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#housing just hates her so bad actually. and I mean. i was going to be like hey she signed off on it that’s on her
homestuckreplay · 1 day
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Harlequin Anger vs Jester Ennui - Color as John Egbert’s Emotions
Week 2 Retrospective
John Egbert is the silliest little guy, but we’re starting to see hints of what he’s feeling beneath the surface. Looking at the themes of the comic so far, my current theory is that the colorful elements in the comic are the things that make John feel strong emotions - both good and bad - while the monochrome elements represent what makes John feel bored and frustrated.
Analysis below the cut - about 2,200 words.
‘A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.’ (p.82)
Desolation has two, related meanings - one is loneliness, grief, and lack of companionship, while the other is ruin, emptiness and destruction. The first meaning is John’s current mental state, while the second is the suburb he lives in. The majority of what’s surrounding John is entirely monochrome, and so is John himself. We also learn from the narration on p.82 that ‘something feels missing from [John’s] life’ and that he has a sense ‘not of mirth, but of lack’. I think he spends a lot of time going through the motions - poking at things in his room without settling to anything, wandering up and down the stairs when his dad is occupied - but his life is the same day in and day out, and he struggles to inject any excitement into his life, or even any anger at the situation he’s trapped in. 
I think it’s extremely notable that almost everything relating to John’s family is monochrome. In addition to the house as a whole, the portraits of his dad and nanna are monochrome, as are the gifts and cakes from his dad, the car outside, and most importantly the piano. I don’t think John hates his father, but I think he struggles to connect with him or feel close to him. Ignoring page 72’s peanut ambiguity, the worst we hear about Dad is that he will ‘monopolize hours of [John’s] time’ (p.30) and ‘can be a real cornball’ (p.49), which is a big contrast to him calling Betty Crocker his ‘arch nemesis’ (p.48). 
Therefore, John’s dad is an inconvenience, not a threat. John might know intellectually that his dad loves him - ‘the old man really came through this time’ (p.19), as well as the kind fatherly notes left on John’s birthday presents (p.12, p.55) - but I think he can’t make the leap to actually caring about his dad in return or enjoying his company.
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John is a gifted piano player, and gives us a ‘haunting piano refrain’ (p.77). Him being a musician ties back into the act title - ‘the note desolation plays’ uses the language of music, something so often filled with emotion, to describe a lack of it. Given that, of course the piano is monochrome. Perhaps John even sees the piano as the source of his problems, or at least representative of them. 
I noted at the time that it was strange John hadn’t listed piano among his interests when it’s clearly something he’s spent a lot of time on, and now I think it’s something that was taught to him as a kid by either his dad or nanna. He’s good at it, but he’s so disconnected from family life that it no longer brings him any joy, it’s just a hangover from his childhood. ‘Haunting’ makes me think it was his nanna who taught him - now every time John plays, he’s haunted by her memory (or even her literal ghost). Possibly her death is what made John disconnect from the hobby, especially with ‘desolation’ relating to grief.
On page 4, we get our first glimpse of the outside. The blue sky shot through with the brown tree is the largest splash of color in John’s room. The promise of the outside world is extremely colorful, and we know John wants to go there - the window reflected in John’s glasses on page 28 as he grins excitedly is a clear visual indication of that. Yet when we finally see it, the outside isn’t all color - the grass, sky, trees and flowers all are, but the man made aspects such as the driveway, tire swing, and other houses in the neighborhood are gray and dull.
Page 82 gives us the dramatic moment of John removing his clever disguise and gazing up at the sky. It’s the first time we see the sun and the uninterrupted expanse, and it’s framed like it’s significant for John, too. I don’t think it’s literally his first time stepping outside (you can’t tell me his dad didn’t push him on that tire swing as a kid) but I think it’s the moment he realizes that leaving his literal house doesn’t mean he’s not stuck - the neighborhood is just more of the same, and whatever restrictions John’s working within mean he can’t go any further than this. A front yard is legally part of a house, and the reality of the outside doesn’t excite him as much as the idea of it.
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And then there’s the clowns. The one aspect of his dad that really gets John going; the harlequin portraits in the hallway and living room that Dad brought back from clown con are bright, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. Interestingly, the ones in the study are black and white - perhaps John is okay with the clown pictures in the study, because that’s explicitly his dad’s space, but he doesn’t like the ones in the main area, because they make him feel like the house is fully his dad’s, not a shared space they could decorate together. 
This is pure speculation, but I don’t think John has ever moved house. I get the impression that he grew up in this house, which is his dad’s now and was perhaps originally his nanna’s, and has never known a world outside of this specific neighborhood. Because John’s been there since he was born, it’s never crossed his dad’s mind that John might want to, say, put his Little Monsters poster in the living room - hence why that gift was left in John’s bedroom, while the harlequin doll is allowed to be downstairs. 
Speaking of John’s room, it’s definitely not an oasis of color within the house. In our first shot of the room, we see six splashes of color, including the outside and John’s shirt - comparable to the living room (six including John’s shirt and hat) and study (five including the outside and John’s hat). A full three of the colorful elements in John’s room are related to Sburb, which in both the visuals and text is the thing John’s by far the most excited about right now, but I’ll circle back around to this. 
John’s magic chest, magician’s hat, blood capsules, and copies of Colonel Sassacre’s and Wise Guy are all colorful too, but other prank elements - fake arms, beaglepuss, handcuffs, sword, smoke pellets) are all monochrome. This one’s tough, but my best guess is that John feels conflicted about his interest in pranks because it’s so similar to his dad’s interest, and perhaps even that the monochrome items are things John’s dad bought for him for past birthdays and holidays, while the colorful ones are things John got for himself. 
John’s shirt is also worth mentioning here. John’s ambivalence with the house extends to himself, and kids often don’t have a lot of control over their appearance. He probably doesn’t choose his own clothes or glasses or haircut, and he definitely can’t go out and get a tattoo of Slimer or anything like that, so it’s very telling that wearing a shirt with a favorite movie on it is the one way John can actually connect to himself. 
That said, all the movie posters in his room are monochrome, which I’ll again circle back to. One exception is the close up of the Problem Sleuth poster (p.11), which is mostly monochrome, but has four kernels of colorful candy corn. I love this detail so much. It’s a fun reference to Hussie’s previous work and suggests that the candy corn gags in Problem Sleuth are John’s favorite part, which feels right for him. I wonder if John will use candy corn for a prank at some point in reference to this game he likes. I also noticed that the menu bar at the top of the web page also contains four kernels of candy corn - is this just because Problem Sleuth is Hussie’s most notable work, or could it be a clue for Homestuck too?
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The most colorful and complex elements of the comic so far are the screens. We see John’s computer, which as a physical object is monochrome but which lights up to a brightly colored world of chums, flashing programs, desktop icons and stunning feats of graphic design, including things John loves (Slimer) and things that make him boil with rage (coding). We also get to see a very green tinted TV commercial in the living room, and a full color clip of Con Air linked from page 20. 
All this makes me wonder if John’s list of interests is chronological. First on his list (p.4) is ‘really terrible movies’, and many of his favorite titles are from the 1980s and 90s, meaning he probably grew up with them. I think he still loves watching and discussing them, but - given that movies are a fairly passive medium - just the reminder of them on his wall isn’t enough to take him out of his own head anymore. He then got into programming, the paranormal, magic, and video games in sequence, meaning that the final two are his most active interests right now, and the ones to which the most time and color are devoted. In this way, the casual end to the list ‘You also like to play GAMES sometimes’ reads like intentionally downplaying something that’s actually really important, the sarcasm of ‘sometimes’ revealed later when we learn that John has ‘put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles’ (p.31).
Unlike the movie posters, most of the games on John’s CD rack are in color, and unlike movies, games can offer an interactive, immersive experience. Games are enticing to John right now because they’re the best escape from a monotonous, suburban life that John has access to. He’s played his current collection time and time again (to the point that Bard Quest and Problem Sleuth have lost their color), and that’s why he’s so desperate for Sburb to arrive, and why the colorful reminders of Sburb are all over his room.
I think there’s a very real question of whether Sburb will live up to John’s expectations. At only one letter away from Suburb, it’s a clear reminder that video games don’t actually take John away from the life he’s stuck in, they’re a cosmetic alteration at best - and if the themes of the game are too close to John’s real life problems, he won’t find that escapism. So while I’d love to see a version of this comic where John finally starts playing Sburb and the whole screen immediately explodes into color, I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.
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Finally, there’s the meta elements of the story. The captchalogue card overlay and strife specibus are pink and green respectively, and other elements that pop up (indication of whether or not we’ve got John’s name right, the cake turning blue when selected, the blinking green telling us we can put the poster on the wall, etc) are colorful too. The hammer that John allocates to his strife specibus is monochrome, however, which fits really well with John allocating it on TG’s instructions and not knowing that the allocation is permanent. If he’d known, he would have chosen something he felt more strongly about.
Interestingly, the narrative text is black. I still don’t think we’re directly getting John’s perspective, I think that’s been filtered through a specific narrator who has a voice very different to John’s (based on John’s Pesterchum messages), but I don’t think John has any awareness of this. In contrast, he’s all too aware of his captchalogue deck and the artificial, needlessly complex limitations it imposes, and he visually reacts to us getting his name right or wrong. 
If John were to somehow become aware of the narrative text, and have strong feelings about the way he’s being portrayed (or the fact that he’s being written about at all), perhaps it would change color? After all, when John talks to his friends, each of them has a defined color, perhaps relating to the different relationships he has with each friend, and different emotions arising from that. John doesn’t seem to always like his friends - he gets frustrated at the notifications, and spends his whole conversation with TT already trying to leave - but he still replies and actively engages with them, a massive contrast to how he is with his dad. 
‘His riddle is Absence itself.’ (p.82)
To conclude, I do find it interesting that the brightest colors in the comic are the things that are most natural (grass, flowers) and the things that are most artificial (screens, the abstract concept of the inventory) while everything in the middle is black and white. This fits with the idea of color being about both extremes at once, and the idea that John wants a chance to explore both the real and virtual worlds. 
The meta function of color is to make certain visual elements stand out to the audience and tell us they’re worth paying attention to. From a purely functional perspective, it makes sense that the things most important to John would also be highlighted to us. But given the theme of lack and emptiness, the absence of color is just as important. And as the comic is already playing so much with the meta, I think that’s the most helpful starting point for analysis. 
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skrunksthatwunk · 9 days
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found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?
#i didnt really get to process it bc i found out when i was hanging w a friend but. im processing it now#sigh.. i dont know. i dont know.#at the end of the day he is and has always been someone else's cat. i can't control what she does with him#no matter what i think of it. she can always take him away. but every time it happens im just. im tired yknow?#it's worth it to me to have him around. i love him dearly and i want him to be in a home where he's actually cared for (which i have done my#best to provide) but he's just. not mine. and every time it happens i back up and think man. im such a sucker.#i don't think people manipulate me often. not in an ongoing way i mean. i don't think ppl see me as valuable enough to most of the time.#but damn. she really found my weak spots didn't she. free petcare courtesy of one chump who can't live without animals around. sigh#he deserves stability but he deserves love more. this weird shared custody thing is better for him i think. and frankly i also love him.#im not the priority here but my feelings are like. there. him being taken away without even telling me first hurts. i'd like to be able to#say goodbye to him. im not saying he has to stay or this has to go on but couldn't they just.. consider my feelings a bit more?#just bc you're fine with dropping your cat off somewhere for weeks not knowing when you'll see him again and not visiting doesn't mean i am#and i kind of feel like my roommate is part of this. after all it's not like his owner can just break into our room and take him#and if im always out when they do it there's a chance roomie's just shipping him off whenever she gets sick of him.#she's done it before. even after she agreed so vehemently with me about never wanting him to go back to such treatment and stuff early on.#she's been spraying him for little reason lately too. and i mean i get being a little more cautious with some things bc her neck's broken#but she's really fixated on how much he smells and bites and stuff and talks about how if i wasn't around she'd consider eating him#and then other times she's like that's my pookie. i don't get it. like yeah i tell rascal to fuck off sometimes bc he hurts me but it's not#like a hateful thing. i dont resent him for it i'm just annoyed sometimes bc he's maiming me a little. he's my baby. how could i loathe him?#so it makes me think that roomie might be blaming his transfers on his owner bc she doesn't want me to judge her#and like. this is her room too. it's not her fault she's more bothered by the smell than me. if she doesn't want to be bitten and clawed all#the time i can sympathize. i don't wanna force her to house him. but i wish she'd just be honest with me i guess#like. what if his owner decides to give him away without telling me? i'd take him in in a heartbeat. even though i know it's a bad idea.#but i'm worried he'll fall out of my reach completely. and at the very least I'd like to be able to say goodbye first. that's all.
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Alright everyone STOP sending prompts so that she can work through the ones she has already 🙄
(this is a joke)
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#no writing#I have dropped into a deep depression. very serious stuff. watching the first got seasons make me sad. this tv show couldve been the best.#it couldve changed the world and in certain aspects it did#but no. d&d wanted to work on their star wars show or whatever and the long fucking night was reduced to one episode#i watch people talk about the long night in s1 and then I think oh yeah this plot actually had value. the characters were actually scared#and then i watch dany being assulted and i think how she was betrayed by her lover in a moment of intimacy and i am like#oh yeah thats what a great comment a vicitm of abuse dies because she trusts the man she loves#also her transformation into super hitler is ridiculous. tHe BeLls made her mad? what the actual fuck? the bells? seriously?#so targaryans are seriously just a flip of a coin huh? I am the dumb one huh??? thats what youre showing me. you point at the screen and say#HA Cat youre a fool! you rooted for her! you thought she was good!#you thought plot lines and character development actually means something? HA how foolish Cat how dumb you are!#Jamie Lannister? learning about how to care for others? WRONG back to cercei!!!#you think tyrion is smart? WRONG lets put the kids and women in the crypts full of dead people when the bad guy creates zombies#you think dany is actually going to stick to the values shes gotten through her character arc? CAT DONT YOU GET IT? YOURE DUMB YOURE STUPID#JONS HERITAGE DOESNT MATTER#DONT YOU GET IT CAT? EDDARD STARK DIED FOR NOTHING!#ISNT THAT WHAT YOU WANTED? ISNT THAT CINEMA? THE LONG NIGHT? HM? BATTLE OF WINTERFELL? HM? ISNT THAT WHAT YOU WANTED?#no. d&d. this is not what i wanted. in fact. i hate you for ruining a clever show. perhaps the cleverest show on this planet.#i love house of the dragon. but its simply not the same.#this makes me want to quit consuming media#and then i watch chernobyl and i am like. hm. maybe there is hope for cinema and tv#just maybe there is hope for writing. maybe quality is more important than quantity
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Soo thankful my ra is great this year and has both common sense and critical thinking. Genuinely one of my favorite people in college
#i have to unfortunately deal with housing things all I want is to be terminally online again but nooo I got stuff to deal with#my roommate recorded our conversation the other night without my permission which is unfortunately legal in this state#however quite frankly it’s probably better for me that she did bc i handled her meltdown rather well#and god knows she loves to lie. she’s been asked by 2 RAs now for the recording she took#and so far hasn’t given it. so either she lied (shocker) and didn’t actually record it or she knows it makes her look really bad#also fun fact! she had a friend on the phone and I think they were the one recording it. if they were that isn’t legal which I mean#housing wants to kick her out so bad that’d be the final straw#but she decided to demand a roommate agreement change which I’ll happily oblige to so I get to do that at some point#honestly?? girl is digging herself in a hole. p sure her goal was to scare me into just not making sound so we wouldn’t need a meeting?#but like. we gotta meet with the housing coordinator which is great bc they know who she is and how she is#i really don’t think she expected me to go out of my way to get a meeting set up. also?? she gets mad when I’m up til like 2 or later#last night she was up til 7am. I guess only she’s allowed to be a hypocrite lol#objectively all the drama she tries to start should either really anger me or worry me or something at least#nah. this is pretty funny. her entitledness and drama is digging her so far into a hole she’s transferring next semester#and the best part is everyone in housing knows her. can’t stand her shit. i was talking to a friend in class and she tells her friend#her friends like oh who is she? i tell her. she goes oh that explains it. and I’m like oh u know her? and she goes. I’m an ra. i know her#like girl!! if you’re so universally hated why do u keep this up???#like girl will call the ra on call for any minor inconvenience at all#she hasn’t since finding out calls r logged tho lol which is like oh man! u r self aware!#i have no tolerance for bs and man bestie is made of it#cannot wait for this meeting genuinely excited. bc she’s gonna make up stuff that I can easily defend myself. and then she’s gonna#essentially make demands that I can’t make noise after a certain time. and say if anyone agrees it’s discrimination over sensory issues#she’s already said that fun fact. i have sensory issues too. they have equal importance in this agreement#but like. it has to be a fair agreement. and I’m not required to sign another contract#so really she’s going into this meeting to be a problem and she’s gonna crash and burn. it’ll be a firework show#soup talks#watching bestie experience karma in real time
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mejomonster · 1 year
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Enforcing boundaries has only been a positive since learning and practicing. Every relationship that’s good for my life remains good or gets even better, every relationship that’s hurt me either improves or falls away either way leaving a lot of relief and life just becomes a lot less stressful. If you worry you take care of others and forget yourself and don’t want to say no to people even when doing so would help you feel better, if you feel guilty a lot in life over a lot of things, i really think boundaries would help. i promise the good relationships in life will only continue to be good or become better, and the ones that hurt will stop and it will feel better in the long run. 
this article might help but there’s honestly a plethora of info, find explanations that are helpful for you
#rant#anxiety#i know maybe only 1 person will see this who might need it but really. if u do need it. try it#i used to feel guilty and hate myself for just ADMITTING to a friend i had a bad day instead of a good day#which was not healthy for me. and it also didn't help my friends. i THOUGHT it did (hiding pain from them) but friends WANT to know#how you really are and help you the way you help them.#honest communication and honest boundary setting go a LONG way to make good relationships a million times better#and make pained ones either stop hurting or stop being connections in ur life.#if a boundary ruins something then really that thing ruined is probably something that hurt you.#i had a situation with my mom of lifelong codependency. you know how it is lol. i had to go low/no contact#i decided eventually when i was strong enough to accept her anger or disowning me. that i'd set boundaries.#id decided i would NOT let her scream at me or hit me. if she did then i would NOT talk to her.#and it was scary. she did yell. and i had to enforce my boundaries and stop talking to her and not go to her house if she did.#but ultimately you know? she apologized to me. she wanted to be in my life badly enough to stop yelling at me. she has not yelled at me in#over 2 years now. she has not tried to guilt trip me (call me a selfish bitch/horrible person/accuse me of wanting her dead etc) in 1.5 year#because when she did start doing that i'd stop engaging and enforce my boundaries. im not talking to people who treat me that way.#it is absolutely mindboggling to me. that now i can call my mom and Actually ask for help. that i can feel even 70% certain#she wont say something so cruel i end up feeling suicidal.#its absolutely mindblowing i can call her for help now. i can rely on her and even somewhat trust her now.#i can say i love you on the phone and know i mean it now. know i don't hate her now.#because i Let myself hate her. i let myself hate the cruel things she did and i decided i wasn't#going to  be in her life if she did them. and she decided she cared about me enough to Stop doing them.#it was also good for her. because back in my guilt state i felt she couldnt fend without me (i know i was wrong lol)#but when i stopped dropping everything for her? she learned to reach out to friends and form a support network#she learned to ask for help respectfully to people. to do things on her own that she could. to TALK to her other loved ones#when sad instead of bottling it until she wanted to die and yelling at others. she started some self work for her own mental health.#not because i told her or tried codependently to push her to help herself. no. she did it because the consequences of her actions happened.#she was cruel to her kid so her kid didn't let her be. and she wanted to be with her kid so she worked on changing.#shes still working on it but i am still honestly shocked. id been prepared to never see her again if it had to happen after boundaries.#i had abusive romantic relationships and. none of them would've changed to be better for me. they would've left me
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problemswithbooks · 1 year
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Not going to lie it's a little weird to see people who are huge fans of the Targaryens try and down play the bad stuff they did.
Like when they say they didn't colonize Westeros they just conquered it. As if that's any better.
By definition, no the Targaryens didn't colonize Westeros, but that's less because they were so much better than the First Men or Andals and more because they simply couldn't. The Valyrians did colonize the places they conquered in Essos, but by the time Aegon crowned himself King of Westeros all but his family remained of the pure blooded Valyrians.
They couldn't colonize in the traditional sense of the word because there were only a handful of them left--not a large scale population that could come and take over all the lands and Houses of Westeros.
But that doesn't mean conquest is better. It's still subjugating and controlling people with military force.
It's also weird when they argue that Westeros did better under the Targaryens so actually the conquest was good. Did Westeros have some really despicable policies or constant fighting, sure, but a country--or a batch of countries, having bad morals or infighting doesn't give someone else the right to take them over and instill themselves as King. That is the kind of excuse the US uses all the time and every thinks that's pretty shit.
But the prophecy? What about that?
Well, it's honestly kind of stupid, or in the very least makes Aegon and any of his family that heard it look stupid. If he legitimately had a dream of the world ending unless one of his family had their ass on a united Westeros throne it was brain-dead not to flaunt that like no tomorrow. In world where there's magic and dragons, where the Targaryens already saved themselves from the Doom of Valyria a hundred years prior there would be no reason for Westeros to believe it.
I'm sure some of the Lords would have still resisted regardless, but it still would have made it much easier for the Targaryens over all to rule if the entire country was under the impression they needed to be in charge to save the world. Heck, it also might have put a damper on some of the later infighting like the Dance if everyone had known. Could it have caused some problems, sure, but concealing from everyone but the heir is dimwitted simply because they could easily be killed off before passing it on.
But even if Aegon thought he needed to be King of Westeros to save the world that doesn't mean his conquest was good. If that was the case the Andals taking over Westeros from the First Men was justified to because they believed it was their promised land. Or were desperate to escape slavery under the Valyrians. But of course neither of those is a good excuse to subjugate an entire continent.
Another talking point is to point out that the real colonizers are the First Men and Andals not the Targaryens. As I said before that doesn't quite hold up because it's very likely given how they took over Essos that had more than a handful of Valyrians survived the doom they would have colonized Westeros or at least continued to colonize Essos.
On top of that the First Men colonized Westeros somewhere between 8,000 to 12,000 years ago, and eventually made peace with the Children of the Forest, worshiping their Gods, learning from them and all of them coming together to build the Wall. The Andals came to Westeros, at the earliest 2,000 years ago and colonized both the First Men and the Children of the Forest.
Meanwhile, by the time of Aegon's conquest of Westeros the Valyrians had only been gone a hundred years. Aegon was far more closely related to colonizers then the ancestors of the First Men and Andals that lived in Westeros when he conquered it. So to act as if it's only the Westerosi that have the blood of colonizers in their veins just isn't true. The Targaryens do to and it's much more recent.
And this isn't me saying the Targaryens are evil. The First Men and the Andals have some really awful stuff in their history, and even during the main books do some horrendous stuff. No one in this book series or the TV shows it's based on are entirely clean of fault or even unforgivable stuff like genocide, slavery or colonization.
My point isn't that the Targs are so much worse then the rest of the Houses in Westeros. Just like every other House they have good and bad members. And even the good ones have done terrible things while the worst of the worst sometimes do very very heroic things.
I don't like the argument that simply by being a Targaryen a character is bad or doomed or should fail. But that doesn't mean pretending the House is actually perfect and if they did something bad, like conquering a country and subjugating it's people under a Ruler they didn't want it's fine, plus those people actually deserved it because 2,000 years ago they did evil stuff themselves.
#hotd#GoT#I don't like people hating on the Targs for stuff they didn't do#or being harsher on their past stuff#but giving other Houses a pass#but I also don't like the whitewashing of them either#especially the way some people do it#like bringing up the Andals or the First Men in contrast to the Targaryens#like no the Targaryens don't necessarily fall under colonizer lab when it comes to Westeros#but if we're going back as far as the First Men or even the Andals to call them colonizers#then so are the Targaryens#it also makes them slavers since I'm sure someone in their family owned slaves given Valyria's entire culture and structure ran on them#i mean it's not as if they left Valyria because they didn't approve of their ways#they just didn't want to die#maybe saying that these set of people were colonizers 8000-2000 years ago isn't a great argument when the people your defending were#colonizers 100 years ago#also it always bothers me when someone tries to defend a bad act by saying the people deserved it or it was actually good for them#like I don't count Dany in Essos because she legitimately wants to free slaves plus she has lived there in various places most of her life#like it seems the vast majority of people (being slaves) want her as Queen#so it's not even conquering#at least for most the population#but Aegon didn't take over Westeros because he wanted to stop the Night of First Right#or because the suffering of the common folk spoke to him#and i haven't seen anything saying most people were enthusiastic to have the dragon lords taking over as the slavers were to have Dany
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im2tired4usernames · 5 months
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I want their fuckin freedom they have no chores no responsibility they can go out with their friends when ever they want for however long they want they can sleep in there bed all day they eat drink drive vehicles use the phone have a home with no bills no expenses they can spend their money on stupid things that bring them joy with no worry of the gas they burned in someone else's vehicle or if there's dinner at home they have no worries about laundry no worries about dishes no worries about the messes they make because they know I'll clean it up always I want to be viewed by my family and by my friends as someone who is an actual person with limits and boundaries and who has goals and dreams they'd like to accomplish in the day besides laundry for 16 people and not a tireless cleaning machine. I want to be able to rest and have hobbies I want to be able to do things with my partner and my friends again I want to be able to fuckin daydream and make up stories again for Christ sake I want to feel like a person and not a corpse forced into playing "tradwife" I want the freedom they all have while I'm in the background doin they're dishes.
#i don't mind helping with chores but it's the fact I'm the only one qnd i can get my four youngest to help me with bribes of sweets#but there's several adults living here who don't care that they make. more mess then a four year old#and could definitely start doin their own laundry#or take the trash out if it's full instead of cramming more into it so that the bag splits and is to heavy for me to lift#and I'm actually kinda strong like I've def lost a lot of energy n strength this year tbh but this bitch can lift pretty heavy boxes at work#and i split logs pretty regularly so im not the strongest gal by no means like of lord i had to carry my mother around everywhere#because she was a stubborn asshole who refused to use any mobility aids and then wanted to go shopping or go out and i had to just carry her#like i can carry an adult women but fuck if it didn't hurt me bad doin it and i had to stop several times to catch my breath#like I'm not super Strong but I'm not weak the trashbag cant weigh more then an adult#it takesn nothing to rinse a bowl out so your food don't turn into cement#or throw away the wrappers of your bandaids instead of tossing them on the floor#or wipe your shoes before you come in and track big chunks of dried mud and grass all over the home#my parents wanted 12 kids wnd our house to look like a magazine and they beat that mentality of the house must be clean as a whistle#because what if Jesus was to stop by we must have our home look so clean that we would be unashamed if jesus stopped#so clean we encourage him to look in cupboards and under the bed clean#i dont think that's a Bible verse but there was a biblical book that was all about having a home that was so clean constantly#just so you wouldn't be ashamed when Christ cand because cleanliness is closer to godliness#i really hate my mother like so much I'm glad i can finally say it I'm glad i don't have to work to earn her love or buy it#you shouldn't have to have to earn love especially from your parents I'm glad she can't constantly condemn me#i have nightmares about my mom condemning me or being smug n proud and ruining my life in the name of her cult#like throwing away all of my belongings and only having a bed a Bible some christan fiction four floor length Jean dresses baggy tshirts#also her giving my sister she favored a bunch of my organs since I'm broken anyhow and slowly dieing because i don't have a liver anymore#or her ruining my relationship and friendships because she didn't think they were godly enough so i have no one in my life except church#she tried to have an arranged marriage for me not a dream that happened#i know she loved me i hate that i think so low of her but her love felt like hate most of the time#i know she loved me though andni love her to I'm just glad i don't have to constantly hve to perform for her#i have so much garbage in my brain
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riality-check · 8 months
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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.
"You're not going."
"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"
"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."
"Steve-"
"And if you throw up in my car-"
"Oh my God-"
"I'll kill you."
Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.
"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.
He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.
"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.
"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.
"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.
He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.
(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)
"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.
"You baited me into it."
"I did no such thing."
Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"
Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."
"Sorry dude."
"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."
Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.
"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"
"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."
"All I'm saying-"
"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."
Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.
"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.
"Five more minutes," Anna tries.
"Nope. Clean up and roll out."
"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.
"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"
Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"
"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.
"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."
Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.
Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.
But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.
Success by all metrics, really.
Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.
They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.
He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.
The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.
At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:
Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.
-Eddie
Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-
Hang on.
He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-
No way. No way in hell.
It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-
"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.
Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.
Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.
"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."
Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.
"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."
Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.
"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"
Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.
"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."
At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.
Because what the fuck is happening right now?
His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.
Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.
Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.
When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.
"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.
"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.
The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.
And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.
Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.
Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.
Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.
He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.
Sweet Jesus.
"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"
The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.
Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"
"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"
"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.
"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."
"How do you even-"
"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"
Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.
"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."
"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."
"Well, I have it now."
"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.
"He left me his number on the seat."
"Text him."
"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."
Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."
"Have you looked at him?"
"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."
"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."
"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.
"Text-"
Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"
"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.
"I bought them."
She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."
Steve stares. She stares right back.
He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.
With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:
I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.
Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?
Part 3!!
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leclercstars · 4 months
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lando fic🙏🙏 size kink and pushing down on her lower stomach while he's inside!!?
Obsessed with this one. This might be my fave thing I've ever written so thank you to whoever requested this.
house of balloons.
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Lando Norris x Reader
Warnings: 18+!! smut, hate sex, slight degradation and dom!Lando, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex.
“Get a grip,” you snapped as you strutted away from the bar. Now you had to wait to get another vodka lemonade. There was a viciousness to everything about you in that moment, from your facial expression to the way you sat and rejoined your friend group.
“What was that?” your best friend knew everything about your life, and you knew she was asking just to get a rise out of you.
“What do you fucking think? I thought him and his friends had stopped going here.”
“Well breaking news: that is not the case,” one of your other friends chuckled. 
“Ugh, I just cannot deal with this tonight,” you sat back in the the booth and groaned, pulling out your phone in hopes of avoiding more conversation about the topic.
“I should start making you that angry more often.” read the text that suddenly lit up your screen.
You hated Lando, and he hated you right back. Ever since freshman year you could not stand his “holier than thou” level arrogance and the way he always had to find a way to push your buttons in whatever setting you two were in. From class, to the bar all the way to the time you two ended up in the therapy waiting room together. 
“Okay Lando pls stfu. Dealing with you tonight was enough.” You had gotten into a heated argument with him in the bar, which you suddenly could not remember the subject of, pondering his last text in your head.
“I think I know how to fix our little problem”
What could he possibly mean by that. No way was he about to suggest sex.
“And what might that be?” you chuckled to yourself, noticing that your friends were peering over at your phone screen. Little snoops.
“Let’s leave.” Yep, there it was. He thinks fucking will somehow be the answer to your now four-year battle with each other. You had made each other’s lives a living hell. One time you fought so bad you both started crying, in public. Not the finest moment for either of you. But you thought more and more about his proposition. Sometimes he stared at you a little too long when you wore one of your skimpy going out tops, especially that lace corset, which of course you happened to be wearing tonight. He stood a little close to you to whisper insults in your ear, and occasionally slid a hand to the small of your back when you were standing next to each other. Maybe this was the answer. Besides, hate sex actually sounded kind of fun. 
“If you really want to do this then come over to the booth and I’ll get up and leave with you.” If this was really his master plan, you were going to make sure everyone knew about it. You weren’t gonna let him get away with lying about this little inchident later. It took him less than 2 minutes to appear at your table, hand extended towards you, a mischievous look painted all over his face.
“See ya around!” he waved to your friends as he dragged you out the bar.
“I better be getting a text about this later” you looked back at your friends' aghast expressions. They were looking at you as if you had just been shot through the head.
It didn’t take long to get to Lando’s shitty college house. You argued the whole way there. You almost shoved him in front of a moving car on accident. Maybe that would make the sex better.
He led you up to his bedroom, a surprisingly gentleman-ly gesture. The only light came from the dim glow of his computer monitor, casting a red ambiance over the entire room. How perfect, you thought.
“Let’s just get all that anger out, huh?”
“Worth a shot.” you smirked before inching closer and closer to him. The space between you two held so much tension, a pit of horniness, rage and frustration. He grabbed your face with both hands, his lips crashing into yours. You had never kissed someone with this much passion before. Neither of you knew how to keep your hands to yourself, but why bother. His hands explored every single inch of you, places that very few people had ever touched. He had already unhooked your bra effortlessly, your soft tits pressing against his chiseled chest. Fuck, he actually was kind of sexy all this time. He started gently biting your lower lip, causing you to moan into him. You could not be the only one moaning in this situation, so naturally you started palming his growing erection over his boxers. 
“Shit,” he whispered softly before groaning, his lips never leaving your face. There was a neediness, a hunger to the way you were touching each other. An intensity, a fury, and unfortunately one of the most erotic things you had ever experienced. 
He picked you up and threw you back onto the bed, the harshness of it turning you on even more.
You covered your pussy with your hands- giggling. You couldn’t help it, teasing him felt like the right thing to do in this scenario.
“Oh that’s not gonna work. I’m gonna fuck that little attitude right out of you.”
“I’d like to see you fucking try, pal.” your sly expression just making him angrier and angier.
He pinned your hands above your head as you laughed, loving that he was really taking it as a challenge. He slid his boxers off with his free hand.
Holy fuck. You had NEVER seen a dick that big. He was absolutely massive. Your confidence faltered for just a second, thinking that even though he was so much larger than you in stature, his dick could not have been that exceptional. But boy were you fucking wrong.
He gave you half at first, watching the way your face contorted as you adjusted to the feeling of him filling you up. He didn’t let you get comfortable for long, sliding the rest in as you shouted his name, probably waking the entire neighborhood up. Whoops.
“This might be the only time I ever get you to submit to me like this. Fuck you look hot when you’re being a good girl.”
You were going to fight back more- but those words made you want to listen to anything he told you to do for the rest of eternity. After two sickeningly slow thrusts, he started pounding into you. That attitude you had earlier had completely left the room, probably the stratosphere too. His dick felt like nothing you had ever taken before, nearly hitting your cervix with every pump in and out. It unfortunately was not going to take long for you to orgasm, as much as you wanted to hold out so you could keep experiencing this feeling. The feeling you never thought the guy you hated could give you. Pure and utter ecstasy. The alcohol flowing through your veins had you putting on quite the performance, moaning just as loud as Lando, tossing your head back and creating large claw marks along his back.
He thrusted deep into you- holding himself there. He made eye contact with you, his eyes low and filled with a fiery lust you had never seen before. He pressed against your lower stomach and holy fuck- you could not believe this was real.
“You feel that? That’s my fucking cock all the way inside you. You’re being such a good little slut taking me like this.”
You never wanted that feeling in your stomach to go away.
He pressed down again, shooting waves of pleasure through you that made your vision start to blur. Were you going to orgasm when he wasn’t even fucking you? 
“That’s enough of that, can’t make you feel too good.” he winked as he started fucking you again, bringing you right to the brink of an orgasm.
“Fuck Lando, you’re gonna make me cum.” He grabbed your throat.
“I’m gonna cum too. Look at me baby, I want us to remember exactly what we’re doing to each other.”
You never broke eye contact as you both lost control, his forehead pressed against yours as loud moans filled the room.
“That might be the only good idea you’ve ever had.” you laughed as he cleaned you both off.
“Of course that’s what you say right after I fucked the shit out of you.”
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pseudowho · 3 months
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Thinking about...
...long-term 'too comfortable' relationships with the JJK guys, when all the weird/gross/silly things creep in.
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Pinning Gojo Satoru against a wall, having spotted an enormous pimple on his chin that you just have to get: "there's nothing wrong with m-- how dare you-- ow ow ow get off me--" "don't be such a melt, Satoru, keep still, that absolutely cannot stay on your face--"
Sitting on the toilet and chatting with Nanami Kento while he showers, and he wordlessly hands you a fresh toilet roll from the cabinet while he brushes his teeth; "thank you Kento" "mmmmmhm" and you continue chatting while you pee, leaving the bathroom door open. You forget to get off the toilet, so he brings you your tea there, while you continue to tell him about your day.
Laughing at Geto Suguru as he steps out of the bathroom after a bit of manscaping; "no no no-- go and get your razor, you're all patchy" "ah shit, really?" "yeah, you look like you've got a really bad gardener" "at least I try to trim the hedges..."
Plucking Fushiguro Toji's back hairs out one at a time; "OW-- dammit woman, stop doin' it like you hate me--" "--look, if you keep getting hairier, I'll just wax you instead, you're such a bear--" "--alright alright, I'll get your little witchy chin hair after--" "hey!"
Calling out to Okkotsu Yuuta while you're stuck on the toilet, blood over your hands and panties; "hey, Yuuta! Can you grab me some new underwear, and a pad?" "Sure!" Yuuta shuffles back to you, unfazed, as you hand him your bloodied panties to put in the laundry basket, "that bad, huh? You got enough stuff to last you?" "actually, I might need you to run to the shops..."
Creeping up behind Zenin Maki while she washes her bras in the sink, dropping a few of your own ones in, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek; "hey, hey, I'm not your washer woman" "yeah you are, such a beautiful washer woman" "psh...you're doing them next time"
Takuma Ino smiling as you curl on the sofa beside him in slummy old pyjamas full of holes (an ancient t-shirt of his, joggers you've had for at least ten years...), and you let out a fart; "sorry, sorry..." "don't be, I know you can do better than that" and Takuma lets one rip himself, sighing with relief.
Dropping your toothbrush down the toilet at Higuruma Hiromi's house; "ah, shit!" "oh, damn...just use mine" "eurgh, I'm not doing that!" "darling, be reasonable, I eat your pussy, we share much more--" "that's different--" "well by all means then, my love, enjoy your toilet toothbrush..."
Catching Todo Aoi taking a swig of milk out of the carton; "get a glass, jesus!" "whatever babe, it's just me and you here" "that is disgusting, unsanitary" "oh? I'll show you disgusting and unsanitary...c'mere"
When Kugisaki Nobara steps out of the bedroom, wearing your panties; "hey, they're my favourite!" "well they're my favourite too..." "yeah, on me! Get them off-- get back here--" and you dart after her, Nobara laughing as you try to pull your underwear off her, "help, help, I'm being assaulted!"
Catching Itadori Yuuji giving himself a scratch and sniff; "you absolute goblin-- go wash your hands!" Yuuji darts after you, laughing, his hand outstretched as you screech, ducking and running past him; "what, this hand? Come back baby! Where you goin'?"
Telling Fushiguro Megumi every single time you need to poop; "pause the movie! Gotta go poop," and he absolutely returns the favour, sitting on the toilet while you're taking a bath , "I'd wait...but I can't" "alright alright, just don't stink the place out" "I don't make promises I can't keep"
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solarmorrigan · 1 year
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See, just because Steve lets Eddie and the kids play D&D at his house now doesn't mean he's really interested in the game, just the same as even though El and Max sometimes tag along, they're really there to hang out, not play. They each bring their own things to do, and one night El brings a ball of yarn and a shiny little metal hook and a vaguely rectangular yarn-thing that she focuses very hard on while the boys shout in the background.
Steve has no idea what she's doing; he'd say she's knitting, except he's almost certain that involves some kind of sticks, not a hook. But since he's not really doing anything himself, he sits down next to her and asks what she's up to.
"Joyce has been teaching me how to crochet. She says it will help with my hand-eye coordination." El holds up her project with a proud smile. "I am starting with a scarf."
It's not the world's most attractive scarf, but it's not like Steve could do better. He's still not entirely sure what crocheting is, to be perfectly honest. "Is that different from knitting?" he asks.
El nods gravely. "It is," she says, and takes to showing him how she loops the yarn over the hook and pulls it through the stitches in her scarf and adds a few more inches to the row she's working on.
When Steve's attention doesn't completely wane during her demonstration, she pulls a second ball of yarn out of her bag and presents it to Steve.
"Oh, I don't–" Steve tries to demur, but El is determined, and Steve has seen entire dimensions pale in the face of her determination.
This is how he finds himself crocheting a little chain of stitches with just his fingers, the same way Joyce had apparently started El off. El beams at him and returns to her own project, occasionally checking on his progress. The chain is a few feet long by the time everyone needs to be driven home, and Steve decides it actually hadn't been a bad way to pass the time. Kind of relaxing.
The next time everyone is over, El sits down with her scarf, and after a short while, Steve sits down next to her. He compliments how much longer the scarf has gotten (and it does seem like the shape has evened out a bit as she's been going along). She smiles and pulls another ball of yarn out of her bag. This time, she has an extra hook and seems intent on showing Steve what to do with it.
Almost involuntarily, Steve's attention flashes to the group clustered around the table, hesitating to take the yarn from El, and she frowns.
"Joyce says these types of skills are important for everyone to have," El says firmly, and, well– Steve's not really going to argue.
He learns how to crochet a chain with the hook. It feels odd in his hands at first—the shape too small, the metal a little too slick, the yarn not wrapping naturally around his fingers the way it does El's—but he gets the hang of it. When El is pleased with his progress, she shows him the stitch she's been using: a simple single crochet. It's tougher than it looks, and Steve understands immediately why El's scarf is so uneven; neither of them have ever done anything like this before.
Still, he doesn't hate it.
In fact, he really kind of enjoys it.
He enjoys it enough that he asks El to show him more the next time she's over. She's still new herself and is really only working with pretty much the same couple of stitches, but she proudly teaches him what she knows, and Steve picks it up as fast as she's able to lay it down.
Steve goes out and buys his own supplies, no longer content with mooching off of El's. He hadn't realized there were so many different kinds of yarn, and resigns himself to awkwardly asking one of the craft store employees what type might be best for beginners.
The employee—a woman about his mother’s age with a much warmer smile and far less judgement in her eyes—explains with great enthusiasm what all those different types of yarn might be used for, and how the size of the hook affects the outcome of the project, and shows him so many different pattern books his head spins. He realizes that she probably upsells him on a lot of shit, but he leaves with a few different sizes of hooks, some new yarn, and more excitement for a hobby than he's felt probably since high school.
El and Robin are the only ones who know about his new hobby, of course. It's not really that he's ashamed to tell the others, he just knows how teenage boys work and he's not keen on giving a bunch of fifteen-year-olds another reason to bully him. Maybe in a few months. In the meantime, he crochets at home while he's listening to the radio or watching TV, and he crochets at work during down times. Robin finds his newfound hobby morbidly fascinating, but vehemently denies any and all offers to teach her.
("I will find a way to damage myself with that hook and I think we both know that," she says. "It's just kind of wild to see you with a grandma hobby."
Steve threatens to tell El she called it that, and Robin shortly finds a new label for it.)
Fall rolls around and the air acquires a chill sometime in mid-October. Steve's been making practice scarves for a little while now (largely because he really only knows how to make rectangles at this point, but he doesn’t have the attention span for a whole blanket just yet), and he even considers wearing his least heinous attempt despite the fact he's never really wanted for good winter clothes. Then he notices Eddie.
Most of their little group has begun dressing appropriately for the weather, but Eddie doesn't do much more than add a pair of fingerless black gloves and maybe a heavier leather jacket to his ensemble. Steve's not even sure it's because he can't afford it – he's pretty sure it's because Eddie is committed to his aesthetic. Nancy had tried to force an extra scarf on him one day after a little cold snap, when they'd woken to frost on the ground (the scarf is blue, patterned with white snowflakes; it's actually Mike’s, but Mike is also refusing to wear it and Steve suspects Nancy doesn’t want to hold it, but also doesn’t want to get in trouble for letting Mike lose it), but Eddie had declined, insisting it doesn't match his vibe.
Steve can respect this. He himself has a certain aesthetic going on. However, he can also see that Eddie is definitely cold, and that just won't do.
He picks through the scarves and other various wooly things he's accumulated so far, but decides none of them would suit Eddie and, besides that, none of them are really warm enough. If he's going to make Eddie a scarf, it ought to be a good one.
So Steve sucks it up and heads into Melvald's one day when he knows Joyce will be on shift, hoping she won't be too busy for a quick chat.
When he catches her, Steve explains that El had shown him the basics of crocheting but that his ambitions have outgrown his skills and maybe if she isn't too busy sometime, Joyce would be willing to show him a little more?
Joyce, because she’s a saint, says she would be delighted, and invites Steve to come over on their next shared day off.
When he gets there, she tries to ask him who he's making the scarf for, and the best he manages is, "...someone."
Joyce bites down on a smile. "Someone?"
"It's a surprise," Steve finally declares.
"For everyone?"
"Yes."
Joyce bravely manages to not laugh at Steve and instead asks him what kind of scarf he thinks Someone would like.
Steve decides that it needs to be thick, but it should also be soft. It should also be textured, because Ed– because Someone really likes fiddling with things. He can't get too ambitious with colors or patterns, but he decides that black and grey stripes will be perfectly suitable.
(He doesn't kid himself into thinking that by the time their brainstorming session is over, Joyce hasn't figured out exactly who he's talking about, but she's kind enough not to say it out loud.)
Steve's always been good with repetition and patterns—it's probably one of the reasons he’d found crocheting so relaxing in the first place—and he picks up the new stitches with ease under Joyce's deft instruction. She sends him home with the practice piece he'd made with some of her scrap yarn, and after a quick stopover at the craft store on his way home (he briefly gets stuck between shades of grey, but eventually decides on the silvery one over the steely one), he's ready to begin.
He expects making the scarf to be tougher, but once he gets into the rhythm of it, he sails right through. It takes him less than a week (albeit devoting a few solid hours to it every day, possibly more on his days off) to end up with what is, if he may say so himself, a pretty fine scarf.
The challenge comes in actually giving it to Eddie.
Christmas would be an excellent excuse for presenting it to him, except that's a little over a month away, and Steve doesn't want Eddie to go cold until then. Instead, he takes to keeping the scarf in his glove compartment just in case the perfect occasion for giving Eddie a scarf arises.
And much to Steve's surprise, one actually does.
It's right after the first real snow, and Steve has insisted on driving to pick Eddie up so they can hang out (Steve has nightmares about Eddie's driving when road conditions are optimal, never mind when the roads may be icy). He can see Eddie shivering under his jacket, blowing warm air into his cupped hands (Steve wonders if he could learn how to crochet gloves at some point, too. Ones with full fingers), so he ever-so-casually gestures to the glove box and tells Eddie, "Hey, if you're cold, I've got an extra scarf in there."
He's possibly not as casual as he hopes he is (or maybe Eddie just sees through him, like he always seems to), because Eddie gives him a look. "You do, huh?"
"Yep."
Steve concentrates very hard on the road in order to avoid Eddie's eyes. It doesn't stop him from hearing the little laugh Eddie lets out before popping open the glove compartment.
"Oh," Eddie says quietly as he pulls the scarf out, likely having been expecting another castoff piece of outerwear. "This is... actually really nice."
For a moment, Steve can't help but glance over to see the way Eddie is fingering the crocheted ridges of the scarf, running a thumb over the bright silver stripes picked out of the black, and he immediately looks back up at the road.
"Yeah. You should– you can, uh. Keep it. If you want," he says, and wonders what happened to the days when he was smooth.
"No, man, this is, like, for real nice. I couldn't take this," Eddie says, though he's still holding the scarf in his lap.
Steve draws a breath in. "I mean, I was kind of hoping you would, since it's for you."
"Seriously?"
They have unfortunately arrived at Steve's house at this point, and there will be no avoiding the conversation now.
"Yeah," Steve says. "I, uh. Made it for you. So you should take it. Don't let my hard work go to waste, yeah?"
"You're shitting me," Eddie unfolds the scarf and holds it up in delighted scrutiny. "You made this?"
(Distantly, Steve appreciates that the emphasis isn't on "you made this?" Like Eddie doesn't immediately doubt he's capable, only that he's holding a handmade item at all.)
"Yeah. No big deal." Steve shrugs.
"You made this for me." Eddie looks at Steve, and it sounds like that had been meant as a question, though it comes out in flat uncertainty.
"Yeah. Just noticed you were cold, but you won't wear anything that doesn't match your aesthetic," Steve tries to tease, wiggling his fingers at Eddie's outfit, but Eddie doesn't say anything in return.
He doesn't say anything for just long enough that Steve gets insecure all over again, reaching hesitantly for the scarf.
"But, I mean, if that's weird, or whatever, you don't have to-"
"Nope. Fuck off, I'm wearing this forever." Eddie loops the scarf quickly around his neck and squeezes the ends in his hands. "Jesus, this is soft."
Steve grins. "I'm not sure it'll last forever, but I can make you another after than one wears out."
"You'd better," Eddie says, and he's grinning too. "So, what, you knit?"
Steve points a very serious finger into Eddie's face. "Crochet. There's a difference," he says sternly.
Then, because he can't help it, he bops the end of Eddie's nose before getting out of the car, leaving Eddie to scramble out behind him, laughing and calling him a dork as he goes.
(The kids, incidentally, don't tease Steve nearly as much as he'd thought they would when they find out.
This is possibly because they're more mature than he gave them credit for, but more likely it’s because El is standing beside him and daring them to say anything unfavorable about their shared hobby.
Mostly they just let it slide, though Dustin demands to know why Eddie got a scarf and he didn't. Then Lucas wants one, too, because Mike and Max have already received various bits of outerwear from El, and he's not about to be left out. And then Robin, of course, will want to know why Steve hasn’t made her anything, once she finds out that he’s making things for the kids.
Steve resigns himself to a busy winter spent under a pile of yarn.
It's not really a hardship.)
[Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]
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1nyourdr34ms · 2 months
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baby, you're so mean
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+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: mark x virginfem!reader
synopsis: you and mark know each other since middle school, but you always thought of him as a loser and he hated you for that. one day you meet again as college students, but mark is and looks completely differently which gets you confused until you realize you're head over heels for him.
genres: smut (!), enemies to lovers
warnings: fem!reader wears revealing clothes, mark is kinda bad here (at least his point of view to some topics), he smokes, unprotected sex (BUT YOU PROTECT. PLEASE. ALWAYS!), toxic kinda relationship, vulgar language
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mark and you have known each other since you were fresh teens. he is and was always too aware of your beauty and attractiveness. he knows exactly how you can light up the room when you smile. that radiant smile of yours... mark also knows how much you love lemon cake, and has noticed your sadness when someone is treated unfairly.
but beyond that, and he is all too aware of this, he has intensely studied your body. he has attentively observed how your juicy butt sway sensually when you did rope jumping in front of him in gym class. or how seductive your cleavage always looks when you bend over to get a notebook from your bag.
were you a girl that all the boys in school dreamed of? definetely.
were you a girl that mark dreamed of as a love interest? not exactly.
despite all these enticing observations, mark could never really stand you. your mothers were good friends, and you were neighbors since childhood, meaning you have actually known each other forever.
but you never truly paid him any attention. no matter how friendly he was to you, you were mostly reserved in his presence. a friendly smile was the most you would give. and even worse, at school, you acted as if you didn't know each other at all, although you practically grew up together. you treated him as if he were invisible.
instead, you gave your attention to the 'hotter' and 'more popular' boys in your class or school. at least, that was marks perception. with them, you act entirely different than you would be with him. you were popular, had excellent grades, and got on well with everyone, but never gave mark a bit of your attention. more than enough reasons, why he hated you!
after graduation, family lee, decided to move to another city which was 25 miles away from your house. for them, it was professionally advantageous, as mrs. lee had found a more promising position in her field, and mark became the opportunity to go to the university he had desired.
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it was a mild summer evening when you went down the stairs to the living room and found that your mother was not there. you looked out the window and saw your mother talking to mrs. lee, while mark was loading suitcases into his car. then it struck you like a bolt of lightning: mrs. lee said goodbye to your mother for good.
you rushed to the porch to join the farewell. 'i am terribly sorry, mrs. lee. i completely forgot that you were leaving tonight,' you explained with a concerned smile.
mrs. lee smiled broadly. 'no problem, dear. we're still here,' she reassured you. you hugged her warmly, while mark only received a blunt 'take care, mark' from a distance from you. you didn't even look to his direction properly.
'what a...', mark thought, and hurried to the driver's seat of his car, before he could think about it for too long.
to him, you were just a... well, a 'bitch', a 'hoe' whatever. one who sought the attention of boys, who hung around and slept with the biggest idiots of the school.
he didn't deny that he found you beautiful and attractive, but you were and would never be more valuable to him.
the only thing that connected you both was your mothers. apart from that, you were fundamentally different as individuals.
he came from an educated, wealthy household, while you in your childhood hoped that your mother had enough money to visit an amusement park next month.
thanks to your mother's promotion at her job, you reached a turning point in your life. just before high school, everything changed for you both. you moved to a new area, bought a house, your mother had a successful career, you did super well in school, and now you live happily together.
mark couldn't help but feel a deep aversion to the indifference you had shown him, an ignorance that offended his ego and challenged his pride at the same time.
he sat in the driver's seat of his car and waited for his mother. he allowed himself a glance in the rearview mirror to watch you. despite his hatred, he found it difficult to resist your seductive aura.
he saw the way your hair fell playfully around your shoulders every time you tilted your head, the slight sparkle in your eyes that remained alive even in your absence, the way your smile warmed the surrounding atmosphere, the way your breasts moved slightly up and down every time you made short jumps of excitement, the way your waist line was in perfect proportion to your wide, defined hips.
the view of you was torture for him because, for the young man, you were something he deeply desired but loathed on principle.
as mark's mother got into the car, he started the engine, took one last look at you, and drove away, unaware that your paths would cross again in an unexpected turn.
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you never saw mark again after that - which was lucky for you because you actually hated him!
he was the perfect neighbor kid that your mom compared you to. she would always say things like "look, mark got an a in chemistry class, i expect the same from you…" or "mark is such a smart guy, he got his driver's license at his first try…" or "oh, mark is such a sweet child and accompanies her mom to church every sunday… you should take an example of him."
an example from the boring, loser boy… yeah, sure, mum.
she was only obsessed with mark because he was her bestie's boy. otherwise, he wouldn't have been an issue in your family at all and you would surely have had your peace of mind.
so good for you that the alleged perfect boy, who in reality was nothing but a boring, unattractive loser, finally disappeared from your neighborhood.
let's switch to today, 5 years later, a lot has changed in your life over the past few years.
you are about to graduate from university with a degree in bioengineering and are just a few steps away from moving to a big city, you have been dreaming of since forever, and starting a new, free, independent life.
unfortunately, for your liking, this small, dull town limited your opportunities and potential to do more with your life.
a big city should change this obstacle.
so your dream was to rent a cute little apartment, find a job with excellent pay, meet the love of your life, and start a family.
you were a romantic at heart. even if it was hard to believe from the outside because everyone rather thought of you as a hoe - which you were completely aware of.
but you were also a girl, who believed in true love and the magic of starting your own family.
sadly, you haven't had much luck in your love life so far because most of the male species in your life only wanted to fuck your body.
accordingly, there was no suitable male with whom you could experience your first, real relationship. there was also no one with whom you could experience your first time in bed, which you wanted it to be special.
yep. surprise, surprise! the super-hot girl with the super-hot, sex-appealing figure from school was actually something between a virgin and a celibate!
of course nobody knew.. you were outstanding at making out, not shy to let your breasts get sucked or eagerly suck their dick, so nobody really questioned it.
whenever it was close for the male to stick his dick into you, you always offered them to give a blow-job and do it for real the next time. somehow, it always worked.
but you wanted to lose your virginity status before leaving this city forever. only, to make a good memory and as a form of farewell to your old life in this city.
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sometimes, you fantasize about meeting your future partner. he would probably be a manly man with a lot of charisma who can make you happy, protect, and satisfy you.
but that was all fantasy at first.
today you were invited to a house party thrown by the super-hot fellow student johnny.
you knew he was ready to fuck you whenever or wherever. you could tell from his eyes and his countless boners whenever you two studied together - or johnny tried to study when he wasn't busy staring at your boobs.
you could literally run him around on your finger because of that.
and this kinda behavior was undoubtedly what put you off from having sex. as soon as you sensed that a man was an easy target, drooling over you, you lost interest and the desire to jump into bed with them.
at the party, you and johnny were sitting in the small kitchen of his parents' house. you're wearing a short, tight, black miniskirt that showed off your thighs and embraced your juicy butt. a matching tank top that slightly revealed your stomach and breasts, and over that you've put on a black bomber jacket.
he talked your ear off for 15 minutes about his plans for the future, how he's going to work in his father's company in a high position of responsibility and earn a lot of money.
by contrast, you have been mentally planning your excuse to head home. this party has been a complete waste of your time.
completely dazed by your thoughts, all the noise from the music, the conversations of the guests and the diffuse atmosphere in the room, you only realized now that you could feel johnny's breath on your neck.
which was a sign for you to instinctively step back. you took a look at him and noticed his lustful eyes. whatever mood he was on, you could unfortunately not feel it.
you smiled briefly and politely excused yourself to the living room. johnny is definitely not going to be the planned candidate to take away your virginity status.
as soon as you entered the living room, the music got louder, also the volume of the conversations as well as the physical distance of the guests got even more intense.
you sighed and cast a quick glance around the room to find a good place to relax.
all of a sudden, your gaze lingered on the far corner of the room as you recognized the familiar face of someone you thought you had long buried away.
sitting on the couch, was none other than the old shadowless boy next door, mark lee. he was sitting in a group of three students together, laughing heartily and clearly having fun.
you recognized the two students in front of him, jeno and yuta from your uni. but who was the girl right next to him?
unanticipated, in the middle of the living room among the crowd of students having fun, you stood frozen on the same spot, trying to both identify the girl and understand what mark was doing at this party.
was he even the same mark you once knew?
he looked so… different, which, to your surprise, certainly did something to you.
suddenly, you were oblivious to all the noise in the house and felt like you were submerged underwater.
your perception became numb, and you could only perceive mark clearly. without being able to logically understand why his presence had caused such a shock state in your mind and body.
mark was sitting too close to the girl, their knees were touching and she was clutching his arm. was she his girlfriend?
apart from her, mark was the one who excited you with his whole new aura: his hair, his masculine jaw line, his physique, his moving… nothing resembled the shady old boy from your neighborhood anymore.
he looked so damn attractive and appealing to your eyes.
you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't recognize johnny's presence behind you until it was too late. he had long since grabbed your hips and stroked his member lightly on your body.
when he noticed how motionless you were, he followed your gaze and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "mark lee?" he murmured.
you looked up at him in surprise? how the hell did johnny suh know mark lee?
johnny was a hugely popular student at your university. he came from the ivy league, was mega sporty and worked as a model on the side.
while mark, was a mama's boy who mostly stayed in the background, listened well to his parents, joined the church choir and lived by the rules.
what timeline were they living in that their paths would cross?
the equation just didn't add up in your head.
he turned away from you with a beaming, happy face and staggered slightly in mark's direction, affected by the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
johnny willingly goes over to talk to him and leaves you behind?!
"mark lee, what's up, man?" he shouted gleefully. mark's face also brightened when he saw johnny. "yo, johnny, dude, what's up?" he returned his greeting and held out his fist.
the two exchanged brief words until johnny turned around, presumably looking after you in the crowd.
you proactively made your way over without letting him look for you any longer.
johnny immediately put his hand on your hip when he noticed you next to him. you glanced at mark, who looked rather preoccupied with the female companion next to him, to even notice your presence.
"he-heeeey, y/n!" yuta shouted, getting up to hug you.
the sound of your name finally woke mark up, causing him to look up at you in amazement and confusion.
yuta quickly got a chair for you and johnny so that you could sit down. he positioned your chair as close to him as possible.
you thanked him with a smile, sank into the chair, and crossed your legs, which made your miniskirt go a little higher. mark studied you thoroughly with his black eyes. from top to bottom. his eyes slowly traveled from your neck, to your breasts, to your stomach, to your legs and finally to your feet. he completely took you in with his eyes.
you couldn't understand why, but you liked the attention he showed you. it gave pleasant butterflies in your stomach.
as soon as he realized that you had caught him in his act, he averted his gaze and took a sip from his glass, which you found amusing.
the girl next to him clung to him tighter, when she noticed his eyes were glued on you.
the whole night you were being hit on by yuta, jeno and johnny. you had all their attention except for mark. the one you were most interested in at the moment.
his little attention, in the beginning, was all he could give to you because he didn't even glance at you for a moment afterward.
instead, he was busy making out with the girl next to him for the whole night.
eventually, the night ended without anything special happening.
johnny and yuta fought with each other to walk you home, but you insisted on driving home alone and were glad that they didn't insist any longer.
on your way back home, you couldn't help but think about mark.
was he always so attractive and you were too blind to recognize it or did he go through a second puberty?
either way, you couldn't get his dark eyes out of your head, the way he looked at you, the way his lips curled into a heart-melting smile, whenever he told something, the veins in his arms whenever he clutched his glass and his pointed jawline.
and the way his mouth moved sensually as he kissed the girl next to him. god… you wondered how his lips would feel if you kissed him... your cheeks heated up at the thought.
holy crap, who would have thought that the nice, silent kid from your neighborhood, would make your insides shake like crazy?
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is uni even uni if you don't have to attend a zoom meeting for the smallest occasions?
presently, you were preparing to attend a zoom meeting to meet the team for your research internship.
it was the last practical part of your master's degree program before graduation.
you were informed that it was a small working group in microbial and molecular transformation. in about five minutes, you were about to meet your internship supervisor and other colleagues.
so after straightening your hair and applying make-up, you opened your laptop and clicked on the zoom link provided.
a few seconds later, the counselor's contact window appeared. you smiled politely and looked up to the small screens to see how many people were present.
along with the tutor, there were three other people present: someone named alex, someone named giselle and someone named mark.
when you read the name, you immediately thought of a certain person, but quickly put the thought out of your mind because it would be impossible for him to be-
suddenly, the student's video window took on texture and color, causing you to almost lose your breath when you realized that it was indeed the mark you had in mind.
he was wearing a black beanie, glasses, a white shirt, and an olive green jacket. even in this state, inexplicably, he managed to raise your pulse.
throughout the meeting, you occasionally glanced at his screen to check him out. most of the time he was attentive, bending his head to probably do something on his phone, and when he spoke, he spoke so confidently and sympathetically that it warmed your heart.
he exuded a cool, confident, personable demeanor that you wouldn't associate with him before. mainly, he shared his thoughts about the project, they were working on.
as soon as it was your turn to introduce yourself, you noticed that he switched to a poker face, while everyone else was patiently listening to you, and he even reached for his cell phone while you were still talking. kinda rude… was he ignoring you on purpose?
despite his uncertain behavior, you tried to be not intimidated and delivered a confident introduction to the team.
you wished he had shown you more attention, but that wouldn't have been possible via zoom anyway.
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two days later, the first day of your internship had arrived. on a sunny day, you walked from the university parking lot to the research building with zero expectations in your mind.. you would be glad to just finish this internship and graduate soon.
you were wearing a gray, thin, knitted sweater with long sleeves and a wide, square neckline that slightly exposed your shoulders and showed your bra strap. the sweater was cut short and ended above your waist, revealing part of your stomach. to match, you were wearing a pair of black jeans with a high waist, tight fit and a hemline just above your belly button.
as you approached the building, in front, you noticed a male figure smoking. the closer you got, the more you could identify him as being mark.
wow, who would've thought, it would be that easy to see him here.
he was wearing a casual, long-sleeved shirt with a checkered pattern of dark and light blue tones and dark blue jeans that emphasized his casual look.
you immediately recognized his dark, expressive eyes and the way his facial muscles contracted whenever he pulled on the tilt of his cigarette.
the younger y/n would've never have guessed that mark would smoke someday...
he seemed to continue his game of ignoring you, never turning his head in your direction and trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible.
while you, in contrast, looked straight at him as clearly as possible as you almost reached the door.
you two were standing in a line as you held out your arm to open the door. you leaned back to pull the heavy door, but your movements were slow since you were hoping he'd give you a small glance in this small encounter.
he took one last drag from his cigarette and briefly glanced over at you before throwing it on the floor and extinguishing it with his right foot.
you were already in the building and couldn't help, but smile at the small, insignificant interaction. the tension between you two was starting to appear slowly, but you were 100% sure, that he was deliberately ignoring you.
as you walked down the long hallway to find the office where you were supposed to arrive, you heard footsteps behind you, coming closer and closer.
you stopped in front of room "c9" and checked your cell phone again before knocking in, to make sure you were in the right place.
the document you had saved on your phone, took ages to open, but then suddenly you noticed a figure in front of you, who tried to unlock the door.
mark.
"you're here for the internship, right?" you hear him say without looking at you.
"um, yes, exactly," you answer.
he opened the office door, and you followed him, although he did not properly invite you in. inside the office, there was no one else besides you two. you found a table, that seemed to be free and put your bag down.
"we've come to the conclusion that you work in alex' team. just like me. giselle is pretty closely involved in three projects this semester, so she can't make time to supervise you. that's why we're taking on this task," he explained to you as he booted up his computer without looking at you.
you simply nodded and sat there uncomfortably. one thing for sure, he had certainly managed to make you uncomfortable. great!
to break the strange silence in the room, you asked if alex was also working in the room. unfortunately, mark just nodded and hummed.
he only opened his mouth, when he had something to say, that was necessarily work-related; like when he e-mailed your weekly tasks.
for the next 40 minutes, silence captured the office, while you two were working.
mark looked pretty focused. a little too focused for your liking.
unfortunately, you, on the other side, could do anything, but focus on your work.
not, when his appearance was enough to distract you. at the same time, several question marks formed in your head as to why he was ignoring you so blatantly. he acted as if you two were strangers, or as if he would hate you. it made no sense, why he would think like that.
if he didn't recognize you from the past, he should at least be friendly to a supposed stranger.
while you were busy with these thoughts, suddenly, the door opened wide. "shit, traffic jam!", alex entered the room. you turned around and gave him a smile. mark didn't even move from his position.
when alex recognized you, he smiled widely. "aaah, the new intern. hello, i'm alex." he held out his hand. you stood up and shook his hand, smiling as you introduced yourself.
"it's a pleasure," he looked at you longer than allowed with a grin and squeezed your hand lightly.
of course you were aware of this annoying gesture, looked like, unwillingly you caught another guys' attention.
there was no progress between you and mark all day. he worked like a workaholic on his computer, while alex occasionally got up and leaned over your shoulder to "help" you with your tasks.
after a while, alex disappeared upstairs to attend another meeting, leaving you and mark alone in the office again.
mark got up and walked to the bookshelf. you took the situation as an opportunity and followed him. when he turned around, you had already blocked him; standing in his way.
"why are you ignoring me?" you asked directly. mark looked surprised. "excuse me?" he mumbled.
"you. you're ignoring me. there is no way, you didn't recognize me. we know each other from the past. from school. you act as if you don't know me," you cleared out, crossing your arms.
mark slowly lowered his gaze to your arms. you could see that he was clenching his jaw and deliberating.
"but i have to admit…" you suddenly exclaimed, causing mark to look at you again.
"that even i had difficulties recognizing you. you look different." you said quietly and moved a step closer. "fairly different." you looked into his eyes with a smile.
mark paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on you. "well, that's usually what time does. some change for the better, while some…" he said with a dry undertone.
you raised your eyebrows while you waited for him to finish his sentence. you didn't remember that his voice was so attractive.
mark decided not to finish his thought and looked directly at you. "um, it doesn't really matter. you really should-"
"do you have a girlfriend?"
the question left your mouth without a warning. you had become so lost in his eyes, captivated by his masculine energy and enveloped by the subtle scent of his perfume, that you just had to ask.
mark seemed visibly shocked by your sudden question. his eyes widened for a moment before he caught himself.
"a girl..friend?" he repeated as if he needed to process your words first.
then he sighed. a looong, deep sigh. "why the hell should you care?"
you noticed how his words made the air between you crackle even more. his natural reaction, so surprising and genuine, only drew you closer to his aura.
so you leaned forward a little, your eyes fixed on his, and with a whisper, you said: "because i need to know if there is someone i need to compete with. or if i'm the only one who has the privilege of making you nervous like this."
your words were challenging. you were standing very close to him, close enough to feel his breath. close enough to smell his smoked cigar.
mark only looked at you and raised his eyebrows, visibly confused and at the same time challenged by your directness.
he took a step back to create some distance between you two. his gaze became penetrating, almost cutting.
"competitor? privilege?" his voice was cool, almost sharp. "you still think the universe revolves around you, don't you?"
you could feel how his words triggered a mixture of attraction and repulsion in you. you've never experienced this feeling with a man before.
"you're wrong, y/n" it was the first time you heard your name coming out of his mouth, and you loved it.
mark took a deep breath. "it's the other guys who fall at your feet. that… that's definitely not me," he said sharply.
you couldn't help but smile, fascinated by his determination.
your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you lean forward. "oh yeah? then, who are you, mark? tell me how 'different' you are from others." your voice was flirty and playful.
"i saw exactly how you looked at me at the party."
mark gulped visibly, as if he was preparing himself, to give you an answer. but you could notice, that you made him slightly nervous with your remark.
for a moment there was an intense silence in which you looked deeply into each other's eyes. just as the tension became almost palpable, the door opened with a loud squeak.
alex re-entered the room, completely unaware of what happened of your interaction. "so, back to the cave! y/n, how's the text going?"
his cheerful voice broke the silence, and brought you and mark back to the present.
mark took a step forward, his eyes leaving yours as he marched back to his table.
you turned around, a smile on your lips. "i'm coming!" you shouted.
the next three weeks were unspectacular. mostly, mark focused on his work the whole time and alex never let you do your work alone, because you'd need "supervision", which made it difficult for you, to interact with mark again.
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one day you walked back into the building again while you were reading the message in the workgroup that alex had sent.
he would not be present today because he was sick. when you read the message, your heart soared, impatient to see mark in the office.
you walked down the corridor to the office while he ran towards you.
he seemed to be leaving the office. but when he saw you, he left the door wide open. you looked at him questioningly, while he gestured that he was going out for a smoke.
another good thing about the office was, apart from the fact that mark worked here, that it allowed a view of the smoking area.
mark was leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers. he was wearing black jeans and a white, casual shirt. so basic, but so hot at the same time.
he took a slow drag on his cigarette, and every time he exhaled, the smoke formed a little side haze in front of his face. you watched the whole scene as if it were playing out in slow motion in front of you.
mark occasionally brushed his hair out of his face with the back of his thumb, showed a small frown when he was thinking, or occasionally looked off into the distance as if lost in his thoughts.
you positioned your chin in your hand, while the thought germinated in your mind that there was much more behind mark's tough façade than you had seen so far. his calm, almost thoughtful manner as he stood there had an almost magnetic effect on you.
you wanted to find out what was going on in his head, what he was feeling…
when mark had finished his cigarette, he threw it on the floor and stubbed it out. he turned around and noticed through the window that you had been watching him.
your eyes met for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.
mark broke the eye contact with a neutral look and made his way to the office.
your internship would end in 5 weeks and it was not clear whether you would still meet mark afterwards or whether alex would give you the space to be alone again in those 5 weeks.
so today was crucial. you thought about how you could get closer to him and an idea came to you.
you walked to the nearest café and bought some light food for lunch. you planned to have lunch with mark at the office and hoped to make some progress.
the murmur in the hallway revealed that the other people were making their way to the cafeteria. you glanced at mark, who also seemed intent on eating in the cafeteria.
before he got up, you intervened. "wait, how about we have lunch here?"
mark, just about to put on his jacket, pauses when he hears your suggestion. his gaze wanders indecisively from you to the door and back again.
at that moment, you take a few packets out of your bag and spread them out on the small table at the back of the office.
"i got sandwiches and salad," you say with a smile and raise your eyebrows innocently.
"it's not a proper lunch, but it's better than what's served in the canteen. besides, it's quieter here."
you watch mark closely and notice how his gaze briefly falls on the food.
he's still hesitant. he doesn't think it's a bad idea in itself, but eating alone with you was pretty risky.
"come on, mark. it's not like i'm going to bite you,"
unless you ask me to…
mark looks at you hard for a moment before sighing and finally nodding. "alright, but for your information, i'm not a big fan of sandwiches."
you smile triumphantly and point to the chair opposite. "sit down, i promise it won't be that bad."
no wonder why people say, that the unique opportunity we seek lies within ourselves. and the opportunity you were seeking was to be alone with mark, who should of course would be working.
the break lasted 45 minutes in total. a period of time that was crucial to your success.
you rolled up your sleeves to get a sandwich out of the bag. you wore a long-sleeved, slightly see-through, figure-hugging white top with a u-neckline that slightly exposed your shoulders. you wore a classic pair of blue jeans in a five-pocket style that emphasized your hips.
you sat next to each other and ate your sandwiches.
your happy face could hardly hide the fact that you had this rare opportunity to eat alone with mark.
you sneaked glances at him as he ate his sandwich and noticed the way he occasionally furrowed his eyebrows whenever he took a bite of the sandwich.
"did you actually move back to the neighborhood after you… well, moved away with your mom?" you asked cautiously, hoping to learn a little more about him.
mark, who had just taken a bite of his sandwich, paused.
his gaze hardens and he slowly puts his sandwich down. "y/n, i really appreciate the food and the silence," he says in an almost cool voice. "please don't let us cross the personal line."
you feel a slight disappointment rising inside you, sigh, but don't let it discourage you.
the two of you continued your lunch in silent suspense.
suddenly marks cell phone vibrates on the table. he hesitates for a moment as he looks at the display before picking it up.
"yes, i'm listening," his posture changes as he listens, he straightens up and his voice sounds business-like.
you can't help but get curious. it was a female voice.
you listen to the female voice on the other end of the line, sounding lively and friendly. was she possibly the girl from the party?
you watch closely as mark speaks to her.
his facial expression remains neutral, but his eyes reveal a certain familiarity with the person on the other end.
your curiosity about what the girl on the other end was talking about was driving you crazy.
you unconsciously moved closer to mark, awkwardly stirring the cup between you.
a small push of your elbow was enough to send the contents spilling across the table.
"damn it!" you exclaimed quietly as you hurriedly got up to clean up the mess.
mark, still on the phone, looked briefly irritated, but then concentrated on the conversation again.
you rushed to the shelf in the corner of the office to get some tissues while keeping the convo in your ear.
"yeah, yeah, i know… that's important to me too," you heard him say. his voice sounded softer. he hadn't spoken to you in this tone before.
this personal note in his tone made you falter for a moment. why can't he treat me like this?
you shook off your thoughts and returned to the table with your handkerchiefs, trying to hide your curiosity. "sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you leaned forward to wipe up the spilled liquid.
mark put the phone aside and replied curtly, "no problem".
you wiped the table without a care in the world until you realized that mark had been watching you the whole time. his eyes were particularly focused on your boobs swinging back and forth, as you wiped the surface of the table. you acted hastily beforehand, instinctively, unaware that your cleavage would display your boobs right in front of mark.
his sudden affection for you made you embarrassed and your cheeks flushed.
mark, realizing he'd been caught, cleared his throat and quickly returned his gaze to the sandwich in front of him.
at the same time, you couldn't help but grin as you threw the handkerchief into the garbage can and sat back down in your chair.
mark, on the other hand, was now visibly nervous and tense. he knew that you had noticed his looks and his interest.
you awkwardly put your drink away and tried to start a conversation to bridge the awkward silence.
"you know, when i was little, i was so obsessed with donuts that i-"
"you wanted your father to own a donut factory," he interrupted you.
you were visibly shocked that he remembered such a trivial detail. "how do you know that?" you asked, your eyes wide with surprise.
"you told me about it in 8th grade when we were supposed to talk about our childhood wishes," he replied casually, as if it was common knowledge.
you could hardly believe that mark had never forgotten such a banal piece of information about you. it showed how attentive he must have been to you even back then.
he didn't look at you properly until now because he was still embarrassed by his double exposure earlier.
"um… the phone call was just work, by the way," he stammered, obviously trying to change the subject.
you were still a little shocked and needed a moment to understand what he was alluding to. then you remembered the phone call and Mark's glances at your breasts.
you giggled softly at his frantic attempts to cover up his actions. "sure, just work," you replied.
mark sighed and looked directly at you. he continued to try to lighten the atmosphere and asked if you needed help with your chores.
you were nibbling on your jam sandwich and couldn't help but laugh. "do you really need an excuse to suppress your supposed 'crime', mark?" you asked directly and slightly defiantly.
mark, caught off guard by your directness, watched you for a moment.
he remembered how beautiful he always thought your smile was back then, because your eyes always lit up like the first ray of sunshine of the day when you laughed.
"thanks, but i'll be fine. i'll come to you if i need help," you said, biting into your sandwich again.
then you looked directly at him. "but i have to admit, i'm impressed by how productive you are. so focused… and you look pretty hot too," you added with a fleeting smile.
in truth, mark's productivity masked his desire for you. he was afraid that you might hurt him if you rejected him. he was afraid of himself, that he might get stupid ideas if he looked at you or even talked to you.
everything about you was reason enough to excite all his cells and organs in his body.
your presence was a fulfillment of his deepest, hidden desires and a painful agony at the same time.
mark felt his pulse slowly rising. he studied you more closely for a moment.
for little mark, it was nothing more than a dream that you were sitting next to him so openly and complimenting him.
he saw how your long, slightly wavy hair fell over your shoulders and lightly touched your breasts at the tips, how you looked at him with smiling eyes, how your whole body was focused on him.
he slowly lowered his gaze and noticed that he could see through your shirt, your bra and how your nipples were slightly visible through the surface of your shirt. it wasn't directly visible, but if you looked long enough you could see them.
you didn't even notice that mark was about to eye-fuck you because you were too engrossed in your story.
then mark looked at your face again, and he noticed the little jam mark on the corner of your lips. he thought you had left it there on purpose so he would notice it.
a sigh escaped him. "are you doing this on purpose?" he asked, slightly annoyed.
you were completely unaware of the jam stain, looking at him with an innocent expression. "what do you mean?"
mark pointed slightly at his own lip to show you the stain. "that jam stain there. it kind of makes you…" he breaks off, searching for the right words, while you searched in vain for the stain with your fingers.
if that's not one of her tricks to seduce a man…
mark thought to himself. but you were really clueless as to what he meant by the stain.
mark looked slightly annoyed and suddenly extended his finger to remove the stain from your lip.
his gesture took you completely by surprise and your eyes widened in astonishment as you stared at him.
mark wiped the stain with his thumb and noticed the way you looked at him.
the two of you were locked in an intense eye contact as mark's thumb still lingered gently on the corner of your lip. his eyes darkened as you felt a sudden electricity in your body.
he gently moved his fingers over your lips while his gaze was anchored on them.
you felt the warmth of his skin and a tingling sensation spread through your body.
your next move was completely instinct-driven, quite risky.
without thinking twice, you slowly opened your lips and took mark's thumb fully into your mouth, all the while gazing longingly into his eyes.
you remembered your plan, your desire for him… your growing arousal progressed.
you firmly held his hand tightly to keep his thumb in your mouth and licked and sucked on it.
if he would be willing and would allow, you were ready to suck his dick on the spot.
marks breath became heavier and his throat dried by the view of you.
he tried to suppress his inner turmoil, but the sudden intimacy of yours obviously threw him off balance.
the intimate air in the office was broken by the surprising sound of the door suddenly opening.
a young, beautiful girl stood in the doorway, looking for mark.
mark jerked his thumb back as you moved away from him, startled and embarrassed.
the girl stood confused at the doorway, staring alternately at mark and you.
mark cleared his throat and quickly rose from his chair. "yo…, hey," he stammered, clearly trying to control the situation.
"i was just on my way out. what's up?" he asked as he approached the girl and closed the door behind him.
you were left alone in the office, still caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, and you couldn't help but smile. your heart was beating fast with excitement and the adrenaline triggered by the unexpected closeness with mark.
you rushed to the window to get some fresh air, breathing heavily.
mark was outside the room, visibly trying to collect himself. he unobtrusively rubbed his thumb over his pants to dry it. his usually controlled façade towards you had been shaken for a moment.
the girl was explaining something to him, but he found it challenging to follow her because his thoughts were still on you.
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the next day was really weird. you and mark tried hard to act as "normal" as possible and forget what happened yesterday.
"what's this all of a sudden?!" you exclaimed with a furrowed brow as you stared at your monitor.
the internet connection had broken, leaving you without access to the browser or the faculty's network drive.
since alex was off sick again, you looked to mark, who continued to work undisturbed by your outburst.
you tried to solve the problem yourself but realized after about 10 minutes that you had to run to the it service.
with a sigh, you grabbed your bag and left the office without telling mark; he would ignore you anyway.
luckily, you didn't have to wait long at the it service, and your issue was quickly resolved.
on your way back to the building, you saw mark leaving the building.
as he saw you coming, he gestured for you to follow him. you looked at him questioningly but walked in his direction at the same time.
"how about we call it a day and grab some food together?" he asked casually, squinting his eyes blinded by the sunlight.
his offer sounded definitely appealing. without questioning, you agreed with a "sure." you wanted to say that you needed to grab your stuff but noticed that mark was already holding it and handed it to you.
his kind gesture touched you. where did the guy go who ignored you all day??
when mark made this offer, you didn't imagine that you'd be eating burgers from a drive-thru in his car.
he had parked his car in a nice park's parking lot and started unwrapping his burger. you also took your burger in hand and handed him his fries.
this move made him recoil as if he was startled by you.
you looked at him for a few seconds.
"sorry, and yeah, thanks," he cleared his throat and placed his fries on his lap.
"what was that about? don't worry, i'm not going to stick my finger in your mouth," you remarked slightly offended and bit into your burger.
mark furrowed his brow "what are you talking about? i did not assume, that-" he tried to defend himself.
"judging by your behavior, you were obviously nervous that i might do exactly that," you continued to argue.
he shook his head and changed his sitting position so he could better look out his window.
you wondered why he had invited you to eat in the car if he was afraid to get closer. or, was that exactly the plan? no wonder his first thought was to recoil when you handed him his fries.
"you want me to get closer, don't you?" you asked softly.
"yea, you want us to get closer. that's why you invited me into your car. right?" you looked sideways at him, with a proud smile that you had seen through him.
mark chewed on his burger and shook his head slightly "it seems like you're the one who's hoping for that," he noted clearly.
"is that wrong?"
"what?"
"that i'm hoping for it."
"do you?"
"yes"
mark looked at you blankly. he looked as if he was solving a very difficult math problem in his mind.
"y/n, as a woman, you should be careful and not talk this way with a man. it can end very dangerously," he warned you.
you smirked, "but i'm talking to you."
"still. you're a woman."
now you were the one giving him a puzzled look, "what does that mean? just because i'm a woman, i can't have sexual needs? how old are you, mark? 80?"
"that's not what i'm saying. it's just that you're very attractive and very... dangerous... for me," he noted hesitantly. "...and very attention-grabbing for all other men."
you listened to him attentively, "does that make you jealous? or insecure?" you asked him.
mark sighed loudly, "it makes me uncomfortable... that's why...um... i wanted to eat with you in the car."
his remark made you laugh, while he looked at you as if you had gone crazy, "oh, mark, you're just so sweet. have you ever thought that you might be projecting your own desires onto others?"
"what do you mean?"
"aren't you the one who's mentally fucking me all the time and not the other men? isn't that what you want? just say it if that's the case. look, i'm being honest with you: i want your dick."
mark's eyes widened, he started to blush and protested loudly "wtf, y/n, i said, you, as a woman-"
"oh, stop being mean, mark. i know what i want as a woman. the question is, are you as a man ready to admit what you want?" you hinted with a flirty tone.
mark swallowed as he looked at you. he glanced briefly at his finger and tried to suppress his smile, "can you also...", he cleared his throat, "take other things in your mouth?", he asked quietly, his gaze shifting between your eyes and your lips.
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life was really crazy. the guy you once hated so much was destined to take your virginity, and you only realized this during an internship in your studies.
after about 15 minutes of driving, mark parked in front of an apartment complex and stopped the car.
suddenly, it occurred to you that mark might need to know that you're a virgin. would that scare him off?
mark noticed your inner conflict and asked if everything was okay.
you hesitated for a moment, then looked at him. "it's just... you might want to know that i... am a virgin."
mark stared at you motionlessly for a moment, before he suddenly started to laugh. his reaction left you confused and slightly hurt. "good joke, y/n," he said, reaching for the door handle, ready to get out.
you were confused and grabbed his hand to stop him. "i'm serious. i really am a virgin," you said firmly.
mark turned to you in surprise, his laughter fading. "that's impossible," he replied incredulously, his eyes searching for any sign of a joke in your face.
you looked at him directly, your eyes open and serious. "why would that be impossible?"
mark's gaze didn't leave your face, as if trying to see behind your facade. "because... well, your body is... it's just hard to believe that you're a virgin."
you couldn't help but smile. "that has nothing to do with experience, mark."
mark was still not convinced. "dude, you've literally slept with every popular guy in class."
you couldn't believe your ears and were visibly shocked by his comment. "how the hell did you come up with that?! who am i supposed to have slept with?"
mark looked at you incredulously. "dude, come on... jaehyun? soobin? hyunjin?"
you were just speechless. "yeah, i might have made out with them at most..."
"you literally sucked hyunjin off," he said with a poker face.
"you.., okay, wow, i can't believe i'm having this conversation with you. this is not how i imagined our first time," you were just flabbergasted. first, because those guys were spreading stories about your moments, and second, because mark knew all about it.
"mark, just because i've had those experiences doesn't mean i've actually slept with them. i've never met the right one from whom i could get it," you assured.
"not yet... until...?" mark asked with a grin.
"... until i met you," you smiled.
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mark felt around your lower back, grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up. while he took off his own shirt, you unclasped your bra.
your breasts were big and full and your nipples light pink.
mark flattened his palm on your boobs, his broad hand pawing at each of your breasts in turn. you had to bite your lips as he found each of your nipple, tweaking them firmly to bring them to stiff peaks.
your cunt clenched and you couldn't help the way your hips tried and bucked up to chase for some friction.
your body was toned and shapely. mark was always aware of that as he let you slight in his wettest dreams many times in the past.
he felt and squeezed your plump ass.
you tore down his boxers and admired his throbbing cock with a bite on your lower lip.
"are you scared?", mark asked with a shaky voice.
"i'm excited", you whispered.
"naughty girl", mark smirked.
you salivate at the way his foreskin strains against his tip, smeared with precome, which you licked away, making mark moan "oohhHh, yes".
mark pulled his hip back and put his hand tight on the back of your neck as you brought your hands up to stady his cock.
you wrapped your dominant hand around the base of his cock as you braced your other hand on his thigh for balance.
mark pressed you down onto his cock with the hand on the back of your head. you splutter at the sudden intrusion, hollowing your cheeks to stop yourself from gagging.
you looked up through bleary eyes to see his mouth agape, his eyes glassy as he watched his dick disappear into the wet heat of your mouth, "aahHhh, fuck-", he cursed.
you moaned around him as you squeezed the base of his cock, losing yourself to the moment as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "good baby, you're taking it so well, ahHhH", he continued to moan.
while you continued to work your mouth up and down, pulling almost all the way out to lap and suckle at his head. you used the tip of your tongue to toy with his slit and he shuddered, you smiled to yourself before committing to something more.
you relaxed your mouth as much as possible before starting to take him deep in your throat with hard, fast movements. the wet sound of you burying his cock deep in your throat was loud in the otherwise quiet room.
"good girl", he said through gritted teeth as he rocked his hips forward to meet your eager mouth.
you coughed and spluttered around him as he picked up the pace fucking your throat until tears were streaming down your face. mark finally relented as you felt your throat contract, threatening to make you gag.
you gasped for air as he held your head back, forcing you to look up at him as he grinned down at you, "i won't just nut in your mouth and end this", he stated with a smirk, "no chance, baby", he said.
you looked up at him, ashamedly open mouthed as you felt the arousal swirling in your core.
"alright, i'm gonna fuck you softly with my fingers and you're gonna tell me, if it feels good or bad, okay? last thing i want is to give you pain."
"yes", you almost whispered.
after getting you fully naked and putting you onto his bed, mark shoved his fingers into you and groaned deeply when he felt you clench around him on instinct.
fuck, i wished, it was my dick, she was stangling, he thought.
"you okay?", he reassured.
you nodded with a heated face and closed eyes, "keep going."
you shivered as he took in the perfectly shapen lips and letting his middle fingertip just run down your slit, making you shudder at how perfectly he split you just a little so it brushed over your clit, stimulating you ever so lightly through the hood and making you tremble.
"mark", you said and stopped his hand from fucking your pussy. you knew, he could feel that you were already wet enough.
"what's wrong, baby?"
"fuck my ass, please", you bluntly said, blushing a little as you just blurted it out. you didn't want to come this early and you always fantasized mark getting you from behind, so it was the perfect time for that.
"you sure?", mark carefully asked, but you already positioned yourself, getting all on your fours in front of him.
you sank your bank and let your knees slide wider to show yourself off.
"perfect", he smirked at the sight of your plump ass, making you glance back over your shoulders at him and smile.
to your surprise, mark dived down and pressed his tongue to your asshole, grabbing your hips to hold you in place as he licked over your sensational part.
"ohmygod", you choked in surprise, the feeling like nothing else you've experienced as he attacked you with passion, taking his time, but gave you no chance to ease into it.
it completely caught you off guard.
your shock turned to willing pleasure, letting your legs slide a little wider, arching your back to push back into him, "hmmMmM.. yeas, baby..", you whimpered.
a tingle ran through your whole body, hands tightening in the cheap sheets as you shivered, body trembling and a stuttering groan escaping your mouth.
suddenly your pleasure was abruptly interrupted as mark pulled away from you, leaving you ready as you gasped in shock and looked back at him.
your eyes locking onto his thick, throbbing erection as he squeezed it out and rubbed it over his impressive prick, slicking the bulging head as he stepped closer behind you.
you breathed deeply to calm your racing heart, the excitement and nerves sent adrenaline through you as mark reached down and grabbed a rough handful of your long hair.
he twisted his grip on you enough to make you wince and pushed his straining cock to your tight, not being that gentle with you as you expected him to be.
he testingly thrusted against you and felt how you resisted, "relax, babygirl", he breathed out. he held you dominantly in place as he worked against you and eased you open.
his pace was steady but inexorable, not giving you a chance to resist or pull away anymore.
you gave away, feeling yourself stretch naughtily over his invading head, mark used just enough pressure to drive his thick cock inside you without going too fast.
"you like that, y/n?", he teased, "is that, what you were hoping for?".
you seethed a little at that, but didn't say a word. you had literally invited it and had to take it, to let him work his magic on you and bring you to climax.
"the popular, sexy girl at school on her knees for me, taking my cock in her ass like a little-", he didn't finish his sentence, seeing you twitch as you held your temper back as he started thrusting himself deeper inside you, making your tightest hole take more of his cock.
"man, i knew, you would love this", he added, smiling as he shoved himself into you firmly, but carefully. his pace was calm and measured, taking his time with you.
his thrusts were controlled and purposeful, working deeper inside you.
pleasure melted into you all as you felt the full, satisfying sensation of the sex you were having with him, nerve endings stroked for the first time by his cock as he pumped you deeper and deeper. working all of himself inside you until his hips pressed to your toned booty.
"oh fuck...", you muttered as you shuddered and started picking up his pace a little. marks pumps got harder and more intent, making sure to go full depth every time you took all of him.
you gasped in pleasure, "oHhHhHH, maarkkk", you moaned. you heart was racing as you immediately blushed, barely able to believe you was enjoying your first time.
your breaths became harder, more intense as he pumped into you. marks hands still pulled at you, his fingers pressing into your soft skin as you readjusted his grip on your hair.
"oh mark, mark, just like that...", you moaned as you felt your orgasm building, your core tightening as he pounded you over and over again.
marks groans filled the room as he filled you.
"please, baby, i'm so close..."
"fuck", mark moaned in response, but didn't give in to your pleas, dragging out your orgasm and pulling back so he could delay you.
you whined in protest and slipped your hand between your legs, where you teased your clit, grinding against your fingers.
"y/n!", mark scolded, pulling your hand away from your aching pussy and restrain both of your hands at the top of his bed.
"i want to come, mark... i want-"
"i know, i know", mark smirked, his voice soothing as he stroked youur hair. "patience, baby. i am enjoying my break, this will make it more pleasurable."
"to the hell with... with... the break...", you groaned, but couldn't deny how much you were enjoying this.
you loved being pinned down, being fucked like this, it made you feel desired, loved and most importantly safe, because it was mark.
mark let out a breathless laugh as he continued his rhythmic movements, his grunting and moaning were only making you want to reach completion more.
"oh, y/n, you feel so good, baby..", he praised, smirking when you let out a huff beneath him.
you gasped when mark adjusted himself, so he was fucking you, just right, his thumb pressed against your clit.
"yes! markkk!", you cried, your eyes squeezed shut and you were breathing heavily as you lost yourself in him.
it was perfect. no one had ever touched you like this. no one had ever loved you like this.
you came with a cry, walls clenching around his cock.
your arousal spilling down his length.
you gasped, your heart racing as you pressed your forehead against his pillow. you felt marks hand grip your hips to steady you.
"y/n, i'm coming, i-", mark let out an unrestrained growl as his hips stuttered and he filled you with his seed, causing you to let out a weak, defeated moan as warmth flooded you as it often did.
"you're just... perfect, so... fucking... perfect...", mark stated, totally exhausted.
you both stayed like that for a few moments while your pounding hearts steadied and your breathings began to return to normal.
mark pulled out of you and you adjusted yourself on the bed, spinning around so you were laying next to him.
you had been fucked senseless, just as you wanted your first time to be and mark made your wish have come true.
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today was your last internship day. your relationship with mark had changed since the incident. he couldn't ignore you anymore and always sought your company when alex wasn't around. after that, you even had sex four times. one of those times was in his office - when alex wasn't there.
on your last day, you wore a white, short-sleeved crop top that clung to your large breasts and highlighted your beautiful figure. you paired it with a high-waisted, fitted mini-skirt with a glencheck pattern in shades of gray and classic white sneakers.
it was a normal workday. at the end of the day, you said goodbye to all the employees. except for mark.
he invited you to a café.
once at the café, you both sipped on your drinks until mark broke the silence.
"you know, in school, i couldn't stand you. you treated me like i was a ghost. it really bruised my ego."
you looked at him in surprise before responding. "honestly, i felt the same about you. you were always the perfect child my mother never had."
mark's laughter filled the café. "well, at least your mom had the hotter kid that mine never had."
your mutual amusement quieted for a moment before you became more serious. "you're not fair, mark. i find you totally hot."
mark's gaze softened. "it's going to be hard to part ways with you, babe."
you both fell silent for a while, each lost in thought, until an idea came to you.
"what if you come with me?" mark initially shook his head. "that's not possible."
but you insisted. "why not? think about it. you and me together. every day. every morning. every night.", you gave him a teasing look.
after a moment of hesitation, mark gave in. "you know what? maybe i should really do that." his gaze intensified. "then i could continue to be the one who keeps you wet."
your cheeks turned red at his words.
"shh, mark, not in the café...", you warned him, which made him chuckle.
"so, are you ready to come with me?" you asked him.
"you crazy? i am more than ready. here's to us and to what the future holds."
his words made you smile. "glad you exist, markie."
"glad you exist, darlin'. i'm proud to call you mine."
with those words, a chapter in your life closed, and a new one began - with mark -, full of promises and unknown adventures, side by side.
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Ok roommate update just bc she throws a tantrum doesn’t mean she gets her way! Housing isn’t making me sign off on a new agreement bc she signed the first one and had ample opportunities to say she wanted things changed as we filled it out
#housing just hates her so bad actually. and I mean. i was going to be like hey she signed off on it that’s on her#but housing did it for me! it’s amazing. she’s moving out after this semester#speaking of housing hates her. my 2 friends here r really good friends with a bunch of ras (mine included) and the other day one texts me#and she’s like. ur roomie is so irritating my group chat is going off about it. so she came to visit to show me the exchange#for context roomie called the ra on call to cry about her key getting stuck in the door#if the key isn’t flat it doesn’t come out of the door. she knows this. bc it happened so many times the first week she moved in#so housing knowing her says ok we’ll help but you’ll have to pay the lockout fee. and then the key magically works!#so later when me and my friend r home she rings the doorbell and I thought it was my ra#and then it’s her. and she’s like my key is stuck :((((#and I look at it it’s on an angle. so im I give it a half hearted pull and im like call housing#bc I knew she’d have to pay a lockout fee and I (along with many ras) think she should pay a ’ur wasting my time fee’#but my friend takes one look at it pulls it out to make her look dumb#which. in my personal opinion doesn’t do anything bc she plays dumb#and she’s like to me could u have gotten it out? and I’m like yeah I could’ve but I shouldn’t keep having to fix problems you can fix urself#and she gets all huffy and she’s like sorry for being such a burden to you#and it’s like. girl. you act like an idiot for attention. and the second there’s consequences you back down#but god knows not without trying to guilt trip someone! she’s draining the last bit of my humanity#i have never met someone so universally hated it’s crazy#i swear she’s only transferring next semester bc she burned every single bridge here#also? that little fit she threw a week or two ago? hasn’t spoken a word on it since. I’d wager it’s bc housing told her it’s on her#the other night she tells me. ‘oh by the way. you’re allowed to make noise tonight. I’m staying up all night’ and I’m like. allowed???#what r u my mother??? I’m gonna make sound in my apartment. I’m soo sorry you call every available number every time theres a breeze outside#and the day my friend was over! ‘you’re allowed to stay past 1am if you want. I’ll be up all night’ my friend who cannot hold her tongue#goes oh allowed? are you my mother? thanks mom!#objectively hilarious but she probably shouldn’t have said it#u might think I just sound super mean but I have 0 tolerance for bs and she’s made of it#she’s drained every single bit of niceness in my body after her little tantrum#and also reading the texts she’s sent to my ra about me <3#that’s the update bc I hit 30 tags 🫠#soup talks
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harryslittlefreakk · 8 days
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arrogant s.o.b
summary: based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?
warnings: angst
wordcount: 1.6k
a/n: thank you to the anon who sent in this request!! 🥰💖 sorry it took me a while to get around to it. please let me know if this isn’t quite what you wanted, i don’t know if I’m 100% happy with it so im more than willing to tweak and rewrite!!!
my masterlist!! please feel free to send me more requests 💓 happy reading
“I miss you, Harry.”
You knew you were pushing it, he was already working himself to breaking point. But you couldn’t help it, you missed your boyfriend. His break was meant to be about finding time for himself again, spending time with his loved ones. And you thought that meant being with you, not spending every day confined to the four walls of a recording studio.
“I can’t delay my entire album because you miss me.”
“I’m not asking you to delay the entire album. Just take a day off, just once.”
“Why?! For what?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Now you were both pissed off. You didn’t understand why Harry couldn’t just slow down. You’d only been able to see him in Italy for a few days, your work schedule unexpectedly busy. Part of you thought he was ‘punishing’ you for that, the sane part of you knew that his summer in Italy was his rest, and now he was back in London he needed to work. Harry’s work ethic was one of the things you admired most about him, and now you were arguing with him over it.
“Clearly it does matter.” He was stood by the door, keys in his hand, a dark scowl printed on his face.
“It’s fine, just go. Have a good day.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you didn’t even want Harry to stay now with the atmosphere you’d created.
He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. Finally, he sighed and turned to walk out the door without another word. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him echoed through the silent room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you sank into the sofa. You’d pushed him away when all you wanted was for him to stay. You knew you’d always come second to his career, he prioritised you over almost everything in his life but his music was so important to him. But once he finished recording, there would be interviews and appearances, then a tour, and then you’d be back here again. It was constant, unrelenting, and if he couldn’t even sacrifice one day for you, how could you expect him to slow down?
Harry stood frozen on the other side of the door, still stuck between needing to come back in and wanting to go. It never usually got to this point, one of you would back down before someone got hurt. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you. He hated fighting, hated seeing you upset. But he was only now realising that it was usually you that compromised. He knew you well, and for you to actually speak up and ask him to stay despite knowing how important his work is to him? He’d fucked up.
He leaned against the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Guilt washed over him as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he needed to find a balance between his work and his relationship, but it was easier said than done.
His hand fell from the door handle as he turned on his heel, dragging his feet away from the house. If he was going to make it right, he needed to be armed with all of your favourite things.
Harry replayed the morning in his head the entire time he was out. You’d woken up to his alarm as always, rolling over in his arms to wake him up with soft kisses. “Why do you set alarms if you know you can’t wake up for them?” you laughed, tapping at his nose as his eyes fluttered open. “Because you wake up and I get morning kisses,” he smiled, pulling you tighter to his chest.
He remembered how the morning light hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your puffy eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d caught himself wishing he could have five more minutes in bed with you, time to savour waking up next to his love. But he’d rolled out of bed in the same way as always, slipping out from under you just as you tried to curl your body around his.
You’d followed him to the bathroom silently, lingering in the doorway as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Wish I got to see you more,” you’d mumbled, eyes following his through the mirror. “You see me every day, kitten,” he’d replied, poking his tongue out when he saw you watching. He’d noticed your face fall slightly, a misty kind of sadness replace the natural glint in your eye. He cringed as he thought back, but he’d purposely ignored it to save himself the trouble.
“I see you when I wake up and just before bed,” you’d pouted, eyes glued to your suddenly fidgety hands. “I cant help that right now, pet. You know I can’t,” he’d tried to reason with you, and looking back, Harry thought maybe he was trying to convince himself. “Just a morning or an afternoon at home would be nice. Not even a full day,” you’d told him, voice cracking as you looked back up at him.
“I can’t have this conversation right now,” he’d muttered, kicking at the door until it swung closed in front of you.
And there he was now, heart struck with guilt at the thought of how badly he had neglected you.
As he heard your keys jingle outside the door, Harry finished rearranging his purchases across the bed. He gave one final look to the flowers on your windowsill, the beautiful blush pink roses he knew you loved. It was perfect, he just hoped it would be enough.
“Hi darling,” he smiled sheepishly as he walked down the stairs.
“Hi, H,” you replied, brows knitted as you stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Come,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand for you to take. You dropped your bag by door and took it, fingers tangling with his as he lead you back to the bedroom.
He stopped outside the bedroom door, pulling you into his arms. “M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “Didn’t think about what it’s like for you. I need time with you just as much as you need it w’me.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, cuddling into his chest. “Nothing to be sorry for, pet.”
“Shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in his musky aftershave.
“Gave me the push I needed. M’not good at taking time off.”
“Don’t have to tell me that,” you laughed, stepping away from him as he turned to open the bedroom door.
“Got you your perfect day,” he smiled, stepping out of the way so you could see his creation.
All your favourite snacks were laid out on the bed, your matching pyjamas folded on the corner. The most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen in your favourite vase on the windowsill, candles lit on your nightstand and a cheesy rom com loaded on the tv.
“You did all of this?” you cooed, a grin spreading across your face as your gaze turned to Harry. He nodded, pulling his t-shirt off.
“Nuh uh,” you swatted his hand away as he reached to pick up the pyjama top. “Only my perfect day if you’re topless,” you smirked, quickly peeling your clothes off to throw the pyjamas on.
You climbed into bed next to Harry, pulling the duvet up to your chin before wrapping your body around his, your head at home on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped right around you.
“Made a few calls. Gonna start only doing three days at a time in the studio, then three days off,” he whispered, grinning when you immediately whipped round to look at him. “Don’t have to do that for me baby,” you gasped, brows furrowed.
“It’s the right call. Just gonna be longer days but worth it all if it means more time with you,” Harry winked, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.
You shifted upwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you smiled. “And congratulations.”
Harry returned your kiss, his lips lingering just a second longer than yours had. His touch and his kisses felt like home to you, his smile your lifeblood. “To me? For what?”
“To us. For our first fight,” you giggled, holding out a hand to high-five Harry. He grabbed a hold of your hand, using it to pull you even closer to him, until your faces were only centimetres apart.
“Here’s to our first and last fight,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip as he went in for another kiss, the rocky waves in your stomach turning to butterflies as his tongue moved around yours.
You pulled away after a minute, settling back into his arms with a smile so bright it could have lit up the room.
“Can’t believe we started the day with you thinking your album is more important than me,” you mumbled, a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you tangled your fingers between Harry’s.
“Millions of adoring fans who’d do anything for me versus one woman? I know who I’m picking,” he teased, laughing as you smacked his thigh with your free hand.
“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, peering up at him.
“Hm?”
“About you being an arrogant son of a bitch.”
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bloodbenderz · 1 month
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there was a lot of mistakes made in the live action but the worst one without reservation was that the creators did not understand patriarchy and they did not understand women's liberation outside of an american context ( or any context if we're being honest )
it's easy to see on a surface level how that fucked up katara's whole character how she wasn't allowed to have her character defining moments how she wasn't allowed to be angry or even excited or impulsive but i think it doesn't really become clear how deeply wrong the show's conception of gender & patriarchy is (and the implications for the political landscape of the show) until you get into how they destroyed sokka's character too
sokka's whole Complex is born of patriarchy. i'm not trying to do men's rights advocacy here but in my experience when a people is under constant threat, constant assault, constant violence (much of which is gendered) and the traditional "protectors" or "providers" of that people are men, the masculine role becomes protecting women and children. i am not saying this is a good thing or a bad thing but it is true the narrative of violent resistance is overwhelmingly about men. to be a man in a time & place like this means fighting to protect your women, & to die for them is honorable. that is where sokka gets this idea that he has to be a warrior & he has to fight & if necessary die for katara & the rest of the tribe. it's about duty. everyone has a part to play, a role to fill
everyone including women! which is the other half of this. the duty of women is to keep up the home, to maintain a country worth fighting & dying for, to raise children so that the community can have a future. it becomes especially obvious in the context of the show when you see how the nwt lives & in specific how yue lives and dies.
many women participate in patriarchy. many colonized women participate in patriarchy. most of my family comes from or still lives in a country completely devastated by colonialism & its aftereffects & many women in my family believe wholeheartedly in the idea that everyone in the house has a role to play. it's not because these women are stupid or they hate themselves. but when you grow up believing that men & women are fundamentally different, and seeing that women are in specific danger because of their gender, it actually makes a lot of sense to expect the men in your family to protect you, and to raise your sons that way.
in practice that means that men aren't really expected to do anything around the house, especially when there's no actual danger. my aunt literally 2 days ago told me this lol like she doesn't make her sons do anything bc she wants to let their lives be easy before they have to go out into the world & take care of their wives & children.
what does women's liberation look like when an entire community is under threat? colonized women have been dealing with this question as long as colonialism has existed. the writers of this show don't even pretend to understand the question, much less to formulate a thoughtful response to it. they just say oh, well, katara, yue, & suki are all the exact same type of liberated girlboss for whom patriarchy is no significant obstacle.
which brings us back to sokka lol. sokka, at the beginning of the show, has completely subscribed to patriarchy, has integrated it into his sense of self. he has a lot of flaws, but he also has a lot of really good traits. his bravery, sense of honor, loyalty, work ethic, selflessness, all of this came from him striving to be a good man. he would die to protect katara, because she's his sister. he also has her wash his socks & mend his clothes, because she's his sister. even after he meets suki, humbles himself, & expands his view of the role a woman can play, he doesn't completely disengage from patriarchy. at the end of the day he believes in his soul that a good man's duty is to fight & if necessary die for his people, & that's exactly his plan. this is a very real psychic burden. pre-aang, it's also largely fictional & completely ridiculous. we're SUPPOSED to think it's ridiculous. he's spending his time training babies & working on his little watchtower. the swt hasn't been attacked since their mother was killed because it has been completely stripped of all value or danger it once held for the fire nation, & everybody knows this. there is very little "men's work" left, aside from hunting & fishing, which is so damaging to sokka's self image he resorts to toddler bootcamp to feel useful. the contradiction here is comical. it's also completely devastating. that's supposed to be the fucking POINTTTT like colonialism & patriarchy convinces this young boy he needs to be a soldier & die for his family. & you know what he does? He acts like a young boy about it. they didn't just leave this unexplored in the remake they completely changed the circumstances to 1. make sokka incompetent for some reason 2. make his "preparations" seem less ridiculous. Which ruins the whole character. Possibly the whole show.
all this makes the writing of katara & the other women infinitely more offensive to me. katara is a good character because she believes in revolution. she wants to liberate her people from imperialism, & she wants to liberate women from colonial gendered violence, traditional patriarchy in her own culture, & the complicated ways those things interact. it is LITERALLY the first thing you're supposed to learn about her. she's the PERFECT vehicle to address the question of women's liberation under colonialism. one of the things i was most looking forward to seeing in this show was how labor is distributed in a place where almost everything that needs to get done is "women's work" & how it affects katara & sokka's day to day relationship when their lives weren't at risk constantly. what actually are her responsibilities every day, & how do they compare to sokka's? how does her grandmother enforce these traditions with katara & sokka, & how is that informed by her own experiences in the nwt? what does patriarchy look like in a tribe made up of mostly women & children? it's so important to who katara is & what she believes! but why bother exploring any of that when u could instead make her a shein model who has nothing in common with the source material except her hairstyle lol.
yue is actually even worse to me bc yue is supposed to be sokka's counterpart. she's supposed to show you how destructive it is for women specifically to internalize this gendered duty so completely. it sucks for sokka, but he is a man & thus his prescribed role gives him some agency. yue's role affords her no agency whatsoever, & this is the POINT. to make her someone who's allowed to break things off with her fiance if she likes, who sneaks off to do what she wants when she's feeling stressed, whose will is respected as a monarch, like what is even the point of yue anymore? in the original the whole reason she was even allowed to spend time with sokka was because her father knew she was with a trustworthy boy. her story completely loses all significance when the dimension of patriarchy is removed from it. the crux of her whole story is that she is not just a princess but the literal & spiritual representation of the motherland. that's what women are supposed to represent during wartime, at the cost of their own sense of self. in order to fulfill her duty to her people she gives her life to them in every single way that matters.
it's just so unbelievably frustrating (and WRONG) that the only types of characters for these writers are "soulless misogynistic fuck" and "liberated american-style feminist." there's no nuance at all! they don't bother exploring how real love manifests in patriarchal communities, & how patriarchy defines the limits of that love. or how for so many of these people their idea of goodness, morality, & honor is gendered. or how imperialism affects not just individuals but entire cultures & their conceptions of gender. but why do any actual work when you could completely change sokka & katara's general demeanors, their entire personalities, & their roles in the tribe so you can dodge any & all nuance
Anyways. in conclusion. it was bad
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webslingingslasher · 3 months
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hii!! can you do one where situationship!peter like yells at trouble or something along those lines or is like embarrassed to be seen w her (i jsut wanna read something angsty 😭😭)
no rush ofc!! hope u had a good new years 🎀
added these two asks together <3
what do u think that frat!peter would do if he made trouble cry, like it was his fault
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when peter got a congratulatory clap on his shoulder with a 'heard you got cuffed up. good for you, man.' he brushed it off. peter had a good guess on why someone made that connection, he's been a little handsy with you at parties, and on campus. it's a natural thought.
when peter got nudged by a member of another frat, and a 'congrats, bro. she's a hottie.' he felt confused.
the third time it happened, while at his own house, peter finally asked what was up. 'where did you hear that?' a punch to his arm, 'your chick. she's telling everyone you're her boyfriend.'
and that? it made his blood boil.
'she's lying, i'm not dating anyone.' the brother's eyebrows raised, 'oh. i mean, i guess she told ja-' peter spoke up louder, 'she's a fucking liar.' the brother leaves it alone.
peter was almost pacing his floor while waiting for you. you've brought it up a thousand times, he's made his opinion very clear, and yet you're going behind his back and telling everyone he's the one thing he's not.
you don't notice his distaste, reaching out for a kiss you're dodged. peter wants to scoff at your pout, no wonder you feel sad, your boyfriend refused your touch.
'anything you wanna tell me, trouble?'
you're immediately taken back by his tone. 'anything that might get back to me?' you have a sinking feeling you know what it's about, you didn't know it would be whispered about, but you should've.
but, you won't put your foot in your mouth yet. 'i don't think so.' peter lets out a dry laugh, 'no? there's nothing that you did that makes you look fucking crazy?'
you swallow hard, is that what he thought of you? if so, he's wrong. 'i'm not crazy.' peter throws his hands up, 'really? okay, let's see if we can figure this one out together. i'm not your boyfriend, but apparently you're telling people i am. is that supposed to make you look sane?'
it's downright mean. 'you're being very condescending right now, peter. i don't like it.' peter's loud with his next sentence. 'just how i don't like being called your fucking boyfriend?'
your world comes crashing down. how could he be so brutal with such ease. it's so harsh you can't swallow back your emotions.
tears blot at your eyes while your lower lip trembles. 'is the idea of being with me that bad?' peter feels as crushed as you look. once it starts you can't stop, and to break down in front of peter, after he just called you fucking crazy, makes you dehumanize yourself.
you huff small breaths and try to wipe away the tears as they fall. you struggle to say your words without pausing to gasp. 'you didn't even... ask why.' it brings a new wave, he's being silent and you think it's over and final and you didn't get a chance to plead your case.
'i need... to leave.' you can't breathe, you can't even feel your feet when you move. you don't make it far because peter's in front of you and using his chest to back you up.
'alright, alright. just stop crying, okay?' peter doesn't know what to do because he's never actually made a girl cry that hard, or at least in his face, making him aware of his actions and how he could've tried to approach this in a calm way.
'you hate me,' you gasp, 'and you think i'm crazy,' another gasp, but this time you're scooped into his hold. 'stop. please, stop. please stop crying.' peter thinks if he squeezes you hard enough he could piece the parts he ruined back together.
'i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.' peter doesn't know what he wanted, but it wasn't a pleading apology coughed out between sobs. fuck, he was mean, wasn't he? 'stop it, trouble. just breathe, alright? it's done, okay?'
oh, peter's shit at this. you cry even harder, 'i know we are. i'm so sorry, i'll tell everyone i made it up and... and you-'
'we're not done. the conversation is done. just please stop fucking crying.' peter can't stress it enough because he feels so guilty he's about to start crying in solidarity.
'no! not until, not until you hear-'
'i'm not going to listen to anything until you can say three words without holding your breath.' it's useless, 'i think i'm dying.' you don't know how, but you're held even tighter to his chest, 'you're not dying. you're upset because i said mean things.'
you're able to take a deep breath, it feels good. 'you did.' peter can finally relax, you're not on the verge of passing out anymore. 'i know. i was really mean, wasn't i?'
'yeah.' fuck, he really, really hates how miserable he made you. peter cares about you, it's the one thing he makes sure to tell you, but he doesn't think you talk to the people you care about that way.
'i promise i'm not crazy, i just-'
'you're not crazy and i should've never said that.' you try to keep your face tilted down when peter pulled back, but he was adamant on having you look at him.
'i'm so sorry, okay? i was caught off guard by all these comments today and i took it out on you. you're right, i should've asked why. but i didn't, and i'm sorry.'
'jackson ruth got all weird and touchy at his party last week and i just blurted out that you were my boyfriend so he'd leave me alone and i swear i didn't mean for him to have it spread.'
you hate that you made him ashamed, maybe you said that part out loud too because you think you saw something break inside his eyes.
peter softly cups your face, any stray droplets cleared with a brush of his thumbs under your eyes. 'i'm not ashamed of you, i'd never be ashamed of you. you're my baby.'
hook, line, and sinker.
'you are always allowed to use my name if you need to, i promise. i was a dick and i made you cry and now i feel like shit that i made you feel like shit, and now i feel even shitter because i'm somehow making this about me.'
you wrap your hands around his, you'd rather him keep his hold. you feel special. 'do you mean it?' peter nods softly, he leans down for a kiss. it's warming, your chest blossoms wide.
if you were fucking crazy, hypothetically, you'd claim the accusation boldly when he says 'on everything i love.'
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