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tamtheshihan · 9 months

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Jin & Xiaoyu in Tekken 8

This is a couple I’ve wanted for years and its safe to say Tekken 8 may just give them the room to be an actual couple once and for all. If you are obsessed with this fighting game franchise as much as I am and have been waiting as long as I have, Jin and Xiaoyu are a ship that in my opinion should have sailed loooooong ago. Xiaoyu is the sunshine and Jin is the one in need of that sunshine.

Their relationship seems to be more grounded and cohesive this time. No longer the delusional and obsessive teenager chasing the handsome and mysterious bad boy, but now as two young adults who respect one another whilst realizing and understanding underlying feelings and the role each plays in the other’s life.

Now before I get to it, I am fully aware that there are millions of people who are against them being a couple. “Oh Xiaoyu’s annoying, Jin doesn’t care for her, JinXiao shippers are delusional”, YADA YADA. Be that as it may, I am 100% behind Jin and Xiaoyu. This post is not for you!

Its shaping up to be Jin and Xiao as endgame and here’s why… Get comfortable because it’s a long one…

Starting off, Japanese men are not the most romantic and are considered shy in those kinds of contexts- as most Japanese people are. Japanese people are not big on pda and being straightforward. Commonly seen in manga and anime. Protagonist in most cases will literally do everything else in a story before worrying about their relationship- telling the girl or guy how they really felt. And it is usually the very last thing we get, if we get it at all. Creators/writers will hint at certain things subtly and you usually have to be aware of it. It’s a staple in Japanese storytelling and Tekken is no exception. It’s a fighting game people, so fighting is the main focus while something like romance is typically placed on the backburner.

With that said, Jin is yet another example of this. He crosses me as the type to be very loving but not in a showy kinda way. I’m certain Jun showered him with love and affection. Her very existence is love and affection. She is mama Kazama- Jin’s whole heart which was taken away from him very early. So being caring and affectionate is something we all know Jin is capable of doing. It’s just that his life took a course that changed him in a way that he needed to adapt to. The mishimas and the devil gene are no place for the kind boy who was raised on the almost remote island of Yakushima. Never having to deal with anything even close to his life after meeting Heihachi. I say this to not right any of his wrongs but to say that you can become a product of the things you go through in life.

Jin is capable of a lot but had to put a lot on the backburner because he was dealing with a situation that was thrown onto him. He didn’t ask for any of it but it was time for a boy to become a man. He no longer had Jun’s kind and touching words, but rather memories of her precepts and warmness to guide him, a grandfather whom he became to trust betrayed him in the worst way, and a father who could care less of his existence.

Xiaoyu on the other hand, a cheerful and caring young lady who wants nothing but to be there for Jin- someone she seen the good in and became a close friend to. She knows that Jin has only become the way he did to cope with the never ending pain and sadness, having to force away everyone and everything he cares about because he fears he would bring them nothing but harm. Jin was once a kind and sweet guy as Xiaoyu stated. Jin cares for Xiaoyu. He cares A LOT. I feel that he cares as much as he can in a way that he can given his situation. I don’t think I want the person I truly care for to be around me in moments were I lose control of myself either. Trust me, Jin has all the emotional components as the next person, he just doesn’t have the space to show it.

Xiaoyu isn’t an idiot. She understands this and catches what Jin throws. Jin’s life was a hard contrast to Xiaoyu’s fun loving, amusement park going life. Sometimes the best way to get through to someone is to communicate in a way they can understand and this time around she knows what has to be done.

And there are things that Jin is fully aware of. He knows that Xiaoyu will follow him to hell without a second thought. He knows she will come looking for him at the drop of a dime and wouldn’t even consider the harm she would face in pursuing him. HE IS FULLY AWARE of how much he means to her. Which is why he puts that distance between them. Why he disappears without a trace, why he keeps his hardships to himself. He knows Xiaoyu will go to bat for him quick. But he cares for her so much that he doesn’t want her getting caught up in his mess. Jin believes that he doesn’t deserve the love and consideration Xiaoyu gives him but he still cares. His self-hatred is what holds him back from believing he’s a proper member of society. The devil gene thoroughly labels him as an outcast who doesn’t deserve a second shot at life and he doesn’t try to hold onto that hope. So something like a relationship or friendship means nothing if you can never truly have it-and to him- as long as the devil gene exist, none of those things could ever be.

He feels as though he has to deal with everything on his own- end his family’s mess and end the bloodline. Jin always seems ready to give his life away because he feels the world would be better off without him. He looks at himself as an abomination, an existence not of this world. He invalidates how he really feels for what he thinks is appropriate for the situation. He calls it like it is. How can you smile, be a friend, or even have a relationship when you are a ticking timebomb and could ruin everything in the blink of an eye?

He's aware that Xiaoyu is going to give it to him straight, cut no corners. He knows she wants the best for him. He knows she’ll tell him that what he thinks of himself isn’t true. He knows that she can read him like a book. He knows she truly cares.

Their special interaction in Tekken 8 is long overdue. It shows exactly what their reunion should be. An abundance of emotions that look almost impossible to interpret. Xiaoyu- happy, relieved she found her man, but also with restraint trying to approach the situation another way, and there’s Jin- sheepish, unable to face Xiaoyu, not sure how she feels. Awkward but both push forward to paint a better picture together this time around. He knows she knows all the things he’s been doing and she knows that he knows but wants to move forward and be able to aid him in the fight. He’s always been much more softer in tone and demeanor with Xiaoyu. He calls the girl “Xiao”for goodness sakes, and in Japanese society people don’t usually do that unless they are really close and have a bond. She calls him “Jin”, no suffix just Jin. She even came out and said that "an exchange of blows can be revealing". Now if that's not obvious...

Sometimes love comes at the right time, and you have to be ready. The love was definitely there, feelings were definitely mutual, they were just shown very differently. In a lot of ways they just had to get themselves together and figure some things out. Besides the romantic part, Jin and Xiaoyu did a lot of growing up. I mean a lot. Look at those two. Xiaoyu LOOKS more mature. SHES A WOMAN NOW. Jin LOOKS certain in his actions and seems to have much more confidence and resolve. This is a man and a woman. I believe they are ready this time.

In a lot of ways Xiaoyu is what Jin needs- that reassurance, that support, that sunshine, that stick beside you type of thing.

And with Jun officially back, Jin’s life will definitely brighten up but with Xiaoyu included… That’s the ideal situation for me!!

I can go all day on these two but in conclusion, Jin and Xiaoyu are a pair that is definitely hard to come by and one of my favorites especially in games. It doesn’t make any since how long I have waited for an interaction between these two where they finally appear to be on even footing, on the same page, and know what they want.

#tekken #tekken 8 #jin kazama #ling xiaoyu #jin x xiaoyu #jinxiao

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fdelopera · 2 years

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An Autistic Perspective on Moon Knight (or, Why Steven Grant is not the only autistic alter)

Sooo Moon Knight really hit me hard. Especially as an autistic person. It hit me so hard, in fact, that it’s brought me back from my Tumblr hiatus. (I haven’t posted since 2018? what???) It was euphoric for me to see an autistic character operate as a superhero within the MCU. Especially Steven. Though Marc and Jake are also autistic — we’ll get to that.

Steven Grant as the audience surrogate wasn’t written as autistic in Jeremy Slater’s original script for the series, but Oscar Isaac took one look at him and basically said, “I’ll relate to this guy more if he’s on the spectrum.” As an autistic person, I actually love that. This choice doesn’t feel exploitative to me, like Rain Man does, for instance; instead, it feels like I’m being seen. I found it meaningful hearing Oscar Isaac say that part of his way into figuring out this role was through delving into a character who happens to be on the spectrum.

I will say that at least to my eye, Oscar Isaac has created a reasonably authentic on-screen portrayal of an autistic character, at least compared to the typical overblown Sheldon Cooper-style of characterization. It is also amazing to see an autistic superhero who is capable, courageous, and strong, even in their most vulnerable moments. Too often, we are portrayed in media as being incapable of having agency within our own lives.

So, in the future, I want to rewatch Moon Knight and analyze the scenes that were particularly impactful for me from the perspective of autistic experience.

But for this post, I want to talk about autism within the context of trauma and mental health. There is an important distinction to be made between Autism Spectrum Disorder and DID in relation to this show, and I haven’t seen a lot of people discussing it in depth.

I am writing this analysis because I believe that an autistic perspective can add some context to certain crucial aspects of this show.

I also want to acknowledge that there is a high degree of co-occurrence between autism and dissociative conditions, including DID. The extreme and constant overwhelm caused by our autistic neurology can lead to dissociative coping mechanisms.

For example, in addition to being autistic, I also depersonalize and derealize, which stems from my sensory processing and social processing issues. Ever since childhood, I dissociate when my nervous system gets too jangled and I’m unable to process the chaos of the world around me.

If Steven Is Autistic, So Are Marc and Jake (and here's why):

I've been seeing a lot of people online celebrating Steven as an autistic character, as in, “Steven Grant is the MCU’s first canonically autistic superhero!” Now, don’t get me wrong, Steven totally is a well-portrayed autistic character; however, I haven’t seen very many people involving Marc and Jake within that discussion of on-screen portrayals of autism.

But if Steven is meant to be on the spectrum, Marc and Jake should be recognized as being on the spectrum as well.

To treat Steven as the only alter who is autistic can inadvertently raise the specter (pun intended) of a harmful and outdated theory on the cause of autism.

So, I want to address two questions: What does (and doesn’t) cause autism? And why are Marc and Jake also on the spectrum if Steven is?

1. Autism Is Epigenetic:

Autism is a genetically inherited neurological variation. It is epigenetic, meaning that there are both genetic and environmental factors that affect each individual’s experience of autism, but you can’t “become” autistic without the genetic factors being present. And if you do have the epigenetic makeup for autism, it is likely that you will have some degree of autistic experience. We still don’t know exactly what this epigenetic makeup is, and I for one hope that we never find out, because Autism $peaks is ready with pitchforks and a eugenics campaign to remove us from humanity as soon as this discovery is made.

Autism’s etiology is not trauma-based. In other words, traumatic experiences can’t “make” someone autistic. However, back in the 1940s, Freudian psychiatrists Bruno Bettelheim and Leo Kanner came up with the “refrigerator mother” theory of autism (they applied it to schizophrenia, as well). They believed that if a mother was neglectful or abusive towards a young child and withheld her love during a critical developmental period, she could cause her child to become autistic. They believed that autistic people could be “cured” of their autism with the right amount of psychoanalysis. These psychiatrists and their disciples subjected countless autistic people to this “treatment” (i.e., torture) for decades.

The "refrigerator mother" theory of autism (and schizophrenia) has since been disproven. The theory was finally rejected in the 1990s when studies of identical twins showed that autism has a high degree of heritability (current research shows that autism’s heritability may be as high as 90%). If you are autistic, the environment (i.e., the people, places, and things around you) will shape your experience of autism, but your environment alone can't “make” you autistic if you don’t have the genetic predisposition for it.

2. If a System Is Autistic, Each Alter Can Have a Unique Experience of Autism:

To frame all of this within the context of Moon Knight, Wendy Spector’s abuse couldn’t “cause” autism within Marc’s system. To put it more bluntly, trauma couldn’t “make” one alter autistic (i.e., Steven), while the rest of the system remained completely allistic.

I know that a lot of you know this; I’ve just seen some troubling posts about this online from people who are neither a system nor autistic, and I needed to say something. Steven isn’t “the MCU’s first canonically autistic superhero” — the system is.

If we describe Steven as autistic, it’s important to acknowledge Marc, Jake, and the other alters within the system as autistic, as well. They would each have their own unique experiences of autism.

Now, there is a whole other discussion to be had about whether the writers and directors of Moon Knight knew this (that’s a big topic for another time). However, my understanding from listening to Oscar Isaac’s interviews and watching his performance is that his intent was to portray the system as neurodivergent, and not just Steven.

As portrayed in the show, Steven seems to do the least amount of masking (i.e., learned behaviors that hide autistic traits in order to protect the individual from harm), which makes him “appear” more autistic to an outside observer.

Within Marc’s portrayal, he seems to have learned to mask more consistently (which would make sense, since he protects Steven physically), and so he behaves in a way that could be interpreted as more allistic.

EDIT: On further re-watches of Moon Knight, while Marc often protects Steven physically, Steven is more of Marc’s emotional and spiritual protector, as I write about in this post. Marc is more of a trauma holder, and he may mask to keep people at bay to avoid further trauma.

As for Jake, it’s hard to tell his degree of masking, since we see him for only a few brief scenes. But extrapolating from his role as an physical and emotional protector in the system, it’s possible that he has learned to mask quite effectively, as well.

As we grow older, many of us autistics learn to mask quite convincingly, myself included. Masking is exhausting, and I hate it, but for me it is what is necessary to have a job. A few people that I work with know that I’m autistic, but most don’t, and I’m careful about who I tell. It also helps that I run my own business, and so I have some say in the clients that I choose to work with.

In the future, I want to talk about scenes from the series that spoke to me as an autistc person, and I'll include Steven, Marc, and Jake in that analysis. There are so many moments where Oscar Isaac makes character choices that resonate with me from an autistic perspective. But that’s for another time. Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. :P

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #oscar isaac #moon knight thoughts #i clearly have a lot of thoughts about this #ive been seeing some discourse online and i had to say something #this show just means a lot to me #and I want people to recognize marc and jake as autistic because they deserve to be seen #steven is still my fave because he is like the unmasked me i wish i could be all the time #but i have become more like marc as ive gotten older

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a-better-hope · 1 year

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When you meet a good man

A good man, they say, is hard to find. That's possibly true, though not as true as some would like to believe. Men had to unlearn how to be men in the face of feminism, which robs us of our God-given drive to love, protect, and provide for those God puts in our lives. I often have the urge to help a woman (say she's stuck in a snowbank or can't lift something), but unless she asks, I hesitate. Why? I don't want to be the creepy guy no one asked for but showed up anyway. I'm sorry, but that's the world now.

These are some things I gathered about good men. These are not all me (I'd like to think I'm a good man), but I am some of these things. I will say this: a good man is a game-changer, not just for women but everyone they affect. When a woman loves a man, that love multiplies. She gives him much more than just herself. It's hard to explain, but that's how it works. Women are amazing and created by God to do certain things. What they do, I cannot. What men do, women are not built to do. That's why good men are irreplaceable.

Many times, good men are cast aside, yet many women ask, "Where are the good men?" You've met them, but you cast them aside. It wasn't what you were looking for. We don't have the flash that bad men have. We are often considered boring. Bookish. Nerdy. But we are drama-free and dependable. We come in all shapes and sizes. There's one that fits you, too! What I've seen is women expect all men to act alike. Good men don't act like the others, though. You have to change your expectations. He's going to treat you better. It's going to feel weird at first, especially if you've been with a man for any length of time who wasn't good for you. You've been programmed to expect to be treated a certain way, and a good man will challenge your expectations. That's a good thing!

A rule of thumb is this: men are taught from a young age how to treat a woman, yet they are not taught what to expect from a woman. The reverse is true for women. They are taught how to expect being treated by a man, yet they aren't taught how to treat a man. Typically, that's how that goes. A good man will treat you well. You will be his one and only. Other women don't hold a candle to you. It's going to feel weird because you are used to trying to keep a man's attention on you, but you don't have to work for his attention. You already have it. What do you do now? Is there something wrong with him? He must be a beta, right? Alphas are always on the prowl. That's a perversion of masculinity that more closely hews to the animal kingdom than how a godly human male who loves a woman will act. You won't merely be an option to a good man. You'll be his everything. If a man loves a woman, she is more than enough for him. He won't want more. Except more of her, perhaps.

He has a life. He has hobbies. He devotes his time to things he cares about. And one of those things is you. He should make time for you. He doesn't have to devote all day every day to you, but he's gotta be there when you need him. If he's always working, for example, that's a form of infidelity, in my mind. A man who works 16 hours a day isn't rare, but he also needs to take care of those around him. If a man lives and breathes his work, there may be some internal issues he needs to take care of and perhaps needs to downshift. Your people are more important than you and your thing that you do. Your girl is important. Your family is important. Be there. A good man will agree with this sentiment.

He will respect your wishes. He will also avail himself to a certain amount of abuse from you, but this will damage your relationship. Rectify that before it goes too far and you lose him. A good man will often take a lot of abuse from his girl or his family. He won't take it personally. And then one day he does. Men are good at dealing with friction. We like conflict, in general, but we don't from our loved ones. Don't push him too far. You may not get him back. I've been there. If you don't value, appreciate, or love him, eventually he will figure it out. We are conditioned to accept pain in all areas of our lives for extended periods of time, but we shouldn't have to endure it from you. I'm not saying relationships should be a rose garden. None of us expect that. We fix things. We encounter problems and want to fix them. Including what's going on with you. We show up and put in the effort because that's how we are built. Don't push that mechanism to the point of breaking. That's all I'm saying.

He will undo the damage done by an inferior male. Dads. Exes. Whatever. He will step up to the plate and cause you to unlearn all that crap. You will trust again. You will love again. He will make it happen. Not because he's trying. Just by virtue of being virtuous. If he's a godly man, you will also feel God's love flowing through him. Not only that, but he will lead you closer to the Lord. If you find a man like that, you are blessed.

He will help you heal. If you spent x number of years in a bad relationship, expect to heal under his care and guidance. Don't kick against the pricks, so to speak. It may be difficult for a time to understand the conflicting emotions you feel. You expect him to do those bad things to you, but he won't. He's there to protect you. Eventually your misgivings will give way to trust and you will feel the safety and security of his arms and appreciate it for what it is. It's love. You're feeling his love. You didn't know what you were feeling, but now you do. You're welcome.

You won't have to work for his love and attention. You don't have to attain anything. You already have it. If you feel you have to work for it, that's your old programming. He doesn't expect you to do anything. Just enjoy how he sees you and treat him right in return. It's so easy. This is too easy for a lot of women. They want to pull a man. They want to catch him. If you have to pull him, he's not for you. He should already be there. The stability and lack of drama will feel weird for a while. The need of an abused woman to feel jealousy, inferiority, and low self-esteem are well documented. Those needs will be replaced by something incredibly foreign to her when she's with a good man. It will feel strange to her for a while because she doesn't respond to him in the same way as she's used to. Much of her emotions were hinged on something that was changeable, but this new man isn't like that. He's solid. Something is growing between them, and it doesn't vacillate between hot or cold. She doesn't have to wonder. He isn't pushing her away and alternatingly love bombing her. He's just straight-up loving her. She can push him away and then wonder why he doesn't chase her as hard. Because he respects your need for space. Push him away too many times and he will take that as a no from you. If he knows you've been abused in the past, he will hopefully respond in a firm but loving way to being pushed away because he understands you don't get it yet. You don't see what he's offering you. He isn't disrespecting you by staying close by. He's just waiting for you to see him.

He isn't high-maintenance. But don't neglect him. He doesn't need a lot from you. He isn't needy. But men need some assurance, too. A little goes a long way with a good man. He's kind of like the family dog. Love him once in a while and he's yours forever. You can beat that dog if you want and he will remain loyal, but now it's mingled with fear, and that's a little secret you probably shouldn't know. Yes, you can mistreat him and he will still love you. Treat him right, regardless. Seriously. A lot of women figure this out at some point and they use this fact to gain control of their men. Ladies, you're tearing down your own house with your hands. Men are a bit like machines. You take care of them, and they take care of you.

He will do you more good than harm. If he's a godly man, there won't even be any harm. If you have an abusive past, it will take time for you to realize the harm isn't coming. You're used to trusting a man and feeling his love bombing ... and you wait for him to hurt you, but it never comes. You may actually get disappointed by this fact. You have to unlearn that expectation. This man is a game-changer, remember?

Someday you will forget what wounded you. It may take a few years. You will still carry the memories, but you'll forget the impact. It will be a distant memory. If you put your trust and affection into that good man, I promise you one day you'll forget so much that came before him. When he touches you, you may still expect to be treated like a piece of meat. Unlearn that. This man wants you close to him. He wants to feel you. Open yourself to the love flowing through his hands and arms and chest when he holds you close. He loves your body because it's you. This will blow open your whole world when you accept him loving you for who you are and stop trying to be good enough for him. It won't make sense for a while why he loves you. You don't have to earn it. You're already good enough. He chose you. He loves you. Let him love you. Your heart will respond in time. He wants you to know he understands your need for safety and security before you return his love. You've been vulnerable and mistreated before. He knows what that did to you. He won't let that happen on his watch. His hands tell what's in his heart.

He wants to do things for you. He may not even be that capable of doing them, but let him anyway. All men have this desire. It will make his day. It's part of our core programming to do things for those around us. Someone once said men wouldn't do anything if there weren't women. Well, forget for a moment how that kind of world is even possible and you'll see it's true. We'd still be living in caves or tents. We wouldn't have built cities or skyscrapers or stadiums, museums, or libraries. There would be no poetry, love letters, movies, or books. Let us do stuff for you. It doesn't have to be big stuff. Even if we fix something wrong, give us a pat on the shoulder and a "good job." You have no idea how fulfilling that is for us.

It's important to him what you do, what you want, what you say, etc. If you were with a man in the past who didn't make you feel heard or felt, get ready to have your expectations shattered by a good man. You matter to him. His attention may be on something else a lot of the time. All you have to do is ask him if he has five minutes if you feel something has to be said. Guaranteed he will will break away from everything else and give you that attention. Men are always doing stuff. Tell us you need something from us and it's yours. That other stuff is details. You are the main attraction.

He isn't perfect, but if you let him in, you'll fall in love with him. He may not be the best-looking guy or the most talented, but he's the kind of guy you need.

Don't let what you had in the past dissuade you from experiencing a good man. It may feel strange for a time, but you'll get used to it, and then you'll wonder how you ever did without him. Don't worry, he won't let you do without him, either. He's in this for you. You are his prize.

Thank you for reading. And God bless.

#a good man #meeting a good man #godly man #Christian #Christianity

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phoukanamedpookie · 2 years

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On "Why do people headcanon Azula as a lesbian?"

I originally posted this as a response to a thread, but I think it's important enough to start a new post addressing the rest of fandom about this. It's something that comes up fairly regularly, and it impacts my ability to enjoy the fandom.

Hi. Actual Lesbian™ here.

I know it seems like lesbians are as rare as lion-turtles in this fandom, but we are here, and we are talking about why we see ourselves in Azula. And we notice how you talk about the fact that we see ourselves in this character.

People who ask this probably don't mean anything negative by it, but this thing where they ask non-lesbians to explain lesbian headcanons comes off as a little gross, as if the real question is, "What's wrong with Those People that they see Azula Like That?"

Here’s the thing.

Unless you are a lesbian or go beyond fandom to learn about what it's like to be a lesbian, it may never “click” for you why some people, like myself, gravitate toward reading Azula as a lesbian.

That’s fine. What’s not OK is putting things in the fandom space that suggests that a lesbian headcanon requires proof to be valid, as though viewing her that way is irrational. Non-lesbians may not intend or realize it, but that kind of thing tells me (can’t speak for other lesbians) that I have to to justify seeing this part of myself as part of the worlds, stories, and characters that I enjoy.

And I don’t need that in the places I go to unwind and have fun.

Speaking of which, I’ve never seen people ask fans who aren’t gay men to justify or explain gay headcanons for Zuko, Sokka, Aang, or any of the other male characters on the show. I’m almost certain that's primarily because I don’t typically go for slash ships. That being said, for some reason, it's odd that the lesbian Azula headcanon is one that people need to have explained to them.

I’m not saying that you’re a bigot if you don’t headcanon Azula as a lesbian. But come on. It’s like some of you think lesbians are aliens or something. People have no problem imagining Azula as many things: a dragon, a time traveler, a waterbender, Ozai’s firstborn, Iroh’s illegitimate daughter, a guy. But a lesbian? Oh, no! That’s too much! Where's the logic in that?

I would love to share my thoughts and experiences about lesbian Azula headcanons. Oh, look! I even wrote a post asking for people to talk about Azula and queerness in a non-shippy context! I also started a whole thread asking questions about how Azula navigates being a lesbian in the society and world she lives in. And it’s not just me! Here’s another queer woman talking about how Azula’s behavior parallels certain lesbian experiences!

There’s tons of stuff we can discuss with lesbian Azula headcanons. Does she know she’s a lesbian? Is she out to anyone? Who would she come out to? Under what circumstances would she come out? How would her understanding of herself change over time? Does she immediately recognize that she’s only interested in women, or does she come to it in a more roundabout way? How does she deal with homophobia? How does she navigate a world that expects her to marry a man and have his babies? What would happen if she found community with other queer people? Where, if anywhere, does she see herself reflected in the Fire Nation’s history and culture? How would that affect her? How does the world interpret her lack of romantic interest in those who are not women? And on and on and on.

There’s so many things to discuss that don’t amount to asking, “Why do you have to make Azula a [d-slur]? What's wrong with you?”

#azula #lesbian headcanons #fandom lesbophobia #fandom homophobia

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #Bad Habits!AU

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erratic-brainrot · 3 years

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Stendyle HCs NOW mother fucker 🔫

Okay so this is a very messy list that I’m making at 2:44am, so I apologize if this is very jumbled up. It’s difficult for me to pick regarding headcanons because this is genuinely one of my main ships I focus on far too much.

But to make my life simpler, I’m gonna go with my “top ten”? Stendyle headcanons.

10. They got together during the middle-end of highschool. With Kyle confessing after a long tier of events, and the assistance of Kenny.

Basically with Kyle originally thinking he might be gay (he’s Demi bi in my eyes) because he’s never really “worked” with girls before and realized is crush on Stan. Due to Stan dating Wendy and Kyle’s assumption of him being straight, Kyle resigns to the concept that nothing is ever going to happen so he should just “get over it”… and he kinda does. He still as a crush but is kinda handling it, not letting it impact his friendship snd just tried to ignore it.

However… things get more complicated when his and Wendy’s friendship continues to grow. Shared classes, similar interests, being able to listen clearly to the other, dependability, etc, lead to kyle developing a crush on her… which assured him (though imposter syndrome was still a bitch) that he did indeed like girls on top of guys. Sadly, it presented the harsh fact that Kyle had a crush on two of his closest friends…. Both of which were dating. Kyle trying to repress his emotions as he did with Stan when he was younger.

But… it wasn’t as easy as before… because, unknown to him… they were developing their own crush on Kyle too. Which I tend to headcanon as Wendy and Stan originally starting as a joke of “Kyle be so fine” because I do fake flirty shit with my friends and idk I feel like healthy Wendy and Stan (I only say healthy because it’s more grounded versions of their self, Stan not being super toxic masc and scared with ego; Wendy being more confident as her own ideas as an individual and not caring what others think, and being more willing to tell Stan of what’s wrong directly) would be way more playful teasing. But I digress. The point is that they all do like each other. With pining existing. And Kyle is having a hard time “getting over his crushes” because they are affectionate to him in a passively platonic but edging romantic.

After confiding with Kenny, Kyle is told by Kenny that he should just— ask. Poly stuff kinda takes risk and initiative to start… but Kyle is kinda nervous because of the concept of possibly ruining his friendship with two people, and coming off creepy (due to being forced to witness the concept of predatory fruity folks). Kenny assured him, and coveys the simple plan of literally— just asking Wendy and Stan about possibly being in a polyamorous relationship - semi prompted.

Leading to Kenny asking them in front of Kyle, with both Wendy and Stan agreeing that they be open to it on an individual term, with minor eager presented in their reply.

This, leading to Kyle with help yet again from Kenny, asking Stan and Wendy out in one way or another. It depends on aus and stuff. But I like the mutual pining and Kyle leading the beginning of the relationship. It’s kinda my set base I usually go with, but I don’t mind divergents from this.

9. Wendy and Kyle during cuddling like to lay on Stan typically because he has the most mass on him (as I few Stan as kinda stocky and having actual softness to him)

8. Stan is teased always by Wendy and Kyle for having a “type” aka smart, athletic, determined, semi aggressive people.

7. Kyle is super love gesture heavy, and goes out of his way to show his affections to them with certain efforts. Making homemade date night dinners, editing videos for them, singing songs, surprising them with gifts, etc. He likes romantic gestures a lot because they affirm him on his efforts. It was especially notable when he was semi-closeted still and couldn’t be super public with them. (Both Stan and Wendy really appreciate it. All of them are romantic leaning)

6. They have a lot of rules about boundaries and communications. The main concept being about forwardness/honesty about emotions and actively avoiding repressing feelings against one another and so forth. That rule has honestly lead to a lot of growth and realization on pretty much all their parts. Leading them to understanding a lot of past events due to how all of them view the world and have been treated in regards to their own mental issues or family relations or trauma

5. Wendy and Kyle adore ripping on cartman together due to them both being part of his list of favourite targets. They both want to have hope of Cartman changing (Kyle especially due to his own fears about himself) but express is very unlikely, and that progress takes time. In truth they often are just consensually trauma dumping on each other and expressing weird feelings due to their relationship with cartman- rather than just actively being malicious against cartman. Overall just a healthy moment they joke is just kinda- hating on a mutually disliked person.

4. Stan and Kyle introduce Wendy to a lot of their geeky interests, with her liking a majority of them with varying levels of passion. With DND ending up being her favourite, with her joining in on game nights that Nichole or Kyle hosts. Leading to Wendy and Stan to talk in depth about role playing stories— with Wendy apologizing for her dicky childhood self of calling it lame (a commonality between Wendy, Kyle, and Stan about being overly apologetic of past wrongdoing that made sense at the time, especially as kids. Where they honestly don’t need to apologize for it, because the apology is shown in action and sometimes doesn’t need to be verbalized. But regardless, it’s appreciated) ALSO WENDY ENDS UP BEING A HOME BREW QUEEN

3. Literally all of them are family oriented people. With, even early on in their relationship even talking about having kids when thinking of the future. (Which became a big trend when college was approaching them) Kyle expressing his want to adopt a kid, since Ike life made a big impact on him— as well as knowing a lot of sad shit about foster care and adoption (based on hc through tweek and Kenny respectively). All of them like the idea, though Kyle still wants a bio kid because of old ideas of “passing on your genes” (which has its own complicated thoughts because Kyle kinda isn’t the biggest Kyle fan around). With Stan just expressing that he refuses to ever raise a kid based on ideas of shaming, since it really affected all of them as kids— almost always for the worst.

2. Stan adores styling Wendy and Kyle’s hair, due to him experimenting with his own hair a lot during high school and later developing a genuine interest.

With Stan accidentally starting “fruity hair cut Wendy” trend— aka mostly just getting her into undercuts or funky hair dos. Kyle uses Stan’s desires to just manage his hair better when he gets frustrated.

1. They are very affectionate with one another, aka just really casual hand holding, hugging, kisses, etc. Though it took Kyle and Stan to adjust a bit because of kinda masculine ideas of affection— with Kyle kinda having weird concepts about touch (because of mainly Cartman things in canon tm), they are both shown to be actually touchy people. Like they adore cuddling to death. Physical touch is relieving. With Wendy being the one to encourage it outside of just private cuddle sessions on home dates. All of them working to be unashamed in the idea of casual touch. They aren’t overtly PTA, but are notable in that sense of simple touches of affection.

So yeah, those are some of my headcanons? It’s hard to organize them since I have so many little dumb concepts that relate to so many other things. Like how they approach family stuff, or about Wendy and Stan possibly not being cis, etc. Either way I think this is a decent collection of some of them

#someone teach me how to use tumblr fonts wtf #South Park #wendy testaburger #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #stendyle #stylendy #Stan x Wendy x Kyle #Stan x Kyle x Wendy #Kyle x Wendy x Stan #Kyle x Stan x Wendy #wendy x Kyle x Stan #Wendy x Stan x Kyle #south park ships #headcanons #South Park headcanons

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pale-silver-comb · 4 years

Note

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals.

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong.

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day.

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.)

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

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thekisforkeats · 3 years

Text

Love Languages

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T probably for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set post-MAG 22, with a coda post-MAG 159. Everyone is ND and everyone is trans because that’s just how my personal S1 Archives gang rolls.

CWs: Mentions of ableism and Martin’s mother. I’d say canon-typical worms but the worms don’t really come up except in passing.

I do not know anything about BSL, so I did not try to describe the signs.

Summary: A love language is not just about how you best show love and affection; it is also about the ways you best receive love and affection. And so, for someone like Martin, who shows love by going out of his way to help others, someone going out of their way to help him, well. What better way for him to realize just how loved he is?

--------------------------------------------

The first time Martin went completely non-verbal after starting work in the Archives, it was the morning after giving Jon the statement about Jane Prentiss.

It wasn’t a surprising development, really. Martin didn’t go fully non-verbal that often, but when he did it was almost always a thing that started in the morning and lasted most of the day. Sometimes it wore off by the time he went to bed, sometimes it lasted until the next morning.

After his mother’s diagnosis, he’d been unable to speak for an entire week. That hadn’t gone over well--as much as his mother wanted him to be quiet, she didn’t like the “silent treatment,” as she called it.

Martin hated that she’d called it that, as though his non-verbal episodes were anything he did on purpose. Some days talking just felt like a chore; those days he could get by only forcing words out when he had to. But some days, the worst days, he just couldn’t talk. He could understand other people just fine, he could make noises, sometimes he could even hum. And he could definitely read and write. But speaking words, aloud? No. He could not speak, on these days, however much he may have wanted to.

As Martin grew older and learned more about himself, he learned words and reasons and coping mechanisms. He realized that some of the problem came from dysphoria and the longer he was on hormones the less often it happened. He realized that he was autistic (even if he never got diagnosed), and learned how to handle the episodes that still occurred. He took sign languages classes because it was a good and useful thing to know regardless, to be able to communicate with more people.

As many Deaf people had learned before Martin, he’d found himself in plenty of situations when nobody around him knew BSL, so he’d found a phone app that let him type out things he wanted to say and repeated them in a tinny, mechanical voice. Feminine, but he found it didn’t cause dysphoria; it wasn’t his voice. It was the app speaking for him, a robot lady translating his words.

Martin was fairly certain he was going to need the robot lady to speak for him today, and he was dreading the whole idea. The app got him a range of reactions from scorn to derision to faux sympathy. The last time he’d done so at work, the Institute library staff had regarded him with such pity that he’d called in sick the two other times it had happened since.

He’d woken early, because he was always awake fairly early, to ensure he looked presentable and got to work on time. He did not want Jonathan “Crisply Professional At All Times” Sims giving him that look again. The particular look that was “I highly disapprove of your sartorial choices but I’m not going to get into it right now because I have so very much else to do. Nonetheless, if I could fire you for what you’re wearing I would.”

Jon had a lot of looks. Martin fervently wished he could stop categorizing them; he very much disliked his boss, and very much wanted to stop thinking about Jon quite as much as he did.

Jon was attractive, that much Martin had noticed the first day he’d come in, with a jawline Martin would’ve loved to trace with his fingers, eyes sharp and deep and intelligent, salt-and-pepper hair that Martin would have tangled his fingers in gladly.

Except, of course, that Jon was also a prick who didn’t like Martin one bit and made that very clear. He’d put down on record that he thought Martin would “contribute nothing but delays.” Martin was not such a sucker for punishment that he would put up with someone who hated him just for a pretty face. The tiny potential blossom of a crush had been, well, crushed five seconds after it had poked its head above ground, by Jon’s declaration that he could dismiss Martin if he didn’t resolve the “dog situation” immediately.

Martin counted his lucky stars every day that Jon had not, in fact, dismissed him, despite having had to deal with a doggy mess. The luck was really in having Tim around, Martin figured; Jon actually seemed fond of Tim, and the other man had managed to smooth the entire situation over.

Martin had fallen asleep last night thinking about the new look Jon had given him yesterday: concerned. Truly, genuinely concerned, which had rather taken Martin aback. He’d been certain Jon wouldn’t believe him, would scoff and roll his eyes at the entire statement, and instead he’d just looked… concerned.

And then Jon had offered Martin the cot that he’d woken up in this morning.

It wasn’t the look of concern that had Martin non-verbal, though; of that he was certain. It was the stress of the last two weeks, and dumping out the statement yesterday, and all the whirl of figuring out how to live in the Archives. Jon’s insistence on going with him to pick up basics with a toothbrush at the convenience store, and then coming back to be sure he was okay. Jon finding clean sheets and discussing how he’d do his laundry. Jon had expensed clothing bought online to the Institute, including next-day shipping, because he’d “lost access to his flat and thus his wardrobe in the line of duty.” It had all been bewildering and overwhelming and it was no real surprise that Martin was in the state he found himself when he woke.

Martin had known as soon as he’d opened his eyes. It was just there, the feeling of nope can’t talk today. He’d pulled on his binder and the same clothing he’d worn the day before and then fumbled around for his phone. Which… he didn’t have. The damn worm-hive-lady had stolen it from him. Well, shit.

He managed to avoid having to figure out how to talk while he went out to get breakfast, just pointing at a scone in the display and smiling at the guy behind the counter as if he wasn’t secretly irritated by the price of everything in Chelsea. By the time Martin got back, Jon was already in his office, so thank God he’d avoided that awkward interaction. He went to make himself tea, and had his breakfast in the breakroom, and brushed his teeth, and then went to get started on…

Wait. He didn’t even know what they were working on right now.

Well, he wasn’t going to bother Jon about it; however nice he’d been last night it surely must have worn off by now, and Martin had no interest in summoning one of his boss’ looks this early in the morning. Normally he’d still be on his commute at this hour.

After a moment’s thought, he went to go see what they’d recorded in his absence, and soon had a stack of statements on his desk. They’d gotten through five statements in the two weeks he’d been gone. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe Martin did contribute “nothing but delays.”

Pushing the thought aside, Martin focused on listening to the tapes, and was just finishing up listening to the second half of Father Edwin Burroughs’ statement when Tim came into the shared office the assistants used.

“Hey, you’re in early. You get the email?”

Martin raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

Tim snorted. “Jon claims he’s got something to warn us about, something that ‘won’t parse properly through digital means.’” He rolled his eyes. “Which is Jon-speak for ‘it’s a weird thing and I don’t want to admit it’s a weird thing because I have to keep my skeptic hat on to preserve my self-image.”

Martin chuckled in solidarity, then gestured toward the door to Jon’s office, to indicate that’s where their boss was.

“Not coming?” Tim asked, his own eyebrow raised. When Martin shrugged, he said, “Well, I guess if you didn’t get the email…” Tim also shrugged, then said, “Guess I’d better get it over with. Wish me luck!”

Martin gave him a thumbs up.

When Sasha came in, Martin silently directed her to Jon’s office as well, then heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t had to explain being non-verbal at all yet, and it was already nine o’clock. Maybe if he was lucky, Jon would warn them off talking to him and he’d manage to make it the entire day without having to explain the whole “non-verbal” business to anyone he saw on a regular basis.

Alas, it was barely thirty minutes later that Tim and Sasha returned to talk to him, both wearing expressions of mingled concern and guilt. When they spoke it was a flood of the usual, expected platitudes:

“We’re so sorry!”

“We didn’t know!”

“Are you okay??”

And such like.

Martin shrugged and nodded and shook his head in all the right places, and evidently Jon had played them the tape of his statement so he didn’t have to explain it all again (thank God), and he thought maybe, maybe he could even figure out what statement they were working on right now if he just listened to their chatter after they were done with the niceties, but then…

Well. Then Timothy Stoker happened.

Which is to say, Tim actually looked at Martin, and said, “You’re being awfully quiet. You sure you’re okay?”

And then he and Sasha just… sat there, looking at him expectantly.

Martin sighed and reached for a piece of scrap paper and wrote, I’m autistic and sometimes I go non-verbal. Today’s one of those days, but I don’t have my phone anymore, so no communication app.

As he held up the paper so the others could read the words, Martin braced himself for the ensuing reactions. Pity, probably, like those in the Institute library, and he couldn’t even call in sick to avoid it; he’d rather have scorn and derision. At least those reactions were honest.

What he got from them was not pity, however, nor even scorn.

Sasha hummed. “Autism explains a lot, actually. Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

Tim grinned and clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Yeah, why didn’t you just say so? It’s fine, you’ve been through an ordeal. And so you know--you’re hardly the only neurodivergent in the Archives.”

Martin blinked at Tim, then wrote: Wait, what? Who…?

“Would you believe me if I said all of us?” Tim said with a grin. “I have ADD, Jon’s… well… he’s Jon, and as for Sasha…”

Sasha sighed in fond exasperation and cut in, “Tim…”

“I contend that you cannot be neurotypical, Ms. James. You fit in too well around here.”

“I am not admitting to anything on Institute property,” Sasha said with aplomb. “And you shouldn't have either, but here we are.” She looked at Martin. “If HR finds out and they give you any trouble, let us know and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Tim, in the meanwhile, pulled out his phone. “Here, go ahead and use mine for now, until your replacement gets here or whatever. What’s the app so I can install it for you?”

Martin’s jaw had dropped open. Tim having ADD made sense; what did he mean about Jon, though? And Sasha? And what did Sasha mean about HR? And… and why were they being so… nice? So… understanding? It wasn’t an act, or at least he didn’t think it was. They seemed… genuinely fine with it. Accepting, even.

It was the strangest thing Martin had experienced in a while, and that was including the worm-riddled woman who’d stood outside his door for two straight weeks.

From there the day just… went on as normal. Tim installed the app on the phone, Martin’s robot phone lady spoke for him, the three of them did their work, and everything was fine.

Until, of course, the nature of their work reared its ugly head. They were discussing the statement of Leanne Denikin, case #0051701, which they had yet to attach a pithy name to; hence the discussion. It had long since become standard practice to attach a name to the “weirder” statements, to make them easier to discuss. (Jon insisted on using the case numbers on tape still, which was annoying, given that was the only place he did that.)

Martin was reading through the statement, and he typed into Tim’s phone: What do you think of this bit? “Be still, for there is strange music.”

What came out of the phone’s speakers, however, was garbled static followed by high-pitched screeching that startled Martin so much he actually dropped the phone.

Jon was walking in just as this happened; he stopped in the doorway, blinking. “What on Earth was that?”

“Martin’s robot lady gave Tim’s phone an aneurysm, I think,” Sasha said, eyeing Martin as well.

Martin scrabbled on the floor for the phone, pulled up the app (which had crashed), and typed, I don’t know what happened!! I was just typing in something from one of the statements!

Jon frowned at him sharply. “What are you doing with Tim’s phone? Are you quite well?”

“No, Martin is not ‘quite well,’” Tim said. “Non-verbal for the day.”

Then Jon did something that stunned Martin: Jon signed at him, specifically, “Do you know sign language?” He spoke aloud as he said this, too, but also raised his eyebrows and gave a quizzical tilt to his head to convey that he was asking a question.

Martin blinked rapidly, then signed back: “Yes, actually. But Tim and Sasha don’t.”

Jon nodded, then said aloud, along with signing, “Why are you non-verbal, exactly?”

“I have autism,” Martin signed. “Sometimes talking is overwhelming and sometimes, especially in stressful situations, I can’t talk at all. Woke up that way today. It should be gone by tomorrow morning.” Why was he explaining so much more to Jon than he had to the others? Maybe just because Jon knew sign, and thus could communicate in a language Martin found much easier than even the typing.

Jon frowned thoughtfully, then nodded again. Then, still speaking and signing both, “What were you typing into your phone?”

“Be still, for there is strange music. From the statement.” Martin gestured to the statement on his desk.

Jon’s frown deepened and he repeated the words. “‘Be still, for there is strange music….’” His expression went slack for a moment, and then he shook himself. “Right. Well. Just… just… I’ll be right back.” Then he abruptly turned and left the room.

Tim and Sasha exchanged bewildered looks. Then Sasha asked, “Do you know what that was all about?”

“I forgot Jon knows BSL,” Tim replied thoughtfully. “Hard of hearing on one side. Not that he’d have agreed to interpret all day or anything.”

Martin shrugged. It’s alright, he typed. This works just fine.

“Well, no, obviously not for some things.” Jon had reappeared as suddenly as he’d disappeared, holding a small brown notebook the size of Martin’s hand. “Here,” he said, thrusting the notebook at Martin. “This will work better, for communicating about the statements. You needn’t use it with me, of course, unless signing is also taxing.”

Martin stared up at Jon. There was an entirely new look on his boss’ face. Not any level of scorn or sneer, nor even concern. He was… nervous. Fidgety. Like he was offering a gift that he was afraid might be rejected.

Something went flip in Martin’s stomach and it was like the entire world turned upside down. Suddenly, in light of Jon’s actions in the last 24 hours, he saw the way his boss had acted toward him the last six months for what it was: a defense mechanism. Armor pulled up around someone fragile and soft and sweet, someone so terrified of rejection that he went about making sure it happened preemptively so he wouldn’t be hurt.

Martin had a sudden, fierce desire to hug Jon and tell him everything would be okay. It was so bewildering a sensation--he didn’t even like the man! At all!--that he just took the notebook with a nod and a signed “Thank you,” eyes still very wide.

Jon nodded in return. “You’re welcome.” He let out a breath, and seemed to relax a little. “Well. Then. I think we’ve found the name for this one, given the way Tim’s phone reacted to those words. ‘Strange Music’ it is.” He straightened himself. “Tim, you said something about the organ reminding you of articles you’ve read…?”

Tim nodded, expression suddenly serious. “Yeah. I’ll see if I can find them for you.”

“Right. Well, then, Sasha, if I could ask you to look through the Archive like we talked about? I’m certain we’ve had a statement from Jane Prentiss.” Jon then turned to Martin. “And if you wouldn’t mind helping me with ‘Schwarzwald?’ You used to work in the library, right?”

Martin was still staring at Jon in confusion, but nodded.

Jon actually smiled at him. Faintly. “Well, then, I’m certain you must know where to find the German history reference books, if you could go grab whatever they’ll let you bring down?”

The strangest thing about it was, Jon seemed sincere. Like he actually believed Martin did, indeed, know the library well enough to just… go up there and find the German history reference books. The faint, confident-in-his-assistant smile was a new look, at least directed at Martin; he’d seen Jon look at Tim and Sasha that way many times before.

Martin’s stomach was doing cartwheels. There were butterflies taking up residence in his intestines. His heart was pounding. How had he never noticed how nice Jon’s smile was? Soft and small, like he was afraid to let it actually take up residence on his face for too long.

Oh, God, oh, no. Martin could not fancy his boss. Jon hated him. Or, well, no, evidence suggested that perhaps Jon did not hate him, but Jon most certainly did not fancy him. This crush had to disappear, just as fast as it had come. This would not do.

He was going to be writing poetry again tonight, wasn’t he? Crap.

“Martin?” Jon’s tone was concerned rather than sharp, and the way Jon said his name made Martin want to sink into the floor.

Instead, he scribbled furiously in the notebook and held it up so all three of the others could see: Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about where that’d be. I’ll bring them down as soon as I find them.

Jon practically beamed at Martin’s use of the notebook and he nodded briskly. “Right! I’ll be in my office when you have the books, then.” He started to turn away.

Martin’s heart went pound pound pound because oh wow Jon was really cute when he let that smile take up more of his face. Throwing caution to the wind, he made a noise to get the other man’s attention.

Jon turned around, quirking a brow. “Yes, Martin?”

Martin signed, “Tea?” He, too, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to indicate the question.

Jon nodded. “Tea would be lovely, yes.” He smiled at Martin for a brief moment, and then suddenly looked flustered. He glared at them all. “Anyway,” he snapped in his ‘boss’ voice, the impact of which was ruined by the flush rising in his cheeks, “there’s still work to be done. So let’s… do it.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office.

Had Jon blushed because Martin had offered him tea? Did Jon like his tea that much? Was Martin imagining things? He had to be imagining things. He put his head down on the desk and wrapped his arms over it so he could grab at handfuls of hair. What was happening to him?

Sasha tried to make her voice serious, but couldn't quite manage it past quite clearly holding back giggles. “Mourn for poor Martin, working alone with Jon.” She looked at Tim. “We should call HR preemptively, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Nah, I think Jon’s softening on our boy,” Tim said with a laugh. He reached over to ruffle Martin’s hair with one hand while he took his phone back with the other. “Don’t worry, Marto. I told you he’d come around one day.”

Martin looked up at Tim with a stricken, betrayed expression. In the notebook: Is this how you comfort me in my hour of need??

Sasha shook her head. “For once, Tim’s being serious. You weren’t in the room when Jon explained things to us. He’s worried about you, he doesn’t want you to have to leave the Institute alone, he doesn’t want you to have to look for the Prentiss statement in case it’s ‘too traumatic’ for you to run across on your own. He actually asked us if we thought we should avoid any mention of Prentiss altogether in your presence.”

“I told him no,” Tim said. “I hope that was okay. You seem like you’d rather deal with trauma by facing it and figuring it out, rather than avoiding it entirely.”

Matin gaped at them. Really? he wrote. Jon’s… worried about me? Really? As if he hadn’t seen the evidence just now that Jon was, indeed… softening.

Tim gave Martin a very serious look. “I’ve told you before… I’ve known Jon, well, not as long as I’ve known Sasha, but for a long while now. He’s prickly and thorny, even to people he cares about, but that’s a front and I’ve said so. You just didn’t believe me.”

“In Martin’s defense,” Sasha put in, “Jon’s been awfully ‘prickly and thorny’ to him specifically.”

Tim put up a hand. “Oh, I agree. I have had words with our dear boss about the way he treats Martin, largely because I’m one of the few people he might actually listen to.” He looked at Martin. “I don’t want to take the credit, because it’s really been a remarkably fast turnaround, but I’d like to think I helped, a little.”

Martin frowned thoughtfully. Thank you, he wrote. If Jon’s at ‘I can stand Martin’ instead of ‘Martin is the source of all bad that happens in the Archives’ work might be… better than tolerable, for once.

“That’s the spirit!” Tim said with a grin. “Now, then, Jon did say to get back to work…”

Jon gave Martin another of those soft smiles when Martin brought in the tea, a smile which widened on seeing the stack of books he carried in right after. That afternoon, spent sitting and going through books and discussing the Schwarzwald statement, was the first of many they’d spend together, reading and talking and comparing notes.

Martin was feeling verbal again the next morning, but he kept the notebook. If nothing else, it was a good place to jot down poetry. And it came in handy when he found himself unable to speak the morning after Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Archives.

And the morning after Jon confronted him about his CV.

And the morning after Jon disappeared, leaving Jurgen Leitner’s body at his desk. (Martin blamed that on the corridors more than the body, really.)

Funnily enough, he didn’t need it the morning after the Unknowing. But he kept it with him that day all the same, the first gift Jon had ever given him, and one of the few things he had left of him with Jon in a coma.

--------------------------------------------

When they reached Daisy’s safehouse in Scotland, Martin had hoped he’d somehow manage to dodge the threat of going non-verbal. He’d been the one to drive the car, over Jon’s protests; it was something to focus on, to keep him remembering he was alive and real. He’d clutched the wheel and driven north north north with Jon giving directions in the passenger seat.

Martin had finally figured out that it was the chance to stop and think about trauma that led to his being non-verbal, which was why it was almost always a thing that hit in the morning. Adrenaline would keep him running after a stressful event, and then he’d carry himself through the rest of the day trying to clean up whatever mess had been caused. But sleep was enough for his body and brain to both tell him to stop, to process, to deal with whatever he’d run into.

It was possible, in hindsight, that he’d gone non-verbal more than once since the Unknowing and just hadn’t noticed because he’d been barely interacting with anyone. He’d certainly had a bad bout the morning after his mother’s funeral, dealing with so much misgendering and fake smiles. And there had been more than enough trauma to try to process in the past year, so it must have happened before.

He’d just really, really hoped it wouldn’t now, because he didn’t want to put Jon through that. (Why he thought he was putting Jon through anything he didn’t really want to examine. It made him feel Lonely, and that was bad.)

At any rate, the realization of why he went non-verbal had led to him keeping busy in order to hold it off, in order to hold himself together. So he drove, and he puttered about the cabin poking into cupboards, and he talked to Jon, and he talked to the shop lady in the village, and he brought back food and made dinner with Jon, and everything was good and fine.

And then he woke up the next morning, in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and he could not speak.

There was the smell of bacon and eggs and pancakes cooking, and Martin made his bleary way out into the main room of the cabin and peered at Jon, already up and dressed and cooking.

His boyfriend turned to look at him and smiled, one of those soft smiles Martin had come to love so much. “Sleep well?”

"Not really,” Martin signed. “I mean…” He gestured at his throat.

Jon nodded. “I figured you might feel that way this morning. I, uhh… hold on a moment, I need to….” He grabbed the pan of bacon and moved it off the heat, pulled a pancake off the griddle and deposited it on a plate, then turned off the stove and went to poke around in one of the bags.

Martin chuckled fondly. “What’re you looking for?”

Jon was still digging through his bag. “When I was grabbing essentials at the store, back in London, I was thinking, you’ve been through a lot, and the notebook I gave you before must be full if you even have it anymore. I know you were writing poetry in it, and… oh, here we go.”

Jon came up with another small notebook. This one was not plain and brown, the way the first one he’d gifted Martin all those years ago had been. This one was black, and had silvery stars on its cover that, as Jon held out the book and thus tilted it through the light, shimmered into rainbows.

“Just in case, you know, the shop lady doesn’t know BSL.”

Martin blinked at the notebook.

“It, uhh… I know it’s not your usual style,” Jon said, his voice suddenly nervous. He was looking down at the notebook as he spoke, instead of at Martin. “Not… retro. But… I saw it and I thought of you.” He paused. “That tape, where you were talking to Simon Fairchild. He talked about the ‘cosmic scale,’ and how we’ve never even been alive on that time frame, and you said… what was it? You said, ‘I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.’ And I just… that was… maybe the most… it was very… you. And there were other options, flowers or cursive writing, o-or… I don’t know, they all seemed so obvious, but this…”

Jon swallowed, and finally looked up at Martin. “I thought, after the Lonely, you might like a reminder that, you have value. That… that to me, you shine as bright as any star.” And then he flushed, and Martin knew it was for him, just as he now knew the flushes about tea all those years ago had also been for him.

Martin was gaping. Oh. Oh. Jon… loved him. Which he’d known, intellectually, but the emotional knowledge of it hit him suddenly, took his breath away. He knew it, all at once, in that “oh we could spend the rest of our lives together” way he’d never really thought he’d ever feel.

Jon had clearly misinterpreted the expression; he started stammering, “I-if… it it’s bad, I can… well, no, I can’t take it back, stupid, I should’ve just grabbed the one that had--”

Martin cut him off by reaching out to take the notebook from Jon and reached out with his other hand to cup the shorter man’s cheek. He smiled, and because he’d realized long ago how well Jon responded to physical touch, he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Then he pulled back to put the notebook aside on the counter and signed, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

Jon smiled, both speaking and signing, “I love you, too.”

And for once in his life, Martin knew that to be true, and trusted that knowledge. He was loved. He had been loved, and he would be loved for the rest of his life, whatever state his voice was in.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jon sims #jonathan sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #archives gang #otp: one way or another together #fanfic #my fanfic #ableism tw #jmart #canon tma fic

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mikalara-dracula · 3 years

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💋for Karlheinz, Cordelia, Laito, Ayato, Subaru, Reiji and Azusa

How they express PDA with their s/o

Ft. Karlheinz, Cordelia, Laito, Ayato, Subaru, Reiji, and Azusa

Hi there, Anon!

Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to request again anytime. :))

Karlheinz:

Karl is quite the charismatic type of partner.

Definitely a charmer that can easily bewitch anyone he sets eyes upon.

He comes off as mysterious but is a gentleman to the woman he has an interest in.

That being said, if he desires someone, he’ll have them no matter the cost.

Even though he’s a charmer, he likes to display his affection in lots of ways, but mostly in private.

He loves having you lay down next to him in his bed, where he can caress your face, have you lay on top of him, and share the most intimate kisses with you whilst his hand travels down your spine.

Likes to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close to his torso.

Likes to leave you roses for no apparent reason with small love notes to reassure you of his love for you.

If he’s feeling playful, he’ll pick you up bridal style and spin you in his arms so he can hear your laughter.

It’s literal music to his ears.

“You truly are the rarest beauty any man has come across. How does one even stay away with the way you tempt me with those eyes of yours?”

Cordelia:

Cordelia is a very scandalous woman as we can recall from her character.

She likes to keep her relationship absolutely ravenous and loves the risk of getting caught if she’s seeing more than one person.

When it comes to PDA with her s/o, it can range from being in secret or to being flat-out explicit.

For instance, she enjoys kissing her lover when no one’s looking.

Or, having them wrap their arms around her waist in front of everyone to show that she’s taken.

Loves to leave her s/o wanting and begging for more.

Likes to meet them at odd times (mostly at night) and in places where no one typically goes so they can be alone.

Enjoys sitting down next to her s/o or on their lap.

She really enjoys it if her s/o caresses her face or kisses her hand.

Likes to call her s/o by small pet names like ‘dear’ or ‘darling’.

Loves it when her s/o whispers sweet nothings into her ear whilst they have their arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“I could listen to your sweet voice all day, my love.”

Laito:

Laito is very open when it comes to PDA.

He isn’t afraid to express how he feels at all.

He likes to keep his relationship fun and exciting, which leads him to express his affection to larger extent.

Likes to skip class with you just to make out with you in the vacant halls.

Definitely likes to keep you on the edge and leave you begging for more.

If you both have a class together, he likes to sit at the very back with you, casually stroking your thighs or occasionally slipping his hand in between to make you squirm and blush.

He literally lives for the thrill of almost getting caught by the teacher, and loves seeing the faces you make when he catches you off guard for doing this.

This mf xDD

Likes to whisper perverted things into your ears in the middle of class in hopes that you laugh out loud and that you’d have to explain yourself to the teacher/class as to why you’re laughing.

While you’re walking through the halls at school, he likes to walk slightly behind you and stick his hand under your skirt and feel that area just to throw you off guard.

He doesn’t even mind if the hall is crowded and others are watching, he just loves the thrill of catching you off guard and showing others that you’re his.

“No need to be shy, baby. I can’t help it if you’re tempting me.”

Ayato:

Likes to show his possessive side when it comes to this--that is, is some guy is chatting you up, he won’t hesitate to pull you to his side or wrap his arms around you in front of the guy.

On top of this, he won’t bother to hold back his tongue either and warn the guy to not talk to you.

He constantly has his hands on you to show others who you belong to.

Will make out with you in more secluded areas; is also into pushing you against lockers to do this if the hallway is empty.

During the makeout, he also likes to undo a few buttons of your uniform blouse.

Will also mark you up with hickies and bites in places you can’t hide.

If you’re sitting not too far away from him in class, he likes to pass you notes that say when and where to meet if he wants to drink from you, or just wants to make out.

Or, if it’s none of that, he likes to send you perverted notes, or even lewd drawings that make you whip your head in his direction, only to see him laughing whilst you’re trying not to blush.

Even though Ayato seems like he’s the dominant one in the relationship, you sometimes like to prove him wrong by pulling on the tie of his uniform and pulling him for a kiss in the halls.

Which leaves him beyond shocked and red after you pull away.

He really doesn’t know how to handle it and ends up walking off embarrassed, whilst you just giggle at his flustered reaction.

With you doing this tho, he’s bound to get you back by smacking your bottom in the busy hall and then taking off as nothing happened, leaving you to not only blush at what he did, but also at the fact that other students saw what he did.

It’s honestly a constant back and forth with you two getting back at each other, but it’s what keeps you two on the edge and only leaves you two wanting more.

“Heh, you just can’t stay away from yours truly at all, can you?”

Subaru:

Oh my, he has a hard time with this.

This might be harder than school for him.

He’s quite brash in general and tends to act like he doesn’t care about you when he truly does.

When expressing PDA, he definitely likes it to be private and out of sight from anyone who might linger.

Like a certain fedora-wearing vampire.

He won’t admit it, but he secretly loves it when you sleep in his coffin with him.

It makes him feel warm, a feeling he isn’t too familiar with but loves indulging in.

Likes holding your hand and pulling you into him as you sleep.

Might even steal a kiss from your lips or place one on your forehead while you’re sleeping in hopes that you don’t wake up.

Enjoys being in the rose garden alone with you where he can either drink your blood or share sweet kisses with you.

He doesn’t do this often, but he will pick a rose and give it to you.

Likes to stargaze with you while lying down next to you.

Sometimes picks and places a small flower in your hair, a few soft kisses being exchanged in between as you both view the night sky.

“I know I don’t ever tell you this but . . . you’re beautiful, Y/N.”

Reiji:

Reiji only finds the display of public affection to be rather displeasing and uncivil.

He believes such things should be expressed in private.

But when in private tho, he’s an animal ;)))

Likes to back you up into the bookshelf of his lab and share slow and passionate kisses with you.

When getting intimate, you sometimes like to tease him by slipping off his glasses.

Roams his hands around your body and holds you in place for him to drink from you.

When the moment is right, he likes to look into your eyes and kiss your hand, slowly trailing his kisses up your arm.

Oh Rei you’re such a gentleman ;)))

If you’re working on an experiment with him in his lab, he likes to place his hands on your hips from behind while you’re busy working on something.

Or even wrap them around your waist and rest his head in the crook of your neck from behind.

Will even slightly tickle you or poke your sides while you’re working on something just to distract you.

Likes to watch your subtle movements while working.

When working on an experiment with him, he really likes seeing how focused you look.

If Reiji is feeling a little playful, he’ll play with your hair and stroke/touch it while you’re not looking and immediately return to what he was doing before to avoid getting caught.

He’ll pretend it wasn’t him when you’d accuse him, saying that you’re just imagining things.

Likes to also sit you on his lab bench and straddle you to his liking whilst decorating your collarbone with kisses, hickies, and bites.

“I’m the only one I don’t want you to be quiet for.”

Azusa:

Azusa’s a total sweetheart.

He’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable when it comes to this subject.

Honestly doesn’t mind if PDA between you two is private or not.

It’s whatever you want.

If you feel comfortable expressing PDA around others, he’s more than open to it.

If you’re shy about such things and want to keep it private, he’ll respect your wishes.

He kisses your forehead and your cheek the most.

Is always intertwining his hand with yours.

Likes to lay down next to you and play with your hair, and listen to the sound of your voice as you both exchange conversation.

He also enjoys sleeping next to you, having his arm wrapped around your waist while holding you close to him.

Loves to place sweet kisses or nibble on your earlobe just to hear you laugh.

He really loves giving you Eskimo kisses, mostly because he likes to see the smile that appears on your face each time this happens.

“You are . . . so cute, Y/N.”

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #karlheinz sakamaki #cordelia sakamaki #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #azusa mukami

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animefreak1145 · 3 years

Text

The Irony of Adler and Bell

Call of Duty: Black Ops Analysis of Adler’s Brainwashing

It’s me again. And I’m here with another analysis! This time based solely around Adler. It’s always about Adler. But also Bell.

And this is about the brainwashing of not Bell, but Adler.

We have all had our theories since we first saw Adler getting tortured in the Cinematic Warzone Trailers, shown in Season 3 of COD:BOCW. Our suspicions growing when we see Sus Adler™️ doing what he does best in Season 4 by stealing an important looking chip within the crashed satellite that was taken down. (Also, Hudson, what is wrong with you letting Adler be cleared for a mission when he was just rescued like two weeks ago?!)

And although we did not see him in Season 5, we can all gather that anyone could be potentially brainwashed if you have a certain brand of earpiece. (Woods and Stryker appeared unaffected despite having their own earpieces). So the naive hope and calming words to others that Adler being different and strong is out the window. All it takes is hearing the numbers. What do the numbers mean, Mason?

Besides Bell wasn’t your average run of the mill agent either. An amazing decoder and created codes(I am with the theory that Bell did create the codes for Perseus that we have to decrypt in the game for Operation Chaos and Red Circus) with a brutal close combat skill as well as charming based on how one could talk to everyone and be a social butterfly. Also, able to handle and withstand torture after one hour of leaving Cuba despite previous injuries AND be able to go to Solovetsky/Duga and able to aim and shoot despite having a needle shoved in their eye a few hours earlier.

Bell had crazy skills. Just like Adler does. Bell was brainwashed. So is Adler.

Confirmed with this bundle that will be released. Thank you to @reclaimedbythesea who first found it and pointed it out.

We have the confirmation—the amazing, horrible, war criminal man we all love has become an agent of the man who he swore to chase down and capture/kill for longer than a decade. (Adler said thirteen years in COD:BOCW universe, so 1984 it would be sixteen years. Sheesh. Correct me if I’m wrong. I may be mistaken.) Is it wrong I kinda find it funny? Especially since he did the same thing to Bell—believing it to be necessary. Just as Stitch I’m sure finds it necessary.

It’s just a big brainwash back and forth between these two countries, a race to see who has the most mindless agents on their side in the end. But we’re not focusing on that.

We’re focusing on how Adler’s karma finally caught up to him with all his war crimes. We can infer that he hasn’t just done a cruel action like that to Bell, but to others. “Whatever it takes.” That’s his motto. He’s messed up other’s lives—hundreds, maybe even thousands. The Vietnam War has a deep dirty history, such as the real operation of Fracture Jaw, Operation Ranch Hand with the use of Agent Orange, the Mai(My) Lai Massacre and who knows how many other operations that would/did affect civilians. Not that I would see Adler doing anything like the massacre, but you can’t expect me to not believe that he may have been involved with Agent Orange somewhat? And who knows what other operations and missions he’s done as a CIA agent after the war?

My point is, the man has been gathering karma for awhile. Not just with Bell(I am aware he had his orders in the war, I’m just saying I’m not sure if he feels much guilt about some said orders. Guilt I believe he may has, but I’m not sure it’s a high degree.) Of course, Bell isn’t a saint either. They were willing to kill millions with Perseus after all. A wayyyy higher body count than Adler. And who knows what Bell did with Perseus even before the Greenlight plan? Didn’t seem to mind millions blinking in an eye, so must be pretty cold or delusional about the whole free world killing their country thing. Thank you @yunatheintrovert for this post pointing out and showing a hint of just how not good a person Bell was.

I’m not going to say they deserved what happened to them due to Adler. I feel for Bell. I really do. Just like I can’t say if Adler deserves it for everything—just can’t say that because I’m not at liberty to judge other’s actions and claim what is deserved and undeserved. Leave that to judges.

But now I’m going to point out certain things—other things. Such as what I think to be Adler’s “new” name. At least to those in the Perseus Collective/Stitch.

Do I realize that “Cipher” may just be what this awesome skin is called? Yes. Will I rather ignore it and rant about the name for two ten minutes? Also yes.

On to the analysis!

ci·pher/ˈsīfər/: a secret or disguised way of writing; a code.

This first definition is what we can all gather of what the numbers represent—the code and simultaneously the key of brainwashing others in earpieces with just a certain order of number together.

Stitch and co. used said numbers on Adler, so why not call him Cipher? The Code? Funny, cause he killed Bell—the Decoder. Maybe Bell would’ve helped him out if he didn’t kill them.

Another hammer to the irony of between these two.

But no. The name gets better. Second definition!

ci·pher /ˈsīfər/: a person or thing of no importance, especially a person who does the bidding of others and seems to have no will of their own.

PAHAHAHAHAHA! *clears throat* Now, this, this is what I think Stitch calls some true vengeance. Not only did he get to torture the man who did the same to him before, but made Adler a shadow of who he was before. A husk. Nothing really there. “Whatever it takes” indeed but for the opposite side now—a puppet with numbers for strings. Stitch did a good job in naming Cipher—I mean Adler. We don’t even know how far Adler shall go now, will the CIA have to kill him or will they be able to recondition him when/if they capture him? Will he even be the same? Nope.

Why do I find that definition funny? Well, I think Adler had a multitude of reasons for naming Bell, Bell. Just like Stitch did with Adler. And not just the obvious reasons of him ringing the bell at them to condition them as he was torturing/brainwashing them(we love Pavlov!). Let’s get the first definition out the way.

bell /bel/: a hollow object, typically made of metal and having the shape of a deep inverted cup widening at the lip, that sounds a clear musical note when struck, typically by means of a clapper inside.

I wonder if anyone knows where I’m going with this or I’m starting to seem like a madwoman.

I’m going to ask you guys to focus on the word, “hollow” for me. Hollow, as in not filled. There’s something in the bell alright, but it doesn’t do enough to fill out the hole does it? Like Cipher is now made a husk. Bell was made hollow—only a little bit filled with the little memory they got back before they were killed(maybe they weren’t, let’s just go with it for now). Or perhaps just a bit filled with false memories of Vietnam, of camaraderie. I doubt Stitch did anything like that.

Also, Bell is just an instrument for someone else to play. Play the right tune, and the Russian agent will do anything for you. Right, Adler?

Cipher is the puppet, just doing what he’s told when they give the orders. No will or thought. Just how Stitch likes it.

I’m not done yet! Second definition!

bell /bel/: a. A stroke on a hollow metal instrument to mark the hour.

b. The time indicated by the striking of this instrument, divided into half hours.

Another play on words of Bell being struck(jabbed with needles) to do what needs to be done. But it also represents the limited time that Bell has. Bell needs to help to stop Perseus and quick, Adler will make them go faster if needed by putting the highest dosage as possible without killing them to accomplish it. Or maybe it’s also a representation that Bell does actually have limited time left—Park did say MK—Ultra will be hard on the body physically and mentally. Perhaps MK-Ultra was slowly killing us and Adler just decided to give us a mercy kill while he was at it as he “tied up our strings.”( @cryinginthebackseat does point this out in their Adler/Bell story, go check it out!)

Let’s focus on the instrument thing again though, but back to Cipher. The third definition!

ci·pher /ˈsīfər/ : a continuous sounding of an organ pipe, caused by a mechanical defect.

Oh man. Sounds like Adler is being played like an instrument too, continuously due to all the numbers and how the numbers can be everywhere if one is in the armed forces since they all use earpieces. Interesting shape too, a pipe. Long and thin and has two holes, a beginning and an end but which one is the top or the bottom? The beginning and the end? We don’t know how far Adler will go like this—as Cipher. It will eventually come to a point, where something squeezes within the pipe and manages to get out. Maybe. Or maybe Adler is just forever defected, like the definition suggests.

Not quite Adler anymore and just Cipher.

Just like Bell will always just be Bell. The other self practically gone.

It seems these two will always somehow reflect and affect one another, whether one is dead or not.

I swear I love Adler, so don’t mind some of my dark humor about him and this situation he’s in. It is pretty funny. At least to me. Stitch is funny. And petty.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

@salvija @smokeywhalee @quizzyisdone @efingart @samatedeansbroccoli @weirdoartist21 @tr1ppylady

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Six)

AN- Two chapters in one night... hope you like them! Soft Holmes Brothers scene at the end because, especially after the Eurus situation, the boys truly do love and care for each other! Not proof read either of these yet so apologies if there are mistakes!

Word Count- 4405

The younger brother's eyes had flicked over you both only momentarily, the tiniest flick up of his lips at the side of his mouth that disappeared so quickly it could have been misinterpreted for a twitch.

"Ever the delight, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke, standing straighter, his chin poking up a little higher. Sherlock glanced over his posture and rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake don't start that Mycroft. Had I blamed you for everything I can assure you I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, don't make it so obvious that you care about my opinion of you- it's embarrassing for both of us." And with that he spun around and headed up the stairs to 221B, leaving the door to the flat wide open and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Well that was.."

"Easy? I told you that you shouldn't worry." You nudged Mycroft into the building before ascending the stairs.

"Sherlock Holmes, possibly the only man in the world to forgive somebody for nearly killing him in a heartbeat, but held a 6 month grudge when I took the last custard cream from the biscuit jar when I was 12.." Mycroft muttered, making his way into the flat and sitting beside you on the two seater sofa. John walked into the room from the kitchen shortly after, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand as he said his hellos.

"Figured I'd stick the kettle on when you said you were on your way.. Greg shouldn't be long now." He gave a smile, taking his place in his own armchair. "How have.." He glanced at Mycroft. "How have you been? He won't admit it, but Sherlock's been worried about you." Mycroft took a breath, sending a polite smile in the direction of the army doctor.

"Doctor Watson, I can assure you that I am fine and have been perfectly well looked after." His eyes flickered to you for a moment and then back to the doctor. "I presume the pair of you have held up well as I haven't heard any reports of gunfire towards the wall for a fair bit of time." John grinned, casting his eyes over to the smiley face on the wall that had thankfully been left alone.

"Good. Yeah, uh, things here have been.. good.. too." A blank stare matched with a more thoughtful raise of lips. ".. Very good, actually.."

"Catch." Sherlock came stalking into the room, a damp flannel thrown in Mycroft's general direction which he caught expertly, not allowing a single moist patch to appear on his clothing.

"And this is.."

"A flannel? Christ Mycroft has trauma affected your brain cells that much?" Sherlock quipped, flopping down into his armchair and lazily holding his hand out for his tea that was a mere few inches away from his fingers. John placed the mug in his hand without thought or argument, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's slightly before moving away. A biscuit soon followed, John holding out the digestive while Sherlock partly opened his lips, and shoving the food between them. It was your turn to raise your brow now, but you didn't say anything, instead just nudging Mycroft with your knee to make sure he had seen it too. Of course he had. "It's for your face, Y/N's lip balm is all round your mouth and it's making me feel a bit sick." John's eyes widened as he looked between the pair of you. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, Mycroft simply sweeping away the slightly pink balm from underneath his lip and folding the wet cloth back up to place on the side. At least he hadn't picked up that you did it on purpose. Before anybody else could speak, the sound of someone bounding up the stairs filled the flat.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms Hudson let me in an- what did I miss?" Greg stood breathless at the door, satchel slung over his shoulder and a carrier bag in his other hand, staring at the apparent awkward glances shared between half the room. You stood from the sofa and headed over towards him, swiftly wrapping your arms around him and placing a small kiss on his cheek to say hello. He made his way into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa closest to Mycroft, casting another look at everybody when his question still hadn't been answered.

"Nothing of importance. Mycroft and Y/N have obviously decided to stop moping around each other like lovesick teenagers and finally admitted they've been infatuated with each other for years.. Now you're all caught up, can we get these papers sorted out so I can be more productive with my time?" Sherlock huffed.

"Nothing of importance? Don't be an arse Sherlock, that's excellent news." Greg clapped Mycroft on his shoulder and shot you a toothy grin. "Declaration in the park was it? Might be a good enough reason for me to not punch you for closing off St James'.." John's eyes widened more, if it were possible.

"You just.. closed off St James'? Can you even do-" The look Mycroft shot John made him cut his sentence short. "Right, yeah. British Government." He nodded, standing to go fetch Greg a coffee (yourself and Mycroft still held a shared judgement against Greg and his hatred for tea) and continuing to ask questions about your newly confirmed relationship. Mycroft sat awkwardly through the encounter- briefly talking about his emotions in front of you was one thing, a whole flat full of people was entirely different- so you gave his knee a quick squeeze and answered for him. "Who bit the bullet then?" John sat down. "Christ I know I mistook the pair of you being together when I met you, so surely these two have been waiting longer for you to get on with it." Greg grinned, nodding in agreement at John's assumption. Sherlock, on the other hand, stay lying on his chair completely unphased by the conversation going on around him.

"To cut a long story short, we were watching telly, I said Stephen Fry was a bit sexy, Mycroft informed me that he used to get told he had a slight resemblance to him, I realised I'd stuck my foot in it and had a ramble.. Went from there. Nothing too exciting, sorry." You left out the parts where the night before you had handled a broken Mycroft to the shower, how he had gripped onto you, how you held him as you slept. You also left out the way he had allowed himself to cry, how you held him while he wept- and, for that, Mycroft was incredibly thankful. Sherlock probably knew though, somehow, in his Sherlock way of knowing things- but he was either too kind to announce it to the room, or didn't care enough to waste his breath.. probably the latter.

"That's disappointing. You've mentioned about fancying Stephen Fry for years, this could have happened ages ago." John teased.

"Nothing compared to Hugh Laurie though. I'm pretty certain that I'm straight but I'd let him-"

"The papers!!" Sherlock's shout cut Greg's ramble off, making the silver haired man jump and grab his satchel, handing out the reports in a way that reminded you of a teacher with test papers.

"Right, yeah. Sorry. Basically the proper forms aren't ready for another week or so so these are just a few basic questions- nothing too in depth yet since I wanted to give you guys time to... yeah just basic for now." Mycroft chose to read through all the questions before answering them, whereas Sherlock hastily scribbled his response to each question as he went along- the smaller details in the Holmes brothers' differences are always interesting to stumble upon. As he held the page in his hands, you carefully leant over to have a glance at the questions, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder and your cheek resting just against your fingers- blissfully unaware at the 2 sets of eyes openly staring at your movements, and the one set that watched from the side. Greg was right, in a way, the questions definitely weren't as overbearing as they could be- but that doesn't mean it was an easy task. The questions targeted Mycroft a lot more than it did John and Sherlock, asking things about scenarios and situations that had occured before they were taken, how long it had been since they had any contact with Eurus prior to that evening/ what they discussed, and a few basic questions about any incentives Eurus may have had, and anything that aided her into her plan. Of course the papers weren't labelled with the sister's name, they were generically printed and typically handed out to anybody involved in any kind of criminal behaviours, but that didn't make it seem any less like these were questions that targeted Mycroft in particular. Mycroft took a deep breath and laid the papers back onto the coffee table in front of him, pulling a pen out of his pocket and beginning to write. In this moment you had noticed the small bounce of his left leg, a movement only ever shown by him in times where he had a particularly stressful day at work, or a troubling encounter with his brother- it was a movement that let you know his brain was running a mile a minute and he felt a little more overwhelmed that usual. Without making a point of it, you move your right hand to rest on his mid thigh, allowing your thumb to rub small shapes into his leg to show your support.

Turning your gaze to the rest of the room, you noticed Greg's eyes on you, a grin on his face that practically stretched to his ears. You rolled your eyes at him, using your other hand to flip him off and smiled.

It had taken just under two hours in total for the boys to finish completely (well, an hour and twenty minutes for the Holmes siblings, an extra forty minutes for John whose brain simply didn't work as fast as theirs to convey the information on the paper). The time had passed fairly quickly, with yourself and Greg not wanting to disturb the silence and instead just drinking your hot drinks and stealing a couple of biscuits from the tray. You gave Mycroft's leg one last squeeze before sitting back against the sofa, stretching a little after finally getting out of that position.

"Thanks again for getting this done today." Greg spoke, taking the papers in and putting them in a plastic folder. "I'd better be off anyway, get these filed in." He stood, heading for the front door and tripping over the carrier bag he had brought in with him earlier. "Shit, yeah I almost forgot." He picked up the bag and handed it to you. "Got your coat, and I may have accidentally read your mind if you had been talking about Stephen and Hugh.." You dug through the bag and grinned as you pulled out the box at the bottom.

"You, Gregory Lestrade, are a bloody legend. God I could kiss you!" Your boxset of 'A Bit of Fry and Laurie' rested in your hands and you showed it to Mycroft, beaming at him. His lips raised at your reaction, showing a small glint in his eye, as you explained how now the pair of you would have to binge watch it since Mycroft had never got round to watching them before. Greg barked out a laugh.

"I wouldn't. I don't fancy being hunted by Mycroft's secret services." Mycroft let out a small laugh himself. And with that, Greg was gone and left the flat to the four of you once more.

***

You hadn't stayed at the flat long before you all made your way to Angelo's restaurant, even managing to convince Mycroft to just take a cab rather than bothering his chauffeur for a 5 minute journey.

"Ahhh Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson!" Angelo greeted, pulling the aforementioned men into an awkward half embrace, half headlock. "Back again so soon? I shall get your usual table set up, grab some candles. Anything for you!" The pair of men awkwardly shifted out of the hold and Sherlock offered a smile.

"Not today Angelo, we need a table for four if that suits your capacities here?" Sherlock peered round at the tables inside.

"Of course, a double date, very lovely to see! Come, come!" He led the four of you inside, you grinning at Mycroft at Angelo's casual mentionings of Sherlock and John's usual 'romantic' set up. You were all ushered inside of a small booth and handed menus, the benches were small but tolerable, your thigh just brushing against Mycroft's, him offering a shy smile at the close contact. "You stay here, I'll get to work on those candles. Just for you, Mr Holmes." Angelo spoke again, clapping Sherlock on his shoulder and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.

"He's.. uh.. a bit enthusiastic sometimes." John spoke, his cheeks burning a little at the memories of previous encounters here.

"Quite. Seems a pleasurable fellow." Came Mycroft's response, glancing over the menu. It had taken no time at all for the restaurant owner to appear back with a handful of small tealight candles in glass jars, and a single flower resting in a vase to lay on the table, taking everybody's orders and leaving once again. Then as the food turned up, Sherlock began to prod at the chips on his plate with his knife.

"What are you doing? Eat your bloody food, Sherlock." John quipped, elbowing the man to his side.

"Don't want it.. whoever decided that dessert was only customary after a meal? I'd much rather wait." John gave Sherlock a look and he spoke again. "Don't give me that look, this was your idea. Who even suggests 'late lunch' as a valid meal time? It's impractical. I didn't eat breakfast because we didn't get out of bed until well past the respected breakfast hour.." 'We'.. you didn't press. "So I had a sandwich at lunch which has ruined my appetite for this. Then I'll be hungry again later, but later than dinner time because of how late this lunch is." Sherlock childishly squashed his chip with his thumb. "It's just ridiculous.. they keep adding new names for new meals at new hours, I feel like we're becoming Bobbits."

"Hobbits, brother mine." Mycroft corrected, the faintest smile playing at the side of his mouth as Sherlock's words sounded alarmingly like the ones he had told you only this morning- it was nice when they just got along.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said Bobbits."

"Boys!" John warned, and you broke out into a small fit of giggles.

"We really can't take you anywhere, can we?" You chimed in. Sherlock just huffed, stabbing a chip and eating it as John gave him a stern look. It was quite sweet, actually, watching them be all domestic. By the time you'd finished your meals, yours and John's plates were clear, Sherlock's leaving only a few chips and a mouthful of burger as he found, after starting to eat the food, that he really enjoyed it and wanted more. Mycroft, on the other hand, had managed to leave little over half of his spaghetti bolognese, making comments about the pasta being far too rubbery, or the sauce being too thin, crossing the cutlery over in the centre and making a dismissive comment about making something to eat when he got home- you all knew he wouldn't.

Sherlock had practically jumped for joy when Angelo came out with a tray of chocolate fudge cake, offering slices around the table which you all, bar Mycroft, accepted happily.

"I shan't spoil my appetite for when I get home." Was his small excuse, raising a hand to prevent Angelo from spouting his claims that he had the best cake in London and that he must have a piece, and instead asking for a coffee. Without words being spoken, John cast his eyes over to you and you offered a small sad smile. Nobody had told John of Mycroft's past, but he was a doctor and always knew when signs were displayed. You had taken an extra fork from Angelo just in case and took a small bite with your own fork, unable to let out the (embarrassingly erotic) moan that had escaped you.

"Christ he wasn't lying, this is incredible." You praised, taking another small piece on the second fork. "Mycroft please give it a try." You offered your hand out towards him, the sliver of cake resting on the tip of the fork's prongs. He looked over at it, his mind telling him to give it a go, at the very least because it had been offered by you, but the image of himself in the mirror this morning came back to mind. He declined the offer and you sighed. Mycroft truly did love cake, and any sweet things, so it was heartbreaking for you to see him turning it away because of the thoughts that ran through his brain. Sherlock had already cleared his plate by this point and stood up abruptly, hoisting his coat back over his shoulders.

"I'm going to go out for a cigarette, care to join me Mycroft?" He had asked, walking past the table. Mycroft creased his eyebrows into a frown.

"Sherlock, the pact? I haven't smoked for three years."

"Neither have I, let's go." Sherlock spoke back quickly, hoisting his brother from the booth and taking the pair of them outside. You raised a brow at John who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I stopped questioning the pair of them and their motives a long time ago." He reasoned, the pair of you turning your heads to see the two Holmes boys outside resting against the restaurant's window.

"I try my best to.. they just still fascinate me." You spoke back, your eyes lingering on Mycroft a little longer before turning back to the table.

"So.. you and Mycroft. Going well?" John asked, his mouth raising in that side smile he often displayed when he was teasing somebody. "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen Mycroft Holmes smile in a non-threatening way, and over half of those were from since you walked into the flat earlier. I think I can only just about count on two hands times where he's pulled an expression that isn't stoic and emotionless."

"Yeah.. I didn't expect it to happen, if I'm completely honest with you. We've spent so many years just avoiding the subject, but after.. Eurus.. I don't know. It flicked something in Myc that made him regret not doing something about it sooner." John nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "You also don't give him enough credit. Everybody just assumes he's this 'iceman' persona, but it's all a front.. I've watched him laugh so hard that tears fall from his eyes, he's one of those people who throws their heads back and lets out an absolute belter of an infectious laugh. I've seen him get angry at the telly if I came over and some stupid reality show came on the telly.. He shouted at Kim Kardashian once on there for some reason or another. I've stayed up all night with him after he had gruelling days at work, him offering to do the same for me if I had a bad case and couldn't sleep. And then, very recently, I watched him cry." You continued on. "Mycroft Holmes is one of the most emotional, caring people I've ever known, he is just incredibly particular at who gets to see it. You're a doctor, John. You know how experiences in life can shape one's emotional stability, how it alters their mental health. Had you grown up without very many people being kind to you, you'd be scared to let somebody else in too." You finished.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out in a bad way.. I just meant.. It's nice. Seeing Mycroft acting like that, it's.. nice." He apologised. You waved it off. You knew John didn't mean any harm.

"Mycroft and I are old news anyway.. What about you and Sherlock? When did that surface?" You asked, beaming at the deep red John's face had become as he choked on a sip of his drink. "Oh come on, don't act like that. We've all been waiting for this one to happen since you moved in."

"I.. I don't know what you-" Glaring at him, he stopped himself. "Yeah fine, okay. When we got back to the flat that night we went into the front room and Sherlock lost it. I'd never seen him anything like it before, he just.. he just sobbed into a heap on the floor." He explained, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his glass trying to distract him from his eyes watering. "I didn't know what else to do, so I scooped him up and put him in his bed. He begged me to stay with him and I did. Then he apologised to me, for dragging me in all of that mess, for almost getting me killed and he just wouldn't stop apologising.. So I stole the stereotypical movie move and kissed him. Just kind of went from there. I think that night made us realise that beating around the bush all these years wasn't helping either of us, and the thought that we could have lost the other only a few hours beforehand woke us up." He coughed, his voice breaking slightly.

"God look at us.. All the people in the world and we've landed with the Holmes'" You grabbed John's hand from across the table and laughed. "Makes you feel quite special though, doesn't it? That, equally, there were all the people in the world and they chose us?" John grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Could never tell them that though, their egos would go through the bloody roof."

***

"They're talking about us." Sherlock mused, breathing in the London air.

"It seems people do little else." Mycroft returned, casting his glance to you smiling with John at the table.

"She really does like you. I've spent years deducing everything about her to make sure she wasn't a secret Russian spy sent with the motive to kill you." The younger spoke playfully. "You could have eaten the cake."

"Hmm?"

"The cake. I know you wanted it, but you're going back to how you used to be. Now that you're together, you're nervous." Sherlock's voice was nonchalant, simple observations, which didn't ease his older brother at all. "It's pointless. She's entirely infatuated. I thought the childish doe eyes disappeared after being attracted to somebody for a few weeks, but she still looks at you like I look at a triple homicide."

"Resulting to similes now?"

"You need to stop that too. Dismissing it whenever somebody is trying to be... kind... to you. That's just annoying and not a good defence mechanism for insecurities, like a mask made of clingfilm, it's too obvious." Mycroft didn't speak in turn and Sherlock huffed. "She worries for you, she seeks for you to be comfortable in trialling situations, her eyes do that little light up thing every time you open your bloody mouth. Since standing here she's looked over 3 times and smiled to herself seeing you stand here with me without us arguing. I caught her 4 times on the way to the cab from the flat looking at your arse and your legs in that damned suit. You don't have to worry about anything with her- the way she looks at you is so lovesick it makes me queasy."

"And you know this how, Sherlock? Or is this another one of your cruel schemes to embarrass me?"

"Because, Mycroft, it's the same way you've looked at her for as long as I can remember you knowing her. Jesus, Mycroft, I haven't seen you smile this much since we were children.. before we did everything that led us to believe we were any better than anybody else, that we deserved more than sentiment. And it's the same way I.. the same way I look at him." Sherlock's eyes now locked onto John.

"Always did say there would be a happy announcement between the pair of you. Good to see I'm correct once again." Mycroft mused. He remained stoic, but his brother's words were whirring in his brain, leaving him in a state of shock at the curly haired man even displaying this form of kindness towards him.

"You told me once that caring isn't an advantage. But these last few days, no matter how short it has been, have already led me to believe that caring is perhaps the greatest advantage of them all. And I strongly believe you feel the same way, no matter what bull you make up to argue against it." The pair of them watched through the window once more, the image of you and John laughing at whatever joke had been shared between you. "We both have wasted many years fighting against this, and I don't want you to screw yours up. Y/N will remain by your side and feel the same way towards you, whether you wear a bin bag, lose your job, put on weight- she's in it for the long haul. She's spent so many years pining after you that she deserves the best from you and to be happy. And you, brother mine, have been through enough with not good people; you deserve the happiness too." Sherlock trailed the last sentence. It's incredibly rare for them to show it, but Sherlock and Mycroft would always have a particularly close bond, they've been through too much together not to- and so times like this were precious to them. Mycroft simply let out a small cough, reaching his arm over to rest on his younger brother's shoulder to give it a quick squeeze, before patting it twice and letting his arm rest back by his side.

"Sentiment appears to be dwelling well on you." Mycroft spoke, heading back to the door of the restaurant to head inside, holding it open for his brother.

"As it is on you, brother. As it is on you."

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yunhostinyuyu · 3 years

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pairing: bad boy!san x fem reader

genre: college au, suggestive, almost smut

wc: 3.1k

synopsis: Y/N swore herself to never get involved with people like Choi San: the typical fuckboy. She hated him (or she at least made herself believe she did) but thats the exact reason that drew him towards her...

warnings: teasing, making out, mentions of sex, alcohol and drugs

—

„look at who we have here? Y/N doing her dirty laundry, never thought I’d witness that.“

you were hunched on your floor with baskets of freshly washed clothes all around the floor. Whipping your head to the door of your dorm‘s bathroom, and you immediately regret it. The cheeky comment came from no other than Choi San - Resident fuck boy and unfortunately, your roommates best friend. He is the type of guy your parents would warn you from. The type to play with a girl until he’s satisfied and dips right after.

The type of you you would never want to get involved with in any sort of way.

But, since he hangs around your dorm frequently and you share a few classes and lectures, that was not easy. Crashing on the couch you bought with your roommate bought together when you moved in, more often than you’d like. Throwing certain looks at you when you entered the lecture halls or passed by him when he was chatting and smoking with his friends off campus. Never letting you breathe for a single moment, he enjoyed teasing you. Needless to say you hated his guts for many things, and he just added more reasons to your imaginary list with every passing day you saw him around campus.

Meanwhile, you’re lifestyle was the complete opposite of his, being the well mannered and friendly classmate, the typical nice girl everyone thought you were - and what your parents wanted you to be. Of course, you were not always like that, especially around your friends. With them you could act the way you truly are, and that was anything but the front you put on most of the time. But San made you drop any sort of friendliness to curse at him every chance you got. And right now was no different:

“Fuck off Choi. Wooyoung isn’t here, so leave.” you spat while not paying anymore attention to him, instead going back to the task at hand.

Taking a few steps towards you, inspecting the room as if he had seen it for the first time, and paying close attention of you putting clothes out of the washing machine. His eyes paying close attention to your hands that move in fluid motions.

“I know, but he’ll be here any second.” Trailing off, and you decided to not even answer him - he isn’t worth your time or nerves right now, after all he just wanted to get under your skin and rile you up. And the less you talk, the better.

He hums to himself, as he bends down to pick up one black, lacy pair of undergarments, inspecting them closely. His thumbs grazing over the neat material, fingertips holding them up in the air. You don’t realize he took something from the basket to your left until he comments on them.

“Are these new? Must be, huh... your little ass would look sooo cute in them. Are you gonna wear them for me one day, Y/N?” his low voice echoed through the tiled room, and you are fast to react: snatching the pair of panties back, out of his grip and throwing it back into the basket. Scoffing, showing your stride at him without any hesitation. “In your dreams. Now, leave me alone. I’m not gonna repeat myself, Choi.” Your features twist as you grow more and more annoyed with him.

“Oh don’t worry,” he backed up a few steps, but the cocky grin stayed on his lips, “with that attitude I’ll most certainly dream of it.”

You heard the door twist, which could only mean that Wooyoung was finally here to save you from any further suggestive comments. Considering you couldn’t stand anything more that was about to leave his mouth.

Admittedly, San has his reputation for a reason: him being one of the most handsome guys you have ever laid your eyes on. And if he wasn’t such an asshole, there would be a possibility you’d be interested in him. And yes, if the stigma that your parents had embroidered into your brain, that ‘sex is bad’ and to stay ‘pure’ until you’re married. If you could push that out of your mind for good, you would be maybe like San. Maybe, you’d even be with him... but god forbid he would ever find out you thought of him like that, especially when you had one of your moments, late at night. If he would know about your honest thoughts, he would use it to his advantage. He wouldn’t give in until he got his way with you - in his very own way.

“San-ah! Come on, we gotta go!” your roommate screams and prompts the visitor to get going quick.

“Too bad, guess I’ll see you around, Y/N. Maybe one day my dreams will become reality nonetheless.” He turns on his heels and dashes towards his friend. The repeating sound of the lock falling into place made you sigh out loudly, pressing your forehead against the cold material of the washing machine you’re still sitting in front of.

Incidents like these are not new and you have already gotten used to San having zero shame when it came to anything even remotely personal or sexual. He knew how he comes across, which only scores him more and more girls to take home and to make his body count grow rapidly. But until now, it hasn’t worked with you, and he’s trying time and time again to wrap you around his finger. Without success.

And you planned to keep it this way.

–

“I hate you for dragging me here.” you groaned after you kept chewing on the rim of your red cup. The girl on your right ignored your comment and kept scanning the crowd.

It was unbelievable, but yes: you were stuck on a frat party... again. Your cousin Mijung needed to meet a guy she was planning on hooking up with, and you lost a bet, so you had to go with her. In secret, she was still scared to go by herself and you wanted to help her - regardless of that you hated parties like this. Obviously, you hoped that she wouldn’t leave your side too soon, but at the same time it only meant you could get home earlier, which was a win in your books.

„Sure you do. But I don’t care right now, because you owe it to me. You could let loose for once and also get some good di-“

„No, I’m not, and you know I can’t!“ you cut Mijung off and she lifts her hands up in defeat.

She just scoffs while scanning the place for faces she might recognize. “Yes, yes I know. God forbid your parents ever find out your at a party like this, or even have sex. But they have nothing to worry about.” Thinking to yourself that they really do not need to worry, but deep inside you wanted to do all these things that you got restricted from. Forcefully restricted yourself from, and the longer you thought about it, you wanted to go against it. Date and sleep with guys as you please, live a little. But still, something unknown was holding you back from it.

“You know it’s not just that but also-“ you started explaining yourself for the nth time in your life, but now she cut you off and hopped off her barstool. The man she was waiting for finally appeared and she left with him after they exchanged a quick peck as a greeting. Being uncomfortable with the scene, you fumbled with your phone in order not to look awkward or out of place - but that’s exactly what you were. And on top of that, you were alone.

You held your phone tightly in your grip, watching over the intense crowd, people on people and the sight made you nauseous, especially when you locked eyes with someone that was kissing or grinding on each other. You wanted to be able to do those sorts of things, but at the same time it scared you, almost disgusted you. But the sting of alcohol in your cup that you barely drank made everything worse. The situation altogether was just too much for you.

“Now look at that, am I high or is the notorious Y/N at our place?”

You cursed to yourself when you recognized his voice.

“Fuck off, Choi.” was the first and only thing that you could think of while still scrolling mindlessly through your apps to appear busy.

He slides into the seat Mijung left empty just a few minutes ago. “Now, you know that doesn’t affect me. I just wanna talk a bit. I’m not feeling getting hammered tonight if I’m being honest.” He started a conversation and you forced yourself to look at him. He looked too good to be true with his messy hair and black shirt and jeans. But you ignored his visuals in order to give him a strict look.

“And what do you wanna talk about? We never talk. And I’m not gonna be here for much longer anyways.” You explained and San rose and eyebrow at your comment. “Oh? So we’re do you plan on going?”

You didn’t know, since Mijung was left so early, you haven’t given it any thought other than going back home, even if it was too early to leave, but yet dark outside.

“Home. To my dorm. I hate places like this.” You looked away, and he noticed your discomfort. The atmosphere was really awkward between the two of you. As a result you turned slightly away from him.

He sighs, “You know, we can go somewhere quiet.” You adamantly shake your head at his suggestion, “no, I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re aware of your reputation and so am I. I’m not doing that.” you spat disheartinly, assuming it was another one of his attempts to get into your pants. But surprisingly, it wasn’t.

“No, you listen now,” he took hold of your arm and twisted you back to face him. “You’re uncomfortable here, I can see that. I’m taking you to my room. And not to get with you, but because I promised Wooyoung to take him home when he’s completely wasted tonight. I can take you home then alongside him.” he says and his brows furred a little.

Wooyoung was someone you trusted, so if he trusted San to take him home when he’s completely shitfaced, then maybe you could also trust him? All alarms went off in your head telling you he was anything but trustworthy. But as you looked into his eyes, there was something genuine about his offer. But after a few moments of thinking, you gave him the benefit of the doubt: you complied and nodded, “okay, but just because Woo trusts you.” But that was enough for him.

He got up and urged you to come after him, walking up the stairs until the loud noises from the other people steadily died down. After the two of you entered his room, your nervousness und sense of awkwardness disappeared again. Even if it was San, you were used to him, to his presence. And it was better then to be lost and alone downstairs.

“Make yourself feel at home.” He introduces you when he plops down at his bed, while you took a closer look around his personal space. There were plenty of books on his shelf, a flag hung up on the wall, and the desk was messy in books and other stuff he used frequently. To be honest, you imagined his room to be more messy, but it was just a kind of creative chaos.

The silence in his room was thick. He watched your movements closely for a while, but you tried to give him not much attention, even if you felt his stares linger on you. Minutes passed until he started to speak up again:

“Do you mind if I ask you something? I’m kinda curious, y’know.”

You turned around and look into his eyes, that are loosely hidden behind his dark strains of hair over his forehead. Arms pushed behind him on the bed to support his upper body, leaning back. You walk back a little until you sit down in a giant bean bag that was in the center of the small room. While you adjust yourself you look over to him once again, signaling him to continue talking. He sits up a little, leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs.

“You know, any other girl would beg me to fuck them if they were in your spot. Why are you so determined to do anything but that?”

Taken aback, you knew San was bold, but you didn’t expect him to go there, especially not at this time, when he offered a hide out for you so considerably. Shrugging your shoulders you dip your chip to your chest and try to figure out a way to answer his question.

“I’m, uhm, I’m... it’s just not my thing.” You stutter out, and you are pretty sure you have an aura of uncertainty surrounding you. Of course, San picks up on it:

“Wait, not your thing? What kinda guy did you sleep with that make you think that way about sex? Or girl?” His facial expressions clearly confused, not yet understanding your reasoning.

You stayed silent. Because you couldn’t muster to say the truth: you haven’t. Yes, you were a still a virgin, in college. Nobody knew other than Mijung, not even any of your closest friends. And the fact that San was this close to discovering your secret, or probably already did, made you anxious.

“Mmh, I get it now. You never got laid. Not even once in your life. Am I Right?” He assumed and hit the nail right on the head. You wanted to cuss him out, hit and slap him, but that would only prove him right. The blush that crept on your face was answer enough for him. He stood up from his place on the bed to sit back down next to you on the floor. You couldn’t look at him, because of the pure humiliation he’s putting you through, trying to get swallowed by the fuzzy material of your seat.

“So that’s the reason you’re acting like this most of the time: you have never gotten any action together than with yourself. How am I only just now figuring this out?” He chuckles, having you in a spot were you couldn’t get out as easy as you’d like. Still not opting to speak, gnawing at the inside of your cheek instead, but you don’t need to anyway, because he continues to piece the evidence together.

“Wooyoung once mentioned you had strict parents, you know. Judging by how you act around your friends, I didn’t think you’d care about what they thought, no? You’re well past the age of being ‘daddy’s good girl’. And also by the way you throw shallow insults at me every time we are in the same room, I can tell you that you’re anything but the nice girl your parents want you to be. That’s not the real you. But Y/N, you know it’s your life? You can do whatever you want? If you want to take drugs, take them. If you want to smoke, smoke. If you want to get dicked down, then for fucks sake get some! You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

Stunned by his rant, you scanned his face for any signs of emotions, but it was really hard to tell what was going on in his head. He sighs and dips his chin to the side, before finding your eyes again, taking your hand into his rough ones. The physical touch had a certain effect on you, and you wanted to be closer to him. Your future self your probably slap yourself in the face for this, but right now you got lost in his dark eyes and deep stare. Feeling vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze, not knowing what to do or say. Taking a quick breath, you uttered under your breath “where is this going, San?” Against all expectations, he smiles.

“Anything that happens here, between you and I, nobody else is gonna know about it. Not a single soul.” His hand slowly start to wander up your arm, touching the skin of your neck and threads his fingers through the strains of hair that rest on your shoulder. You don’t feel anything other than the alarms in the back of your mind slowly subside and be replaced by other thoughts.

“Just tell me no and I’ll stop.” His voice comes out raspy and seductive, and it sends waves of arousal down your core, even if the only physical contact you two had was from his wandering hands. The thought excited you, and he had a point: you could do whatever you wanted, and up until now, the consequences would keep you from giving into him. But there are no worries of the sort holding you back anymore, and if it was only for tonight, so be it. He was to strong, his effect was too strong.

His eyes never leave yours, until you give him an answer.

“Yes, okay. Yes I want it. I want you to show me what I’m missing out on.” You brace yourself for whats coming next, but nothing could prepare you for what he had in mind. He grabs your hips to lift you up, and in shock your arms fly to grab his shoulders. He settles you down in his lap, hands immediately find your ass and grips the flesh through your jeans. You both lean forward, hot breath mixing and hitting your faces. That was until San looses his patience just a few seconds later and presses his lips onto yours. And it wasn’t like anything you have ever felt before.

The two of you move in sync for what feels like ages, his tongue entering your mouth and taking the lead as he continues to grip your waist and butt to draw a few whimpers out of you. Your fingers found their place in his nape and gripped his hair as you busied your mouth with his. He breaks the kiss and moves down towards your neck and starts to suck on your skin, making marks blossom in shades of red and purple.

“If you want this to be a secret, you should make sure to cover up your marks later, because I’m not letting you go without adding my mark to your beautiful, beautiful body.”

Eyes blown out in lust, and you died in anticipation. He sucked more and more hickeys until he was satisfied with the finished product. He lifted his head up again and you wanted to kiss him again.

But then, you heard something hit the door from the outside, followed by a thud and a load groan. “San-ah! Let me in, I need to -“

—

#wow idk why either just go with it #ateez #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez writing #ateez x reader #ateez san #choi san #ateez smut #ateez suggestive #san x reader #san x you #san fluff #san smut

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softcallofdutyimagines · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Can we have an couple of HCs of the safehouse bois (COD: Cold War) loving their curvy fem s/o? (and maybe trying to make her feel happy in her body if she's insecure of feels weird?)

Thankie and sorry for the oddly specific request 😅

Djsjsjsj ok ik you have like two other requests, and they'll be coming!!! But this struck such a mood I had to skip the line lol.

Honestly, like the way I tried to treat myself to some ✨ s p i c e y ✨ lingerie that just arrived and it fits literally everywhere else except that, ofc the cup size is an absolute JOKE, i-

Anyway, I digress lmao. Thank you for the request(s) btw, and enjoy!!!

---

Adler

Personally, he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to have a particularly strong preference for any one "type"

But in the era where the super tall, super slim, super models reign supreme, he understands that sometimes it's hard to feel pretty if you're built like anything else

After all, I don't think any of the guys know how it feels to see yourself as "unattractive" more then he does

I mean, if he'd been cut a little deeper or on a different angle, he could've needed whole skin grafts, or even physical therapy for his jaw

And who wants a guy as messed up and broken down as that, right?

But you... Oh, you're gorgeous

Adler is very soft and gentle when it comes to his appreciation for you and your body

While he does know how to express himself, he's not really the grand gesture type, like some of the others are

He is the biggest self love hypocrite, always quick to get down on himself and his facial scars, but absolutely cannot STAND to see you upset over you body

You chide him for this now and then, but he usually jokes it away

I know I said Adler doesn't really have a type, but don't think for a second that he'd pass up on a great thing when he gets it

I don't want to say "handsy" but he definitely likes to just... Touch you, when you're alone together

Not even necissarily in a sexual way, he just likes to appreciate the shape of you, you know?

Very into hugs from behind, or really at any angle, as long as he gets to feel his arms around your waist

Also, you can catch him absent mindedly caressing your hips with his knuckles or a lone finger whenever he's standing around with you

Hudson

Oh y'all ain't ready for this one lmao

I am 99% certain that behind that steely facade, is a man who loves nothing more then a THICC juicy Queen™

I'm so serious, like the curvier the better for this dirty dog lmao

The best part is, that the fun isn't in that he just goes feral when you two are alone (although he certainly could, in a rare mood)

He's actually really shy about it, and he doesn't want you to feel like that's the only reason he loves you

And while you do appreciate the respect he has for you, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like to tease him

A favorite of yours is to walk into his home office half or fully naked and watch him, very obviously, struggle to stay focused on his paper work

He knows he's weak, but damn it he can never last long before giving in and handing over whatever kind of attention you're seeking

You know, whatever that may be 😏

When you're feeling insecure however, he can sense it immediately and always seeks to get to the bottom of whatever is causing you to feel that way

Although he's rather direct, he's tactful and tries his best to know the right thing to say

He's a great listener, and will never hesitate to tell you how beautiful and special you are to him

Lazar

Lmao, I don't think there is any universe in which Lazar would not be in full support of being with a curvy woman

Especially as a big guy himself, you two are an absolute power couple

He is both literally and metaphorically your biggest hype man when it comes to your appearance

Also, 10/10 likes to give you gifts of clothes and the like that he thinks you might appreciate/look pretty darn good in

Honestly, it is rare to feel down about your body when in a relationship with him, but everyone gets insecure sometimes, and he gets that

Thankfully, he's a master comforter, and is always at the ready to give you the treatment you need to feel better

Typically you can expect snacks and cuddles if you're just feeling sad, and stuff like a massage or body kisses and so forth if you need a reminder that you're literally the most gorgeous woman on earth

Oh, and he's very protective of you and defensive of your looks

I kind of hate to use this terminology lmao, but Lazar is the Alpha™ everywhere he goes, and he has no problem reminding other guys of it

So if he sees someome else checking you out, he'll be sure to block their view and do something like make direct eye contact until they leave you be

Have you ever had a 6'4, powerlifter looking, tank of a man sneer directly at you before?

Not a good feeling, I assure you

Needless to say, you don't have to put up with much, if any harassment or other stupidity on Lazar's watch

Mason

Alex strikes me as the type who doesn't buy into the paper thin beauty standard that society like to push

Obviously that's great if you're just naturally thin and all! But mostly he's totally down for the curvy, "built like a brick house" type of woman

He appreciates the way that you can keep up with him when he has to do physical things around or outside the house

Alaska is a rather unforgiving place after all, so he finds great comfort in the support and companionship you have to offer him

You're like his little amazonian goddess, and he's always in awe of not only how unbelievably beautiful you are, but also how hardy and tough you can be

In fact, you and your body are so normalized and loved by him in his mind that it genuinely catches him off guard when you say you're feeling insecure about it

But in times like that, he loves to tell you how beautiful your body is, not just for the way it looks but for the things it can do

You're built so strong and tough, but also soft and feminine... he can't even think about being with anyone else

He's very into body worship, like Lazar is, but Alex is a lot more gentle and is extremely conscious of making sure you're alright as he goes along kissing and caressing

If he could only show you how beautiful you are to him, he would in a heartbeat, but for now he just hopes his words and actions are enough

Sims

Oh, you already know Sims loves a thicc, curvy snack of a woman lmao

Skinny guys always love the curvy ladies

He doesn't really go feral when you two are alone, but he's not exactly shy about having this hands all over you either

For sure he always greets you with a compliment, whether it be a look, a whistle, or words... he's prepared

Also, he's very vocal in having you understand that there is not a single outfit you look "bad" or "unflattering" in, even if it's just sweats and a t-shirt

In fact, he is so confident in you, that he loves to show you off when he can and if you're comfortable

Always introduces you as "his girl" and is never afraid to point out your new outfit, hair-do, nails, ect

I feel that Lawrence would be another case where it's quite rare indeed to feel insecure about your body, and so when such times do arise he takes it seriously

He's basically a gentler, more emotional version of Hudson

By that I mean, he's the type to want to talk it out (if you're up to it) and ask what's wrong or if someone said something to you

You'll always have a reliable listener and food advice giver in him, and somehow that seems to always do the trick

Woods

Honestly, Woods is Hudson part 2, except that he has all the vocalized pride of loving curvy women as Sims and Lazar

He's still careful to make sure he doesn't come off as a creep or something, mind you, but complimenting and loving on your body just comes naturally to him

Extremely handsy in private, and you've definitely swatted his hands away from your hips, waist, back, ect more then once

In public, I wouldn't exactly say "handsy" but he's determined to make sure everyone knows you're with him

He usually escorts you places with a hand gently placed either just above your tailbone or protectively wrapped around your waist

As independent as you may be, you must admit, it's nice to feel like a princess everywhere you go, escorted around by your knight in shining flannel

He'll even offer you his arm if he's feeling particularly gentlemanly, because yes, miracles can happen

Unfortunately, Frank is probably the worst wordsmith of all the gang, and is next to clueless on what to say if you're feeling down and insecure

At least to his credit he'll usually start off by admitting to that fact before giving it a try

"Well, you know I'm shit with words, but... I hope you also know that I love you the way you are"

Thankfully what he lacks in words, he makes up for in physical affection

Even if you're really only comfortable with some cuddling, he's gonna cuddle you so good!!! He's determined and will stop at nothing

After all, whatever it takes to make you feel every bit as amazing as he knows you are

#black ops cold war #call of duty #russell adler x reader #frank woods x reader #lawrence sims x reader #eleazar azoulay x reader #alex mason x reader #jason hudson x reader #russell adler #frank woods #jason hudson #eleazar azoulay #alex mason #lawrence sims #curvy!reader #cod headcannons

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

[Chapter III: Hyunjin & Felix- Certified FBI Agents (or b*tches)]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, phone sex, masterbation (m&f) + guided masterbation, use of adult toys

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

Filthy. You felt absolutely filthy.

You met a cute guy through text- as in an unknown dude you merely glanced at a random party. You sent certain texts to the cute guy- as in, a stranger you just met last night. You masterbated to the cute guy- as in, a man you barely even knew. Worse of all, you’re still thinking about said cute guy and how he affected you in a way you’ve never felt before.

But you loved it.

The next morning, you walked through the halls with a tight chest. Your heart beat rapidly at the thought of seeing your red beanie cutie, or rather, Jisung, in person. ‘Why the hell am I so nervous?’ You gripped your camera bag closer to your form as you made your way to your chemistry class.

“Y/n!” You heard deep voice say. You looked up to see Felix and Hyunjin waving to you. As you were about to greet the two, another person called out your name.

“Y/n!!” It was from a voice you’ve never heard before. You turned around to see Jisung running up to you with a cute smile, his red headphones dangling around his neck as he ran. Your eyes widened. You were about to greet him when he ambushed you with the biggest hug ever. “Good morning, Y/n! It’s so nice seeing you in person!”

‘How warm...’ you thought as you closed your eyes and returned his hug. You had to refrain yourself from whining out a complain when he let go of you. “How are you? Did you sleep well last night?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

Your mouth was agape. You stared into his pure, star-y eyes, speechless. ‘No way is this the same dude I was sending dirty texts to’. He looked at you expectantly, head tilted, waiting for your response. ‘Fuck. He’s so damn cute!’ “O-oh,” you stammered. “Yeah! I did sleep...good...last night…”

“Awesome! Me too! I really had fun talking with you,” he smiled, his words seemingly innocent. You could only blush. Oh if anyone knew the truth behind his words. “Speaking of talking, let’s hang out later so we can get to know each other a little more!”

“R-really? I mean- great! Yeah, let’s hangout later!” you nervously said.

“Yes! I’ll see you later, Y/n!” Jisung gave you another hug before leaving, waving to you as he walked further away from you. You weakly smiled as you waved back. ‘Why am I so awkward?’ Sighing, you turned around to see Felix and Hyunjin gaping at you. ‘Oh, right. Forgot about them’.

“Morning guys,” you stiffly greeted.

“Uh-good morning to you too, Y/n?” Felix replied. “So...How did the party go?”

You glanced at Hyunjin for a brief moment. “Oh, You know. Same old same old. Loud music. Lots of alcohol. People getting drunk, making out, fucking. Kinda what you expect in a typical college party in those cheesy tv shows.”

“Okay, cut the crap, Y/n,” Hyunjin intervened. “Since when did you and Jisung get close? Did something happen between you two?”

Felix nodded. “Yeah, I have never seen you two interact before today. Something happened during the party that you’re not telling us!”

“What’s this? An interrogation?” you said accusingly, “Nothing happened! We just happened to meet yesterday and got each other’s phone numbers. That’s all!”

“Liar,” Hyunjin scoffed. “I know Jisung. He wouldn’t be so buddy-buddy with someone he just met in less than 24 hours- especially to that extent. Something happened! I know it!”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You wouldn’t remember cause you were dead drunk last night.”

“Seriously, man?!” Felix laughed. “Is that why you were complaining about having a headache?”

“Y/n!” Hyunjin whined. “Look what you did!”

“Not my fault! You kept pestering me!”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s stop now,” your freckled friend pushed you two apart. “We’re gonna be late!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of class...and the continuation of Felix and Hyunjin’s interrogation.

“Tell us.”

“Yeah, tell us.”

“Time to tell us~.”

“Come clean, Y/n~.”

“The truth shall set you free~.”

“Are you guys fucking serious?” you said exasperatedly. The boys corned you against the wall like FBI agents. Or more like those cliché high school bullies. Either way, it was suffocating. “I told you! Nothing noteworthy happened! We met, then talked, then texted, and that’s it! End of story!”

“Hm…” Hyunjin looked at you suspiciously. “I smell cap.”

“Something else happened. We can feel it,” Felix said with a sly grin.

“God! You’re both so annoying!”

The boys laughed. “We wouldn’t be so annoying if you just told us!” Hyunjin defended, making you groan.

“Geez…” you muttered as you rubbed your temples.

“Hey! No bullying in the halls!” You all turned to see Minho walking towards you three with an annoying grin.

Felix scoffed before chuckling. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Wait, Minho!” Hyunjin gasped. “You were sober last night. What happened between Y/n and Jisung?”

“They fucked.”

The younger boys gasped in shock, turning to you in disbelief. Meanwhile, you scowled at Minho’s terrible attempt at a joke. You sighed, “First of all: NO, we didn’t. Second of all, don’t lie to them like that, you asshole.” Minho bursted out in laughter while the other two stared in confusion.

“So...y’all didn’t fuck?” Felix asked.

“NO!”

“Then what happened?!”

“Why do guys wanna know so bad?” Minho asked.

Hyunjin pouted. “Because! It’s just a little weird how those two talked as if they’ve known each other their whole lives.”

“What? What did they do?”

“We just witnessed Jisung coming out of nowhere and hugging Y/n as if they were long lost lovers,” Felix explained.

“Oh?” Minho raised a brow, smirking. “What did you two do to make him act like that?”

“Not you too!” you cried. “Why are you all so hung up?!”

“Because this is Han Jisung we’re talking about! I told you, he’s a shy boy, so it’s just surprising to see him warm up to you so fast!”

“Right?!” Hyunjin said. “It took him a while to warm up to us! That’s why we wanna know.”

You sighed in irritation for the nth time. The once playful interaction was now getting on your nerves. “Alright, no more bullying Y/n, losers. Only I can,” Minho said, patting your back. “I was just joking with you all. Honestly, Jisung thought Y/n was cute so I did little bit of an exchange and they hit it off, I guess.”

Hyunjin muttered, “Still doesn’t explain why he was so clingy with Y/n but whatever.”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t know either. Connection or something.”

“Hmm...Fine,” Hyunjin and Felix said. You let out a breath of relief. Finally…The school bell rang again, making Felix and Hyunjin panic.

“Shit. Let’s go, Hyunjin!” Felix hissed, pulling the taller male with him. Once they left your field of sight, you turned to Minho with a tired expression.

“My Lord, I offer you my sincerest thanks.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I know I’m the best. You’re welcome,” he said smugly. “Now that they’re gone...Tell me all the dirty shit you guys sent.”

You stared blankly at him. “What?”

“Come on, you don’t think I know? I’ve been friends with you and Jisung long enough to know where this would go. Now spill.”

Your face grew hot as Minho continued to stare you down with a smirk. “Do I have to?”

“Yes! I hooked you two up, so I need to know the details! Not too graphic though.”

You gave him a pouty look. “No.”

“Boo…” Minho chortled. “You’re lame.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey. Be nice. I’m the reason you now have a fuck buddy.”

“Again. Fuck off, you little-” You stopped yourself when you saw a familiar figure with red headphones infront of you. “Jisung!” Minho whipped his head around to see Jisung walking toward the two of you. Your friend offered you a knowing smile. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, prompting you to subtly shove him.

“Oh, hi Y/n! Hi Minho!” Jisung smiled, nodding his head.

Minho waved. “Hey, Ji.”

“What’re you doing? Don’t you have a class?” you asked Jisung.

“Eh...My lit teacher is out so we have a free period today. What about you guys?”

“Same here,” Minho said. “Trig teacher out, Minho out.”

The two of you giggled at Minho’s choice of words. “How about you, Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“I, uh, have a free class.”

“Oh, really?” the blonde haired boy exclaimed, his eyes widened excitedly.

“My literature teacher is out too, so yeah. Boom, I’m free.”

“Wait…” Minho said. “Who’s English class are you guys in?”

You and Jisung answered at the same time. “Mrs. Jung.” Minho stared at the both of you expectantly, waiting for the realization to kick in. And eventually, it did.

“Hold on, you have Mrs. Jung too?!” You both yelled.

Minho chuckled. “Finally. How did you two not notice each other before?”

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s a lecture hall filled with 30 plus people? Of course we wouldn’t have known.”

“Pff, still surprising though.”

Jisung gasped then faced you. “Oh, Y/n! Since we both have a free class, why don’t we hang out now?” he asked, his fingers twiddling with the drawstrings of his white hoodie.

“Oh right. Yeah, we could,” you said. “Wanna come along, Min?”

The older male waved you off. “Pass. Don’t wanna be there to see you two fuck.”

“Minho!”

“Dude!”

You and Jisung felt embarrassment run throughout your bodies, unappreciative of Minho’s joke. He, however, enjoyed the response he got from you both. “Don’t deny it! We’re all adults still in school. We gotta relieve the stress somehow.”

“Stop!”

“Minho!”

Minho bellowed out with laughter, beginning to walk away. “I’m just gonna go to the library. See ya, lovebirds! Remember, no sex in public areas! We’re still at school!”

“Hyung, you fucker!” Jisung called out as you sigh. As Minho walked further away, throwing you both a sly smirk as he did, Jisung started pulling you to face him. “Uhm. Sorry about him, Y/n,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You chuckled, “Nah, it’s fine. I know what he’s like too.”

“So…Since we’re both free for the period. Shall we?” he bowed like a sophisticated nobleman offering to dance with a maiden at a ball. You giggled, curtsying to play along.

“We shall, kind sir.”

Jisung smiled, standing up straight to meet your eyes. He started to walk again. “Awesome! I mean- excellent. I know a wonderfully secluded place where we may chat amongst ourselves.”

“‘Chat’?” you asked cheekily. “Are you sure that’s not code for something?”

Jisung’s face glowed red. “No!” he panicked. “No no no. I swear I didn’t mean anything by that! I just genuinely wanted to talk to you. No sexual innuendos whatsoever!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his shyness. “Relax. I was just messing with you, Jisung.”

“Oh,” he sighed in relief. You laughed even more when you saw his shoulders slump.

“Sorry, but you were just so cute, I couldn’t help it.” Before any of you could dwell on your words and grow flustered, you dragged him through the hallways. “Let’s go? I’m dying to see this ‘wonderfully secluded’ place you’re talking about.”

Jisung led you outside of the building, towards the garden near the back of the campus. “Oh wow,” you breathed, taking in the serenity of the area. “I didn’t even know we had a garden here.” You reached your hand out to run your fingers against the sea of Hydrangeas.

“Right?” he chuckled as he led you down the concrete path. “I didn’t even know about it either until the beginning of the school year.”

“How’d you find it?”

“I-uh-found out about it when I was hiding from Changbin.”

“Changbin?” you looked at him in surprise. “The sweet, muscle-y dude that wore all black at the party?”

“Pff, ‘sweet’ but yeah. Him. I’d...rather not talk about what I did to make him hunt me down.” Jisung shivered as if he had relived a horror movie. You snorted at his reaction, finding it funny. “Yeah...but ever since I found the place, I come here when I feel overwhelmed with life or need inspiration. So, a lot,” he snickered.

The two of you walked further into the garden until you reached an empty patch of grass. “And...here we are!” Before he let you sit, he took off the mismatched flannel he was wearing over his hoodie and laid it on the ground. “After you,” he gestured to it. You laughed as you sat down, finding the act sweet.

“Thank you!”

The two of you spent the last 80 minutes getting to know each other and it felt like it was the fastest 80 minutes spent. You learned about each other’s passions, dreams, fears, everything. Nothing sexual mentioned at all, not even the sinful deeds you’ve both committed the night before.

“Okay okay. Favorite color?” you joked, laughing when Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Really? Are you running out of questions?” he playfully sneered at you.

“Just answer!”

“Red. What’s your favorite subject?”

“Photography, duh. I am an aspiring photographer,” you lightly shoved him with your shoulder which made him chuckle. “Oh! Speaking of, can I take a few pictures of the garden? It’s pretty and I might need them someday.”

“Go ahead.”

You snapped some pictures of the different areas of the garden, taking extra attention to the pink Azaleas and other flowers in the vicinity. Wanting to ask Jisung a question, you turned around to find him already staring at you like a love-struck fool. The both of you blushed; you didn’t even remember what your question was anymore. You heard Jisung chuckle timidly under his breath. Getting the pictures you were looking for, you went back to Jisung, who was now laying down with his eyes closed. Finding the way he looked so relaxed pleasing, you snapped a quick shot of him sunbathing under the cool skies with the flowers swaying in the background. Remembering what you wanted to ask him, you were about to ask him your question before the bell rang. “Crap. second period already ended?”

“For real, right?” Jisung said, looking at the building. “Didn’t even feel like an hour passed.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. You walked back to where Jisung was at to grab your things.

“Where are you going?” you looked up to see Jisung sitting up and giving you his doe eyes- which made your heart thump.

“Don’t you wanna eat?”

“Nah,” he said as he laid back down on the makeshift blanket, closing his eyes. “I’d rather stay here and talk to you more.” You heard him whisper. You felt giddy at the fact that he wanted to spend more time with you. “Oh!” he quickly sat up to look at you. “But if you’re hungry, we can totally go to the canteen!” You lightly nodded, feeling your stomach growl.

“Sorry but I didn’t eat breakfast...”

“No problem! That’s why I said we can go!” He stood up and gathered up his things from the ground. He picked up the flannel and dusted it off. “Ready?” He stuck his left arm out for you to take. You giggled as you wordlessly looped your right arm with his. You snuggled closer to his arm, catching a whiff of his cologne. You felt so safe with him, despite only knowing each other for a day.

And that scared you.

You sat on your desk, writing your notes. The black inked pen glided smoothly on the lined parchment. The only source of light was the white lamp on the left side of your desk. Sighing, you stopped writing, feeling the need to sleep overcome you. You placed your pen down and rubbed your face. The chair lightly screeched as you stood up. You switched your lamp off then climbed to your bed, not even bothering to clean up your study space.

As you pulled your blanket over your body, your phone pinged. You turned your head to check the time on the clock. ‘9:57p.m.’, it read. Your eyebrow ticked in irritation. Grabbing your phone, you wanted to text the person the kindest ‘fuck you’ until you read the name.

Message from Min’s ho3

Seeing that it was from Jisung, you abruptly sat up to reply to him, internally cringing at the fact you were so desperate for him. ‘I need to change this dude’s contact name’ you laughed silently. Your phone unlocked and immediately directed you to the message.

Min’s ho3: u up?

Me: Yeah, I am.

I was about to sleep tho ngl

Min’s ho3: fr? dang you sleep early lol

reminds me of seungmin

You scoffed.

Me: It’s not even that early!

Min’s ho3: hmmm yeah it is... 🤗

Me: Excuse me?

Min’s ho3: jkjk

anyways. how are you? wanna chat?

or if you really wanna sleep, thats fine too

Me: Nah. I’d rather stay and talk to you than sleep

You smiled, wondering if Jisung would get your reference.

Min’s ho3: ohhh you make me blush. really using my own words against me, baby?

Me: What? Did that bother you?

What are you gonna do? Punish me?

You squirmed on your bed, squeezing your legs together after sending that risqué text. You were nervous if Jisung didn’t want to reciprocate your feelings...But you knew he would. Of course he would.

Minho’s ho3: it didn’t bother me before, not even a little, but now?

call me

In a flash, you pressed on his contact and tapped on the telephone icon under the picture-less grey icon. The texts faded and changed to the call screen. Your phone only rang once before Jisung answered.

“Baby…” his voice sounded raspy, sending a delightful chill up your spine. ‘Shit…’

You cleared your throat before speaking. “Jisung?”

“Nuh uh. Don’t ‘Jisung’ me, baby,” he spoke. His voice held an air of authority in it, causing your core clench around nothing. “Are you asking for a punishment?” You nodded your head, not even realizing he couldn’t see you. “Hm, baby? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?”

“N-no?”

“No? Then answer me. Are you asking for a punishment, angel?”

“N-no…”

Jisung scoffed. “Well too late now, baby,” he said. “Take off your pajamas for me.” You dropped your phone and slowly stripped off your shorts and underwear. You kicked them to the side of your bed and shivered, feeling the cold air hit your wetness. “Off, babe?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimpered. “They’re off.”

“Good. Do you have any sex toys?”

You felt your face heat up. The thought of you revealing to anyone that you own them was humiliating. “I- yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then use it.”

You hesitantly reached under your bed for your dildo. Embarrassment filled your chest. ‘I’ve used it before. Why am I so ashamed to use it now?’ Before you could insert the purple silicone toy inside you, Jisung spoke.

“Don’t fuck it just yet, beautiful. Want you to tease yourself first.”

You huffed in frustration, not liking how Jisung stopped you but still listened to him. You brushed the dildo on your clit, sighing when you felt the stimulation. You continued rubbing yourself, your hips raising once in a while. Through the phone, you could hear Jisung panting, signaling that he started touching himself as well. The thought made you wetter. “Fuck. Jisung,” you whimpered, biting your lip.

“Not yet, baby,” he sighed. “Keep playing with yourself until I tell you otherwise.”

You wanted to cry. The feeling was good but didn’t want anymore teasing. You moved the toy from your clit to your core, teasing your entrance. You felt yourself clench when it touched you. “Jisung…” you pouted, wanting him to give you permission to fuck yourself.

“I said not yet, brat,” he growled, faintly hearing wet slapping in the background. “Keep asking and you’re not gonna cum at all.”

All you could do was to shut up, not wanting to piss him off any further. You threw your head back, toying with your clit again. You whined and moaned, feeling the beginning of your release bubbling. You called out Jisung’s name again, warning him that you wanted to cum.

“Close already, baby?” he chuckled darkly. “So fast.” You put more pressure on your sensitive bud, core clench rapidly. You were on the brink of cumming when…

“Stop.”

As if you were possessed by his words, you immediately removed the dildo from your clit, making you whine. Tears began streaming down your face at the loss of your orgasm. ‘That fucking sadist’.

Hearing your sniffles, Jisung laughed darkly. “Aww,” he sarcastically sympathized. “Were about to cum?”

“Y-yes…” you said quietly, trying not to back talk to him in case he decides to be crueler to you.

“You were? Aw, I’m sorry, darling,” Jisung snickered. “How about I let you fuck your dildo, hm? To make up for it?”

“Yes, please!”

“Then go for it, angel.”

Finally, you let the silicone toy invade your sopping pussy, letting out a loud moan as it slowly entered you. Hearing your cries of pleasure made Jisung throw his head back with a moan of his own, loving the sinful sounds that escaped your lips. He stroked his cock faster when we heard another moan from his phone.

“Oh shit, Y/n,” he hissed. Your eyes rolled back when you heard him, moving the toy faster inside you. Because of your denied orgasm prior, it didn’t take too long for you to grow close to your second attempt of a release. You moaned, your core clench tighter and tighter with every pump.

“Jisung!” you cried. “‘M so close! Shit!”

“W-wait. ‘Want you to hold it,” Jisung ordered. His breath was heavy, hips bucking as he drew nearer to his orgasm. “Want to- fuck. Wanna cum together, baby.” The thought of cumming together sounded hot. You tried slowing your movements only by a little, still keeping the strength of each thrust. That proved to be useless, however, because you could still feel the warmth in your lower stomach grow hotter and tighter. You bit your lip, feeling the need to scream.

“Jisung, please!” you were full on sobbing at this point, the need to cum was overpowering.

“Shit, ‘m close, Y/n!” he moaned. “J-just a little more!”

Fuck it. You snapped your wrist faster, hoping that Jisung would hurry and catch up to you. On the other line, Jisung was nearing his end, spurred on by the sound of your filthy cries of his name. His hand pumped himself faster, twisting when he was at his tip. Hearing your breathy moans and whines was driving him mad. It was addicting; so addicting that it was the main reason why he was moaning quieter-just to hear you.

“Holy fuck- Y/n!” Jisung cried, his dick spurting steaks of white all over his hand and stomach. Hearing him moan brought you to your own release, twisting and twitching as you cummed around the purple dildo. You called out his name the same manner he did. You shook, quietly whimpering, as you continued to ride out your orgasm until you slowly pulled it out of you. The both of you could only hear the sound of each other’s heavy breathing through your phone. Jisung was the first to speak, though he was still too breathless to speak completely coherent.

“Ah-shit. D-did you feel good, Y/n?”

You hummed as an answer, not having enough energy to do or say anything. The round cheeked boy giggled when he realized this. His chest surged with pride. He smiled lazily to himself. “Really? Sweet,” he sighed. “I’ll go now to let you sleep, yeah?”

You hum again in acknowledgment. “Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep tight.” You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of your phone beeping, signifying the end of your call. As you sat up to clean yourself up, you caught sight of your messages with Jisung.

‘Crap, what am I doing with this boy?’

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