trudge through the dark – something small (but not insignificant) to keep you going, being pulled along by hope that isn't yours and a duty to the ones who have been there for you when no one else was.
And sometimes it's like. Can you guys just choose a spoon already?
49 notes · View notes
vodika-vibes · 21 hours
Text
Cowboy Casanova
Summary: When you decided to move to the middle of nowhere to get some perspective in your life, you expect to be bored out of your mind. You definitely don’t expect Bacara.
Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader
Word Count: 4123
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, biting, hints of a breeding kink
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things
A/N: This started out at one thing, turned into another, which turned into a third thing, and anyway it's now what it was supposed to be so I had to change the name, which makes me sad. The Original name was Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy. Anyway! I hope you like my sin. Also, this is a western au because...I don't have a reason other than Bacara with a cowboy hat. I'm sorry. Anyway, no requests got done today because of this. Note, this isn't edited - so if you see any errors, no you didn't.
Tumblr media
“You’re staring,”
“Am not.” You reply absently as you drag your gaze across Bacara’s bare chest, your eyes lingering first on his dog tags and then on the nipple piercings that he got when he lost a bet.
He chuckles, low and deep, “You’re still staring.”
“If you don’t want to be stared at, then you should put on a shirt.” You counter, unrepentant.
Bacara arches a brow and flings a rag at your face, making you sputter and scrunch up your nose, “You wouldn’t say that if I was staring at you.”
“Of course not. Double standards are a thing after all.”
He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, leaning into your personal space as he picks up his rag again, a smug smirk crossing his face when your gaze drops to his chest and then his waist, before snapping back to his face, “See something you like, city mouse?”
Your face heats, but you keep your gaze locked with his, “Just worried that your pants are going to fall down since they’re hanging so low.”
“Fashion choice,” Bacara replies with a shrug, as he walks away from you and back over to the machine he’s trying to make work, “Besides, it’s hot as balls out here, and I hate the feel of my shirt sticking to my skin.”
Well, he’s not wrong about that.
Bacara leans back into the engine block and reaches in, “Why don’t you just pay someone to come and fix it?” You ask.
“You have the money for some repair man from the city to drive out here and fix this? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“You own, like, a dozen cows.”
“There are three dozen of them, actually.”
“That’s not the point that you think it is.”
He laughs and pulls back, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Come here, I need a small hand.”
“I don’t fix things, Bacara.” You warn, though you do hop off the bale of hay that you’ve been sitting on and walk over to him.
“You need to learn, city mouse. What happens if something breaks in your home?”
“Uh, I’ll call you.”
“What if I’m not available?”
“Why wouldn’t you be available?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t exist to come running at your beck and call.” Bacara replies dryly.
“What? Wow! Really?” You marvel sarcastically, and then you yelp when he pinches your side. “Rude!”
“Alright, Little Miss Sass, I need you to reach into there and feel around for any loose wires.” Bacara explains as he presses his chest against your back and points where he needs your help.
“Wires? I’m not going to get electrocuted, am I?” You ask as you try, really, really hard to not get distracted at the feel of him pressed against you.
He shoots you a look, “Of course not. It’s totally safe.”
“Fiiine.” You sigh out as you reach into the opening and feel around blindly, “Um...okay, I found a wire.”
“Excellent work,” His voice is low against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver. Embarrassingly, he notices and a quiet chuckle falls from him, “I need you to follow the wire and tell me if it’s connected on both ends.”
You ignore him, as best as you can, and feel around for a moment, “I...think so? It doesn’t feel loose at least.”
“Damn, I was hoping you’d say the opposite. Alright, pretty girl. You’re done. This is now, officially, someone elses problem.”
You pull your hand out and make a face at the oil on your fingers, “I thought you didn’t want to pay-”
“I don’t, which is why I’ll have Neyo come and fix it.”
“Ripping off your own brothers, shame-”
“What are brothers for if not a little unpaid labor every now and then?” Bacara asks rhetorically, “Come on, you can come inside and get that stuff off your hand.” He picks his hat up off his work table, and pauses before setting it on his head.
He shoots you a small smirk, and drops his hat on your head, it immediately tilts over your eyes, and you use the back of your hand to tilt the rim back so you can look at him, “Well, how do I look?” You ask with a small grin.
Bacara lazily drags his gaze across your body, his smirk growing, “Hot as hell,” He drawls.
Your face heats again. Still, you’re not able to stop the delight from sliding across your face, “Well, thank you~”
He stares at you for a moment longer, and then motions for you to follow him. It’s kind of unnecessary, you could navigate Bacara’s ranch blindfolded and drunk, but you do appreciate being able to walk with him.
After you get yourself cleaned up, which takes a lot longer than you anticipated since the oil just did not want to come off your hands, you meander from the guest bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen.
He’s still not wearing a shirt, and you’re beginning to think that he’s walking around like that intentionally. “Did you manage to get the oil off?” Bacara asks as he turns to face you.
“Yeah, eventually. The bottle of special soap was empty, so I had to make some more real quick.” You shrug easily as you sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. You don’t mind, you normally make it for him anyway.
Your parents would be so proud. Thousands of credits spent on a fancy Chem degree...and you use it mixing oil removing soap.
“Sorry about that, I should have checked earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You fold your legs under you, and your attention lands on something interesting on the table.
Now. Bacara is a rancher, there’s always new and interesting things laying around his house that he needs to explain to you. Over the year that you’ve been friends with him, you’ve learned a lot about ranching and about the things that he needs to do his job well.
This, however, is new.
“Bacara?” You sound slightly bemused as you reach across the table and hook a finger under, surprisingly silky, maroon rope, “What’s this for?” You ask as you turn your gaze to him.
Unless your eyes are deceiving you, there’s a hint of a blush on his face.
“It’s a joke gift. From Cody.” Bacara replies as he walks over to the table and picks up the rope, only to hesitate for a moment, “Although-” he murmurs quietly, as if to himself, as he pulls some of the rope out and lays it across your wrist, “It would look amazing wrapped around your wrists.”
You tilt your head and your mouth is slightly dry, you’re pretty sure that his comment was meant to be an inside thought, not an outside one, but it’s not like you can unring that bell.
“I think it’d look better wrapped around yours.” You blurt, and his gaze snaps to meet yours, “The color would look amazing against your skin tone.” You add, sheepishly.
He stares at you, and you stare right back at him.
And just as you’re about to apologize, Bacara smirks.
“Alright.”
You blink at him, “Alright?”
“Alright. Lets see what you’re capable of.”
You blink at him again. And then a third time as his words process, “Wait! Really?”
“Really. Unless you think you can’t handle it.”
“I can handle it,” You shoot back, “The question is can you?”
He folds his arms across his broad chest, “Let’s make this a little more fun-”
“-more fun then you getting tied up?”
His grin is predatory and sharp, “I don’t beg. Ever. For anyone.” He advances on you, “However, if you can make me beg in say...an hour, you win this little challenge and I’ll do whatever you want for a week.”
“You already do whatever I want, Bacara.” You point out.
“Unimportant.” He replies, “But when you lose-”
“-if. If I lose-”
His gaze locks with yours and his grin becomes even more predatory, “When you lose,” Bacara repeats, “I get two hours to make you beg for me, and when I win you’ll do whatever I want for a week.”
“Hold on now! How come you get two hours and I only get one?” You demand.
“Because I’m going to spend the first hour with my face buried in your pussy, that’s why.”
Your entire thought process screeches to a halt as your train of thought derails. “...oh.”
“So what do you say, city mouse? Do we have a deal?”
And, really, there’s only one thing you can say to that, “Deal.”
Bacara advances on you again, essentially crowding you, as he walks you through his home and into his bedroom. His eyes a glittering with arousal, but he doesn’t touch you, as much as you can tell that he wants to.
He kicks the bedroom door shut and turns on the lamp so there’s some light in the room, and then he folds his arms and waits.
You gaze at him thoughtfully, a small smile on your lips, “You’re wearing too much. Strip.”
His gaze is hot as it lingers on your face, “Yes ma’am,”
You consider watching him strip for a moment, but instead turn to the bed and start setting up the rope, while pulling out your phone to look up safe ways to tie him up.
“Alright,” You murmur to yourself as you make sure the ropes are secure around the bed frame, and you climb off the bed to focus your attention on him, “Pick a position that’s comfortable for you, Bacara.” You say as you carefully don’t take your eyes off his face.
“Not even gonna steal a peek, kitten?” Bacara asks, as he moves passed you and settles on the bed, with his back pressed against the headboard.
“I lady doesn’t peek, Bacara,” You sniff.
“Oh? Do they tie up their friends.”
“I can leave you know.”
He laughs and grabs your wrist to tug you onto the bed, you tumble against him, your hands settling on his shoulders, as he reaches around you to settle his hand on the back of your neck, “I want you to look, kitten. After all, I need to know if I meet your approval.” You have to shift to get more comfortable, eventually straddling his thigh so you’re not twisted uncomfortably.
You roll your eyes, but slowly drag your gaze down his chest, a nearly silent sigh of delight falling from you when you see that he’s still wearing his dog tags. Bacara chuckles lowly, and you hurriedly continue your visual perusal of the man beneath you.
He’s solid, your Bacara. Oh sure, he has a belly, but you’re pretty sure that he’s solid muscle, like the professional weight lifters you used to know in college. Big, beefy, and could lift you with one arm if he was so inclined.
Absently you trail your fingers down his chest, teasingly skirting around the nipple piercings, and down his stomach, and then your gaze lands on his cock.
Already erect and with precum leaking from the head.
He’s gorgeous.
But that’s not what catches your attention. No. What catches your attention is the golden piercings.
You blink at the piercings dumbly for a moment. “Holy shit Bacara.” You blurt, “Why didn’t you say that you had cock piercings?”
“Not really something that comes up in polite conversations,” He counters with a grin.
“But...If I had know then my-” You cut yourself off before you finish the thought, and you snap your gaze to his face, “Never mind.”
“Oh no, you definitely need to finish that thought, kitten.” Bacara practically purrs, “Come on, your what?”
“Nope. Not going there.” You shift your weight slightly, and reach down to grab his wrist, but Bacara doesn’t let you move it. “Really?”
He smirks, “Tell me, and I’ll let you tie me up.”
“Don’t you automatically lose if you don’t let me even try?” You try to bargain.
His smirk widens, “No, because I saw that look on your face. You want my face in your pussy.”
Damn him for being right.
“Fine,” You drag the word out, “I might have fantasized about you before. Maybe.”
He smirks smugly, “Knew it. Alright, you may continue.”
“I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be the one in control right now.” You counter, even as you bring his hand to the headboard and carefully loop the rope around his wrist.
Bacara hums and his still free hand comes up to caress your hip, “Oh, kitten. I need you to understand that I’m letting you do this. But I need you to know that I’m the one in control here, not you.”
Your fingers slip on the rope, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that for the sake of the challenge.” You finally say once you finish with your knot, “How’s that? Too tight?”
Bacara tugs at the rope experimentally, “Good enough.” He finally says, as he lifts his other hand to the headboard.
You’re a lot faster this time, now that you know what you’re doing, and you sit back on your heels as you look at him. “I was right,” You finally say as you climb off of him so you’re able to peel your own clothes off.
“Bout what?” Bacara asks as he watches you strip with hungry eyes.
“That color does look amazing against your skin.”
He hums his understanding, tilting his head so he’s able to watch you push your shorts and panties down your legs. “I can just about guarantee that it’s going to look much better against yours.”
You set your clothes on a chair and climb on the end of the bed, settling yourself between his feet.
Bacara looks completely relaxed, and you’re beginning to accept that he was right, he is the one in control here, as much as it might seem like you are. “Just gonna sit there and stare at me, kitten?” He drawls.
“I’m thinking.”
“Do you need some direction?” He offers, “Because I can do that.”
“I’m not giving up yet, Bacara.” You counter as you slide up so that you’re better able to reach him, your fingers feather light as you glide them across his thigh.
His muscle twitches under your touch, “Yet, huh.” Bacara says with a small smirk, “Good to know.”
Finally fed up with his comments, you surge up and crash your lips against his. Your hands wander across his chest, lightly flicking his piercings, as you trail your tongue across his lower lip.
You’re almost surprised when he takes control of the kiss.
Almost.
He catches your lower lip between his teeth, and nips you roughly enough that a squeak falls from you. Bacara then soothes the sore spot with a lazy swipe of his tongue, and the moment you part your lips for him, his tongue slides against your own.
He maps out your mouth with a single minded intensity that leaves you moaning, and encourages you to straddle him again. When you break the kiss, you’re slightly breathless, and his gaze is dark as is slides across your face.
“You should give up, kitten.” Bacara purrs.
You shake your head, “I can still win.”
He laughs, “You’re already straddling me, and we haven’t done much more than kissing.”
“That-”
“I’ll make you feel so good, kitten.” He purrs as he tugs his wrist once, causing the knot to unravel. He presses his hand against the small of your back, and pulls you closer, and you shiver when you feel his hard erection pressed against you.
Unthinkingly, you grind against him, the head of his cock pressing deliciously against your clit and a moan fall from your lips as you do so.
His arm hooks tightly around your waist, and he pulls you closer so that he’s able to trail his lips against your throat, “Say you give up, kitten. And I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
Your lips turn down into a small pout.
“We can try this again later,” He promises, very temptingly, “After you’ve had some time to prepare properly.”
You peer at him, and then release a heavy sigh, and reach up to untie his other hand, “This isn’t me giving up.”
“Of course not.” Bacara agrees, suspiciously easily, “But, it is you forfeiting, which means it’s my turn.”
You squeak as he flips you so that you’re under him, smoothly using one hand to pin your hand over your head and tying them together and to the headboard.
Bemused, you tug on the ropes, but there’s no give whatsoever, “How-”
“Practice. I’ll teach you properly for next time.”
“...this game was designed for me to lose from the get go, wasn’t it.”
He grins and leans over you, his lips hovering just over yours, “Good girl, I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Not gonna deny that.” He replies before he kisses you deeply, but quickly.
And then he’s moving down your body, biting marks into the soft skin of your neck and throat, across your collar, and down your chest. You squirm and writhe under his attention, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.
He takes a quick moment to lavish your nipples with attention, before he’s moving again. At this, you’re unable to keep yourself from gasping out his name, and you feel his lips curl up into a smile against your breast.
Bacara litters your stomach and sides with possessive marks and then he leaves a trail of bite marks from your hip to your thighs. By this point, you’re a moaning mess, you don’t care if this means that he wins, you just don’t want him to stop.
And only then, when he’s sure that you’re covered in his marks, and when you’re whining for him, does he spread your legs to make room for himself between your thighs.
“Look at you,” Bacara praises lightly as he drags a single finger between your folds, a pleased smirk crossing his face as your hips twitch towards him, “You’re already wet. Do you have a biting kink, kitten?”
Your face burns at his words, and you stubbornly press your lips together to not say anything.
Bacara clicks his tongue, and his hand lands, heavily, on your outer thigh. It surprises you more than it hurts you, and you blink at him wide eyed, “I asked you a question.”
You know what he wants to hear. Even though you’re so horny that you almost can’t stand it. Even though his large, calloused finger is circling your clit in a way that is kind of driving you insane. You still know what he wants to hear.
What he’s expecting to hear.
Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips, and you plaster on your most innocent expression, “Did you?” You ask, slightly breathlessly as you clench around nothing from his teasing, “I wasn’t listening.”
Bacara stops. His fingers stop moving, and his hand, which was caressing your thigh and the red mark blooming there, stops moving as well. He searches your face for something, and then a slow smirk crosses his lips.
“Safe word or color?”
Your heart racing with excitement, you breath out, “Color.”
He hums, “What color are you?”
“Green.” You blurt, “Very green.”
For a moment, there’s a glimmer of something warm and soft on his handsome face, before it’s gone. “So, it sounds like you are able to listen.”
“When I want to.”
“Then it sounds like I just need to teach you that you need to listen to me, doesn’t it?”
You feel a thrill of delight, “If you ever said anything worth listening to-” You words get cut off with a ragged moan as he suddenly thrusts a finger into your pussy and curls it, almost instinctively finding the spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.
“I’m going to tell you how this is going to go,” Bacara says, a hint of promise in his voice, “I’m going to give you as many orgasms as I want, you are only allowed to cum when I allow it.” He eases his finger out of your pussy, and licks it clean with an appreciative hum, “And, if you don’t obey me, I’ll have to punish you.”
“Punish?” You ask.
He just smirks, “Do you understand? Answer verbally.”
“I understand,”
“Good girl,” He gives himself a couple of lazy strokes as he examines your splayed out body appreciatively. “I did say that I was going to bury my face in your pussy, didn’t I.” He muses, loud enough that you’re able to hear him, “But I don’t think you’ve earned that.”
That pulls an unhappy noise from your lips, and he chuckles, “Only good girls get to have their pussy eaten, and you haven’t been a good girl.” He releases your legs, letting them fall back to the bed, before he reaches up to check the ropes one more time, and then flips you, making sure that the ropes didn’t twist in such a way to hurt you. “There we go,” Bacara murmurs as he smooths his hand over your ass and then squeezes roughly
You squirm under him, but settle when you feel his hand press against your lower back. He quickly eases a pillow under your hips and adjusts your legs so that you’re spread wide for him.
He doesn’t touch you for a moment, though you can feel his heavy gaze dragging against you body. Just as you start to squirm, a little self conscious about being so exposed, his hands are on you again.
His hands are calloused and heavy on your body, and you’re sure you’re going to have bruises from his hands covering your body, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care as his hands press into you.
And then you don’t care about anything as the blunt head of his cock presses against you. Slowly he eases inch after inch inside you, and you’re squirming and whining before he’s even halfway sheathed.
The piercing feels amazing inside you, and you find yourself clenching around him.
Bacara groans and bites down on the back of your neck, “No cumming, kitten.” He warns as he slowly pushes the rest of the way in. As soon as he’s bottomed out, he presses a light kiss to the mark on the back of your neck.
He doesn’t move for a moment, and then he slowly eases out, until only the head of his cock is inside you. Bacara waits a beat, until you squirm to try and get him to move again, and then he thrusts in hard and fast.
He keeps the rapid pace, his breath hot against your ear, his hand fisted in your hair to keep your head down.
The sensations of his hand in your hair, and low groans in your ear, adding to the amazing feeling of his piercings dragging against your walls and the delicious stretch of his cock, are too much to handle.
And try as you might, you’re not able to keep yourself from cumming with a cry of his name.
You feel him laugh, “That’s punishment 1, kitten.”
“Not my fault-” You gasp, “Feels too good.”
“Oh? What’s that? Harder you said?” Bacara asks, as he adjusts himself slightly, before he leans in and catches your earlobe between his teeth. Before he does exactly as he warned, thrusting hard enough that you release a noise that is something between a moan and a sob of sheer pleasure.
“Good girl,” Bacara purrs, “You’re taking me so well.” He smooths his hand up your spine, “Such a willing little thing,” He coos in your ear, “I’m going to ruin you, kitten.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.
“Please,” You whisper, “Please ruin me.”
For half a moment, Bacara’s hips stutter, and he releases a deep groan. “Oh, princess. Gladly.” He pulls out completely, pulling a disapproving whine from your lips and then he flips you back onto your back, before he thrusts back into you hard and fast. “I’m going to stuff you full of my cum, princess.” He promises, “Over and over and over, until I’m good and done.”
“Cara-” You whine his name as you arch against him as best as you can.
“So, be my good girl and take all of me,” He orders as he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, “Be my good girl, and I’ll ruin you.” He promises, his gaze dark.
And, really, how can you do anything other than obey him after that promise.
28 notes · View notes
max1461 · 7 hours
Text
I guess...
I've made some posts criticizing the mindset/priorities of "tech people" recently, and I think I've been a little bit unfair. I hope it's clear by now that I don't have an inherent problem with people who value different things than me. But I guess I'm just a bit salty about this, for probably a couple of reasons.
I used to consider myself a "tech person", when I was a lot younger. As a kid/early teen (in the 2000s) I started learning to code, and I wanted to either be a game dev or a penetration tester when I got older. I spent a lot of my time in online tech spaces, of various sorts. And I remember a different tech culture. I remember a culture that was... what's the word, mischievous? Unruly? People who wanted to take things apart and put them back together again, people who wanted to break things and reverse engineer things just to prove that they could, people who valued, I don't know what to call it, fucking around? And people who did not want to be told what to do. That old(er) tech culture is where I learned most of my left-libertarian sensibilities in the first place. I guess it was "hacker culture", in the very broadest sense of that term.
But the "tech culture" I see today, even from people my age and of my approximate politics, is just not the same? It's so fucking self-serious. It's not playful, it's not rebellious. It's about Changing The World (i.e. reshaping the world in the image of tech people). That's what I dislike about it so strongly. It's big, it's universalizing. It's not "I don't want the Man to mess with me", it's "I want to invent the new thingamabob that'll reshape everyone's life in five years". Not that doing that is necessarily bad, but aspiring to it is... I don't know, troubling to me?
And here's where I have to talk about rationalism, because rationalism (I don't want to generalize unfairly, but let's just say... in a lot of cases) epitomizes this attitude to me more than anything else. This self-seriousness so extreme that it almost feels religiously-inflected. It's about the whole future light cone, it's about optimizing the timeline. I just, it makes me fucking uncomfortable to be around that kind of talk!
[This post, by the way, was prompted by the recent statements of Balaji Srinivasan, which are another prime example of the shit I am talking about]
And, look. I want this post to be understood as basically personal in nature. Whatever my political or object-level disagreements with Yudkowsky, Alexander, Srinivasan, or any others may be, I don't need to articulate those disagreements with an attack on their Weltanschauung. I think it is valuable that people with many different sensibilities exist in the world, and I think, like most any other, the sort of grandiose and zealous sensibility represented by the 2020s tech-adjacent intelligentsia probably provides worthwhile perspective in various domains. But I can't help resent it a bit, because it's pretty much as far as possible from my sensibility, and I feel like I just can't get away from it! It keeps showing up in places that I'm trying to spend my time!
Ah well. I know this was fairly critical, and if you're a big rationalist light cone type of person, I... am sorry for being so critical. I really do support you in Doing Your Thing, at the end of the day. I just wish the general set of attitudes I see from that crowd could maybe be a bit less totalizing, and a bit more friendly to other sorts of people pursuing other things under other auspices. I don't know.
Now that I've said my piece, I'll try to be less passive aggressive in various posts.
32 notes · View notes
tac-the-unseen · 2 days
Text
Jeepers Creepers x Reader
Fluff and angst, minor edits for formatting.
CW: Car crash, blood, Gore, ambulance, broken glass, bad friends :(
Tumblr media
It purred at you.
It fucking purred at you.
Days ago, while on a long road trip with your close friends, you made a stop at a diner. It was just supposed to be a quick pit stop to get gas and a quick meal at around 4:30 pm.
You remember getting a salad because you weren't as hungry. You remember your best friend Sammy ordering the most food out of everyone in the group. You remember splitting the bill anyway because Sammy has been your dearest friend for years.
Then there was a phone ringing. It was across the room, just barely tucked away from view. An older blonde waitress answered the phone with an obviously rehearsed semi-cheerful greeting. Her fake smile quickly turned into a confused frown. She turned towards the diner half full of people and then turned back around. Everyone in the diner paused, trying to listen to the waitress speak.
“Who?” She asked the person on the other side quietly. She pulled the phone away from her ear and turned around to face the people. “Is there anyone named (y/n) in the building?” She asked out to the other patrons.
All your friends turn to look at you. You give them a confused look then raised your hand while trying to shimmy out of the booth. The waitress waved you over and you quickly and quietly made your way over to the phone. She handed you the phone and walked away and back behind the counter to check on and run some food.
You took a breath “Hello?” You asked softly. A woman answered back, “(Y/n) (L/n) is that you?” She said it in such a hurried tone you almost couldn't make out what she said. “Hello, who is this?” You asked again. The woman answers back almost immediately “(y/n), you're traveling with your friends in a brown and blue SUV, right? You ordered a salad with extra dressing?”
You freeze. Your eyes widen in horror. You turn around to look out onto the diner floor. “this is a joke right?” You muttered weakly at the lady on the other side of the phone. “Have you seen the truck yet? What about the crows?” She questioned frantically. “Did you see it? Did you see it's house?” She said, almost pleading.
“No I-” you started, but she cut you off quickly. “Now you listen to me. If you see a flock of crows, run. Run faster than you've ever ran before.” The woman commanded. You had a feeling that if you were face to face with the woman, she'd be spitting when she talked. Before you could answer back the phone was ripped out of your hands by someone.
You looked up at the person and quickly released who it was. It's one of the guys you're traveling with, Jeremy. Jeremy isn't really your friend, but he's Sammy’s friend so he tagged along. He starts to talk to the woman on the phone but quickly gets frustrated. Jeremy shoves you out of the way and begins to yell at the woman. He slams the phone back onto the receiver and turns to you. “who the fuck was that?” he asked. “I don't know, but she knew my name and our car.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh and takes a breath. “She knew my name too. Said it like she knew me all my life.” he looks over at the group and then back to you. “we got to leave, and soon.” you and Jeremy make it back to the booth and silently decide not to tell the others about the odd call. When Sammy asked you just told them it was your ex who found out where you guys were from another mutual friend. Sammy seemed skeptical but accepted the explanation.
When everyone was ready you made it outside to pile back into the SUV. You guys make it back to the road and try to bring the cheer back into the night. The car radio was broken so you, using your foresight, brought your portable radio. You also brought a backpack full of CDs. You pop in a CD the group voted on and slowly you all start singing to the music.
After a few minutes the vibe in the car is restored. Jeremy, who was driving the car, was dancing a little bit but still being a diligent driver. Abby was in the passenger seat, she didn't talk much but she seemed to be having fun anyway. Sam and Joey in the middle row, both talking about something you didn't care to listen to. And you in the back, the car's personal DJ. You lean forward to reach the middle seat and Joey turns to look at you.
“Spare some Scooby-Doo gummies, Sir?” You ask and a fake Victorian poor boy accent. Joey chuckles and turns to dig into a bag just out of your sight. Sam turns quickly to look at you “You JUST ate!” They accuse. Rolling your eyes you catch a glimpse into the front car mirror. Your eyes widened and you quickly turned around. A big rusted teal truck is only 45 feet away from the SUV. “Is that a fucking armored truck?” Joey sputters out.
“What?” Jeremy inquires, Not taking his eyes off the road quite yet. “God damn it, I can't see the rear view mirror through your fat fucking skull!” Jeremy snaps. Both you and Joey move out of the way only to quickly hear a “Shit” come from the front seat. Jeremy slowly accelerated the van, but skillfully maintained control. Abby turns to look, her eyes widen in horror. “It's speeding up!” She sputtered out.
The truck speeds up and before anyone can react, it rams into the back of the SUV. The car lurches forward and Abby slams her head onto the dashboard. Hard. If not for your seatbelt you would have launched into the middle seats. You shift back into your seat automatically, and decide to cover your neck and head. When you lean forward to cover your face the truck rams into the van again and glass is sent flying into the car. You feel the glass break against your back. The force of the push sends you forward only to shove you backwards into your seat. The force sends the glass deeper into your skin. Little razor like cuts slices against your shoulders and back. The wounds feel hot and angry against the spring winds, you lift your head to look at the damage of your friends. You quickly realize Abby and Sam are screaming in terror, and Joey is begging Jeremy to drive faster.
Jeremy presses his foot to the gas, but it doesn't matter, the truck is faster. Amongst the chaos you can hear the growls of the truck, it pulls to the left of the van and speeds up. “Fuck fuck fuckfuck-” Jeremy curses before the truck slams into the side of the van. Abby and Sam scream louder, and you can see tears roll down Abby’s cheeks.
Finally Jeremy slams on the break and lets the truck blaze past us. The truck doesn't stop and keeps driving up and over past the hill. Suddenly all there is is screaming, crying, and hard breathing. You remember seeing Joey cover his face with his hands to silently cry.
With the adrenaline slowly leaving your body the pain in your back properly sets in. Your hands slowly reach up your hand to touch your back, and come back with blood. You're not bleeding profusely, but it's enough to raise alarm. Jeremy looks back to his passengers while comforting Abby. “Is everybody okay?” He asks, You raise your bloody hand and his eyes go wide. He rips off his seatbelt and climbs over the center console, past the middle seats to get to you. He looks you over and looks at your back.
The group decides to turn around to get you help. The ride lasts only 20 minutes. You remember 20 minutes of hunching over while Sam and Joey pick the big pieces of glass out of your skin. 20 minutes of biting down on your arm, But eventually you get back to the diner. Jeremy gets out of the SUV, slams the car door, and bolts inside. Abby continues to cry in the front seat while Sam comforts you, and Joey comforts Abby.
Eventually Jeremy and other diner patrons come back out to the SUV. You remember the new quiver in Jeremy's voice when he told you and the group that he had called the police and that the nearest ambulance would take almost a half an hour to arrive. That's what an older woman says that she is a retired registered nurse and that she could assess the damage while we wait.
With almost everybody's permission she enters the SUV and starts to attend to your back. You don't quite remember what she said but she was very chatty. You do remember how she praised Sam and Joey for removing the glass, well she tends to your wounds she tries in vain to make conversation with you. You do remember telling her that if you weren't so exhausted you would chat back with her, she gracefully accepted that answer.
When she's done with your more serious injuries she moves on to tend to Abby. She says something about a concussion Abby's eye bleeding being from a popped blood vessel in the eye. What you really remember from the situation is Jeremy crawling into the back seat to hold your hand while you silently cry and pain. Finally in the distance everyone can hear sirens.
He watches everyone collectively breathes the style of relief as a police car and two ambulances roll up. The paramedics nearly jump out of their vehicle and rush over to the van to collect you and Abby. You remember Jeremy getting out of the van while three paramedics gently slide you out of the back seat and put you on to a stretcher. They lay you on your stomach and pull up your shirt, They started asking you a bunch of questions. Your name, your date of birth, where you live, and what happened. They wheel you into the back of the ambulance to assemble their equipment and fix you up.
“It doesn't seem like you need to go to the hospital” One of them says while picking out small pieces of glass from your lower back. “We could probably dig out the rest of the smaller chunks of glass and send you on your way.” Another paramedic tells you that you're lucky the damage isn't worse. And how the only reason the damage is this bad is because your back slammed back into the seat digging the glass deeper. “Don't know what deity liked you, but as far as I can tell most of the glass in your back is pretty big.” He pauses “which yes, is a good thing. It'd be hard digging out really small pieces of glass.”
You quickly tune them out, Not caring about their rambles it seemed to mostly be for themselves. It takes them a little bit but finally they start spraying your back and shoulders with disinfectant, and petroleum jelly before they start wrapping you all back together. “We don't think there's any need for stitches either.” The only female paramedic told you. “It should heal up beautifully, but we still recommend you see a doctor when you make it to wherever you're going.”
They call over Sam and tell them the good news. Sam helps you stand up, something you immediately regret. You let out a sharp hiss followed by a groan.
Eventually the cops question you but with everybody else already being questioned you hardly have anything to add. They thank you anyway and leave for their respective vehicles. By the time the cops and paramedics are gone it's closer to 7:00 p.m.
One of the older patrons who was still there invites you guys all back into the diner so he can buy you all dinner. He specified that he doesn't have much so not to go crazy but he can at least spare a couple dollars for a meal.
Everyone thanks him, declines his offer of payment, but head back to the diner anyway. You walk stiffly back into the diner and instead of sliding back into a booth you make it to the bar stools and sit down.
It's around 8:30 when someone runs into the diner and shouts about an SUV being seemingly broken into. You twist around on your bar stool as Jeremy and Joey run out the front door to investigate.
When they come back they explain to you, Sam, and Abby that the car had in fact been broken into but that it looks like nothing had been stolen. But they both say that the weird thing that's different is that everybody's clothes had been thrown around. Joey calls the cops this time.
It's nearing 10 when a police cruiser pulls up to investigate. You don't know anything about the situation as you can hardly sit up straight and there was no way in hell you were standing up and waddling outside. So you stayed inside the diner sipping on a milkshake. It's by this point in the night you're begging to just go home.
You actually end up falling asleep on the countertop. You're woken up by Sam and Abby telling you it's time to go. Sam helps you stand up and holds onto you and Abby as you make it out of the diner. Looking at the van you see that somebody has taped clear plastic wrap crudely to the back of the car where the rear window would be. You also now fully see how dented the back of the car is. You're reminded of how easily the glass shattered when the truck drove into you guys. When you walk up to the car Jeremy and Joey are sitting in the front seats discussing something but abruptly stop when you guys arrive. You collectively decide that Sam and Abby will get the middle row and you'll get the back seat again this time laying on your stomach for the duration of the drive.
Joey tells you that day swept off all the glass from the back seat so you weren't lying in it. “How thoughtful” New grumbled out, remember thinking to yourself about mediocrity and the bare minimum but you don't dwell on it. You pull your backpack full of CDs and portable radio down to the floor, within arms reach, and pop a new CD in.
This time the drive is different. It's quiet. Nobody speaks. The only audible noise being the CD player and the wind whipping around the plastic rear view window. You end up falling asleep again. You're woken up to the feeling of being jolted. When your eyes open it's met with the dark, You realize it's pitch black outside. Jeremy turns around to look at everybody in the back and apologizes for slamming on his brakes. “Deer” He just said apologetically.
As you awake and more and more you notice that from where you're laying you can see trees out of the window and a dark blue sky. Your attempt to sleep is thwarted by the sound of screeching crows. As you mentally grumbled to yourself you remember the shocking horrified feeling of recalling that mysterious phone call earlier of the day.
She had told you to watch out for a truck. She had told you to run it like hell when the crows called. She told you that you'd see a house. You panic and try to sit up as fast as you can but immediately hissed in pain. “Where are we?” You ask desperately. “Still in bumfuck nowhere.” Sam replies “did we pass a house?” You asking a scared voice. Sam turns around to look at you, she gives you an odd look. “No, just trees and fields of wheat.” They said back confused.
While you guys are talking Jeremy slams on his brakes again. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” Joey screeches in horror. “FUCK IF I KNOW!” Replied Jeremy. “What? What's happening?” You desperately plea. as Sam looks at whatever is in front of the car They look back at you “some kind of man looking lizard person???” They say in horrified confusion. You try to sit up again but wail in pain. Before you know it Jeremy has put the car in reverse and is speeding in the opposite direction. Everyone let's add a horrified scream as Abby cries “it can fucking fly!?”
Your imagination runs wild as you're unable to see the creature they're referring to. You can only let out a Sob when something lands on your car. The dent in the roof is in the shape of a v. You too start screaming when a boot swiftly kicks in the front windshield. Jeremy tries to drive erratically to shake the thing off but nothing works, eventually, somehow, the car flips over and sends everybody screaming.
You're jolted from your seat and hit the ceiling of the van with a thud. You scream and pain as you land on your back this time with more glass than ever. This coupled with the acute head trauma causes your vision to blur. It feels like your head is buzzing and a ringing is left in your ears. You still managed to flip yourself over while crying and pain. You hear another thud and another and two more. You see Sam and Abby crawling their way to the side doors. And when you look up to see Jeremy and Joey their doors are already wide open. You're left with a revelation that you're the only one left in the car and that it's your job to get yourself out.
With the most pain you've ever been in, You crawl to where the middle seats should be, and pull yourself up and out of the door. You crawl onto the asphalt and shakily tried to stand up. You sob harder as you make it to your knees and then onto your feet. You hear screaming and shouting and pleading from the distance. Finally someone grabs hold of you and pulls you aside. You look up, and through tears you see Sam.
Sam pulls you into their arms well screaming words that didn't make sense to you. Your head stops shaking and the ringing in your ears dies down. finally you hear the words “WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” Being screamed out by a voice you assume is Abby's. Suddenly everything goes quiet, No sound other than breathing and Sam's heartbeat can be heard. “Is that all you what?” Sam asks, “IS THAT IT?” You can hear the desperation in their tone. “Will you leave us alone?” They ask In a softer tone yet with somehow more desperation. You have no idea what happens or why it happens but suddenly you're shoved back to the floor You just fought to stand up on.
“You can have them.” Sam says “just flip our van back over and they're all yours!” realization finally dawns on you. You're being sacrificed to this creature. Your best friend literally pushed you aside with a promise of making it out of this situation alive. You look up and see the beast grabbing the van and turning it over back onto its wheels with inhuman strength. You let out another wail as you truly realize the deal your friends just made.
You watch as the people you thought were your friends walk over to their van and get back in. You watch Joey crawl into the backseat, and Jeremy with a severely broken leg make it to the middle seat. Sam and Abby take the front seats. You get to watch as Sam makes sure the car can still drive properly, and within seconds they're speeding away. All that's left as a trail of smoke, as the rubber burns on the asphalt.
You see the beast walk over to you, The pounding in your head doesn't cease. You see the thing’s boots coming closer. You can't lift your head to look it in the eyes, but at the same time you're relieved by that. Suddenly your body is lifted and you feel weightless. You try to wiggle around but it holds you closer. While you move in it's arms you feel it's skin. It's sharp and scraps you up decently. So now left with another horrifying revelation, that's not what a human’s skin should feel like. You begin to cry harder.
When you're finally back on the ground you see an old house and the giant armored truck that harassed you earlier. You had stopped crying a little bit ago, figuring that if It was going to kill you, It would have already killed you. You're still uncontrollably shaking like a leaf, but you feel like you can hardly blame yourself. The creature starts walking and eventually it opens the door to the house.
It closes the door behind you guys, you get to quickly look at your surroundings. It's just an old dusty house decorated like a Grandma on LSD got her hold onto it. The thought slightly amuses you but you're quickly sucked back into reality when the creature carries you up the stairs and into a room you can only guess is a bedroom.
Finally after God knows how long, the creature gently sets you down on a mattress piled with dirty clothes, pillows, and blankets. The piles down seem to be random either, it all looks meticulously placed around the bed making what looked like a human version of a bird's nest would look like. The thought snaps in your skull. Nest. You're in the things Nest.
For the first time ever you look at the creature in its shockingly human eyes. It has dark green leathery skin, with what looked like insect mandibles on either side of its face. You lean away from the horrifying monster, but it slowly leans towards you. You can tell by its eyes it's not trying to be intimidating but you don't think there's any possible way it couldn't be.
But you're proven wrong.
It purred at you
It fucking purred at you
Like a cat but much deeper. The creature lowers its head towards you and slowly kneels in front of the nest. It purrs again while closing its eyes. It's clearly trying it’s best not to frighten you anymore, but not sure what to do, you just freeze in place. It slowly lays its head in your lap and continues to purr for you. You can feel its chest against your legs, you can feel the vibrations through your legs and on your thighs. It's oddly soothing, frighteningly so.
You don't know why this creature is being so soft with you, but you choose not to question it too hard. You reason that it is better than being slaughtered, so it's best to just let the creature do its thing. After a few minutes it slowly gets off of you but continues to gently purr at you. It stands up and reaches its clawed fingers out to softly grasp your hand. It leans down and kisses your knuckles before getting back up and leaving the room.
You finally fully lay down in the Nest and sigh. “Better than being eaten.” You say softly and frustratedly rub your eyes. “Better than being eaten.”
Thanks for reading <3
Sorry for poor quality. It's one of those fics where I had written for days and eventually just got so sick of writing it I had to post it.
29 notes · View notes