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#even if i experience attraction on the rare occasion i do/can feels different than how allos do
uncanny-tranny · 2 years
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The grey/demi/fluid/ect aspec experience of being amazed at how allo people experience attraction until it happens to you and you're like, "well FUCK"
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fanby-fckry · 1 month
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Random Facts About UH3 Alastor:
His father was an on-again-off-again feature in his and his mother’s lives until Alastor was 12, and is a big part of why Alastor has BPD traits and gets along better with women than men.
(If you’re new to this AU, or missed my other Cluster B Alastor posts, hi! Author has BPD and accidentally projected onto Alastor. Now I write him as intentionally having multiple Cluster B traits that I do, as well as the ones implied by canon.)
His parents weren’t married – to each other; Alastor has a stepmother he’s never met and doesn’t want to meet.
He claims that drinking was more fun during Prohibition because it was illegal.
He has rose-colored glasses regarding the previous fact; Prohibition-era Alastor absolutely complained about how much harder it was to get alcohol after the ban went through.
He doesn’t view nudity as inherently sexual.
He’s still more comfortable with others’ nudity than his own because he equates it to vulnerability.
He’s panaesthetic and bisensual. He doesn’t know those terms even exist, but picking microlabels helps my writing stay more consistent.
His aesthetic attraction isn’t based at all on gender, but he tends to feel more comfortable with physical affection from women than from men, which skews the sensual attraction a bit.
He can be sensually attracted to men and is sensually attracted to Lucifer, but 1.) it’s rarer and/or takes longer for Alastor to develop sensual attraction to a man, and 2.) Lucifer isn’t a man in the human gender binary sense of the word.
Lucifer is the only nonbinary person Alastor has ever felt any kind of attraction to, but that has more to do with lack of exposure to nonbinary people than anything regarding Alastor’s tertiary orientations.
Alastor may or may not have some gender fuckery of his own going on, but I doubt I’ll ever be exploring that in the main series.
I would describe Alastor’s gender as “man by default.” He doesn’t think about it very often. He’s not exactly an egg; it’s not that he’s in denial or unaware that being something besides a man is an option, it’s that he doesn’t care enough to pick a different label. He’s not dysphoric about being a man, but he’s not supper attached to the idea, either.
I think if he was born into Gen Z, he might identify as agender or cassgender, but as it stands, he inhabits the liminal space between, “I don’t feel strongly about my gender, which means I’m cis,” and “I don’t feel strongly about my gender, which means I’m not cis.” (Both valid experiences, btw.)
He’s 100% the type of person to tell a traumatic story from his childhood as if it’s a funny one and not understand why everyone’s looking at him like that.
He legitimately thinks that these stories are funny, because he’s twisted them around in his mind as an attempt to cope, but they retain enough of the original detail that on the rare occasion he decides to joke about them out loud, people go, “that’s kinda fucked up, actually.”
He has low empathy, but not no empathy. Every now and again, he does actually get some empathy, and every time he does it feels like a slap in the face – surprising and very unpleasant. If he could turn it off entirely, he probably would.
Remorse is a similar ordeal, rare but not unheard of, and he actively denies feeling it.
I started to write more about Alastor’s relationship with the concept of remorse, and remorse vs regret, but honestly, it needs its own post.
I projected a lot of my ace experience onto him, including the idea that kissing is boring 9 times out of 10. Not necessarily unpleasant, just… Boring. If there’s blood or biting or some form of D/s element, then it can be exciting, but otherwise we don’t get it.
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rainbowcolored7 · 2 years
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Okay, now that I've had some time to rewatch and mull over all the information we have so far, I'm going to try and lay out my thoughts. It's gonna get long, I'd meant to do a strictly novel analysis of the scene before it aired, but life got in the way as usual. But I'm kind of glad, 'cause now I can compare the two.
There will be discussion of both the show and the novel below the cut, so if you're not interested in the novel or spoilers please pass this post by.
I'm going to start this off by saying that I am truly happy with the changes they've made in the show when it comes to the consensual aspect of the story between Kinn and Porsche. Also, as a warning, I'm going to be pulling personal experiences out to try and get my thoughts across properly. And, I don't do posts like this, like ever, so sorry if I make zero sense or talk way too much. I just have a lot of thoughts, and on the rare occasion my brain allows me to comprehensively share those thoughts, I need to take advantage.
Let's start this off from the beginning of episode 4. Porsche wakes up in Pete's bed, knows he kissed someone, can't remember, and spends the rest of the first half of the episode trying to piece things together. I know we like to joke about Porsche having a single braincell (and honestly sometimes boy... lol) but he's not an idiot and he does know how to read people. You can't be a good bartender or survive taking care of your family, young and alone, without having a decent grasp on human nature.
I think when Kinn called him up to the balcony and started asking him questions he left that conversation with a flickering of oh, I remember something happened and now Kinn is acting strangely (a theme he vocalizes later in the sauna). I think he's thinking, what did I do this time to make Kinn act so strangely (soft and flirtatious and joking around) towards me?
After he sees Kinn with his escort, realizes Kinn is gay, remembers what happened on the pier, and that what happened wasn't something he did but Kinn kissing him, he asks Pete if you should kiss someone you don't like (and the subtitles changed so don't at me...) , or aren't in a relationship with (or perhaps intentionally pursuing because you like them). Now, obviously, you can kiss people you don't like, but perhaps are just physically attracted to, and I'm sure something is lost in the translation. That or I'm just reading too much into it and Pete saying you only kiss people you like, 'cause baby boy, that ain't true. Side note, I have a feeling Pete might come to realize it isn't true when we get to the point of him with Vegas, but that's an entirely different egg to crack open. (I have also not read that far.)
Now, here, is where I want to point out just how differently Porsche reacts to what happened and how fucking ecstatic I am that they changed it completely. In the novel, Porsche struggles with a lot of internalized homophobia, though he's okay with Yok, who is trans, he mentions it took him some time to be okay with her, but he still recoils at people he thinks might be gay or someone of the same gender expressing interest in him. He frequently compliments men's looks, not just in a friendly way, and thinks about how attractive some men are, Kinn especially. In the novel, once he really realizes he's physically and sexually attracted to Kinn, Porsche has a fucking meltdown of an internal crisis over it. He even goes as far as hitting on all his guy friends trying to reason out why Kinn would be behaving the way he is towards him, and why he kind of likes it (but doesn't, but does, but doesn't etc.). The boy is a mess and in complete denial.
I'm assuming a lot here, and reading between the lines, but how I interpreted it was, Porsche had, at some point in his youth, like a lot of queer youth, gotten a lot of negative feedback about same sex attraction that really dug into his bones, and so whenever he feels anything more than friendship towards another man he freaks out and tries to bury it, all the while wanting it so badly he can't stop himself. i.e. kissing Kinn back and allowing Kinn to essentially do whatever he pleases while being vocally grumpy about it. In the novel, he doesn't know who he is when it comes to his sexuality, he's deep in denial about being bi, and actively fights against it.
The show ripped that all away and gave us the true chaotic bi king we love and adore, and who he should have been in the novel imo. Show Porsche is open, honest to a fault, accepting, understanding. Now, we haven't gotten verbal confirmation that Porsche is bi in the show, but from everything I've witnessed so far I feel safe in saying he's bi, pan, or just plainly doesn't give a fuck as long as he's getting pleasure from his encounters. He seems open to Kinn's attraction as well as his own, though to say for certain we will have to wait until episode 5, where I'm hoping they touch on this subject some more, and I hope it's on the good side in line with the changes from novel Porsche we've gotten so far. (I'm down for some turmoil about him having sex with his boss, but please keep the biphobia out please please).
As much as I'd like to get more into the lead up to the real juicy stuff, I just don't have the energy. So, let's get into the gritty of it, shall we? The drugging scene. We finally made it here. A lot faster than I was expecting? Absolutely. Does it still feel organic after the previous three episodes? If Kinn hadn't said Porsche had been at the compound for a month, yes, but since he did, no.
Porsche has been with Kinn, Khun, the other bodyguards, for a whole month. He's been learning, adjusting, actively trying to become a better bodyguard. The reasons behind his change of heart seem to be him finally coming to the realization of what a serious situation he's landed himself in. It's life or death, his life isn't the only one on the line here, it's everyone around him as well. He's clearly beginning to really care about the well-being of his fellow bodyguards (mainly Pete, Arm, Pol) and Khun and Kinn.
Also, after episode 3, it was clear to me that Porsche finds Kinn physically attractive, and I do believe wanting some kind of approval from Kinn was another motivator. He's curious about Kinn, he's attracted to him, he's leaning into it.
Kinn, poor baby, is having a beautiful emotional crisis, and a lot of that I think is thanks to Mile really pouring his entire being into fleshing Kinn out and turning him into a "well" rounded person rather than the power hungry, totally domineering, bastard asshole, very surface, no depth, Kinn we have in the novel. The changes they've made to Kinn are fucking delightful, and I'm adoring the added depth and emotional vulnerability they've given him.
In the novel, Vegas sexually assaults Porsche. Without penetration, but Kinn does find him in his underwear with marks all over his body. This was one of the parts I was most worried about them adapting in the show. (I will note here, I have not read past the official translation of 1/4 of the novel--which ends with my favorite spicy scene so far and god I hope they give it to us!--the rest I have sought out from fans so it's not a complete picture). The change they made was nice (as nice as beginning to assault someone can be...), and I'm glad we didn't have to go that far. They've clearly changed Vegas a bit, though how much is yet to be seen. I'm holding my judgment for now.
Kinn's internal monologue during the drugging scene is, well, rough to say the least. But that can be said for the novel as a whole. Reading it felt like reading a fic written by a teenager from the early 00's, and not in the good way. Kinn seems like a consent King, but after telling Porsche he'd stop if Porsche told him to, he doesn't. He fucks Porsche all night long, to the point of needing to take him to the hospital the next day because he's bleeding heavily and in a lot of pain. It has its hot moments, but it's rough and gross, and I'm so glad it's been changed in the show.
What the show gave us is stunning in comparison. What the show gave us is fucking beautiful imo. Porsche, after remembering Kinn kissed him, after witnessing him with his escort, after listening to Pete, Porsche takes all of that information and once again, leans into it. He goads Kinn, he flirts with him, he asks him questions not any normal bodyguard would ask. "If your brother didn't give me up, would you even think to take me back?" Any other guard wouldn't give a shit, but Porsche needs to know. There are so many reasons this could be, but I think the main factors are a need for approval, his newfound desire to protect this family, his attraction and curiosity for Kinn, and a need to prove himself as a competent man, which he is in all rights when he puts his mind to something.
There's also something to be said about an unspoken and underlying desire to be cared for, something Porsche has never really had for most of his life. He's always been the caretaker, for Che, for his uncle even. I know y'all noticed how good he is at taking care of Tankhun? It's because he's in a familiar roll, he knows how to do this with ease. Kinn on the other hand? Someone who doesn't need coddling and caring for? He doesn't know how to handle that, but after his initial rebellion, after seeing some different sides of Kinn, he wants back in. I think, subconsciously at this point, he sees how Kinn would take care of him and he wants it.
Yes, Porsche is drugged. Yes, being under the influence makes consent iffy, but it does not mean Porsche did not give his consent or wasn't able to. Porsche may not have given verbal consent, what he did do is give consent in every other possible way, and that is what Kinn responded to. Porsche joked with Kinn about wanting to see him naked, playfully slapped his hands away, and each time Kinn respectfully pulled back. Those examples are a clear lack of consent, and Kinn responded appropriately to them. But as soon as Porsche changed gears so did Kinn, still yet with reluctance because of Porsche's state and also his brewing feelings. It wasn't one-sided, it was a push and pull on both ends.
I know there will be some who disagree with me, and that's fine. I'm pulling from my own experiences here, and what I saw in episode 4 was consensual and not rape in the slightest. I've done a lot of things in my 30+ years that I'm not proud of, certainly, but even fall-over drunk, even sky-high on drugs, I was able to give and deny consent. Was it a good idea? Of course not. Do I have regrets? Some. But being young and reckless, well, me and Porsche seem to have that in common. I mean, Porsche is in his early twenties, and my early twenties were quite literally a blur of alcohol, drugs, parties, and bad (but fun) decisions.
Porsche was high as a kite, but he was also coherent. Porsche was the one pulling Kinn in. Porsche was the one verbally and non-verbally saying yes, please, I know you want this, I want it too can't you see? Let me show you. Not to mention, no sugarcoating, having sex when you're high is fucking awesome and, frankly, I don't think this is a first for Porsche. Also, I want to mention, and this is really important, if you throw up while you're high it does sober you up a bit. It dampens the experience and brings you back into your mind. I can say this with absolute certainty, I've done it several times.
Another thing I want to point out in regard to consent is Porsche never once told Kinn no. Never once did he tell him to stop. Porsche was smiling constantly, he was taking initiative, he was undressing Kinn himself, he wanted all of what happened. Will he regret it the next day? Probably. We will have to wait and see. But bottom line, the show changed this scene for the better, a lot better.
Anyway, this was less of an analysis and more of a thought word vomit 'cause I've been wanting to talk about this scene for weeks now, and I'm also sick and tired of people saying it was rape in the tags. Kinn did not rape Porsche. Porsche gave non-verbal consent, and yes it is possible to give consent when under the influence, even if it's not a good idea. This is not the hill we need to be dying on. Let's wait for VegasPete for that, shall we?
Please, do not fucking come for me. I'm down to discuss, but I will not respond to bullshit. Thanks. ❤️
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keuncats · 2 years
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send me a 💋 for me to tell how my muse kisses yours. // a libERdade lesbiCa
🏳️‍🌈  HAPPY PRIDE MONTH 🏳️‍🌈
kuen is a very articulate person so isn't a surprise to know that when she kisses her wife its with the porpuse to awake every type of desires that anna has. they are passionate, hot and wet. every time they kiss she likes to show why kuen was and it always would be the woman of her dreams, her muse. she absolute  loves teasing anna, she uses her hands to touch every part of her body, but there are times though that kuen lets anna take the lead when kissing because as much she likes to show that she owns the other, she also wants for to know that her body and soul are meant for her,  to know how much are the desires anna has and that is one of that times that she has the time to proof her. and that yearning kuen has for her wife get stronger when she can have anna around when she has to work overseas, when the other became busy with her own work and now more than ever so everytime they get a chance to be together kuen doesn't have anything more in mind than love anna. she plans about what date they could have, a surprise she would make for her, the height difference they have and how she loves moving her mouth to kiss her neck and leave that head over heals effect she would give and she gets so excited just daydream about it.
i know for a fact that kim yura wonders why the fuck took her so long to know she liked women and why she never met chiyo earlier when they kissed. the way that she kisses her is so groundbreaking, its like there is nothing in the world that could even compare to the way that chiyo taste. i know this sound irrealistic somehow but its the way that i can picture it, every kiss she ever gave to the other was to show that there is no better feeling than being with the person who makes your life better. and every kiss she gave she end them with a smile on her face and caressing the other skin. she also says 'i love you' between them because if you think about it in this thread that they are the only couple that experienced living in a prejudiced society when even if it seem that the world was changing there were still people who think how much they were wrong for being with each, how shameful they should feel for having those feelings so for chiyo it was a must for her to show how much she cared about her, to make her feel save and loved, showing how there no better person for her than yura.
hailey kisses seulgi to assure her of how much she loves her. they are gentle and she takes time with them, they rarely intensify to lead to something else because when they make out hailey prefers much more to spend her time memorizing every detail of her girlfriend's face, doing whatever they would do and kiss every corner she could than that act of sex itself, which is not a bad thing because she saves those eager type kisses for specials moments, the one when she realizes how incredible the other one is that her heart is aching too hard for her to try not be all over the other. hailey had been with so many people but she probably never truly enjoyed or feel atract to them as as she does with seulgi, she always gets breathless when their lips meet each other it is such a amazing experience that being with seulgi became something very scared to her. and for obvious reasons, she doesn't show affection much on public occasions unless are kisses on the girl's shoulder, the palm of her hand and especially in her ear after asking her to go somewhere else. she just loves kissing seulgi when it feels like they are the only two people in the world, without any distractions and opinions about it.
sunny kisses are very confident, she knew she was an into girls since she was a little kid and i might never talk about it but its an understatement that she got girls more than noah could ever dream of (i do like to believe there was one of noah's girlfriend that felt more attracted to sunny than her brother). and a thing that i believe is one of evie's favorite thing about her girlfriend is that sunny is so mysterious that she never knew what was really coming when they got together. they lips seem very in sync with each other, they have a lot of fights in them to know who is going to give up in and let the other being in control, and the times when sunny wins they are very wild, her hands finds their way into her clothes very quickly. evie had this power over sunny than the she doesn't even know how to contetualixed but she was the only person that sunny never got tired of. she didn't half of the time how to date a celebrity, she let evie be free and always let her door open for to come to her to come around and be with her and the best thing was that the other seem to have fall in love with her too that sunny doesn't waste a second of the kisses that she wants to give. you sort of understand why evie went missing during her group hiatus.
brittany had this huge crush on millie for so long that when she finally noticed her, her brain quite comprehend very well. millie gets to be over her a lot of times and it does times britanny's body can only shiver with her touch, let herself feel the girl in her mouth, and crave for more. she lets little moans shake when they kiss and she loves putting her hand over her neck. different from a lot of my muses, brit is very submissive so i only can say how much she gives of herself in those kisses. although, i can sense that she can been a jealously person, and they are could be times when she would surprise millie in giving one of the best kissed she ever had just to prove to her (and to herself) that she is the only person who millie shall be with, and this made lead to a probably fact that they made out a lot on public and dispatch has pictures of them (just an idea idk)
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tallbluelady · 1 year
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5 for the song/fic game!
youtube
(Vittorio E. - Spoon, Rowan Playlist)
There was something different to Minthe lately. It was new, it was fresh. Emet-Selch could feel it. He could hear it, actually. She was humming.
Minthe rarely did anything musical. It was a tragedy, really. Emet-Selch had told her on more than one occasion that she had one of the more lovely voices on the Star, she even could be a world class musician if she ever practiced…
But that was the rub, she never did practice. Her noodling on her little plants did give her more control over her magic, but they were always unfocused experiments that she did for the novelty of it. And mayhap this bout of humming was similar. Just her enjoying it.
“You know, for someone so burdened with responsibility, you seem to be enjoying your time spent here,” Emet-Selch said.
Minthe stopped humming and looked up. “There’s a big difference between a responsibility hoisted upon you and a responsibility you elect to pick up yourself, oh holder of the Third Seat.”
“As I recall I had to hoist the responsibility of caring for Daedalus upon you.”
She sighed and dusted her hands off. “Yes, well…” Minthe turned to watch the man, who was handing out palm sized toys to the children gathered around him. “I could have stopped at finding the triggers for his attacks. Or finding the right scents for him. But I’m choosing to stay with him.”
“Minthe, that sounds almost as if you’re choosing to be with him romantically,” Emet-Selch said, a chuckle rising up.
Minthe just looked down and rubbed the hem of her sleeve.
“Are you?” Emet-Selch asked, dropping his voice. “It won’t be a simple life with him. You’re not wont to do things without a proper draw.”
She shrugged. “He makes me laugh.”
“Minthe, I can see that you enjoy his company, even find him attractive, but… he’s delicate. His aether is diminished. If I can see that, surely you can. He’s going to need constant care, and you -”
“Hades.” Her eyes blazed bright at him. “I am choosing him. This life with him. I know it’s going to be hard at times. But it’s like you said when you took up the Seat of Emet-Selch; it’s fulfilling.”
Emet-Selch couldn’t find any words to dispute her.
She sighed. “I finally find something to be responsible for and you don’t have anything positive to say for it?”
Hades shook his head and smiled. “I’m finding I lack the vocabulary to express how proud of you I truly am.”
Minthe smiled back, then turned as Daedalus called to her.
Thanks for the prompt!
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loveislarryislove · 2 years
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hi, can you explain how someone can be ace and demi at the same time?
This is a neat question! I can think of a few different possible answers to this, depending on the person:
For one option, "ace" is often used as an umbrella term, and can encompass the whole asexual spectrum -- demisexuality, gray-asexuality, cupiosexuality, lithosexuality, fraysexuality, and more. It doesn't only have to refer to "fully 100% never ever experiences sexual attraction asexual" -- someone is more than welcome to call themselves ace if they experience sexual attraction rarely or only in specific circumstances, as compared to the societally expected "norms" of allosexuality. This is like how "gay" is often used for any same-sex attraction or relationship or issue -- I say "I'm so gay" when I see a pretty lady on TV, even though I technically identify as panromantic. Or "gay marriage" or "gay rights" are terms used for issues that also affect people who are bi, pan, omni, etc.
Another option is that the "demi" part might be referring to demiromanticism rather than demisexuality -- that's how I personally identify! I am asexual and never experience sexual attraction, but I do experience romantic attraction on occasion, if I have a strong emotional bond with the person. I've only had a handful of crushes in my life, and often go years between serious romantic interests, but they do happen.
A third possibility is that someone might change their labels over time. When I was first learning about asexuality and the asexual spectrum as a teen, I didn't have a full understanding of the distinction between romantic and sexual attraction, or between sexual attraction and sexual action. I was open to having sex, even if I didn't really understand the appeal, and I knew that I had crushes, so I settled on the term demisexuality as a space between the level of attraction that my classmates seemed to be feeling, and the complete lack of any kind of attraction or sexual interest that I thought asexuality was. Over time, I learned more about these terms and about myself, and determined that I was in fact fully asexual, regardless of whether I experience romantic attraction or engage in sexual activity.
And finally, I am a firm believer that people have the right to label themselves however feels most true to them, and they are inherently right by virtue of their identity being theirs. If someone says they're ace and demi, and those labels feel good and right and true to them and help them feel real and valid -- I'm not going to tell them they're not. I'm just going to be glad they found a word that makes them feel whole and a community that makes them feel accepted.
Thanks for your question and for giving me an opportunity to soapbox a little haha, hope this helps! I'm always happy to chat about my experiences with asexuality and the perspectives and community and self-love that I've developed through those experiences :)
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secretsappyabode · 2 years
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HOWDY TIFF AHHHHH thank you so much for your sweet words on my Bond x Sunny art I'm so glad it gave off the vibes I was trying to instill✨🧡;-----;
I wanted to come ask, do your s/i go with Stan and the kids for that roadside attractions tour 👀?? Does she give Dipper girl advice 🥺?
Sunny
@tex-treasures
YOURE VERY WELCOME SUNNY!!!!!
OH MAN i didn’t even think abt that episode lmaooo. Honestly….i don’t think she would?? but then again there’s rarely a chance she’s miss out on a road trip so maybe she does? for now let’s just say she doesn’t. cuz if she were there the entire sub plot w stan and dipper would NEVER HAPPEN DJDJJDJSNSJS she hears Stan’s bad advice and immediately steps in like UM NO WAIT HOLD ON.
ok to be fair not ALL of his advice was bad imo, he essentially taught dipper how to have confidence, which is important! but the part that irks me is the whole “nah don’t contact her, now continue talking to other girls as practise” like……stan plz he can’t just take girls numbers willy nilly, thinking they’ll get a call back when they won’t 😭 IDK ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE SEEN THE EPISODE SO I MAY BE MISSING SOME DETAILS
as for advice……i genuinely have no clue other than “just go for it! it’s worth a try! if rejection happens that’s ok, it happens sometimes. don’t let that get u down” honestly tho i am NOT the best w advice cuz….imo stuff like that is a case by case situation. some methods of asking ppl out might work of different occasions and w diff people, so can I rly be one to say that I can give sagely advice? if romance happens, it happens on its own! if it doesn’t, that’s fine too. phhtt I feel like I’m overthinking things here, so yknow what, my s/i is the same, she’d have no fuckin clue what to tell dipper if he ever asked her for advice MSJXJSNJZJS she cld tell stories abt her and the stans! but that’s her ONLY experience w romance and even THEN it’s……..a unique thing of its own
dipper/mabel: hey grauntie tiff how do i ask ppl out
my s/i: (spent years in a mutual pining fic with two twins individually who are also emotionally stunted in someway so there was literally no forwardness from anyone, not to mention that the ONLY WAY she can connect w someone in “that special way” is to essentially traumabond and live life with them to see their best and worst qualities and become so familiar with them they’re literally a part of you now. also she’s asexual)
my s/i:
my s/i: idk i never did it
MDJDJDNSJJS HONESTLY SHED JUST BE EVEN MORE OF AN OVERTHINKING MESS IN THAT EPISODE SO LETS JUST SAY SHE STAYS HOME TO SPEND SOME TIME WITH FORD CUZ ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IT WAS JUST THE TWO OF THEM and despite the foreboding apocalypse and the bill cipher threat they missed each other so much 🥺 now they can be two old farts enjoying some peace together
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superblycaffeinated · 2 months
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Find the list of March Prompts I’m participating in here - I hope you join in! I love seeing all the different stories people come up with from the same words  This is a very loose depiction of righteousness - I went with the definition: "Righteousness is a feeling or way of life that is all about doing the right thing." This contains spoilers for the fanfiction series The Listen Series by @averagejoesolomon
Morgan Goode / Luke Collins
Luke Collins is infuriating was not a new thought for my brain to stumble over, but a rare occurrence these days. 
Kind? Yes. Attentive? You bet. Patient? Undeniably. Slight tendency to hover and helicopter on occasion? Annoyingly so lately. 
But infuriating? I hadn’t needed to use that word until right now. 
“Morgan, no.”
No. 
No is not really a term in my vocabulary, it never has been, and if it’s told to me, it’s not something I listen to often. Especially when accompanied with my name like that, like he’s scolding, like he can’t believe I’d be so stupid like-
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Nope,” I popped the ‘p’ as I continued to tape my hands. 
Sometimes, I was still a little shocked to look down and see the scars, flexing a stiff hand and watching how they caught the light on more than a few occasions. To suddenly tune in to how different my two legs felt from one another. 
I wouldn’t say I admired my scars, or found beauty in them usually (unless Luke was kissing them and whispering things he loved about me against my skin, but that’s a different story). But when I stretched out my arms and saw the swirling pattern extend up both forearms, I did draw some sort of courage from them, I think.
Not fueled by spite, or anger, or hate, though those were easy to fall into from time to time - easier not to with each passing day - but from peace, from clarity, from trusting my gut that I had done the right thing two years ago. 
“I’m not doing this,” Luke exhaled in a tone riddled with finality, one with zero room for argument. 
It was a nicely delivered command, strong, confident, and anybody in their right mind would have heard it, looked at the strong set of his jaw, his squared off shoulders, his arms crossed over his chest, and accepted defeat and walked away. 
But see, I’m not normally in my “right” mind, and I knew what others didn’t - that when it comes to me and Luke Collins, there was always room for an argument. 
“Oh,” I laughed, squinting up at him in the harsh noon light, “I get it. You’re afraid to lose to a girl.”
Luke’s temple pulsed, that familiar crease furrowing his forehead as he tried to continue to be three steps ahead, to figure out where I was planning to take this. 
A horse snorted in the pasture to our left, a chip crunched between teeth up on the porch to our right, a breeze carried a faint melody in the air, and Luke’s heartbeat thudded calmly despite the tension he carried in his body. 
“When have I ever been afraid to lose to a girl, Morgan?” Luke gritted out, taking the bait easily, taking a step closer. 
“Can think of at least one time you were worried about losing to a whole team of them,” I cracked my neck as I cocked an eyebrow at him, “Broke your nose about it.”
He huffed a breath out of that crooked nose as he narrowed his eyes at me in an old, familiar, challenging way. 
We weren’t the same kids who fought because we had to. 
I had new pain and trauma, new experience, new weaknesses and strengths. I had new patience and drive and passion for the work I was born to do. He had scruff on his jaw, and new muscles in his arms, new scars, new stories, a new (and entirely too attractive) confidence and determination at work, new, bold and unapologetic public displays of affection towards me.  
But apparently also a newfound moral dilemma about fighting me. 
In the two years since I’d woken up in that overnight room in the hospital wing at Gallagher, Luke Collins had refused to throw a punch my way. 
I hadn’t noticed at first, because I was so focused on learning how my new body would and could work. I was determined and hellbent on getting better, one step at a time. So caught up in the feeling of finally being able to hit and kick and fight, that I hadn’t noticed that every time we sparred, Luke was back to his tried and true defensive approach when it came to me. 
“It’s okay, Collins,” I let his last name hang in the space between us, poking, prodding, baiting, “Should have just realized you were a chicken.”
He rolled his eyes, and scoffed out a cold laugh, “I’m not a chicken.”
Too easy. 
“Asking for a fight,” I pointed to myself, then him as I called out louder, “Doesn’t want to fight me. If it acts like a chicken, and sounds like a chicken…” I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Twitters from our audience had a smirk pulling at my lips. 
Luke took another step towards me, shaking his head once, then twice. Slow and determined, just like his breath. 
“Nice try, I’m not five years old Goode.”
I threw my arm out towards the porch, my voice growing louder, “Charlotte has hit me. Several times.”
“Morgan, I’m not-”
“Jasons, has hit me, Jasons!” I exclaimed, excitement pulsed through me as his foot shifted, as his arm twitched. 
“Stop-”
“My dad has hit me!”
Our chests heaved in sync, in anticipation as his gaze dotted over my face. I heard his swallow, I heard his inhale, I heard the gravel beneath his toe, and I heard the lack of breath from everyone watching. 
“I know you have this moral code, some righteous compass you have to follow, but I need you to punch me. And I need you to fucking mean it.”
“Morgan,” his voice came out strained, like he was fighting every instinct in his body, “Stop. Talking.”
A familiar heat licked up my spine, it pricked at something on the back of my neck, it sent electric charges down my arms and into my fingertips. 
For the first time in a long time, I felt excited about punching something. Someone. 
I exhaled, I lifted my jaw in defiance, and I let a breath carry the dare past my lips. 
“Make me.”
The sound of my hand catching his fist before it hit my jaw was only slightly muffled by the cheering and whistling from our right. 
And if I ended up with a punch to the gut because I was too distracted by Luke’s smile at the sound of Scout Jasons yelling at my brother that he owed him twenty bucks, then so be it. 
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fozmeadows · 3 years
Text
race & culture in fandom
For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.
Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.
All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.
Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?
Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.
The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.
Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.
Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.
An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.
But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.
Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.  
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fernweh-writes · 3 years
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hiya! can you do HCs for the slashers with a male s/o? i usually always see them geared towards women so itd be fun to switch it up! (it could be their first m/m relationship or not, doesnt matter!)
Of course hun! Usually I try to keep my writing pretty gender neutral and as inclusive as possible. Hope you enjoy! Also I’m trying to get better with adding warnings… it’s a work in progress
Slashers x Male S/O
Warning: slight nsfw content in all of these and it’s slashers so mentions of murder, kidnapping, etc
Michael Meyers
Michael isn’t good with feelings, usually his feelings towards others are anything but positive, he’s sure of that. But something about you was different, he wasn’t a fan of the feeling honestly. But Michael is a curious person, so he ends up stalking you for a decent amount of time. Eventually, he’s able to predict your every move, he knows your schedule, has figured out all your favorite things. He knows everything about you.
Michael eventually comes to terms with the fact he has a crush on you. After stalking you for some time, he was able to figure out the feeling. But at first he was honestly contemplating making you his next victim just so the feeling would go away. Now he recognizes it as a good feeling though, he needs to keep you and make you his.
His go to is knocking you out on your way home from work one evening. When you wake up you’re arms are tied to the bed, but he was kind enough to leave your feet unrestrained. At first, he just stares at you, unsure of what to do now that he has you. His favorite thing is watching you while you sleep, you just look so content and happy.
Eventually, Michael lets you wander around the house. He knows you can’t leave him, he’ll simply find you again. After all, he’s stalked you for so long he would be able to find you easily. Even if you do alert the cops it’s not like it’s his first time dealing with them. It’s best if you don’t run away, he isn’t against teaching you not to leave him again if you try.
If you make attempts to be kind to him he absolutely adores it! Massaging his shoulders, rubbing patterns across his skin, baking and cooking for him are all gestures that he loves. But, it also proves to him that you care which makes him more possessive over you.
Speaking of possessive, Michael also has the strong urge to always prove to you that he’s the dominant one. He both needs and craves control and feels the need to prove that he’s bigger and stronger than you are. Expect some rough treatment from time to time, he likes to remind you of your place.
He’s a virgin and the only knowledge he really has about sex comes from what he’s caught his victims doing. While he does do a lot of stalking, he really hasn’t learned much. Besides, most of what he’s seen has been between girls and guys, very rarely has it been anything else. But once you show him? He’s insatiable. While he’s never thought much about his sexual desires before, you’ve completely changed that. You can expect him to be pressing against your ass at any time of the day.
Loves joining you in the shower. One, it’s just an easy way for him to see you naked. Two, he usually gets you to wash his hair and all for him and he loves the feeling. You running your hands all over his body to bathe him leads to three, he usually forces you to your knees and gets you to wrap those pretty lips around him. Loves the sight of you looking up at him with water on you eyelashes and lust in your eyes. Some times you’re gonna need a second shower.
Bo Sinclair
Bo is the one most likely to deny to himself that he finds you attractive. He grew up in the Deep South with a religious family in a religious town. Anything that isn’t between a guy and a girl was always frowned upon so it takes him a minute to come to terms with his feelings.
Once he does expect him to be a big flirt. Turns out, Bo can smooth talk guys and girls all the same. It’s easy for him though considering that there’s so much about you he likes that he never seems to run out of compliments. Quickly decides that he loves the sight of you blushing and flustered by the things he says.
Once again, feels the need to prove that he’s the dominant one. Bo has never given up control to anyone, you’re not going to be any different. Often makes a show of his strength to prove he’s stronger than you. Bo also just loves to manhandle you in general, especially during sex. You just look so cute when you get all flustered about him moving you around like you weigh nothing.
Lots of ass grabbing and lewd comments once he gets comfortable with you. He’s a major pervert, so expect him to be handsy with you all of the time.
Eventually gets to the point where he likes to flaunt you. You spend a lot of time with him down at the station and he occasionally gives you small, easy chores to do, but mostly he keeps you there to chat with and keep him company. This also means that you see a lot more of the victims than you might like to and Bo isn’t afraid to let them know the two of you are together. If anyone says anything rude to you then he makes sure they get turned to wax a lot faster than he normally would. If he deems the comment to offensive then there wont be much left of them to make into wax, sorry Vincent.
Bo likes to make you believe that he would never let you top him. But if your able to hold out long enough, you can make him so needy for you that he’ll relent and allow it, but only just the once. Okay, maybe more than once but it’s still a rare occasion. He still won’t let anyone believe that he would ever bottom though. Like I said before, Bo needs to feel in control and that extends to being in control of you as well.
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent wasn’t as well versed in relationships as Bo or even Lester. While he would know that he’s attracted to guys, he wouldn’t have much experience at all. He would be very surprised if you showed any interest in him at all honestly, but when you do he knows he has to keep you.
He’s very shy and nervous at first. You’re most likely the first person he’s ever had a romantic relationship with so he’s very unsure of what to do at first. It’ll take a lot of reassurance from you to get him to open up to you and even longer for him to feel confident around you. Since he doesn’t talk and is pretty socially awkward, you can expect small gifts to be his go to way of wooing you. Like a penguin giving you pebbles, he is a large man bringing you wax figures.
Vincent would definitely play a big care taker role honestly. He’s both your protector and your provider. You depend upon him to survive in Ambrose and he enjoys feeling in control for once. Vincent does a good job of making sure you’re taken care of as well. Always makes sure that you eat until your full, gives you only the best of clothes from victims suitcases, and you get first pick of the items left behind by the victims.
Likes keeping you close by. Not down in his workshop of course, he doesn’t want you to see him as a monster and witness the cruel things he does. Besides, he sees you as to precious, to pure and innocent to be able to handle witnessing such things. Of course, you’re aware of the wax figures, but you’re not aware of how they’re made and he wants to keep it that way.
Vincent prefers to have you tied up beneath him with your cheeks flushed and skin covered in sweat. Also thinks your skin looks great when it’s covered in wax. Also loves the way you look so needy for him to give you some sort of relief with your pupils blown wide, lips parted, as your hips attempt buck against his.
However, Vincent does occasionally enjoy letting you take the ropes. This usually happens when he’s stressed out and has to much on his mind. Being able to let go and let you be in charge of his pleasure gives him the freedom and comfort that he needs.
Brahms Heelshire
His parents would be surprised at him requesting a male nanny but so many women had failed that he was curious to try something else. When you came along, he decided that you were perfect for him!
Unlike most of the other slashers, Brahms is more than okay with you topping him, He secretly enjoys being forced into submission and only occasionally likes to take up the dominant role in the bedroom. Goes absolutely feral for the way you discipline him and get him to submit and be good, especially since you never fail to tell him what a good boy he is and how much you enjoy him being well behaved just for you.
At the start though, he simply watches you through the walls. Especially enjoys watching you while you’re in your room or taking a shower. He’s a dirty little wall pervert what do you expect. Once he watches you jerk off for the first time, he quickly decides that he’s 100% attracted to you. Like I said, he’s a dirty wall man.
Enjoys that you still follow the schedule and do such a good job of filling the domestic roles he craves. You provide him with more structure and stability than anyone else previously had. You’re not scared to discipline him when he steps out of line and you do such a good job of taking care of him. Especially loves when you indulge him and spoil him, it drives him crazy.
He’s needy and clingy and loves to cuddle up to you. Brahms is practically glued to your hip 24/7, following you around the mansion like a lost puppy. He’s lucky you find him cute otherwise you would grow annoyed with him quite easily. He enjoys laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat, it’s really soothing to him.
Please read to him while he cuddles up against you. It’s his favorite thing ever, especially if you give him attention while you do so like playing with his hair or simply running your free hand up and down his back soothingly.
Will purposefully find ways to get dirty so that you have to bathe him. Refuses to get into the tub or shower unless you join him. Really just wants to be pressed up against the shower wall and fucked. If he needs an excuse to see you naked, he’ll steal your clothes and hide them. Then he watches from the walls as you have to go up to your room to get more clothes. The clothes he stole will remain in his room within the walls to curl up with whenever he pleases.
Billy Loomis and Stu Macher
Honestly these two would compete over you. Might even have a bet over who can woo you first. They get jealous of the other very easily.
Billy is intimidating and plenty of people are scared of him, for good reason of course. So with him you don’t really have to worry about anyone being rude or saying anything offensive. If they do then you’ll see them on the news within the next few days. If you mention it to Billy he basically says “wow, that’s unfortunate, whatever will the world do without them.”
Stu is more likely to get physical with the person as soon as anything offensive leaves their mouth. Usually he’s less affected than Billy but he’s just so protective over you that he can’t manage to keep his cool. Sadly this means he can’t kill the person since he would be more likely to be a suspect after a physical altercation like that. They’ll still have a broken nose.
Billy is more likely to be a top, Stu is more likely to bottom but he is a switch so he likes to top occasionally to. Billy is also more rough with you in bed and enjoys running the blade of his knife across your skin while he has his other hand wrapped tightly around your throat. He degrades you while he fucks you, even the praise is degrading, telling you how good you look getting fucked like the slut you are. Stu is a lot sweeter and needier when it comes to sex. He likes to praise and compliment you, telling you how good you make him feel and how good you look just for him.
Both of them are very proud of you. They aren’t afraid to show you off or be seen with you. We all know that Stu is handsy but Billy isn’t afraid to sweet talk you in front of anyone and everyone. Claims he’s classier than Stu for not basically shoving his hand down your pants in public like he hasn’t grinded against you multiple times already. He’s just more discreet about being handsy in public.
Jesse Cromeans
You get to live lavishly with Jesse, that’s for sure. He makes sure to absolutely spoil you, anything you want is yours. The movies confirmed multiple times that he’s rich and it turns out when it comes to you, Jesse is very generous with his money.
Although, he does love choosing what you wear. Of course all of the clothes in your large closet are designer, he can’t have his boyfriend looking poor. Jesse prefers to dress you up in expensive dress shirts, slacks, and ties, something about it just gets him going. Some times he’ll allow you to wear sweatpants or whatever comfy clothes you want but it’s still going to be name brand stuff.
Also likes to shower with you. Picks out expensive and high end products so that you always smell good. Of course Jesse always smells good, his favorite colognes are never less than $100 for even a small bottle. Sometimes when he comes home late at night and crawls into bed next to you, you can still smell the slight metallic scent of blood on him. It’s usually hard to notice though since the sheets smell strongly of him that it can mask it.
He’s perverted and loves to show you off. Once you find out what he does, he won’t hesitate to take you with him on his “business trips” to different warehouses. Jesse keeps you safely tucked away in his office though, he can’t risk putting you in harms way and certainly doesn’t want you to witness the carnage. Prefers you to sit in his lap during meetings and he isn’t afraid to feel you up during them either.
If he ever gets you to blow him under his desk one day don’t expect him to let you stop just because Spann or Preston walks in. Jesse won’t hesitate to force your head back down if you try and pull away. In fact, having you choke on his cock while someone else in the room does nothing but make him feel even more aroused. Luckily for you, it’ll definitely deter Spann from trying to make any more moves on your boyfriend.
Asa Emory
Asa is a sadist and he absolutely loves to see you squirm. You can expect constant teasing and degrading from him at all times, very rarely does he compliment you. When he does compliment you though, just know he truly means them. Asa doesn’t really do feelings, his best way of showing he cares for you is by keeping you locked in his home rather than in his demented hotel.
Honestly, he probably does his best to keep you from knowing about the extent of his nightly activities. Of course you know about the hotel, you spent a few months there. You also know Asa is sadistic and enjoys hurting other people, even you that he cares so much about. But your stay at the hotel was luxurious compared to what happens to the other people in there. And while he inflicted some pain and left small cuts on you with his knife, it was nothing compared to the way he tortured the other people.
Again, Asa needs control and enjoys being in charge of everything you do. He picks out your clothes, plans out your day for you, he’s into the whole dumbification thing. You have a list of responsibilities like cooking for him and keeping the already neat house clean and tidy. Your not just his boyfriend, you’re his pet. Anything he instructs you to do, you do, otherwise you’ll be punished.
Makes sure you have your own guard dog. He hates having to leave you alone and so he leaves his best trained German Shepherd with you to keep you safe. But on the bright side at least you have well trained company that also happens to be very cuddly and friendly with you. Just don’t let Asa know you let the dog on the couch…
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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years
Text
Obedient (Rewritten)
Soft! Yandere! Erasermic x Chubby! Fem! Reader
***18+ Fic***
You must be 18 years old or older to participate in this reading. If you are not, please remove yourself from the line and find another piece. Thank you.
Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied drugging, kidnapping, reader is way too fucking calm with the situation, Stockholm Syndrome, BDSM themes, a collar, body worship, the word Daddy once, smut, double penetration (diff. holes), anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.
Word Count: 6.6 k
Author's Note: Alright. I've been wanting to rewrite this for a while now. Obedient was the very first fic I'd ever written and posted back in September, and my writing has changed A LOT since then. Reading the original, I realized there's a lot that I can change and tweak, and a lot that wasn't very clearly or well written (in my opinion). So, here it is!
You can find the original here.
Enjoy~
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“Happy birthday to me.” The words tumble loosely from your lips on a heaved breath, your fingers curled lazily around a cold glass of whiskey.
It isn’t a rare occurrence to see you perched atop a stool at the edge of the bar, nursing your third glass at 2am on a Friday night. Or rather Saturday morning. It’s one of the only places you can find solace, away from nosy coworkers and nosier acquaintances. The loneliness is soberingly blissful. You never cared much for social interaction.
At this point the bar is emptying, only a handful of bodies sticking around in the early hours. In the reflections of the rows of glass liquor bottles you see them again. Two lanky figures sitting in the corner booth at the back of the establishment. Any normal person would see them and think nothing. But you know better. When you first walked into the bar six months ago they were in that exact spot, and every time afterward they’d be there when you walked in and stayed after you left.
You, being observant as you are, always watched everything from your spot at the bar, the slightly warped images in the glass serving as your eyes for the night. It didn’t take long for you to figure the two were watching you every time you stepped inside. The blonde one always sat with his back to you, and his head would occasionally turn in the reflection. You’d alternate seats to make sure you weren’t imagining things, but it only confirmed what you’d suspected.
Not that you cared enough to do anything about it.
As long as they keep their distance you’re perfectly content letting them look. And they did keep their distance. They’d never even come within 5 feet of you, seemingly happy with just lingering glances. Of course, tonight would be a different story.
You watch as their glassy reflections stand up, the distance between you and them shrinking with each of their long strides. You let your eyes fall to the amber liquid in your hands, praying they’d only pass you by on their way out. Two sets of footsteps approached, two bodies popped up on either side of you, and a deep, silky smooth voice sounded on your right.
“Mind if we take a seat?” A glance to your right revealed a rugged, yet handsome man peering down at you with his deep, tired onyx eyes. Long raven hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw peppered with barely tamed scruff and a scar curved along his cheekbone. You turn to look at his friend, long blonde hair pulled up into a high bun and hypnotic green eyes focused on you behind orange tinted sunglasses despite being indoors past midnight. He is handsome as well, a small mustache on his smiling lips, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline drawing you in.
You couldn’t help but feel they look familiar, somehow. You’d seen their faces before, somewhere, but you pushed that to the back of your mind for now.
It wouldn’t hurt to let them sit with you, right? They seem friendly enough, and it’s better to entertain them in case things go south should you reject their request. With a small, tired smile, you nod.
“Sure thing, fellas.” They both plop down on either side of you and the blonde immediately gets talking.
“So what’s the occasion, little listener?” Two thoughts came to mind. One, how did he know there was any occasion, two, what kind of pet name is ‘little listener’? Your confusion must have shown on your face, because the raven haired man spoke up.
“You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar, kitten.” Ah. So they had been watching you. You aren’t wearing anything that would normally be considered ‘dolled up’. Your tan sweater and black skirt are relatively plain, and the platform boots you’re wearing accompanied by your thigh-high socks are something you’re experimenting with.
But usually you entered the bar with a white button-up and black slacks from your job as a waitress. Today you had time to go home and pamper yourself a bit before heading to your usual drinking spot. Evidently, they noticed. You bring your glass up to your lips and gulp down the remaining liquid before entertaining the question.
“Nothing special. Call it a birthday party.” And hey, you mean it when you say it isn’t special. Your birthday only marks yet another routine year on this earth. The blonde nudges your shoulder with his own.
“I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” The alcohol must be affecting you, because you chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.
“Just another year gone by, you know?” You’re never this talkative sober. The man on your right rapped his knuckles on the bartop, the barkeep making his way over with a tired smile.
“One more glass for this pretty kitty here.” The name had your eyebrows raising.
“This one’s on me.” As the fresh glass was sat on the bartop you scoffed quietly.
“Kitty?” A deep hum came from the man.
“Well how would you describe yourself, kitten?” Somewhere in your muddled brain you warned yourself not to be self-deprecating on your 25th birthday. You didn’t listen.
“Definitely not feline. I’m short and chunky and the only thing cat-like about me is my posture and eyeliner,” you stated, matter-of-factly. As a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant, you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised. A hum comes from the blonde, a muttered ‘pretty and humble’ floating on his breath. You force a chuckle at the statement.
“Pretty is also a word I wouldn’t use to describe myself.” A short silence falls between the three of you, and you take the time to study their faces. Where had you seen them before? You’re certain if you’d met them before you’d remember them, you don’t tend to forget attractive people.
They’re oddly patient as they watch the cogs in your brain turn, your eyes taking in every detail of every feature. Your breath caught and your eyes went wide when you’d finally placed their faces.
“Present Mic and Eraserhead. You’re pro heroes.” The words are quiet, nearly imperceptible as you breathe them, but they’re close enough to hear. Present Mic beams at the recognition.
“In the flesh, sunshine. But we’d prefer you use our names.” Eraserhead leans away and sticks a hand out for a handshake.
“Shouta Aizawa.” You shake his hand and turn to the blonde, who similarly has his hand held out.
“Hizashi Yamada.” You introduce yourself, a bit shaky and only slightly starstruck. What in the world are two pro heroes doing talking to you? As you regain your composure you excuse yourself to the restroom. You weren’t prepared to talk to heroes tonight. A glance in the mirror has you sobering yourself, rationalizing their strange behavior. These two are pro heroes. They were clearly only worried about your safety, a woman all alone in a bar till the earliest hours of the morning. ‘That’s why they were watching me’, you muse. You quickly fix yourself, then step back out to the two heroes.
The three of you pass another hour of time before you decide it’s time for you to head home. They offer to give you a lift, but you politely decline. You can't intrude on them any more than you already had. Hizashi insists otherwise.
“Please Sunshine? If something were to happen to you we’d never forgive ourselves!” It made sense to you. They’re pro heroes after all, it’s in their nature to worry. So you oblige to ease their anxieties.
Since Shouta hadn’t touched any alcohol, he’s driving, and you punch your address into the GPS system of their very expensive looking car. As you sit back, Hizashi holds a bottle over his head.
“Water?” You thank him and drain the bottle, realizing you’re a bit more dehydrated than you initially thought. In your semi-drunk haze you fail to notice that the bottle had already been opened, and you miss Shouta’s eyes watching you down the beverage through the rearview mirror.
It’s only five minutes later you feel drowsy, your head lolling to the side and eyelids drooping. You don’t quite register the question Hizashi asks you, and when you don’t answer he turns around to look at you.
“You seem tired, Sunshine. Take a nap, we’ll wake you up when we get there.” Your exhaustion takes hold over any rational thoughts, and with a sleepy nod, you stretch out over the backseat and let your mind slip into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware you’ll never see your apartment again.
The first thing you notice as you wake up is how stiff and sore your muscles are. It takes you a moment to realize you aren’t in your clothes from last night, nor are you in your own bed. Your eyes snap open and you sit up, taking in the unfamiliar room. With a curse under your breath you scour your memory for anything, checking if you’d gone home with anyone or gotten yourself in a tight situation. The last thing you remember is being driven home by the two pros, then passing out in their backseat.
Questions began forming in your mind. ‘Where am I? How did I get here? Where had the two heroes gone?’ In an attempt to think clearer, you try crossing your legs, but your ankle is stopped short by something heavy. Throwing off the blanket, a thick metal cuff glinted in the light of the room, an equally thick chain leading somewhere over the side of the bed.
When your breathing begins to quicken, you settle your mind, refusing to panic. Willing yourself to relax, you begin to think about how you can get out of this situation. ‘Today should be Saturday. Assuming this room is part of a house, someone would most likely still be here’. With a small breath, you speak, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear you.
“H-hello? Is someone there?” It only takes a few seconds for footsteps to reach your ears, and the door opens to the last person you’re expecting to see. A ruggedly handsome Shouta Aizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smirk on his lips.
“Good morning, Kitty.” As endearing as the pet name is, the only emotion you feel right now is confusion. Your mind is drifting to all the fanfiction you’d read online, piecing together the events of last night like a puzzle. ‘The bottle of water was already open’. In your defense, they’re pro heroes, it’s only natural for you-- or anyone, really-- to let your guard down. A large hand on your shoulder jolts you back to reality, your eyes wide as you stare up at Shouta like a deer in headlights.
“You okay Kitten?” All you can manage as you settle your thoughts is to blink up at the man, swallowing down the lump in your throat before letting out a shaky breath.
“Let me guess. I’m home now, aren’t I?” The man stares back down at you with subtly raised eyebrows before chuckling softly.
“That’s not the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you.” He leaves you to your thoughts and your mind begins reeling once again. You understand this is wrong, that you shouldn’t be so willing, so obedient. You also know how boring your life has been up until now. How mundane and lonely you’d been for as long as you can remember.
You’d cut ties with your family long ago, and ‘friend’ is a very loose term. Most of the people you called friends are acquaintances at best, your antisociality and trust issues meant ‘making friends’ is not on your life agenda. Somehow you knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. You longed to give up control, to let someone else string you along and take the reins and let you relax, not have to worry about anything anymore. That side of you tended to make itself known through your explorative late teen years.
You’d had romantic partners before, though once anything intimate came up they all refused to associate with you anymore. They couldn’t understand your want to give up control, your need to submit. They refused to collar you ‘like an animal’. None of your partners ever understood the weight behind such a garment. This may be your chance at the relationship you’d always craved, regardless of its twisted nature.
Then there’s the logical side, the chances of you actually escaping. As a quirkless human in the presence of two trained pro heroes (assuming Hizashi is also in on this), the likelihood of you making it out is slim to nonexistent. If you somehow manage to get out, the two could easily track you down and just as easily drag you back. So, as wrong as it seems, you don’t fight it.
Shouta returns with a tray of breakfast, setting it down on your lap after you’d adjusted yourself to lean against the headboard. As he pulls back you mumble a ‘thank you’ and begin to eat, acknowledging the pang of hunger in your belly. As weird as it seems to say ‘thank you’ to your captor, you find it could be helpful even if only a little. Being polite is automatic, but it’s also a great way to make sure you don’t end up injured, or worse, dead somewhere, so for once in a long time your manners are intended. You’d gotten halfway through your meal when Shouta speaks up.
“You’re taking this really well.” He almost seems skeptical. You peer up at him as you finish the food in your mouth.
“There isn’t much use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out.” You motion to the cuff around your ankle and he gives a small chuckle.
“You’re not wrong, kitten.” He leaves to let you finish breakfast, returning ten minutes later and taking your empty tray. He comes back right after, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in hand.
“I’m sure you need to use the bathroom.” You give a small nod, acknowledging the pressure in your bladder for the first time since you woke up. Gently, he takes your wrists and locks the cuffs around them, then holds up the blindfold before going to tie it around your head.
“These are just a precaution.” Soon you feel the cuff on your ankle fall away, and Shouta’s strong arms loop under your knees and back as he lifts you off the bed.You’re both surprised and not that he can lift you with relative ease. He is a pro hero after all. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to stop and gently place you down, taking the blindfold and cuffs off.
“I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Once you’re done, knock and I’ll take you back to bed.” You nod and he leaves, locking the door once he’s outside. Of course it locks from the outside. You take a moment to just think about your current predicament. Currently you’re locked in the house of a pro hero, being kept against your will (sort of). Your life had just taken an unexpected turn.
You knock on the door like Shouta said, and it isn’t long before you’re back on the bed with the cuff around your ankle. As he turns to leave you stop him, and he turns back to you with a quirked eyebrow.
“Can I...draw?” You didn’t know if he’d actually let you have anything, but it was worth a shot. If you were to be cooped up here you need to keep yourself occupied. With a low hum, he leaves the room and comes back with a sketch pad, pencil, and eraser.
Days come and go with either of the pros serving you three meals a day. They begin questioning your obedience, especially Hizashi. He questioned your lack of panic and how you never seemed to try to escape. Even he knows this isn’t normal. Shouta seems less skeptical, like he’d expected less of a fight than any normal, sane person would give. When Hizashi asked questions you answered truthfully. Lying is of no use to you.
“Really, I don’t mind it here. So far my life has been pretty shitty and boring, so this turn of events is mildly appreciated. Besides, you treat me relatively well, considering I’m being held captive, so I can’t say I’m upset.” You’d guessed from both your reading and their actions that they truly believed they cared about you. The chances of them hurting you are slim, so you’re able to live with them without fear.
The cuff around your ankle came off about a week in, and Shouta gave you the freedom to roam the house, though it wasn’t without warning. He held his hand out to you, an offer to help you stand, and you took it. Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shift your weight to your feet. Your legs shake like a newborn fawn, but Shouta held you to let you stretch your legs and get comfortable walking again.
He led you out to what you assume is the dining table and sat you down, Shouta taking the seat on your right. You assume Hizashi is in the kitchen, what with the clatter and smell of food. Shouta asked what you’d been drawing, which caught you a bit off guard, but you answered anyway.
“Koi fish.” He hummed, focused on you.
“Any particular reason why?” You take a moment to think about your answer, it’s not a question you’re used to responding to.
“Well they’re gorgeous creatures. Elegant, sleek and graceful. The way they move is so mesmerizing, smooth and flawless like a flowing creek. I’ve always loved drawing koi.”
The conversation lapses into your fascination with the fish, how they somehow remind you of dragons and how the fantastical creature’s existence isn’t as far-fetched as it’s made out to be. Hizashi joins soon enough, serving dinner and listening in on the conversation.
Once you all finish eating you get comfortable on the couch, nestled between the two men. It isn’t long before you drift off to sleep, their body heat lulling you into dreamland. Shouta carries you to bed, carefully laying you down and pressing a light kiss to your temple. He stands above you, admiring your features as you sleep.
You’re gorgeous to him, a goddess in your own right. He and his blonde counterpart had started watching you mainly because you were a woman, completely alone and seemingly unarmed in a bar until the earliest hours of the morning. Neither of them could tell if you were quirkless or not, and as heroes they made sure to keep an eye on you during their weekly trip to the bar should you get into any trouble.
But eventually it became a habit to look for you, and the more they looked the farther they fell. You looked as exhausted as Shouta every time you stepped through the doors, hair just beginning to lose its style and shoulders sagged. But you were so beautiful, even in your exhausted state. Hizashi was the first to mention his infatuation to Shouta, but the raven-haired man had already figured the blonde was into you.
Soon enough they began to get antsy, constantly watching you walk out the door into the dead of night all alone. You’re just too trusting of the world outside, not taking enough precautions for a woman of your caliber. They made it their mission to make sure you were safe, and one day, take you back home where they could protect you.
Now that you’re here, it’s like a dream. Even as you sleep you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. How your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the way your lips softly part with every breath, how your chest gently rises and falls, it all makes him stare down at you in complete awe. It takes a great deal of willpower for him to tear his eyes away from you and join Hizashi in their room.
*
***3 months later***
*
A couple months have passed since you’d...moved in with the two men, and you can’t say you hate it. They’ve respected your privacy, allowing you to stay in your own room and letting you bathe yourself after refusing their attempts at persuading you to join them. Honestly it’s been nice living with them.
Though, the longer you’re with them the more thoughts begin gathering and swirling in your head. Caring thoughts, how their days progress, how they’re feeling at any point in time. And needy, dirty thoughts. Any time those pop up you make it a point to push them deep down into the farthest recesses of your brain, refusing to fuel those pesky embers.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you know what’s happening, what’s been happening. You’re no stranger to Stockholm Syndrome, having done your own minimal research on the subject a few years back. You constantly tell yourself this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy, to enjoy the company of your captors. You have to remind yourself that they had taken you from everything you knew, and even though there wasn’t much for you to love, they’d taken you from that as well.
But soon enough the illogical prevailed, because despite all of that, the two have been nothing but good to you.
In no time at all the days you spend alone in the large house are the days you find yourself missing their company, hoping they’d return sooner. You managed to dig through their clothes and pick out some of their older t-shirts, and began wearing them around the house. Their lingering scents have been a comfort as you patiently wait for them to come back. They don’t seem to mind at all, so you’re content.
As time passes you get closer with them, gravitating toward them and snuggling into either of their sides, letting them wrap an arm around you and tug you into them. You began giving kisses when they left and returned, a small peck on the cheek at the door. The first time you had engaged a kiss was a shock to both of them.
You had tugged Shouta’s sleeve and when he turned you silently grabbed his collar and yanked him down, leaving a small peck on his cheek, doing the same with Hizashi. They barely had the time to react before you dashed to your room and curled under the blankets, face heated and heart pounding like some schoolgirl who had confessed to her crush and got a positive response. That night you’d received more cuddles and kisses than normal.
The kisses became routine, and before long you all slept in the same bed. Strangely enough, life began to feel somewhat normal. The house began to feel like home.
And soon enough that schoolgirl crush manifested into something dirty, something lustful and carnal. Just as much as you long to be around them, you want desperately to feel their hands on your bare skin, mapping out the curves of your body as you writhe beneath them. You crave them and their touch. But of course you still have your pride. Dropping hints would have to suffice.
Slowly, subtly, you dress lighter, more scantily. No shorts under their t-shirts that barely cover your ass, allowing the stretched collars to drop and expose the slightest peek of skin. After a shower you walk back to the room in nothing but a towel, allowing the edge to ride up your thighs. Your tactics seemed to work, their eyes glued to the newly exposed skin, soaking in your plush thighs and soft skin. Their stares make you ache, but after weeks of nothing but lingering glances you decide to toss your pride out the window.
You have dinner ready when they walk in the door, and after everyone had eaten and showered you usher them both to the couch while you sit facing them from the coffee table. Their confusion is evident on their faces, your nervous fidgeting and reluctance to look them in the eyes didn’t help. What you’re about to bring up is embarrassing to say the least, but staying silent would be a detriment to your sanity. With a steadying breath, you meet their gaze and quietly force out your seemingly ridiculous request.
“So… I enjoy being here with you,” your fingers twist into the hem of your shirt and you swallow down the lump in your throat, “and I really appreciate that you’ve given me anything I asked for-”
“No.” Shouta’s voice suddenly cuts off your sentence.
“You can’t go outside, Kitten. I’m sorry, but that’s non-negotiable right now.” You blink dumbly at him, completely thrown off balance by his statement before you catch yourself, waving your hands frantically in front of you.
“No! Oh god, that’s not…um…. I wasn’t asking to go outside. I love being here, with you, and doing whatever but...it’s what we don’t do...that’s bothering me...just a little bit…” By now your voice is so quiet and high-pitched you wonder if they can even hear you. Hizashi, bless his heart, is just as confused as before the conversation started.
“Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. If you think about it, there’s actually a lot we don’t do.” Shouta holds a hand up, silencing the blonde. His dark eyes drag over your body, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly rub together and you can’t meet his gaze. You squirm, the intensity in his eyes something you aren’t used to but it makes you hot all over. His hand comes down on his thigh twice.
“Come here, Kitty.” Slowly, you stand and walk to him, letting his hands grab your hips and pull you down to straddle his lap. A finger curls under your chin, angling your head to look Shouta in the eyes. A small smirk pulls the corner of his mouth, a moment of realization flashing across his face.
“Our little Kitty is getting needy ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right, Kitten?” Heat flooded your face, your embarrassment and arousal sending hot blood to your face and chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hoping they’d do something about the very horny state you’re in. Shouta’s hand moves to your hip again, lifting you and placing you in Hizashi’s lap before standing and walking away.
The blonde cooed at the surprised squeak you let out at the sudden movement, and you open your eyes to his wide grin. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels nice, and you let your body melt into him and his warmth, his long fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back as he tugs you closer and a pleasant haze settles over your mind.
It’s a blissful moment shared between you, and Shouta returns just as Hizashi pulls away from the kiss. They share a look you can’t place before the former raises a hand to gently stroke your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He seems conflicted, trying to mull over some sort of decision in his brain, his brows just barely drawn and jaw set. When his eyes dropped to his other hand, yours followed, to find he held a long thin black velvet box. Clearly it holds some sort of jewelry.
After a few moments he turns it to you and lifts the lid, and your heart damn near stops beating. Whether it’s from excitement or a brief flash of fear, you don’t know. These two have been watching you for much longer than just at the bar. Those few months are only the tip of the iceberg, but how they’d come to notice you would probably forever remain a mystery to you.
Right now, all that matters is that they know everything. From your failed relationships to the reason they’d all ended. They had to know, that’s the only explanation. There’s no possible way it’s pure coincidence that you now gaze down at a beautifully crafted leather collar. It’s simple, thin, black dotted sparsely with sparkling gems and a dainty metal ring centered at the front. Tentatively, you reach out and trace the leather with your fingers.
“Is this...for me?” A deep hum sounds in Shouta’s chest, and that’s answer enough for you. Shouta plucks the garment from its seat and moves behind you. The cool leather feels heavenly as he loops it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. Everything seemed to go quiet as you waited for something, anything, to solidify this moment.
Click.
You shudder out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shouta tilts your head and presses his lips to yours, looping a finger through the collar and giving a gentle tug. It makes you mewl, allowing him space to slip his tongue behind your teeth. He can see your pupils dilate when he pulls away, plush lips slick with saliva, lust invading your mind. You look so needy and desperate for them, so fucking gorgeous.
Hizashi leaves a kiss on your cheek then picks you up and places you on your feet. Both men grab either of your hands, lacing their fingers with yours, and gently pull you with them to the bedroom. Hizashi begins undressing first, and you can only let your eyes drag over his bare upper body for a moment before Shouta grabs your chin and distracts you with another kiss. This one is more passionate, heated, rough as his tongue effortlessly invades and dominates your mouth. Hizashi’s voice permeates your lust-filled haze.
“Come here, baby.” Shouta pulls away and allows you to walk over to where the blonde sits naked on the edge of the bed. He motions for you to turn around and you oblige, then he grabs your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap, your back pressed to his chest. You watch as Shouta undresses, baring his skin to you as Hizashi tasks himself with undressing you.
Your shirt is the first to be removed, a groan spilling from the blonde when he discovers you aren’t wearing a bra. He pulls you flush against his chest, peppering wet kisses down your neck and shoulders as your eyes roam over Shouta’s sculpted frame. The raven haired man makes his way over, kneeling down between your legs and reaching up to toy with your breasts, rough fingers working your nipples until they peak. Hizashi’s hands find their way down to the pouch of your stomach, grabbing at the soft pliant flesh and squishing the fat there.
You let out a low whine, feeling extremely self-conscious with his hands working at the parts of your body you hate the most. You grab at his wrists in an attempt to pull him away, but he hushes you and whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your neck.
“It’s okay, pretty baby. Let me feel you.” You will yourself to let him go, let his hands explore your body the way he wants. He keeps his hands on your belly, long fingers massaging into your skin.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He’s nipping and kissing at your neck, whispering praises into your ear as he fondles all the fatty parts of you.
Shouta’s hands reach up and tug your panties down, then grip your thighs and pull them apart, exposing you to his hungry eyes. You can’t help but feel exposed, uncomfortable, as they touch and gaze at every part of yourself you had always despised. A whimper builds in your chest, tears beginning to sting your eyes and your breath shaking. Hizashi leans over and kisses your tears away as Shouta leans forward and kisses at your belly and thighs, hands working at whatever flesh he couldn’t get his lips on.
“Let us love you. All of you. You’re such a pretty kitty.” You let yourself relax, let yourself relish in the fact that these two gorgeous men are doting over your body like you’re a goddess, like they couldn’t live if they didn’t worship every one of your perfect imperfections. Though you’re far from comfortable, the initial fear subsides, allowing them full access to you.
“Good girl kitty, good girl.” Shouta whispers as he nips at your thighs, sucking little red marks into your skin. He hooks your legs over Hizashi’s, and the blonde’s fingers dip down to tease your folds, barely breaching your little hole and making you buck for more friction. A soft moan slips from your lips as he pushes two long fingers into your soaked pussy.
You rock your hips into his hand, his palm barely brushing against your clit making you mewl. Shouta focuses his attention on your breasts and belly where Hizashi left bare, kneading and kissing and licking, leaving blooming marks all over your skin. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning impossibly hot. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, grinding his palm down against your clit hard and curling his fingers to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.
When the knot snaps you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking. You throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in intense waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high, legs trembling and toes curling with the continued stimulation.
After your release you relax back down, chest heaving with every breath. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy.
“Are you ready for me kitty?” You look up at him through your lashes and nod fervently, needing him desperately despite the sensitivity. He tugs at your collar gently.
“Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?” Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without any real thought.
“Yes Daddy.” Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath, thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out all at once. The air is punched from your lungs, the stretch around his thick length almost enough to make you cum a second time. Shouta leans down and kisses at the bruises Hizashi had left on your neck, giving you some time to adjust. It only takes a few moments for your walls to stop clamping down on him.
“I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me.” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of you.
Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth, your tongue sliding over them, coating them in your saliva.
He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Your legs quake with the quick building pleasure, your second orgasm creeping up fast. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling your body flush against him and sitting up.
Lithe, cold fingers suddenly dance around your back entrance, toying with your puckered hole. A single finger pushes in and you mewl and squirm at the new sensation. A second finger works its way in, the two digits working to stretch you gently. Soon there’s a third, and when you’re relaxed the fingers are gone and replaced by the thick head of Hizashi’s cock.
“You ready, sweet thing?” You nod and whine, a little weary but ready to be full of the two men. He slowly inches his way inside, shallow thrusts sinking him deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. Both men pepper wet kisses along your shoulders, giving you time to relax, but you don’t need it. You whine, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get them to move, and they oblige.
Their initial pace is slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as they slip in and out of you. They build up a rhythm, when one is bottomed out the other has only the tip in, and soon you’re drooling from the amount of stimulation you’re getting. Hizashi’s fingers move down to work at your clit, and just the slightest touch has you trembling. The stimulation shoves you over the edge and has you cumming hard around them, your slick dripping down your thighs. They slow their pace slightly, your holes clamping down on them and attempting to milk them dry. Hizashi’s fingers rub your clit harder, overstimulating you.
“Do you have one more for us baby? I know you can cum one more time for us.” You whine, thrashing in their arms trying to simultaneously get away and tug them closer. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach and Shouta leans over and bites down on your shoulder. The pain pulls you over, crying out as you clamp down on their lengths hard. Their hips stutter as they chase their own release, and they shoot rope after rope of cum into you as you ride out your own high.
They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments they pull out together, the movement making you moan and tremble. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him, stroking your hair and back. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders, both cooing praises in your ears.
Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom, where Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he unlocks your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back from the intense scene.
“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, wanting to be close to the both of them. The hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off and takes you from Shouta. He dries you off with a towel and locks your collar back around your neck.
“Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us.” Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.
You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, content with the new life you’d been brought into.
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cowboyjen68 · 2 years
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Hey Jen! I love your content and I really value the work you are putting into the community. :) I don’t know how you were raised, but I come from a very conservative christian household who mostly puts up with my queerness, but despite how they’ve changed for me, the lessons they taught me growing up still stick with me.
I love women, and I really love being a lesbian, but sometimes I just wish I wasn’t gay. I feel like being a lesbian, being butch makes me harder to love. I haven’t had much luck in relationships and every girl I’ve been with has left me for a guy afterward (even if they said they were a lesbian while dating me). It feels like because I’m butch/non-binary I’m “close enough” to experiment with, but not to take seriously. Sometimes even just more than that I can’t shake the feeling of inherent “wrongness” within me because of what I was taught. I have strong, loving lesbians around me and have been out of the closet for years now but still I doubt myself. I was just wondering how you were able to shake those feelings and if you had any advise for me. thank you.
I was raised pretty generically Christian. My dad had not time for religion and mom would rarely go to church. Like once a year or less and normally for only special occasions, My brother is a born again Christian now but growing up he was hippy with a cool conversion van with a pirate ship painted on the side.
If Tumblr had existed when I was in my 20's i might have written almost word for word what you have. My family was ok with me but due to past experiences I knew they had concerns. Some of those concerns were because the world can be harder for lesbians. Some were because I no longer fit into the way I am "supposed" to be. For the most part my family is great but I am aware that they weren't thrilled when I came out (even though they knew I was different). With the exception of my sister who has always been whole heartedly supportive even before I came out of the closet.
Im going to guess you are in your 20's and still in the time of life where dating is encouraged and acceptable. You are expected to be trying to settle down immediately. (Although in lesbian circles there is often pressure to couple off and be done with dating).
I didn't really have a "dating" period in my life. My first girlfriend and I were together 7 years. My second 17 years. Then I dated one FWB briefly before falling deeply in love with the woman I currently love (sadly we are not together but it is because of life circumstances and not lack of passion).
I have often felt like I am doing "woman" wrong because I didn't want to be a man, yet "looked like one" and i knew I was not fitting the expectations of a woman in our culture. I knew that because people pointed it out. "Why don't you like dresses?" or "You should smile, boys will like you better" and my mom was constantly telling me to be less loud because i was not a boy.
As a butch I often feared no other lesbian would find me attractive because lesbians want to date other women and not someone who looks like a man. It really wasn't until my late 20's that I started to address some of my internal misgivings. I had lots of lesbian friends and they introduced me to lesbian culture and to butch as a way to describe my experiences and energy and not has a definition of rules and roles I had to follow.
But it was a slow process to really feel like my masculinity was a good thing, that I was loved for who I am.
My most recent girlfriend was wonderful at showing me that, while my personality was all mine and what she loves about me, my butchness was sexy and attractive and wonderful to her. I could have a tender heart and easy smile and still be butch.
She didn't want a woman that looked like a man. She wanted a butch. A woman. And that makes me forever happy.
I guess what I am saying is, I have been where you are in your head and sometimes when I am alone, tired but can't sleep (like tonight) I feel little inklings of doubt sneak in, what if I am not good enough. Now it has more to do with age, my chaotic life and all that. I know now that is just fatigue, missing my ex and sadness on a dark winter night.
You will get better at knowing you are enough as you are. You will embrace your innate sexuality and way of existing (butch) with more and more confidence as time goes by.
It is hard when there is a pattern of women leaving you, especially for men. Consider this. You are likely a safe and kind person and they are struggling (even if they don't say it). They are using you to get past or figure out something because you are not a danger to them. You make them feel good. This is not your issue, it is theirs. They are taking advantage of you.
Talk to your lesbian friends, even bi women, talk to older woman and I think you will find many of them had the same discouraging thoughts you have. They might not give you answers, and I probably can't either but knowing you are not alone might help you to see there is a light at the end of the very common lesbian tunnel you are in right now.
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ladykissingfish · 3 years
Note
drunk Akatsuki hc? 🥺
Ask and ye shall receive! ((Sorry it took so long to get to/finish this. Also get the nagging feeling I did a post very similar to this before but 🤷🏽‍♀️ piss poor memory so))
Drinking with the Akatsuki
Kakuzu
Takes a lot to get him drunk; his alcohol tolerance is pretty damn high. And when he does reach that point, he becomes … very unlike himself. Friendly, smiling, and extremely loose with his precious money. Kakuzu being drunk is the best time to ask him for an advance on your pay, or a personal loan. Another bonus: drunk Kakuzu is storytime Kakuzu. When he’s sober, the others don’t really like listening to his stories because they’re all boring as hell, and are usually centered around some point that he’s trying to nag everyone on. But drunk Kakuzu, well, he’ll tell you about brawls, dangerous stunts he pulled when he was a kid, sometimes even old lovers. He can keep the rest of the Akatsuki enraptured for hours with his intoxicated tales. The morning after a night of drinking is a different tale, though. He’ll remember loaning money to people and hunt them down to make sure that know they have to pay him back, and he’ll deny like crazy any story tidbits that the others bring up to him. Will also go through several pots of pure black coffee in an effort to de-hangover himself more quickly.
Pein
The Pein bodies don’t drink, but Nagato will, very rarely. Beer is his drink of choice, and he’ll opt for foreign rather than domestic. He’s not really the type to get full-on drunk (no matter what he’s the Leader and he carries himself as such), rather he’ll just get slightly tipsy. If he gets tipsy enough he’ll rant a bit to whoever’s closest about pain, and the unfairness of life, and anything else that would put a downer on happy drinkers’ moods. He always hopes that the alcohol will help him to sleep (he’s a horrible insomniac) but most times it just gives him a slight headache while leaving him wide-wake and dry-mouthed.
Hidan
Nobody wants to be around this guy when he’s had too much to drink, because the normally violent Hidan becomes even more so after hitting the booze. He’ll be willing to take on any and everyone, from teenagers to old men. And being immortal doesn’t help matters any; he could literally get torn limb from limb and his mouth would still be taunting his opponents with “Is that the best ya got, bastard??” Drinking also brings out his creative side when it comes to his human sacrifices and Jashin rituals; he’ll think up new (and horrible) ways to torment and kill his victims. Is the type to finally, FINALLY just completely pass out after reaching his final tolerance point, and the others will (reluctantly) drag him to his room and put him in his bed. Not many are willing to do this, however, as most times before he passes out he’ll have stripped himself completely naked.
Tobi
An emotional drunk. Gets sad and cries over practically anything. And it doesn’t take much to get him tanked, either; his tolerance level is embarrassingly low and he’ll be ready to sob after just a couple of glasses of wine. Tobi tries to avoid drinking when he can because he knows there’s a good chance of him dropping his persona and letting the others see Obito Uchiha. In fact this HAS happened a few times, where he’a taken off his mask and everything; fortunately for him the others were so gone that the next day they either didn’t remember, or believed that had just imagined the whole thing. Likes to soothe himself by slurring sad love songs at the top of lungs, joined most frequently by Deidara and Hidan. Will also drunkenly stuff his face with meats, which is a complete opposite from his sweet-loving sober self. He can throw down a dozen burgers when boozed up, the results of which will likely be in puddles all over the floor the next day. Will go to his bed and turn around in circles a bunch of times, like a dog, before finally going to sleep. “Tobi” will be the quietest he’s ever been the next day, as he fights a massive headachy hangover.
Konan
For being such a thin, delicate girl, Konan can hold her liquor right up there with the likes of Kakuzu and Kisame. One might never even know that she’s drunk to begin with; she walks perfectly straight, doesn’t slur her words, has almost perfect reflexes and normal mannerisms. One thing always gives her away, however; drunk Konan is hungry Konan. Under normal circumstances the little lady sticks to a healthy diet and isn’t one for over-indulging in anything. One shot or beer too many, and suddenly the gloves are off. Konan will make pizza, hotdogs, gigantic sundaes, cakes and pies … and devour almost all of it. She’ll share with the others if asked … but most times she’s eaten so much that there’s not much left to share. When she’s finally had her fill, she’ll go to bed … and wake up feeling sick as a dog the next morning. After the nausea passes, she’ll force herself to go for a long run or walk, no matter how much her head may be aching, in order to work off her excessive calorie intake.
Zetsu
Zetsu doesn’t drink, because alcohol interferes with his plant genetics, acting as literal poison to his system. But he enjoys being around the others when they’re drunk, to see the different types of personalities that emerge. Likes to hang around Hidan in particular, as the man’s sacrifices pick up significantly when he’s drunk, meaning Zetsu has more of a smorgasbord of leftovers to pick from
Sasori
As a puppet, Sasori doesn’t drink. But when he was a human, it was a different story. He turned himself into a non-human at a very young age, much younger, of course, than would have been the legal drinking age. But his grandmother kept a variety of wines in their home, and when she was away, he liked to pour himself a glass. Always only a single glass; he was intelligent enough both to know that his grandmother would notice if any larger of a quantity was missing, and, already dabbling in making poisons at this point, he understood the concept of “tolerance” better than most. But the single glass was enough; it seemed to comfort him during those nights when he was missing his mother and father. The wine also served as a brain-opener for him, of sorts: it was over wine that he first got the idea of turning himself into a puppet.
Deidara
Being young and so slender, and not having much experience with alcohol before joining the Akatsuki, the blonde is a bit of a light-weight when it comes to the hooch. He doesn’t really care for beers or ales (he compares the taste to “cat-piss”) and instead goes for the fruity mixed drinks that don’t SEEM that strong … until you’ve had about three or four, and they put you on your ass. Deidara becomes very lovey-dovey when drunk, and not just in a romantic sense. Alcohol makes everyone in the world his friend, and he’s suddenly interested in what others have to say about life and art. He’s even nice to Itachi, going so far as to hug him and tell him that he smells good, something that he will vehemently deny the next day. He’ll go to Sasori and cling to him and gush about how he appreciates his friendship and his guidance, until Sasori gets tired of him and tells him to go to sleep. Deidara can get to his room on his own, but once the door closes, he’s more likely to pass out on the floor than in his own bed. Also, if he didn’t think to tie up his long hair beforehand, he’ll be in for a nasty, messy surprise when he inevitably wakes up to vomit at some point.
Itachi
Itachi isn’t one to ever let himself lose control of his senses, no matter the situation. Therefore, if he’s drinking with the others, he’ll stick to one or two beers or a single shot before cutting himself off for the evening. He plays much of a “mom” role in the group, making sure the others are okay, lending a shoulder to cry on for the emotional drunks, and, if they’re out somewhere, making sure everyone gets home safe and sound. On the rare, RARE occasions he drinks by himself, and lets go of his hesitation, he’s just as emotional a drinker as Tobi (which is quite possibly an Uchiha trait). He’ll cry into his pillow, he’ll sit and lament over the choices he’s made in life. Sometimes he’ll find and put on the saddest song or movie he can think of, just so he has something to get emotional over. Although this sounds bad, this is actually a helpful bit of therapy for him, as it allows him to release emotions that he normally keeps bottled up. He’ll end a night of solo drinking with a cup of tea, then go quietly to bed, sleeping like a rock until the sun comes up and things go back to normal.
Kisame
Right up there with Kakuzu as being a guy that can hold his liquor like a champ. In fact his ability to do so has won him many drinking challenges at bars, as well as a formidable reputation as “one bad ass son of a bitch”. It also helps him confidence-wise; normally the half-shark is very reserved and keeps to himself, as he feels that his appearance is off-putting and scary to “normal” people. But alcohol loosens him up and gets him talking, and being bold, and many people find this switch in personality to be highly attractive. Ladies especially take notice of his smile, his eyes … and his muscles. He even scores several phone numbers from interested parties … but by the time he’s sober again, he never follows through with calling anyone. Also helps Itachi in that he keeps an eye on the others when they drink, to make sure that they’re safe.
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Listen I know some of us who read Tolkien’s work from a queer perspective like to laugh at how he was probably oblivious to how he was writing these intimate male friendships, and I know it's nobody's place to speculate on the personal matters of a dead (or alive) public figure, but as a bi guy who's spent most of his life in an environment where homosexuality is A) NEVER brought up or considered and B) on the incredibly rare occasions it is, is never presented in a positive light, I can easily see how if I was a writer I would write male interactions in the same way. Of course it doesn't take any amount of homosexuality to write passionate close platonic friendships between men, but in my experience I have always placed Way Too Much value in my own friendships with other dudes in comparison to how much they placed in ours, which may as well be a cultural thing, but I know it also stemmed from my not knowing (or feeling “allowed”) to express my romantic feelings for other guys. I didn't know homosexuality (especially bisexuality) was even an option until I was like 14 (sheltered Catholic environment yayyyy.)  Even if I wasn't exactly encouraged to pursue female relationships, I still knew I could, but my romantic feelings towards males was redirected into a one-sided fierce devotion. So really, what I'm trying to say is, if I were born and lived in a time where homosexuality was seldom mentioned and placed in an overwhelmingly perverse light (How could I be a homosexual if I love women and don't feel disgustingly towards other men?) and I had the option to create a world that was different - and in many ways better and more fantastical - than our own, I would write these mutually intense relationships between my male characters. Even if I recognized my physical attraction to other men, I wouldn't make these fictional relationships traditionally romantic in that sense, on account of society's widely negative reception of media of that nature. But I would still have the next-closest option. I would give my characters the chance to have these strong connections, that while aren't sexual, are still so tangibly passionate, and that are so rarely present in my real life.
Once again, it's my firm belief that nobody has the authority to speak for the deceased and/or public figures, so take this with a McDonald's-meal amount of salt. I'm just saying that I as a bisexual man can relate to A) seeing woman as insanely powerful, beautiful, and otherworldly, and B) willing to die for and also kiss my male friends who I love in a completely normally heterosexual bro way, and maybe, maybe, that Tolkien did know, on some level, what he was doing when he wrote Frodo and Sam, Bilbo and Thorin, Legolas and Gimli, Beleg and Turin, Fingon and Maedhros, and I'm sure many other examples, like that.
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lokescurse · 3 years
Note
Hello I hope you're feeling better soon and please a - z for naoya and the nsfw alphabet hehe I'm greedy for Naoya content. Sending love and hugs
Thank you~❤️I'm doing okay, still recovering but I was well enough to finish this. I hope the wait was worth it! Some of these letters were already answered for other people, so I'll be linking back to the posts where I put them. Otherwise, here you are, a full alphabet for our favourite little menace of the Zenin clan:
These are gn!Reader friendly!
As one could expect, MDNI, thank you!~ Specific warnings under the cut.
C/D1/K/W1 & B/D2/J/N/W2
Warnings: Mentions of cum, katoptronophilia, limited aftercare, oral sex (both receiving), rough sex, mocking, degradation, humiliation, praise, choking, implied unprotected sex, creampies/cumming inside, detailed descriptions of uncircumcised dick, semi-public sex, quickies, exhibitionism, descriptions of pubic hair, use of toys, sexting, dick pics, overstimulation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, and orgasm denial. Also if there are grammar and spelling mistakes, I’m sorry but I didn’t have the energy to proof read this a million times lol.
A = Aftercare: Aftercare with Naoya is...minimalistic, really. If he’s awake enough after sex, he’ll probably want to wash off with you so that you don’t have to worry about yourself or your bed sheets in the morning, though. This can be a shower or a bath and he doesn’t really have a preference, so if you just want a quick rinse that’s fine & if you’d like to put some scented bath salts in the tub and just soak for a bit, that also works. He’s not really picky during this time (in fact, Post-orgasm Naoya is probably the most agreeable version of him lmao). Anything more than this is a bit of a toss-up, however. He’s probably just gonna want to go straight to bed or he’ll have to even skip the wash, adjust himself, and head off to whatever he has next on his daily agenda. But, if he does get to stay in bed for the night, expect him to also use whatever power he has to sleep in with you the next day.
D = Dirty secret: This is one that even a very beloved partner would have significant difficulty wrangling out of him.....but Naoya really doesn’t mind the idea of wearing lingerie, even if it’s a bit more on the feminine side. He has a great figure and he knows it. What’s more is that he loves all kinds of accessories that accentuate his naturally pretty features. So it should come as no surprise to learn that Naoya has definitely tried on a few things in front of his mirror, and somewhere deep in his computer are the selfies he took while wearing the pieces he liked most. He’s especially partial to black garments with lace trim and lots of straps & garters. Perhaps even more than the lingerie itself, he loves thinking of all the praise and compliments he’ll receive for wearing it. So his partner had better be prepared to absolutely drown him in heartfelt flattery if this is a thing they’d like to see more of in the future.
E = Experience: Naoya isn't very experienced, in my opinion. I do think that he'd be willing to have a few one-night-stands here and there just to get out some of the frustration that he can't relieve himself, but that doesn't mean he was all that well-educated on what to do. He's not innocent by any means, but being with him means being willing to understand that he'll need some actual practice to be exceptional at anything in the bedroom. His one strength is that he does have some natural talent with his tongue and fingers, though, if you get my drift. It's a learning curve, but he'll get there. F = Favorite position: I’m of the mind that Naoya enjoys the butterfly, cowgirl, classic missionary, and spooning positions best. Ultimately, these are all positions that either 1) let him see his partner’s face & body, 2) let him press his skin directly against theirs, or 3) both. A position that allows Naoya to choose between getting up close and sensual or leaning back and enjoying the view is going to land on his favourites every time. All four of these also allow him to have good control over the pace to some extent or another (which we’ll establish later as being fairly important to him). Even cowgirl gives him the option to steady his partner’s hips and push into them at his desired speed from below. An honourable mention here is doggy style, but he tends to only like it while him and his partner are facing a mirror. Like I said, he likes to be able to see everything.
G = Goofy: Naoya doesn't tend to be goofy during the act, per se, but he does enjoy bringing his normal scoundrel attitude into the bedroom with him. He's the mocking, sarcastic, and teasing sort. At times, it can also just be him playing coy in an attempt to get his partner to admit to/beg for something they want done to them. He's the kind to hear his partner say "please..." and ask "please, what?" even though he knows full well what it is they're looking for. Playful, to say the least. We’ll get more into this when we get to U.
H = Hair: While the idea of Naoya also bleaching his pubes is...interesting to me, I do think that he keeps them the natural black colour they are. As far as the cut goes, I’d say he’s very well groomed. He keeps it well-shaped and tame down there, sometimes he might even shave it completely if he’s going to be too busy to see to it properly for a while. He does also take into account what his partner likes, though, as he wants to make sure he’s as attractive to them as he can be in every possible way. Tell him what you like and, if it suits him, he’ll do his best.
I = Intimacy: Let’s face it, Naoya’s not the romantic type. While he can be tender, it’s rare that there’s a time with Naoya that isn’t punctuated by roughness or mockery to some extent or another. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t something deeper to it at all. More accurately, Naoya’s roughness is largely due to his enthusiasm to be wrapped up with his partner in the first place. Obviously, his nigh insatiable appetite is also to blame, but it’s not the only contributor to his eagerness. When Naoya desires someone, he desires them wholly, and he seeks no one else. So while his partner probably shouldn’t expect a soft/romantic lovemaking session unless it’s their birthday or some such occasion, they should know that everything Naoya does is specifically, and only for them. It has its own inherent romance to it, even if it’s not always clear.
L = Location: There a few different locations that Naoya loves to get tangled up in. His own bed, the estate sauna, the training mats in the dojo - they're all great and he'll almost never say no to them. But there's one place that Naoya absolutely loves to defile with his partner more than any other:
His father's bed.
It's risky and he knows well that it's not always an option, but if there's ever a moment in which his partner is game and Naobito is busy elsewhere, Naoya will practically sprint there. The whole way he's biting his lip at the thought and loosening his clothes to prevent lost time. He can't help but to love the high that comes over him when he and his partner have their way in the Very Important Private Room Only for the Head of the Zenin Clan. It serves as both a reminder of his own personal motivations, as well as just a giant "Fuck You" to his father in general. The best of both worlds. M = Motivation: Naoya isn’t a difficult man to turn on, as he’s practically always at the ready. You can pretty much just vaguely allude to the concept of sex and his brows (and something else) will begin to perk up. However, I do think there are a few little things that will get him particularly entranced with his s/o. One of them is low-cut or revealing clothing. Parade yourself with confidence or tease him with a suggestive outfit and he’s already ravishing you with his eyes at every possible moment. Naoya loves beauty and ostentation, so if his partner takes the time to pick out clothes that really highlight all their best curves & features, you can bet that Naoya isn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself. For male/masc partner’s especially, I think he also loves shows of strength. Naoya can’t help but stare when he sees taught muscle flexing, or be impressed by how easily his partner can lift heavy objects that he can’t (as I’m writing this, I’m thinking maybe maybe maybe Naoya might just have a bit of a size kink, too eheh). Finally, something that works for all kinds of s/os is that Naoya absolutely loves having his neck touched - it’s probably his most sensitive, non-erogenous body part. If the person he’s involved with at the time comes up behind him while he’s sitting on a couch or at his desk, gently grazes their fingers along the side of his neck, and whispers something suggestive in his ear, Naoya’s all but putty in their hands.
O = Oral: Oh, Naoya, Naoya, Naoya. When isn’t this man wagging his tongue? Honestly, even he knows that he really ought to put it to better use sometimes. And so he does, but you almost hate to admit that he’s so damn good at it. As one could imagine, it’s filled with a ton of teasing, though. There’s plenty of him blowing lightly on the excited skin, lots of kitten licks and soft kisses, and of course it wouldn’t be sex with Naoya without a heavy dose of “use your words” and other taunts. Ultimately, there’s not much Naoya Zenin loves more than really taking his time between his partner’s thighs and watching as they completely come unraveled beneath his diligent tongue. It’s so good to him, that he’s often caught moaning around his partner’s sex, sending pleasant vibrations all along the flesh there & enhancing the experience further. Sometimes, even, he can’t bring himself to stop after his s/o’s release finishes coating his lips, and he’ll continue to press his tongue against them until they’re jolting from overstimulation. Even then he might not stop without a safeword. Asking Naoya for oral really is a gamble in that way. There’s no telling whether he’ll leave his partner at a comfortable satisfied, or catapult them thoroughly into mindless and exhausted.
Naoya prefers to give and, honestly, if he had to choose the method to his climax, he’d just choose sex over oral if he had the time. That being said, Naoya was made for multiple orgasms. So if there’s only enough time for oral, expect for him to try and make use of every possible second. Therefore, his partner should probably make sure they rest their jaw afterwards.
P = Pace: Generally speaking, Naoya prefers the act to have a more rapid pace. As one can expect from someone with a speed-based technique, Naoya has a great capacity to keep things moving quickly. The bedroom is no exception. Even in moments where the scene is more sensual, he can’t help but raise the pace as time goes on. There’s something about the extra friction and the desperation it fills him with that makes the sex all the more passionate in his eyes. Just him and his partner, recklessly chasing their highs together. Mmm.~ ♡
Q = Quickie: Naoya loves quickies, for the most part. He kind of has to, seeing as he has to always be somewhere for some reason or another. His partner can probably expect at least one each week in-between blocks of missions, meetings, and other monotony. Sometimes it's the only kind of sex there is, which is mostly fine for him....but he does sometimes long for the more calm, slow moments when he can really take his time. A balance between the two, is really what he craves. R = Risk: Naoya is very willing to experiment and take risks, as I'm sure you've probably guessed by this point. He's down to try almost anything once, and some of his favourite acts are ones done in places where it would be easy to be caught. The things he likes are also pretty varied, and he doesn't mind going from soft to harsh or anywhere in between. Ultimately a pretty exciting partner once he starts getting the hang of things. S = Stamina: I’ve talked about this before in separate posts, but I think it’s fair to say that Naoya likely has pretty good stamina. I don’t necessarily like when other people just say that every character they write for can go multiple rounds all night because that’s not always realistic. But, since Naoya so very specifically has a speed-based ability and we know how important strength, performance, and training were to the Zenin...I don’t think it’s unfair to say in this case that, yes, Naoya can probably go for quite some time. I’m also of the mind that he cums quickly, but is not easily overstimulated, leading him to be able to hit multiple orgasms without getting too overwhelmed or tired. Ergo, this man can and will keep you up way past your bedtime if you ask nicely. ♡
T = Toys: I like to think that Naoya is pretty open to the possibility of using toys. After all, they can very easily result in a heightened experience for both him and his partner. He’d especially love using things like vibrators, clamps, and plugs because of how readily they can bring his s/o over the edge and deep into overstimulation. And since he’s someone who also likes to cum multiple times in any given session, I can definitely see them as being useful to him, too. Ultimately, I think this is a “you name it and I’ll try it,” sort of subject for Naoya. He’ll give anything a go at least once.
U = Unfair: Oh, are you kidding? I think we’ve established by now that teasing may as well be Naoya’s own, distinct love language. It’s impossible for him to refrain from denying, teasing, and openly mocking his s/o during any stage of sex. For him, it’s an integral part of the fun. He loves to make his partner beg, to mock their whimpering, to intentionally “miss” any of their sweet spots, and to give only the slightest of touches against the skin for far too long. Bringing his partner to the brink and sinking them down over and over again - having them completely at his mercy...oh yeah, he positively adores it all.
V = Volume: I think this is where I differ the most from a lot of other people who write for him, because I absolutely think that Naoya is shameless enough to fully moan whenever the mood strikes him. No hushed grunting or strangled noises with this man. He will just let it all out exactly as he feels it. After all, Naoya’s not a person to conceal his emotions as is. Why would he bother to hide what a good time he’s having? Plus, if you’ve been around my posts long enough, you know full well that I think he would also really enjoy trying to embarrass his partner by repeating their own sounds back to them when they get particularly amusing. So, really, there’s no way I would have ever told you that this man is quiet, of all things. Lmao.
W = Wild card: Naoya loves to lock his partner in place, especially when he’s close to cumming. This can sometimes be in the form of choking, but other times it’s just him pressing closer against them or wrapping an arm across the chest/sternum to anchor them to him. It’s quite the display, really. A hand or arm will come up to curl around his s/o’s body, his pace will quicken, and his breathing grows ragged. He has almost no mind left for dirty talk and simply moans readily into his partner’s ear as he reaches his peak inside them. The whole time, he’s holding them firmly in place and making sure they take every drop of his seed.
X = X-ray: He’s beauty, he’s grace. Naoya’s overall body is lean, fit, and sculpted. His musculature is more on the subtle end, but each gentle slope and rounded hill is wrapped so perfectly in smooth, even skin. His ass is especially noteworthy, as it is that somewhat square shape with divots in the sides that one can expect from a very fit build, but also with enough mass there to give the actual cheeks that lovely & grab-able bubble-like quality. Truly, it’s an enticing thing that any good partner would be loathe not to appreciate. Rotating the man a bit, let’s talk about what he’s workin’ with, you know what I’m sayin’? 👀 Naoya’s a proud member of the Pretty Cock Squad, in my opinion. It’s not particularly large or small, sitting at about a comfortable 6-6.5 inches. He is uncircumcised and almost religiously clean. His foreskin is about the same colour as the rest of him, but with a red, blushing quality to it. It’s also very smooth & soft to the touch. There are no veins visible, save for a single prominent, raised one along the underside that looks almost like a seam turned out. The head underneath is cutely rounded, very pink, and super sensitive - which is largely why he cums so fast. Overall, it’s a member to be proud of, and he’ll certainly take any opportunity he can to show it off to his partner. Hopefully they like dick pics during sexting!
Y = Yearning: Oh, boy. This man is horny 24/7, babe. It’s honestly a wonder that Naoya isn’t trying to chase his high every moment of every day. If he isn’t engaging in a sexual act himself, he’s probably thinking of the kinds he’d like to be involved in later, or ones he’ll think about with more clarity when he has a moment alone. So any time a partner even jokes about getting intimate, Naoya will be there actively hoping that they mean what they say deep down because he’s already thinking about just how he’d like to do it tonight.
Z = Zzz: Conked out immediately. Naoya can last quite a while, but no matter how high your stamina is, there comes a point where you need to stop for a bit. It's actually because Naoya is able to exert so much energy during the act that he needs sleep so badly after. Don't be surprised if you roll over to snuggle up to him sometimes only to hear him softly snoring away. Just make sure you wake him up at some point so he can brush his teeth!
Okay! With that all being said and done, I’m gonna tag you ( @depechemoth ) as well just to make sure you get it since sometimes tumblr doesn’t tell people when their asks get answered anymore + I spent a lot of time on this so I don’t want you to miss it!
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five-rivers · 3 years
Text
Pennywort and Swallowtails
For @phantomphangphucker :)
Prompt:  Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.
.
Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately.  There was something in the atmosphere, almost.  It felt… lighter, maybe?  
He didn’t like it.  
After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion.  The tendency had saved his life multiple times.  Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost.  Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.
For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with.  Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him.  Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.
Which wasn’t that often.  Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha.  He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one.  Skipped school and everything.  The whole high school experience.  Ha.  
Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.  
He sighed, heavily.  Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding).  Stock up on supplies.  Get ready to weather a storm.  Literal or metaphorical.  
But hiding out in the cave was so boring.  There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.
Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…
Yeah.  Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah.  Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts.  It was pretty empty around here.  
Just like Flynn’s heart.  
Ha.  
Yeah.  That was a good one.  
Eh.  Life wasn’t so bad.  He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time.  Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof.  Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity.  And not having a concussion.  Or losing any more teeth.  
But, back to his original topic.  
Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe.  Was it directly Flynn’s problem?  No.  The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—
The sky tore open in front of him.  
Flynn recognized that.  Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—
The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom.  But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.  
He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger.  Who knew what could come out of a portal?  At least according to the ghosts he talked to.  Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.  
This was going to suck so much.  
The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.
(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary.  Which he had read.  Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)
Ah, heck.  He could take one ghost.  Three? Yeah.  Not a chance.  
Maybe they’d leave?  They couldn’t know for sure he was here.  With how unpredictable portals were, and all.
“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.  
Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.  
He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again.  He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either.  No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.  
“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.  
“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”
Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait.  They weren’t.  Flynn would know.  He’d made many unbelievable jokes.  They’d never attracted anything but groans.  
Ha.  
“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost.  “He isn’t even a real ghost.”
“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.  
“We don’t have any choice about her, though.  Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”
Rude, but accurate.  
“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out.  Damn Clockwork.”
This was officially too weird for Flynn.  Why were they cursing out clocks?
“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”
Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him.  The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago.  At least a decade.  
But he did scream.  Loudly.  Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all.  He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.
“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.  
“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages.  “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.”  He examined his fingernails.  “Now, Mr. Walker—”
“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.  
“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”
“What.”
“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate.  Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.”  He eyed the eyeballs.  
“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.  
“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.  
“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork.  “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”
“Uh,” said Flynn.  He adjusted his grip on his staff.  “Vaguely?”
“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”
“You- You’re saying I have family here.”
“Indeed.”
“Like, Aunt Maddie?”
Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face.  “No.  Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”
“Wait, wait, he was a baby.  Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”
“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.  
“How did he die?”
“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork.  He raised an eyebrow.  “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”
Flynn bit his lip.  Hard.  Okay. He wasn’t dreaming.  And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway?  Flynn was nothing.  He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.  
“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.  
“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands.  “Then let us away to the castle.”
.
Well.  That was certainly a castle.  Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.  
It was a big step up from Flynn’s house.  Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.  
Or even hole, when compared to all this.  Dear god, this place was fancy.  
Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.  
Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin.  You are not underdressed.  
Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings.  “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost.  “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”
“Human safe?”
“Human safe.”
That was ominous.  
“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one.  I will collect you for dinner in three hours.  Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”
Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.  
… There would be curtains, right?  This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.  
He opened the door.  
Lots of curtains.  Lovely.
No, really.  It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains.  He might be crying.  
Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft.  He wanted to—
Wait, no, he was filthy.  Filthy.  Covered in years’ worth of grime.  He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.  
Pathetic, right?
There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath.  He was craving a human-safe bath.  With clean water and soap.  
Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes?  Toothpaste?  Unrestrained luxury.  
The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter.  The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.  
There was a sink.  
He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.  
He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.  
Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).
He had to keep cycling the water.  Because he made it so, so dirty.  He sank into the water, up to his chin.  
When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause.  Because it was always a lost cause.  Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.  
There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available.  He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one.  Were there ghost dentists?  There had to be ghost dentists.  They had a lot of teeth.  A lot of teeth.  Sharp, scary, teeth.  
Ugh.  His baby cousin was a ghost.  He’d probably have teeth like a shark.  When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all.  Because.  Baby. Little, tiny, baby.  
Who Flynn barely knew.  
Why did he even want Flynn?  Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?  
Ghosts were weird.  Anything could be possible.  
He flopped face-first onto the bed.  His bed?  His temporary and maybe permanent bed.  If he was allowed to stay here.  
Oh, gosh.  Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals.  Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?  
To Flynn’s proper time?
To Mom?  
He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.  
(Dad?  Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)
He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed.  But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.  
Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now.  He was living in the scariest place out of the world.  
Ha.  
Yeah.  
He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe.  Oh, boy. Many clothes.  He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store.  Incredible.  
They were so fancy, too.  He didn’t know how to choose.  
He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.  
He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed.  Some of them looked cool.  And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.  
Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet.  Yet.
Oh, cool, there was underwear.  Wow.  It had been a while.  
.
Okay.  The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice.  Like, no nap nice.  
He wanted to take a nap.  
But no nap was occurring.  
The bed was too soft.  Ugh.  This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.  
He groaned.  He hadn’t thought that was real.  He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama.  Or something.  
He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.  
Maybe he could sleep here.  
.
He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover.  What cover? Oh.  Bed.  That was the bed.  He was in the room.  In the castle.  The ghost king’s castle.  
His baby cousin’s castle.  
He was going to cry.  This was so weird.  
Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand.  Which.  Might not have been the best of ideas.  But, hey, he was dressed now.  
He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle.  Eventually, though, he managed it.
Clockwork was standing there.  One of his eyebrows went up.  “Interesting choice.”
Flynn looked down.  Orange and green went fine together.  What was he talking about?  
Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.  
“Come, now.  Your cousins are expecting you.”
Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back.  At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.  
He decided not to do that.  Running away wasn’t his style.  
(Who was he kidding?  That was definitely his style.  He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)
(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing.  Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)
“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.  
“Do you, like, read minds?”
Clockwork chuckled.  “Only the future.”  He swung the large, gilded door open.  
Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates.  There were a small group of children beyond it.  One of them waved at him.  Was that Danny?
Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.  
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