#it’s so easy to hate it and overlook the fun things about it just as it’s so easy to love it and overlook the weird things about it

[randomalistic]

Becoming an adult means realizing helluva/hazbin are Kind of bad

AND you are still allowed to Enjoy Things that are Sorta Bad ❤️ you just acknowledge the flaws along with the strengths

#they’re both a guilty pleasure still #it’s such a weird show like. godly animation super catchy songs #writing? ohh. Not Great #the characters are wonderful they’re just Written Weirdly #helluva is better than hazbin imo but still they suffer from the same problems #vivziepop critical #it’s so easy to hate it and overlook the fun things about it just as it’s so easy to love it and overlook the weird things about it #YOU CAN HAVE BOTH

[ch4nb4ng]

Give it to me Straight

Pairing: Minho x afab!reader

Genre: Best friend's forbidden older brother

Word Count: 9.1 k (yeah we got carried away once again)

Warnings: Based off of inspo (here) and (here) that is also literally porn so dont click if u dont want to see you have been warned.

Also contains: smut, worshipping, angst, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, fingering (f receiving), kissing, penetration, lots and lots of praise, semi soft smut

Notes: HEY!! this is a fic i wrote hald of last year and just forgot about it and found and decided to finish it, hope oyu enjoy !!

Summary: You had enough of your best friend brother, Minho, giving you mixed signals as you grew up, but this. This was the night that you were finally going to do something about it

The night was pretty much over, or well, it should have been. But here you were, sitting on the floor of a random person’s apartment, giggling over and over as you looked at the other 8 people also sitting down in a circle next to you. There were your friends, Sana and Hyunjin, and there were the others. Actually, quite frankly, you did not know these people until tonight. There was one person that was there, that you did know, all too well.

Minho, Lee Minho. Friend, foe? You weren’t sure what to call him, but all you knew was that you were grinding on him in the club an hour ago, hands roaming across your body, lips, teeth on your neck. It was fun, one shot after another had your mind racing, thinking about the possibilities of what could happen after you went home, with him. What wasn’t helpful was the guilt that came with such excitement. 

“Fuck okay,” the stranger yelled, clapping his hands before swinging them, taking the empty vodka bottle off the kitchen bench, “let’s play a good ole fashion game of spin the bottle. Who’s in?”

“Me me me!”

The small crowd cheered in unison, but all you could do was stare at him. More guilt, more excitement, more adrenaline. The thought of kissing him did nothing but intensify the want, the need, the desire to. Wanting to hook up with your best friend’s older brother was the worst thing that you could want at this very moment.

The relationship with Minho was always strange and never straightforward. Even from the first time the two of you met. Your best friend of almost 10 years since you had been in elementary school, he was just different towards you. When you were younger, all he did was pick on you. The short scrawny boy, only a couple of years older than you. Would always chase you around the school yard, always until you fell over, or hurt yourself in some kind of way. You hated him, and had no idea why he always picked on you specifically. 

It changed in middle school, however, after puberty, well, more for him. His face changed, grew taller, much more attractive in your 14 year old eyes. You denied it though, remembering how cruel he was to you. Not much changed personality wise, he was still mean. Picking on you, your grades, his sister, her grades. He was ruthless, and it made you hate him even more. Minho’s looks were easy to overlook when everything that came out of his mouth was rubbish.

It wasn’t until he left for college, and came back for summer after finishing his first year, did things change. He had grown even taller, started working out, and had joined his college’s dance team. Holy fuck did things became different. His smile beamed as soon as he walked in and you in his house, sitting at the kitchen bench. 

***

“Y/n?”

You turned around, jaw dropping the moment you laid your eyes on him. He dropped everything, fast walking towards you as he picked you up, spinning you around with a large chuckle erupting from his chest. He put you down, eyes doing a quick check up and down your body before biting down on his bottom lip.

“Minho?”

“Wow, you look, really, really good.”

His stance was close, almost lingering over you, that was, until your best friend walked in, causing him to step away, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked to the fridge so nonchalantly. Your friend gave you a weird look, mouthing a ‘sorry,’ solely for his presence in the room. They never were that close.

“I forgot to tell you that he got back a few days ago and is going to be here for the summer.”

“That’s okay,” you scoffed, overexaggerated manner, “why would you need to tell me that.”

“Because I know how he can be,” she whispered, “rude, mean, very obnoxious and super, super arrogant.” 

The second half of her sentence was louder, looking straight at him to make sure she knew. You just laughed, nervously, unsure how to take in the interaction.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she sighed, “please don’t bully my only friend while I’m gone.”

The man rolled his eyes, laughing as he took a large gulp from his water bottle. He walked forward, waiting for her to leave before reassessing his position. His hands leaned against the bench, body pushing forward as he leaned towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“I have to go, meeting a friend at the gym, but it was really, really good to see you. We should hang out sometimes if you’re free, you know, without her?”

“We should?”

“Yes,” he smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, “definitely.”

***

“Okay,” the stranger announced to himself, “I’ll go first.”

The game felt like torture. Simply watching the bottle, casting your eyes on what seemed to be an infinite amount of times, spinning on an axis. It didn’t help you at all. If anything, it intensified how dizzy you truly were feeling. Concentration was getting harder, but you refused. Refused to give up anything. You did not want to prove Minho’s point. That you would always be this little girl that is easy to pick on.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin nudged you, “Y/n, psst, the bottle is on you.”

His knock cloaked you out of your drunken daze, bringing some sobriety back as he pointed towards the bottle, eyes opening when you saw it land on you. You looked up, seeing the stranger was already there. He was attractive, short black hair, hazel eyes, freckles. He was really cute, and your brain melted the longer he gazed at you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you whispered, hand in front of your mouth as you giggled at his proximity. You didn’t have to look. The feeling of a pair of eyes burning into the side of your head was more than enough to know who had their eyes on you, and who didn’t. Chan did not, already ditching the game and sloppily making out with the person next to him. Hyunjin followed in pursuit, and Jisung and Sana, well, that was another story, a long time coming. The glance was brief, not long enough to focus on anybody, but well enough to know your surroundings. Enough to see the girl, who looked very familiar, but not enough to be identified by name, whisk her fingers across his inner thigh. He stayed still, not paying any mind to her as he fixated on you. The man joined in the staring contest, noticing Minho’s obviously unimpressed glare. 

He swung his head back in your direction, pushing his body weight on you in the slightest. You followed, back now adjacent to the floor as he leaned over, lips hovering over your own. You brought your index finger to his lips, curious to know more about the man before he kissed you.

“Wait.”

“Is something wrong?” His facial expression changed, unsure as to why or what made you hesitate.

“Oh, no,” you giggled, full of giddyness and intoxication, “your name. I just wanted to know your name before we, well, you know.”

The man smirked, cupping your face in adoration as he leaned closer, lips wisping across your ear as he spoke.

“Well aren’t you just the cutest?”

He pulled away, eyes back in level with your own as he spoke once more, “Felix. I’m Felix.”

That was all you needed, wrapping your arms around Felix’s neck as you pulled him in, eyes closing and mouth opening and lips attacking yours. The kiss in reality, from an outside perspective, would have looked very messy. Very sloppy as lips missed each other, teeth crashed together, and also the fact that you could feel Felix’s hips moving against your own in the slightest, already half hard member grinding against your thigh. It did feel good, you couldn’t fib to yourself. The gentle friction was delicious. It was enough to make you moan discreetly, the sound lost in Felix’s mouth as the two of you continued. 

You were enjoying yourself, but you also remembered not to lose yourself in the moment. Felix was fun, but he was just part of the plan. A simple pawn in a game of chess, of course being the queen and Minho the king. Sometimes you have to make some unnecessary moves to win in the long term. Even with your eyes closed, you could still feel his own burning into the back of your head. If sober, you most likely would have been feeling some kind of guilt. It wasn’t like you to rub things in other people’s faces. But you felt like it was only fitting. Yes, you wanted Minho, but after everything, your timeline with him, having a crush on him for the longest time regardless that he made your life hard, it only felt right to drag this out as much as possible. 

Your eyes fluttered open, empty lidded shooting daggers at him. Appraisal came to your mind when his daggers were returned, gaze still very much fixated on you, with Felix, making out with another man right in front of him. His blood was searing, reaching boiling point at a very rapid rate. He knew you were a lot of things. Sarcastic, blunt, ‘indifferent’ towards him as you got older, or so he thought. But he didn’t take you to be a tease. He was reaching the point of no return, and if you didn’t stop this act, this play scene just for him, he was going to do something he regretted.

“Hmm fuck,” Felix grumbled, pulling away from you, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good kisser?”

Your eyes flickered back to the man on top of you, quickly averting your gaze to avoid any deflections from Minho, Chan, or any of the others there that you knew.

“Hey man, what are you doing?”

You sat up immediately, looking up to see Minho’s friend, Jisung, standing over you. His tone was playful, but the adrenaline was kicking in. The several times you met Minho’s friends, they were decent enough to be nice to your face. Anytime you went over, you could hear them. Talking about how you look, always asking Minho about you. Just them teasing him about you. Maybe it was the reason as to why he had so much disdain for you. They were also protective, very protective of him, and probably the reason why they were standing over you right now.

“Oh hey man, you’re not her boyfriend are you?”

“Who, me?” Jisung laughed, hard, almost hysterically, bringing a hand to his chest to calm himself down, “no no, not me, but the guy over there might be a little mad that you’re making out with his girl.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing onto Felix’s arm, other hand tucking under his chin as you pressed another haste kiss to his lips. You gave Minho one more look, noticing his fists turned inwards, hard shaped as he watched your interactions with the new guy accelerating.

“Good,” He smirked, standing up, and reaching a hand out to you as an invitation, “Did you want to hang out in my room? It’s just down the hall.”

“Sure,” you replied bluntly as you took his invitation. You allowed Felix to guide you, taking one last look at Jisung. Before making your way, you were interrupted one more time. It made you scoff when Minho grabbed your wrist, finally able to do something himself, not his friends doing it for him.

“Y/n?”

“What do you want?”

“Where are you going?”

“What do you think?”

With a heavy grip, attempting to shake yourself out of his grip. There was no way you were giving up on this act yet.

“You just met the guy tonight?”

“Okay and? It’s not like that ever stopped you before. At least I’m not at home, forcing everyone else to hear you late at night.”

He looked down, knowing he had been beaten to the punch. You resisted once more, able to come out of his grip as you looked up and down at him once more, “Stop acting like you give a shit what I do.”

You watched him open his mouth, but missed out on whatever he was going to say. You laughed to yourself, the swift motion of the man from the other side, Felix, the one who was giving you the attention you needed right now. Without a word, he closed the door behind you, spare hand placed on your lower back as he lead you to what seemed to be his bed.You sat down first, Felix making quick work as he stood over you once more, index finger stuck on your shoulder as he effortlessly as he ‘pushed’ you over, torso hovering on top of yours, just like he did previously. You had to give it to him. This Felix guy was smooth. The way he looked down at you, raking your body with every single eye nerve, the gentle twitch when he noticed extra skin showing on your body for a slight moment. He definitely was contributing to your uprising arousal, but the thing that really turned you on was the mere possibility of Minho hearing this. Having his ear up to the door, curious to see what you would really do.

“Hey,” Felix whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, taking you out of your thoughts completely, “everything okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, where were we?”

You brought a hand to his arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion as his own came back to your chin, pinching it forward, lips doting to reconnect with his. His lips were smooth, not a crack or dry spot in sight or in feeling. The kiss was a lot more connected, a lot more teamwork and passion. His tongue lazily slipped inside of your mouth, picking up with much brute and force as his hips charged, recreating the prior friction against your core. Felix had one hand on the side of your jaw, the one on your chin snaking around and cascading down, in between your cleavage, past your navel, brimming on the edge of your undergarment line. You gasped, immediately, not expecting things to move so quickly. A stifled whimper escaped your lips, enjoying the friction his fingers created around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh,” you groaned, slightly high pitched and confused at first, but once his fingers dived past your dress, underneath your core, right in the center of your sweet spot, you groaned again, a deeper, more gratifying noise bellowing in response.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whispered, looking up at him, “feels so good already.”

Your hand felt dizzy again, a lightheaded texture adding. You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or the alcohol speaking, but it most likely was the loud bang that came from the east part of the room. You jumped immediately, bumping heads with Felix as you quickly covered yourself, given no time to fix your hair as you were being dragged out, Minho’s jaw clenched as he walked you out.

“Sorry, uh Felix, it was nice to meet you,” you yelled down the hallway, pushed all the way to the front door.

“Minho what the fuck?”

“Shut up and get in the car,” he growled, not putting up with any nonsense that you were about to spew at him, “Jisung’s taking us all home, your friends included.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed, the digging of his fingers becoming slightly painful. You opened the door, seeing Hyunjin’s smirk as soon as he saw you, hand in hand with Minho. He never had to say anything, he always knew how you felt about him, even when it wasn’t clear to you. 

The midnight breeze was very apparent, hitting you like a truck. The goosebumps on your skin raised in an instant, shiver running down your spine as you walked. Minho let go of your wrist, removing his jump over his head, and plopping it on top of yours. You wanted to turn, scream at him for ruining your hair, not even thinking about your makeup. But honestly, you were just tired. It was late. 

***

You pushed the button down in the backseat, letting the cool breeze smack you across the face as Jisung drove down the highway. It felt nice, distracting you from the imminent pressing of your best friend’s brother inconveniently pressing up against you, too big for the middle seat. Of course he had to sit next to you. Invade your personal space, your privacy. He was still overprotective of you, even when you were by yourselves. It was annoying, and you really didn’t know why he was always like this with you after the needless torture that was gorwing up with him around. 

You decided to put the window up, a sudden drowsiness coming over you as you leaned your head against the window. Your eyes were fluttering, half lidded when you felt someone whispering, right up to your ear. His lips were cold, roughly but incidentally lingering on your lobe.

“Y/n,” Minho hushed, patting your arm lightly, “y/n, baby.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows, “what is it?”

“We’re here, wake up.”

“Oh,” you sighed, releasing your weight on the window. Your eyes opened, turning from the window, which was a big mistake. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. Apart from the club, it was the closest you had been ever to him. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your heart. To have him on your lips, around your body, caressing every crevice, every curve. It was something you had fantasized about in your head several times, whether you wanted to or not. Your hand flew to his chest, truly speechless and unsure what to say.

“Minho. I-”

He licked his lips, fingers latching onto your jaw, thumb against the subtlety of your lips. He flipped, lip bouncing back as he leaned even closer. His breath had never felt so imminent, not even the first time the two of you had shared a kiss.

***

“Did you need help?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, about to lose balance on the stool. The tea bags were high in the cupboard, and you weren’t the tallest person going around. Minho put his arms out, helping you adjust yourself before stepping down and back onto the ground.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “you know me, never able to reach anything.”

“It’s okay, they’re stored pretty high up.”

Without giving you time to move, he reached over, torso pressed against your chest, half of his body weight leaning on you as he reached up to grab one for you. Your face rose in heat as he placed it on the bench behind you, keeping firm in his position.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, still not moving, “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, uhm no, it’s okay” you mumbled back, pushing the hair behind your ear. He beat you to the other side, lifting his fingers, watching how delicately the fibers of your hair curved along your ear lobe. 

Faces inching closer, it felt like do or die, but you would rather get hit by a truck than make the first move. Minho was the type to flirt, hard. He knew he could get anyone he wanted. College really changed him. For the better though, even if it meant he became a mass fuckboy.

“You have a really, uhm, beautiful face.”

He had become nervous all of a sudden, and you couldn’t help but smile. Smile at both his nerves and slight awkwardness, as well as his proximity. 

“Uhm thanks,” you mumbled again, scared that if you attempted to speak at a normal volume, it would squeak, “you have a nice face as well.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, piercing eyes boring into yours.

“Make me.”

He hesitated for a brief moment, before bringing both hands to your face, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft at first, a series of gentle pecks you wrapped your hand palms around his neck, keeping him close. His body felt good, right when close to you.

It didn’t take long for things to heat up however, Minho’s tongue begging for access as you gave it to him willfully, a gentle hum as he simultaneously rolled his hips into yours once. A soft groan escaped your lips, causing him to pull away. The smirk on his face was priceless; you knew he was satisfied with himself. His hands snaked down to your waist, lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen bench. Minho nudged your leg with his left knee, spreading them wide, allowing himself to fit into the curve. He kept his digits across your fingertips, gently tapping as he leaned back in, skipping the innocent kisses and heading straight to a heavy, heavy makeout. The noises erupting were increasing in quantity, and it wasn’t until you heard footsteps running down the steps were you snapped back into reality. Hands on his chest, you pushed him off quickly, pushing your hair back in front of your face.

“Y/n what’s taking you so long?”

“Oh uhm, I was just trying to reach the teabags.”

“Yeah,” Minho joined in, helping you cover your ass, “I just grabbed it for her, seeing as she was already in my way to get to the glasses, annoying ass.”

“Okay whatever weirdo,” she replied to him, “stop annoying Y/n.”

***

The memory of the flashback playing in spurts, ones that your intoxicated mind was probably failing to accurately recall the event. It was, however, enough for you to pull away. Saying nothing, you turned away, opening the car door, semi-stumbling onto the ground as you jumped out the car, heading towards his front door. Luckily your best friend was out of town, away on a camping weekend with her boyfriend and her parents, because if she heard you walking in with Minho, it was game over.

“Y/n,” he whispered, tone harsh like he wanted to yell, “y/n.”

It was nothing but a faint noise in the distance. You stood there, in front of the door, impatiently waiting for it to be unlocked. It wasn’t until you could feel him. He grabbed your wrist, almost having to yank you back to stop you.

“What,” you whispered back, similar in tone, “what do you want?”

He waited. It looked like he was trying to put a thought together, knowing that he needed to say something very important. It could make or break: everything. He took a step closer, that familiar feeling of adrenaline, no, some other feeling that you couldn’t describe. Made your heart race, body sweat. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was. All you knew was that it only happened when he was around you.

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, adoration at how gentle his skin glowed in the moonlight. Fuck, this was annoying. Why did he have to be so hot? It would have been the easy way out to forgive him and let him do what you craved, yearned for. But it was simply too much to do so. This man had been toying with your heart for a long time. Whether he had a crush on you for the lingering amount of time that you had, you deserved better than someone who played with you for their own amusement.

“What are you sorry for?”

Your tone was calm, yet still firmly questioning him. It was easier to just deny the night events than argue about it.

***

The music was loud, deafening as Minho, dragging you by the delicacy of your poor wrist, locked in a spot right next to the speaker right beside the DJ of the club, aka pole position. At first the dancing was innocent, a bright smile of pure joy (and intoxication) plastered across your face, holding each other’s hands as you pushed and pulled them back and forth. It wasn’t until the motions of arms were not moving in the opposite directions, somehow were both pulling in his direction, right up against his waist. The music was much too loud to allow your rational cognitions to process the sequence of events. Facing him, not facing him. Appropriate distance, very much appreciate distance. It was hard to explain how you ended up with your back pressed against Minho’s chest, somehow in the monstrosity of alcoholic beverages and shots actually moving your hips in a synchronized way with his. Maybe it was the firm grip, thumb digging into the soft flesh that was hardly hidden under that dress, making sure that this was the only place you needed to be, that he wanted you to be. 

Your hands easily followed too, palms on top of this tendon illuminating the side of his hands as his lips rested on the outside of the cartilage that made up your ear. The second time you could feel the magic that was his lips. The crowd that was Minho’s friends and the new, yet very much fun strangers that would end up making the later house party were long gone at this very moment. The only thing you could remember was coming with Minho, and the last thing you wanted to do was leave with him.

“Mmmm,” was all that could be heard, well no, felt from the man behind you. The vibrations of his lips were the only indicator that he was trying to say something. His teeth soon followed. Gentle, almost kitten-like nibbles nipped at the heated flesh of the neck and shoulder, head falling limp against his own shoulder as he continued to chuckle inbetween. There seemed to be an innocence to his antics, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. Yet knowing the downright filthy desires, things he wanted to do, for a numerous amount of time was very much ironic.

Turning around, you pulled away, eyes boring into yours and his face came closer and closer. Eyes fluttering shut like a butterfly's wings for a brief moment, desire had never been stronger.

“There he is, Jisung!”

And just like that, it was over. Reality came back and your Minho clouded fog dissipated in a matter of moments, and it must have for him. You had never seen someone take their hands of someone with such speed. The timely reaction of Minho brought you back to a realistic part of your life. The one where this was nothing but a dream, and Minho was once again out of reach, and the many barriers that were his friends, your friend being in the way, made you nothing but a pawn in his chess game.

***

You stood there in silence, the only sound that could be heard was the ringing in your ears from the loud music prior. The want for him to explain himself was one of such desperation. A sign, anything at this point. Yes, you were very much exhausted from the games but if it was all worth it for him to finally do something about it in the end, the fatigue would be easily wiped away.

“I don’t mean to be this way. So, uhm, aggressive? Or the opposite, I don’t know I-”

“Minho in the nicest way possible, I’m tired and we’ve both had a big night. We can talk about it in the morning.”

Using the spare key that your friend had so graciously given you as a symbol of how much time you truly spent at her house, his house, over the years, the door was unlocked, you ripping your shoes off and letting them laz sprawl against the living room carpet as your body heavily dragged up the stairs. Your feet automatically knew the way to her room, 4 paces straight and two to the left. To get to his it was 7 paces straight 2 to the right. The 4th step on the second floor felt unnatural at this moment, body wanting nothing more than to be pressed up against him in a deep slumber, you craved it; but you knew better at the same time.

“Y/n.”

Silence. You could feel him coming closer, but it’s honestly just too painful at this point to even wait for anything more.

“Y/n.”

Silence, again. It wasn’t until you could feel the unintentionally harsh pull at your wrist, once again pulling back and up against him.

“Y/n wait.”

“For fucks sake Minho,” you huffed, yanking your arm away from his grip, “leave me alone.”

“No, I want to talk about it now.”

Nothing but an eye roll followed, ignoring him and storming into her room. He followed in pursuit, the first time any kind of behavior like this from Minho had happened before. Sitting on the edge of the side of her bed, you turned away as you took off your jewelry, precious earring and delicate chain necklace lying on this decorative plate placed on the bedside table.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Can we please stop pretending like there isn’t something going on between us?”

He was not serious. His bold statement made you stop, turn around and face him.

“You have to be joking right now.”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Minho” you yelled, standing back up and right in front of him, “this is nothing but a fucking game to you! We don't have a problem, YOU do.”

“I don’t play games with you,” Minho scoffed, eyes wide in his own disbelief, “you play games with me.” His voice was also beginning to rise in volume.

“That’s such a fucking lie! You’ve been playing games with me for years. Three quarters of my life! I know that you hated me or couldn’t stand me for most of that but then all of a sudden you come back from college and you want to be around me and all over me?”

“That’s not true-”

“Yes it is! You couldn’t stand me!! Then the kiss in the kitchen? Tonight, you were all over me and I could tell, drunk or sober, that you were enjoying yourself. Until your friends come along and I’m nothing but a secret little game-”

“No Y/n, shut up, that's not true!”

“Explain yourself then!” 

Both of your chests were heaving simultaneously, the heated exchange taking the breath out of the two of you. There was no part of you that was wrong, and you knew better than to lack confidence, especially to someone who has kicked you around for what felt like your whole life.

“I never hated you,” he whispered, once again shifting the tense atmosphere in the room. He took a step closer, that goddamn palm resting on your cheek, fingertips pushing the baby hairs sticking to your forehead as you took him in, listening deeply to his words, “I could never hate somebody like you, Y/n.”

His tonality had become the softest you had ever heard someone speak. It was empowering to keep him on his toes, gaze fixated on him, but lips refusing to move. You could see it. The dip in his own gaze below your eye line, past the tip of your nose, and right to where you wanted his lips to be: your lips. The right thing, like your previous thoughts, was to pull away, save yourself the heartbreak.

“Let me take the time to show you how false that statement really is.” 

But god, was it it easier to just give him. His approach was gentle, but the texture of his lips felt like the key to everything. The light weight of his lips were equivalent to a tuft of feathers falling from a clear sky. Your lips tussled in return, wanting to kiss the man you were in love with so much passion, yet so much reservation. His lips, unlike the first time, had so much admiration for you, somehow the feeling was communicated in the way his lips touched yours, the way his tongue slipped into your mouth, colliding with your own. The world stopped spinning, and the only thing that mattered was Minho’s lingering touch.

His hands scrambled to find an appropriate spot. His palms spread across your waist, the pressure of his weight pushing you to the edge of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips as the sudden knock of balance leaves you lying against the material of the bed. His hands left your sides, one coming to your face as he broke away, taking a moment to admire you underneath him in all your beauty. He lifted his fingers to your forehead, brushing the baby hairs on your skin before smiling and leaning back in for another kiss. Hands around his neck, you brought him closer, gasping into his mouth when you felt the roughness of his knee conveniently sitting between your inner thigh, spreading to make room for his own. 

You decided to take the liberty of breaking the kiss back this time, Minho rising on his own as he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion. Even the way he moved his limbs was majestic. Eyes widening for a brief moment as the shock of Minho’s body that you had seen many times, especially post-college transformation, it still amazed you how attractive this man was. The proximity all these years amounting to this moment. All the teasing, ignoring, negative behavior came as the collateral of coming to this moment; and you would tolerate all of it again if this what it would lead to. Which is why you refused to rush things, savor the moment as much as you could.

“Minho, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Can we just,” you were hesitant to ask for what felt like a silly request, “I don’t want to rush anything. Can we just make out a little longer?”

His chuckle was one of the most adored. He nodded as he got up from the bed, sitting back down at the edge of the right side. As he turned to put his leg atop of the bed, he leant on his left elbow, patting the empty spot next to him, a very adorable invitation that you simply could not resist. You shooed over, facing Minho as he pinched your chin, bringing your lips to his again. The kisses, for the moment, stayed soft, sweet. He was allowing you to take your time because he was ready. Minho wanted you so bad, but he knew better than to rush. If anything, the anticipation made him fall for you more.

However, the heat was unconsciously beginning to turn up once bodies became involved. The subtle grind of his hips against yours was sending you into a frenzy, and the friction was something you needed to chase. At first you were holding back, only wanting the generosity of his tongue and lips, but now the selfish part of you was taking over, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to have sweet passionate sex with the man in front of you. Gently pushing his chest away, he looked up, confused as you turned away from him, standing up and undoing the zip on the back of your dress.

“Oh,” was all he could say, a smirk plastered on his face as he dragged your body back toward him, now covered in undergarments, back to the bed. His hands became a lot more adventurous, taking the signal of you undressing yourself as an acceleration of what you wanted. Still facing each other, Minho placed a gentle peck to your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you much closer to him, and exactly where you wanted to be. 

Once the lack of space was established, Minho brought the tip of his digits just above your panty line. A small gasp elicited from your lips once his fingers dipped down to your clothing covering your core. Just above the center of the folds. Minho’s lips quiver at your body relaxing underneath his touch. The more vulnerable you became, the more in love he fell with you. Each second. Your eyes fluttering almost shut, hips gently bucking underneath the pressure of his fingers had his mind screaming with adoration. His gaze was making you shy, causing you to bury your head in his naked chest. You giggled with innocence at how good his fingers felt. The other times you reminisced, romanticized what this would be like was tenfold of what you actually expected. 

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered, a soft kiss to the tip of your forehead. Your head came out of his chest, a somewhat fucked out expression already coatign your face as his fingers traveled back to the top of your panties, fingers grasping the hem before asking, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded, this time without hesitance as you turned to your front, assisting Minho in letting the thin fabric subtracted from your body. Your bra soon followed, leaving you completely exposed. Minho still had his pants on which you felt to be a little unfair, but the tent that was beginning to form in his pants was a reason enough for him to keep them on longer. 

Turning back to your side, you reached him in another sensual kiss, bodies now as close as they had even been. Minho’s fingers had much more to travel, left palm already reaching for a gentle squeeze of your best breast. His touch was noticeable enough to break away, a small groan at the digits brushing your nipple. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched your nipples get harder under his touch.

“Wow,” Minho gasped, gently pinching the soft flesh his eyes couldn’t help but be glued to, “you look amazing.”

“Do I?”

“More than I could have ever  imagined.”

Your silence made him giggle, fingers snaking back down to where the two of you wanted them to be. It was almost embarrassing how easily his index and middle finger slipped between your folds, already coated in your arousal as his digits swirled around your pussy hole. It was evident that he wanted his fingers coated, so when he brought them up to his lips, tongue evidently out as he licked them clean, then slid them back down to your waist once more, spreading your folds apart and pushing on your clit like a button. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for support, the sudden amount of sensation in comparison to before sending you into a frenzy. Your jaw had already become slick, the gentle whines and moans spilling out sound after sound. 

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath, lips right in front of your tits, teeth grazing over the geneoristy of the skin, “you have the features of an angel.”

His shower of compliments caused a louder moan to slip from your lips. It really wasn’t something that you expected. The fantasy you had of Minho being a rough, man handling lover contrasted to the man that presented in front of you right now. But it was much better than anything you ever thought he was to be.

His fingers moved in delicate circular motions, Minho himself groaning at how pretty you looked under his fingers. He kept his curiosity peaked, fingers traveling back down to your hole before plunging them inside, tips instantly curling to bring his lips right up against his own.

“Minho oh my god,” you gasped, short breaths hinting at a rapid pace from your throat as he started to move them back and forth, “your fingers are so good.”

“Your welcome,” he smiled, wrapping his free arm around your chest to adjust for the way your torso squirmed against him. Your own hands soothing his arm that did all the work as he picked up his pace, a slight bump forming into your pussy. Minho’s pace became quickly unforgiven, a spill of curse words that made you feel extremely dirty coming from your mouth. The irony of feeling dirty from cussing and not from the two fingers being shoved into your whole was comedic. 

“Lift it,” Minho grunted, attempting to fix his position so he could get a better angle to finger you from, “lift your leg and put it on my hip.”

You did as he said, a gut wrenching moan that was bubbling in your throat bursting at the seams as your maneuver allowed his finger to enter deeper, stronger, harder. The combination of skin slapping and wetness could be heard by anyone in the house if there was anyone in there, the noise echoing the room as you watch his eyebrows furrow, bitten bottom lip in concentration. All this time, Minho wanted nothing more than to see you be happy, make you feel good. It was in half disbelief that he was present in this moment that he had dreamed of several times. And his perception of you, with his fingers inside of you, moaning his name over and over exceeded expectations to say the least. The temperature that began to rise on your cheeks was spreading to your limbs, muscles slowly coiling as the pleasure continued to build at your core. Minho’s jaw clenched, increasing his effort and strength in, with much effort, fucking you with his fingers. His pace became even quicker, desperate and motivated to make you shake under his fingers.

“Minho please,” you cried, suffocating his lips with yours to muffle the continuous noise that baffled the room, “so good.”

Your sentences, if you could even call them that, were not coherent in the slightest. Yet it did not matter. All Minho could focus on was how beautiful you looked with your lips pouted, the gentle teeth marks under your bottom lip from biting down on your precious skin too hard. The condensation beginning to cover the skin of your forehead as your eyebrows scrunched together, your facial expression could have been interpreted as anger. However, Minho failed to see it that way. He saw you as nothing but an angelic woman that he had the gratitude of being allowed to share a moment of vulnerability with. There was no judgment in his eyes as he felt your tight pussy clench around his knuckles, knowing how close to what you were, and what he wanted to achieve for your sake.

“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, wiping the moisture glistening on the nose, half of your face shimmering in the moonlight as he withdrew his fingers, rubbing the sensual juices all over your swollen clit as your legs began to shake in response to the overwhelming stimulation you were experiencing.

“Can you feel it?”

“Mhhm,” you whined, suppressing your lips together as you focused on him, analyzing to him the intricate details of your body. His lips moved with vigor, leaving a string of semi wet kisses along your shoulder, kissing every little skin contusion, beauty mark, scab, wrinkle, dimple. You name it, Minho was eager to use his lips to analyze you, analyze the way your skin felt against him. The idea increased your arousal to a level you thought would not be possible.

“I’m gonna cum Minho I-”

“It’s okay baby,” Minho hushed you, wanting to relive any pressures or expectations you may think you need to fulfill “even the way you speak such vulgar things is angelic to me.”

“I’m cumming,” was all you could cry out. You know that once this was over, you would be appreciative of how gentle and warm his presence was to you during this unguarded moment, but right now all you could focus on was the tight coil in the pit of your stomach that would give out at any second. Like your foreshadowed, your body was coming undone under him, Minho unable to give up the succulent ability that was your pussy as he reinserted his two fingers back into your hole, thumb almost ghosting over your clit in an attempt to not overwhelm your body in sensation.

Minho thought you couldn’t get any more fascinating. Even the way you orgasmed was angelic. Legs spread wide open as you let him have his way. The trust you developed in him in this intricate moment was such an attraction but mainly an appreciation. He knew that he had not been the most trustworthy person to you. His mixed signals and just overall treatment of you was simply a mind of confusion.

On the contrary, every negative moment that you shared with him melted away. The part of him having his fingers inside of you, bringing you to climax was not what you were focused on. You were focused on the attention. Solely the attention, his words held so much more weight than his actions to you in this moment, and all he did was mumble sweet nothings, adoring every single part of you that you wanted Minho to love.

“Fuck baby,” Minho groaned, finally withdrawing his fingers entirely from your core as he palmed his own arousal. But he merely wasted any time on that as he stood up and discarded his pants in an instant. A half lidded gasp came from your throat as you watched his length spring free from the suffocation of his previous undergarments. Minho laid back on the bed, back against the bed as you extended a hand in which you willingly took, enjoying the sudden rapture that Minho had tangled the two of you in. His fingertips came to your face once more, brushing those delicate strands away as he took his precious time. Willingly ignoring the fact that your very slicked up pussy was creating friction against his tip, he was more focused on your face. The crinkles underneath your eyes that came up when you smiled. The way your lips turned upwards in the slightest. The longer he looked up at you, on his lips, body pressed up against his, the more he fell in love. Both of your hands now came to his face. It felt like hours upon hours that the two of you had been looking at each other. Calmness fell over the room as you leant down to kiss him again. The taste of him was simply nor enough. You needed him. On you, next to you; it did not matter. His presence was something that you truly craved. Sexually, platonically, romantically, it did not matter. Any closeness with Minho was more than adequate. Deciding to lift your hips slightly, your hands followed, gripping him as you slowly slid onto him, a deep groan leaving his lips, a soft moan leaving yours as he stretched you out. Before you could even initiate any moment, Minho grabbed your arm lifting your palm to his face as he sent kisses up your arm, almost as if he was in complete disbelief of what was happening in this moment.

“I just want to worship you my god,” he whispered, making you giggle in the slightest.

His lips traveled just under your shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso to bring you into another embrace. It was that his strength was brute enough to lift you up, and put your back down. Hisbody almost moved with vigor, wanting to make sure the experience was an equal one. A sharp whine came from you as he established a gentle pace, your whole body being used in an attempt to pleasure the both of you. Someone may have seen this as selfish, Minho controlling the pace, but really, he just couldn’t get enough of how much he wanted you. The amount of times he had thought about this moment over the years almost derailed him. But nothing could be more perfect than the moment right now. 

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, then on his chest, across his face, you were too stimulated to be organized with your hand placements. It’s just what he did to you. Minho could tell that you were unsure, so instead he just put his head in your chest, almost wanting you to wrap your fingers though the bse of his scalp, the gentle texture of your fingers against his scalp could have honestly made his toes curl. Just like you, Minho craved your touch in any way shape or form, so the combined combainton of your closeness, tussling digits, and tight pussy was sending him into a headspin.

“Minho,” you hesitated, unsure, if he could hear you in the muffle of your chest, “Minho.”

You were desperate for him to hear you, yanking on his locks to pull him away from the darkness and back into your gaze. His eyes were glazed over for a moment, an innocent peaking on them as he looked up at you with intent.

“Yes my princess, my Y/n?”

“Yours?”

The skin slapping, volume of each time your ass landed on his hips was increasing, but no matter the crescendo, it was never loud enough to get in the way of the intimate looks the two of you had a silent agreement to fixate on.

“Mine,” he moaned, hands snaking back down to your hips, breaking this distance and once again guiding the speed of how fast he filled you up, “all mine.”

“You’re so gorgeous,” you mumbled, barely able to talk at this point, “I want you so bad you have no idea.”

“You have me,” he almost chanted, “you have me. I have you. Always.”

Your head rolled back, the intimacy of his words, rather than his cock, bringing you closer to the brink of pleasure. The attractiveness of finally putting his walls down, striking his fear of vulnerability was unmatchable. Even if things didn’t work out with Minho in the future, you knew that deep down, no one else could ever make you feel this way. Minho was a witch, and the spell he was casting on you was something that would be everlasting.

“I love you,” you cried, throwing your head back in somewhat embarrassment, “I love you Minho.”

“I love you too baby fuck,” he grunted, increasing the strength in which he filled your pussy. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Flipping you over, his body hovered, cock pressing your back into the mattress. On his knees, Minho trusted deeper and deeper, your eyes almost cloudy from how good he truly felt inside of you. Another sensuous kiss ensured, the combination of his deep moans and your vibrating whines slipped into each other 's, easily one of the most intimate things that could ever be done. 

“Mhhm,: You whined, breaking away and placing a hand on his face, “I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you, my Y/n.”

“Oh god,” you breathe heavily, free hand gripping on his shoulder, “I love when you call me that?”

“What? My Y/n?”

“Yes,” you hissed, piercing into his eyes, this time with vigor, “it makes me yearn for you.”

“You have me baby,” he smirked, eyebrows soon furrowing as he realized his hips were getting sloppy in motion, “I’m all yours.”

You could not stop kissing him. He was just too hard to resist. His words, actions, everything, you were so in love that your chest began to hurt. That pit was developing again, and all he had to do was say the words and you were there. Minho took your hand away from his face, pinning them on either side of you as he slid his fingers in between, allowing your hand to intertwine with yours. The affection was the icing on your cake, because as you felt the swirls of his finger prints trickle onto your palm, your hips were spasming.

“Minho I’m-”

“I know baby, it’s okay, he cooed, “I can feel your pussy clenching hard.”

A little giggle escaped your lips as your body raked itself of an orgasm. Back arching, the loudest noise you could have possibly made erupted from your mouth, the unintentionally new angle allowing Minho to plunge even deeper, keeping it slow as he allowed you to come down from the high. He pulled out right after, pumping himself a few times before finishing just above your core. He fell to your side, immediately lifting your body, wanting to feel that constant warmth as he placed your head against his chest, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the mount of hair in front of his face. His heartbeat was warm, fast, but stil, a sense of comfort felt over your body as you listened to the organ pump in his chest. The moment was silent, yet comfortable, the both of you simultaneously soaking in that delicacy of affection that you both oh so craved, longed for.

Even after all of that, you still had the energy to do so. Minho read your mind, giving you a quick peck before quickly pacing out of the room. The ache in your heart had already reappeared at his absence. The craving would never stop. Luckily he was quick, grabbing a paper towel, cleaning you up, running back to the bin, the running back and jumping onto the bed, your body flying in the air as he caught you, snuggling up to your side with his head pressed into your chest. Your hand came to his hair, letting those fingertips frolic across his scalp. A silence fell over the room as the two of you simultaneously stared at the ceiling, the dim shine of the moonlight shining through the window, lingering across Minho’s side profile.

“I was being serious, you know.”

“About what?”

“Hating you.”

Minho turned onto his chest, wanting to make sure that you were staring at him when he said this.

“I could never hate you Y/N, my Y/N.”

He crawled up to your side, tall enough to press one more kiss, lips lingering across yours as your eyes fluttered shut from his touch. Lifting the cover, Minho invites you under after climbing in first, turning to the side to hover over your now very tired frame. Lips nudged behind your warm Minho kept mumbling, a combination of kissing you and whispering, the tiny vibrations from his voice tickling the bare skin.

“You’ll have to kill more before I ever let you go.”

#minho #lee minho #minho smut #lee minho smut #lee know #lee know smut #minh imagine #minho scenario #minho x reader #lee minho scenario #lee minho imagine #lee minho x reader #lee know imagine #lee know scenario #lee know x reader #stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #stray kids scenario #skz scenario #skz x reader #ch4nb4ng

[cottonundiestf]

Plain Jane (Attribute Theft, BE, Altification)

She hated that her parents named her Jane. They didn't know they were signing her up for torture. They didn't know Jane Gray would grown into an exceptionally plain young woman, turning the name she grew up with since childhood into the perfect insult. Plain Jane. Even her nickname couldn't be unique.

The eighteen-year-old finished the gauntlet of social torment that was high school and she didn't see how college was going to be any better. With her dishwater brown hair, stick-like figure, lower-middle class upbringing, and total lack of style, Jane was overlooked at best and teased at worst.

There was a big senior bonfire at the beach for graduates to celebrate their last summer before going off to college and jobs, and for some reason, Jane let her friend Danielle drag her out for one last hurrah.

When she got to the beach, everyone was having fun and barely noticed her arrival. She went to find Dani, but before she could, her eye was drawn to a gold necklace nestled in the cool sand. It had three gold moon charms of different phases, each seemingly missing a stone that should be set in it.

Jane considered looking for the owner of the necklace, but everyone was too busy to give her the time of day anyway, right? Screw it, she deserved one nice thing tonight.

She fastened the necklace around her neck as Dani, one of her only friends at school, found her. She handed Jane a drink so they could reflect on graduation and look ahead to college, an experience Jane still wasn't optimistic about.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Jane. Besides, college is going to be the perfect time to reinvent yourself."

Everyone always said that. But that was easy for Dani to say; she never had a problem standing out. She grew out of a goth look and attitude over the years, but that just left her as some kind of alt rock goddess, with her dyed hair and a collection of tattoos Jane's parents never would have signed off on at such a young age. Even her style was full of bold blacks and vibrant neons that Jane just could never pull off.

Jane wished she could be half as exciting as Dani while Dani seemed drawn to stare at her friend's new accessory. "Woah, that's a really cool necklace. Is it... um... new?"

Dani looked dizzy, her eyes starting to glaze over. "Dani? Dan—woah." The sudden wave of dizziness passed on to Jane, but it wasn't the only thing.

She felt the ripple of goosebumps across her skin as art pieces etched themselves in ink, each tattoo flooding her head with memories of tattoo parlors and songs that inspired them. It wasn't the kind of music Jane listened to, except... well, it was, right? Her and Dani traded songs and bands, sneaking out to underground concerts throughout high school. Dani was even the one to dye Jane's hair a vibrant blue before graduation.

When the sudden wave of memories and pleasure associated with her tattoos subsided, Jane finally looked herself over, realizing she didn't imagine the change. She started to say something to Dani before looking her over again.

She had fewer tattoos and piercings; if Jane had to guess, she had lost about as many tattoos as Jane gained. What's more, her blue hair was now black with a few blue streaks. She was still gorgeous though, which was why Jane was dating her.

Wait. What?

Jane was always your typical straight girl, but that's not what her memories were telling her, and it certainly wasn't what her body thought. All those nights sneaking out weren't just to go to parties. Dani and Jane had their queer awakenings around the same time, and who better to explore that with then your punk rock bestie?

Dani finally came to, seemingly unaware of what changed or the features Jane... well, stole. Unintentionally, but that was absolutely what happened. "Want to get out of here and...?" Dani just grinned.

Jane felt the sudden warmth in her cheeks and... other places. "Yeah, let's—wait. Er, sorry, but not just yet. I... want to go around and talk to a few people first?"

Dani stared at her girlfriend blankly. "...You do?"

Jane laughed weakly, coming up with a lame excuse of wanting to end things on good terms before leaving her hometown in the Fall. Dani accepted the excuse with a kiss and left Jane alone to inspect her necklace.

As expected, this had to be involved somehow. The crescent moon charm had a new sapphire set in it, leaving her with two gemless moons. Assuming she knew what that meant now...

Jane wandered the periphery of the party, looking girls from her graduating class over. She felt a little guilty for what she took from Dani, but she didn't have the same apprehensions about the girls who spent the years ignoring her.

Eventually, she spotted Lily. Everyone knew she was a social butterfly and a huge flirt, and she had the look to back it up. She had the hips, she had the ass, and as every guy on the beach could tell you, she had a perfect pair of breasts. She even had a pretty face to match, proving fate played favorites.

But fate wasn't in charge tonight. "Hey Lily! Good luck next year. Got any plans?"

The redhead looked away from the two guys chatting her up, confused by the introvert's sudden friendliness. "Hey. Um, Jane, right? Thanks! I've got a job lined up, so... er... sorry, that's just a really nice... necklace?"

No one around them seemed to notice, but Lily and Jane were falling into the same daze she put Dani under before as their realities swapped a few key details around.

There was a sudden spark in Jane's heart. Something feisty. She was always an awkward, quiet kid, but that was all over. She was the one who made herself the life of the party wherever she went. She could feel it on her tongue; flirtation was like a second language Jane was fluent in.

Jane's beanpole figure filled out, her hips flaring to accommodate a new bubble butt. Her flat chest swelled, not quite to the perfectly shaped DDs Lily has... had, but to a size where she could feel them weighing on her chest. Lily was never actively antagonistic to Jane, so she was willing to leave her some gentle curves and some perky A cups.

But she did take all she could from that stunning face. Soft freckles, high cheek bones, full lips, and some fuck-me eyes that could make a man unload his wallet.

Which was what made Jane realize what else she took: the new job Lily had lined up. Jane's awkward, unimpressive body was now made to dance and show off, and that meant she was excited for the chance to strip her way through college for some spending money. She even stole Lily's stage name, Lulu. (It wasn't Lily at her most creative, but now it wasn't Lily's at all, so that was fine.)

Lily finally came to, finishing her inspection of the new ruby in Jane's half-moon charm. Her face was so bland now, like a stock character made to fill in the background of a video game. When Jane smiled and excused herself, Lily looked around, unsure of what to do now. The poor thing would acclimate to her new social anxiety in time, and in time, Jane would adjust to the guys who kept offering her drinks.

With one charm left, Jane had an idea of who she'd use it on, but the night was young. She spent some time dancing and teasing guys from her class, reveling in the attention she lacked in her old life. This was almost perfect.

But perfection was Melody Morgan.

"Jane? No fucking way. That can't be Plain Jane."

Interrupting Jane's dancing, a blonde in a teeny bikini glared at her. Melody was your classic rich bitch, with the best toys, the most popular boyfriend, and a pair of fake tits bought by daddy as a graduation gift to add on to her natural beauty. All those blessings and she still chose to spend the last four years tormenting Jane.

The guy Jane was dancing with, Melody's boyfriend, Tristan, looked at her in confusion. "Plain Jane? Are you feeling okay, babe?"

"Hush!" She pulled her fingers across her lips like a zipper, and Tristan's voice cut out like he was muted. "I don't know what kind of trick this is, but... HEY! You took my necklace!"

Jane blinked, realizing what had happened. The charm necklace was Melody's. And with it, there came the realization that Melody's nice things weren't blessings; they were magic.

The realization dawned on her: what if this wasn't the first time Melody used magic to steal the luster from other girls?

"You little twerp. I'm going to turn you into the toad you are, then I'll take my... my neck..."

Melody was so arrogant, she didn't realize she was staring into the charms, falling under the power of a very pissed off Jane.

There was an element of intent with stealing from people, Jane realized. She wanted half of what made Dani so bold. She wanted most of Lily's beauty and allure.

But she wanted everything from Melody. The bitch didn't deserve any of it.

She didn't focus on herself because she wanted to watch Melody. She watched her thighs thin out and her curves flatten. The luster of her blonde hair went dull. The tact Jane used with Lily was gone as every bit of tit the bitch had, real or synthetic, dissolved until Melody's chest was as flat as the rest of her.

Looks weren't all Melody didn't deserve. Memories started vanishing, from her honors classes to her active dating history to the witchy rituals her aunt taught her when she came of age. She looked around at the beach as all the faces became strangers to the witch who was once the most popular girl in her class.

Eventually, the plain, uneducated, outsider came to her senses, looking around only to realize everyone on the beach was acting like she didn't exist. The only person who seemed amused by her was an absolute goddess rocking tattoos and long, shiny blue hair.

The guy behind the bluette bombshell had his hands all over her, disregarding the stick-figure girl. "Who's this, babe?"

The blue-haired witch grinned wickedly, filled with the elitist attitude she stole from a top mean girl. She'd stolen her rival's body, mind, and boyfriend. Dani wasn't a stickler for monogamy, and really, didn't she deserve a boyfriend and a girlfriend?

But that wasn't the only thing she took from her former bully. "I don't know, Tristan. Hey bitch, what's your name?"

It took the mundane young woman a second to even remember. "Oh, um. Jane Morgan?"

That made Jane, now Melody laugh. "Oh, Plain Jane! I knew her once, but she just sort of fell off the face of the Earth. Glad to see you've been up to nothing interesting, but this is actually a closed party."

Melody Gray fiddled with her necklace, the full moon charm now adorned with a brilliant diamond to complete her set. It sat above an almost cartoonishly large chest. Maybe she went a bit overboard, but daddy promised her a boob job, and Melody loved when every guy and girl on the beach couldn't help but stare.

The queen bee of the beach sighed, officially done with Jane. She wasn't a bully anymore; she wasn't anything. She was insignificant, and that was enough for Melody. "Run off and do... well, who cares, right?"

Jane ran off with tears in her eyes, grappling with a sense of loss she couldn't quite explain as she ran off to her unremarkable life. Melody, meanwhile, reveled in her boyfriend groping her as her new memories as the popular it girl and richest witch in town replaced a much less interesting life she was happy to leave behind.

(Thank you to my Sugar Patrons for helping me with another fun poll of suggestions! There was a tie, so that means you get attribute theft AND altification! The model used goes by Riae! Find ways to support me as a Sugar Patron on my Discord!)

#breast expansion #personality change #transformation kink #altification #bitchification #attribute theft #reality change #magical transformation

[marymary-diva17]

Girl at this point giving you requests is my hobby.

New idea: how about instead of a hated sully!reader, we could have a favorite child reader.

Like, eywa decided that she'll be the strongest and most skilled future Ole'eykatei, so all of the attention is towards her, overlooking the rest of her siblings.

She's Lo'ak's younger twin sister, but she's made the future clan leader because she's special.

She doesn't mind her role or destiny, but she's also kind and wise and calm every time, helping her siblings whenever they need her.

She has scars from defending the clans but also from fighting the sky people, making Jake and Neytiri more attentive of her instead of her siblings.

Ps: she's very tall and biff for na'vi, like 9'11 with big fangs and a lot of admires.

I don't mind if you can't do it, just wanted to give you a new idea.

Sully family x reader

Jake and neytiri had started a family after the war and the rebuild of the clans as well, what they didn't know was that they were going to be blessed big family. A wonderful family indeed but it was hard for them at times to see that they had favor their kids and left some in the shadows. You are one of their favorites kids and you have seen the effect of favoritism your parents have done, on your family and hated it even the clan did the same thing as well.

Y/n " hey I'm going out scouting and maybe some hunting" you had entered the common area of your family home, as you soon came across your twin brother neteyam, your dad and your uncle Tsu'tey.

Jake " that good always doing the best for my clan, it good that you are your brother as taking your roles seriously"

neteyam " we are planing a bit more attack plans wish to stay and help us"

y/n " I will love to big brother but that your specialty remember you are always good that planning them out, I'm mostly good with the escape plans for the family and clan"

Tsu'tey " your sister is very honorable neteyam giving your credit for you work and role in the clan"

neteyam " yes she is"

y/n " oh yes dad kiri and tuk had went off with grandmother to help her today, as I had helped her yesterday"

Jake " you know you always amazing me sharing responsibility and titles with your siblings, most kids wouldn't do that"

y/n " I love and care about my family hey why don't you ask lo'ak to help he at age to start helping dad, he will become a warrior when he older"

Jake " I think lo'ak is better suit for something else then is" you hated it when you father shot down your ideas of letting lo'ak help, when it came to battle plans. Your mother and father always favored you and your siblings more, and it always left lo'ak in the shadows at times.

y/n " yes sir" you had soon grabbed your arrow and blade and soon left home, you had become a skilled warrior, hunter, healer, and spiritual guide so a young age. Your body had become strong over the years of training and you are tall for your age as well, but not as tall are the other warrior women of the clan.

y/n " hey lo'ak spider" you had been walking when you came across lo'ak and spider.

lo'ak " hey sis"

spider " hey y/n"

y/n " hey I was going hunting and scouting maybe mixed with explore and some fun, and I was wondering if my boys will love to come verse staying here all day"

lo'ak " are you sure"

y/n " yes I love spending time with you two"

spider " yes we will come we have out stuff anyways"

y/n " good now come with me and let have some fun" spider and lo'ak soon had walked away from home with you, as the tiro was walking it was easy to tell something was the matter.

y/n " what the matter and don't lie I know something the matter with you two"

lo'ak " once again it feels like we are being left out of stuff, dad lets neteyam in during his meetings and our sisters get time with mom and grandmother ... and you get to do both"

y/n " ......"

spider " no matter what we do we will see be seen as outsiders, to all the grown ups"

y/n " I can see where you guys are coming from"

lo'ak " we know you do your best to make sure we get involved but, it seems to fall on deaf ears"

y/n " yes I have tried my best like I have done with all our siblings and I will not stop trying, and I hate the favoritism that is played it makes me sick"

spider " thanks y/n"

y/n " anytime"

lo'ak " now come on let get some hunting down or anything else done" you had soon laugh and soon the boys had followed in laughter, after everyone was done laughing the group soon went back to their mission of the day.

y/n " this will be good place there always something good here to hunt"

spider " got it we will look out for anything"

y/n " good"

lo'ak " let see what we can caught today" the tiro was looking around trying to find anything.

spider " hey over here" everyone soon raced to where spider was at and soon saw some animal tracks.

lo'ak " It not that far from here we can track it down and it seems like it with a herd, so we might caught one or more"

y/n " then lets get going" The tiro soon followed the tracks and soon found the massive herd by the water. The three of them were looking at the herd and soon each other.

lo'ak " there are some big one there"

y/n " yes it will be good for the clan so boys which one"

spider " you are letting us pick"

y/n " yes so which one"

spider and lo'ak " that one over there" you and seen the on they had pointed out, you had nodded at them and soon everyone got ready for the hunt. The herd had started moving making the hunt even more challenging but the tiro was not giving up, as the ran after the herd as the animals were speeding up.

y/n " I will fire the first shot and then you two can follow after"

lo'ak and spider " yes" you had fired the shot hitting the beast but it was not going down yet. Lo'ak and spider had fired arrows at the same time soon bring down the beast.

y/n " you guys did it that amazing"

spider " but you could of shot it down you are good hunter" spider was not wrong your strength could of help you make the hunt, over right there but you didn't.

y/n " I could but I knew you two could do it as well"

lo'ak " thank sis"

y/n " now you two can do the honorary rights of the hunters, now come" lo'ak and spider came with you and had the rights and ways of the clan.

y/n " I'm proud of you both now we have to call and get this home"

spider " thank you"

lo'ak " yes thank you"

y/n " anytime" you had made the call to your dad who came with neteyam and tsu'tey along with your and lo'ak banshees to help bring the hunt back home.

Jake " good hunt my daughter"

y/n " dad yes I fired the first shot but it was lo'ak and spider had brought down the kill"

tsu'tey " they did"

y/n " yes they are good hunters and my future hunts I hope they will come with me and anyone else who wishes to come, as my brother and spider are good hunters"

Jake " you make me proud son"

tsutey " you make me happy and proud spider my son"

lo'ak and spider " thank you"

neteyam " you did a good job today"

y/n " thank you I will do anything for our family"

neteyam " I know you will and that will make you a great leader with me"

y/n " yes but only the future will tell" neteyam had smiled at you, lo'ak and spider did get praise for their hunting skills. It seems like after all you had been able to help lo'ak and spider find some position in the clan after all. You had made a promise to do anything for your family, and make sure they are given all the love and support from the family and clan no matter what happens.

#avatar #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar x y/n #sully family x reader #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #kiri te suli kìreysì'ite #tuktirey te suli neytiri'ite #spider socorro #lo'ak x sister!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader

[xiaoriae]

STONE COLD HEART.

— CONTENT ; alhaitham x gn!reader. modern au, bodyguard au and little angst. reader goes clubbing, alcohol consumption + slightly intoxicated reader, a suggestive comment from alhaitham (barely), profanities and pining. wc; 1.1k

— NOTES ; a repost from my old blog! p/s: please remind me to write this into a full fic later bcs i am definitely normal about bodyguard!alhaitham.

you didn't quite remember how you ended up being pulled away from the club.

in your hazy state, the only thing you remembered was how strict your father was, practically banning you to enjoy the night life for once, but all he said was no and then you sneaked out of your house, aimlessly walking around until you headed to the infamous club nearby.

all you wanted was freedom from this shitty political life you never ever wanted, but by gods, your father was so delusional of your own safety that he hired a bodyguard for you.

it took you a whole solid 45 minutes just to get pass through the security of the whole mansion, but how could you forget that your own personal bodyguard was so efficient in his work? you must have hit your head for thinking that you succeeded in escaping his watch before you arrived at the club and downing mutiple small shots by yourself.

at the end of the day, it was easy for him to track you down.

alhaitham could only gaze at you from the corner, his stare was nothing more than a blank one as he watched you shut off some mere strangers' pitiful attempts at hitting you and your lonely figure by the counter.

you were definitely drunk, he concluded.

the moment you got up to hit the dance floor, alhaitham followed you from behind. his dark outift made everyone almost cowered with fear as he straight walked up to you, who on the other end, didn't even notice the stares everyone was giving.

and here you thought you were smart enough to live by your own when you couldn't even manage to read the room.

he stopped in his track when you turned around, somehow overlooked his broad figure in front of you as you searched for anyone, literally anyone to join you for the dance because as you perceived, where was the fun in dancing alone when you could get a companion?

you were definitely not in your right mind when you pulled alhaitham, pulling super embarassing stunts and then you were out of your trance as you heard an eerily familiar voice coming from above your head.

"having fun yet? or am i tempting enough that you want me?"

you flinched when you noticed it was alhaitham all along, in all his glory when you saw how lifeless his eyes were, and then you glared at him before rudely telling him to fuck off, to be back at his home instead of stalking you like a freak.

"do you really have to go all the way to report me back at your own boss?" you jabbed a finger onto his chest before alhaitham gripped your wrist to stop you, not even seemed to be affected by all your rude commentaries at him.

you knew better than anyone not to make alhaitham angry—after all, he was your personal bodyguard for a reason—but it was infutiating at this point that he was stuck by your side almost everyday for the rest of your life.

he was certainly not a fun person to be with. his loyalty was second to none at your own father. maybe they had history of some sorts during his contract agreement with your father that made him did a really good job in protecting you, but it was a rumour you didn't really find interesting enough.

he was emotionless. never even gave you some slack, and you hated his heartless persona.

"you are lucky that i do not tell my boss yet," he countered.

"fuck you," you spitted, yanking your wrist away before leaving him alone.

the liquid courage definitely got you now, as alhaitham could only observe you from afar. it was his job after all.

you were uncomfortable. knowing his presence was lingering all this time made you felt insecure under his watchful eyes somewhere in the dim glow of the area.

you didn't know what really get into your mind but when you shoved down more of the bitter drink into your throat and shamelessly flirting with this super cute guy behind the bar, you knew your action was ticking him off.

"enough," alhaitham interrupted you from taking in another glass. "you are going to get really sick next morning."

you heart somehow dropped at his last sentence.

"since when do you care about my well-being?" you snickered, feeling slightly horrible that you poured your frustration on alhaitham the moment he let go of your drink. your father was the one who unknowingly turned you into a rebellious kid, and alhaitham was just doing his job.

and then you remembered all those times alhaitham sided with your father. no, he was still a cold person, never even pitying you that you couldn't have enough self-expression in your life.

"before he finds you, you should go home," he indirectly broke your train of thoughts.

"couldn't i... stay here for a while? or go somewhere else? it is suffocating to be trapped," you were hanging to the last thread of hope, but it all snapped when alhaitham looked down at you sitting on the stool, his eyes already gave you the answer.

"no," he pulled you off from the chair, and your own body somehow complied although your mind was telling you to stay.

sure, you were strictly physically attracted at him, but you hated how easy it was for him to drag you out of the club and then got you into the car.

and it was surprisingly easy for him to push you inside and strap in the seatbelt without any interference from you.

you somehow got emotional when you realised how long you had been in the cycle—it was definitely the alcohol content that made you having all these mood swings—and how lonely you were despite having alhaitham being with you for the most part in your adulthood life.

and even if you broke down into tears for having your freedom to be stripped away from you by your own family, alhaitham could only focus on the road ahead although you couldn't contain the small cries.

it was hurting your from within, and it killed you to see that no single trace of emotions evident on alhaitham's face.

it was your fault for pining to someone who was known to have a cold heart, and it was definitely ripping your heart into pieces when the thought that how easy you fell for him won you over.

how easy it was when you did what your father wanted for alhaitham to secure his job. all this time, it was all for him. all for alhaitham's sake.

if only you could crack his heart open. if only.

if only you were brave enough to ask him to care for you, that you craved for his love since you were fifteen.

but alhaitham never saw you beyond that. and you blamed the alcohol in your system that you managed to find yourself under his grasp once again.

all rights reserved © berrywoo 2023 strictly on tumblr only. any form of wrongdoings under the copyright law is strictly prohibited.

#—writings. #favoniuslibrary #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact angst

[genshinology]

STONE COLD HEART. — alhaitham

@/stygianoir said : For your 800 event what about Stone cold heart?

— CONTENT ; alhaitham x gn!reader. modern au, bodyguard au and little angst. reader goes clubbing, alcohol consumption + slightly intoxicated reader, a sugestive comment from alhaitham (barely), profanities and pining. wc; 1.1k

— NOTES ; a part of my 800 followers event (and we're now at 1.7k lmao). breaking my hiatus for a while bcs istg i am almost done with my pre-uni and then will be moving on to my degree life on sep/oct, and the fact that some links are being wonky on my masterlist atm makes me half mad at tumblr :')

you didn't quite remember how you ended up being pulled away from the club.

in your hazy state, the only thing you remembered was how strict your father was, practically banning you to enjoy the night life for once, but all he said was no and then you sneaked out of your house, aimlessly walking around until you headed to the infamous club nearby.

all you wanted was freedom from this shitty political life you never ever wanted, but by gods, your father was so delusional of your own safety that he hired a bodyguard for you.

it took you a whole solid 45 minutes just to get pass through the security of the whole mansion, but how could you forget that your own personal bodyguard was so efficient in his work? you must have hit your head for thinking that you succeeded in escaping his watch before you arrived at the club and downing mutiple small shots by yourself.

at the end of the day, it was easy for him to track you down.

alhaitham could only gaze at you from the corner, his stare was nothing more than a blank one as he watched you shut off some mere strangers' pitiful attempts at hitting you and your lonely figure by the counter.

you were definitely drunk, he concluded.

the moment you got up to hit the dance floor, alhaitham followed you from behind. his dark outift made everyone almost cowered with fear as he straight walked up to you, who on the other end, didn't even notice the stares everyone was giving.

and here you thought you were smart enough to live by your own when you couldn't even manage to read the room.

he stopped in his track when you turned around, somehow overlooked his broad figure in front of you as you searched for anyone, literally anyone to join you for the dance because as you perceived, where was the fun in dancing alone when you could get a companion?

you were definitely not in your right mind when you pulled alhaitham, pulling super embarassing stunts and then you were out of your trance as you heard an eerily familiar voice coming from above your head.

"having fun yet? or am i tempting enough that you want me?"

you flinched when you noticed it was alhaitham all along, in all his glory when you saw how lifeless his eyes were, and then you glared at him before rudely telling him to fuck off, to be back at his home instead of stalking you like a freak.

"do you really have to go all the way to report me back at your own boss?" you jabbed a finger onto his chest before alhaitham gripped your wrist to stop you, not even seemed to be affected by all your rude commentaries at him.

you knew better than anyone not to make alhaitham angry—after all, he was your personal bodyguard for a reason—but it was infrutiating at this point that he was stuck by your side almost everyday for the rest of your life.

he was certainly not a fun person to be with. his loyalty was second to none at your own father. maybe they had history of some sorts during his contract agreement with your father that made him did a really good job in protecting you, but it was a rumour you didn't really find interesting enough.

he was emotionless. never even gave you some slack, and you hated his heartless persona.

"you are lucky that i do not tell my boss yet," he countered.

"fuck you," you spitted, yanking your wrist away before leaving him alone.

the liquid courage definitely got you now, as alhaitham could only observe you from afar. it was his job after all.

you were uncomfortable. knowing his presence was lingering all this time made you felt insecure under his watchful eyes somewhere in the dim glow of the area.

you didn't know what really get into your mind but when you shoved down more of the bitter drink into your throat and shamelessly flirting with this super cute guy behind the bar, you knew your action was ticking him off.

"enough," alhaitham interrupted you from taking in another glass. "you are going to get really sick next morning."

you heart somehow dropped at his last sentence.

"since when do you care about my well-being?" you snickered, feeling slightly horrible that you poured your frustration on alhaitham the moment he let go of your drink. your father was the one who unknowingly turned you into a rebellious kid, and alhaitham was just doing his job.

and then you remembered all those times alhaitham sided with your father. no, he was still a cold person, never even pitying you that you couldn't have enough self-expression in your life.

"before he finds you, you should go home," he indirectly broke your train of thoughts.

"couldn't i... stay here for a while? or go somewhere else? it is suffocating to be trapped," you were hanging to the last thread of hope, but it all snapped when alhaitham looked down at you sitting on the stool, his eyes already gave you the answer.

"no," he pulled you off from the chair, and your own body somehow complied although your mind was telling you to stay.

sure, you were strictly physically attracted at him, but you hated how easy it was for him to drag you out of the club and then got you into the car.

and it was surprisingly easy for him to push you inside and strap in the seatbelt without any interference from you.

you somehow got emotional when you realised how long you had been in the cycle—it was definitely the alcohol content that made you having all these mood swings—and how lonely you were despite having alhaitham being with you for the most part in your adulthood life.

and even if you broke down into tears for having your freedom to be stripped away from you by your own family, alhaitham could only focus on the road ahead although you couldn't contain the small cries.

it was hurting your from within, and it killed you to see that no single trace of emotions evident on alhaitham's face.

it was your fault for pining to someone who was known to have a cold heart, and it was definitely ripping your heart into pieces when the thought that how easy you fell for him won you over.

how easy it was when you did what your father wanted for alhaitham to secure his job. all this time, it was all for him. all for alhaitham's sake.

if only you could crack his heart open. if only.

if only you were brave enough to ask him to care for you, that you craved for his love since you were fifteen.

but alhaitham never saw you beyond that. and you blamed the alcohol in your system that you managed to find yourself under his grasp once again.

all rights reserved © genshinology 2023 strictly on tumblr only. any form of wrongdoings under the copyright law is strictly prohibited.

#☆.works #🍁.800;event #favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #twilighttheatre #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x you #alhaitham angst #al haitham angst #alhaitham imagines #al haitham imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #genshin imagines

[mothmanperson]

Picture Unperfect

cw: gender neutral reader, slightly insecure reader, angst, tiniest bit of fluff, reader doesn’t cry, mean frat dude probably, ooc probably

tw: mocking, being made fun of for appearance

well at least until you have the glow-up everyone else seems to be having, or already had, or never needed.

you were so jealous of those people,

and you genuinely never understood how it even came to, that you befriended them.

that they genuinely want to hang out with you in breaks, write you(by their own will, mind you) regularly or ask if you‘d like to go out with them, to a restaurant, expensive ones, your friends seemed to have that money, or amusement parks, or to one of your places.

you were amazed by the fact they simply didn‘t care. they didn’t care that you looked a mess 80% of the time, they didn’t care that you had emotions, that you were more sad and depress at times. your small friend group didn’t care that your room looked how it looked, overlooking the trash mountain by the side of your bed, which you didn‘t have the energy’s to clean up yet.

you were never conventionally attractive. and you never will be, you made peace with that. it was hard, and it still is. every time you come across a reflective surface and catch a peek of yourself you falter, jump at someone you don’t quite recognize. you know those features, all to well, after spending hour standing in front of a mirror, criticizing every wrong placed cell in your body, but they don’t make sense in the way you want them to. your image in your mind is so much different than whatever it is that owlishly blinks back at you.

but after years of yearning to be normal, to look normal, you‘ve come to an agreement with your body and mind, and now you don’t completely hate how you look anymore. it was nice in a way, but it still wasn’t easy.

you felt like you lost so much in your younger years. something you could never recover or catch up on.

conventionally attractive people have it easy, you always thought. sure they might have problems too, but they didn’t wake up with dread, dressing in the biggest and darkest clothes because nothing else felt right on their dirty skin, you always told yourself, in that close mindedness of yours. and that’s okay, somehow this close mindedness brings comfort, just once you only thought of yourself.

conventionally attractive people didn’t have the problem of seeing their friends get pined after left anf right, didn’t have to give advice to a topic they couldn‘t even imagine, and only dream of.

people tend to say ‚your time will come‘ or ‚you will meet someone when you least expect it‘, well…. now you don’t expect it at all anymore, so where is your soulmate? you angrily thought to yourself as a, now ex friend, told you how hard it was to have three people have a crush on her at the same time, because it was so exhausting trying to be nice to them, even if they annoyed her and she only had eyes for one.

‚just block them‘

you once said to which she simply replied

,i don’t want to be mean‘

you stood up and left then and there. your friendship crumbled like ash after. and you never talked again.

romantic interaction and people telling you they like you, romantically or platonically, wasn’t really a thing for you growing up.

one or two friends stayed with you over the years, but the rest you never saw or even talked to anymore.

you often wonder if they think about you as much as you do about them and the way they openly disrespected you and hurt your feelings and you didn’t even get it.

you never had much reassurance growing up that how you looked didn’t matter, that to some people you looked cool, that they wanted to be friends with you because you looked the way you looked.

and that ruined so much for you, most of which you have yet to heal from, yet you’re trying your best.

and then, after you graduated from secondary school, you went off to a technical college. were you met your new friends.

they were so odd and awkward at the beginning. but so were you. you guessed it was destined you got jumbled together into this mess of a group you call friends.

and things finally started to look up. you laughed and cried, shared secrets and insulted each other, it just fit perfectly.

you were oh so greatful to finally find people that you could start to believe, wanted to be friends with you.

even when you started to doubt and ask, they always reassured you, so lovingly, in a way no one else had, you had no other chance than to believe them.

but you have yet to come over the fact that such, ethereal, pretty and handsome people, wanted to be friends, with you, it sounded absurd and made absolutely no sense to you.

all of them were more than just conventionally attractive, and definitely way above ‚over average‘ and they definitely knew, how could they not?

gojo satoru, a tall, white haired dude with big blue eyes was the heartthrob of the school. wearing sunglasses all the time, his laid back and nonchalant personality made him even more popular with everyone but the teachers.

geto suguru was more toned down, a calm and collected individual, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as much of a menace as satoru. his long hair, done in an attractive loose man-bun most of the time, helped bring across his put together yet relaxed persona. and slightly slanted and ever narrowed eyes that gave him such an alluring look that had everyone swooning in secret.

(he even had tunnels, a feature you shared, which made you even more happy, his were just a bit smaller than yours)

and last but not least, shoko leiri, an ever tired, chain smoking woman. her brown hair suited her well, and while controversial, so did her dark circles, it gave her such character you couldn’t even begin to describe. when you looked at her, everything just clicked into place and made sense. having smoker parents yourself, her scent was comforting, oddly enough, mixed with her cherry scented lipgloss (she sometimes shares it with you).

and then there was you… you knew how you looked like, and that’s the exact reason you avoid looking at yourself in group pictures. it was a sweet gesture of them, of course, and you appreciated not being left out, but you simply couldn’t stand seeing yourself next to them. so out of place, so happy yet, it almost disgusted you, you disgusted yourself for ruining such a pretty photo once again.

‚aww, it looks so cute!‘

you excitedly tell your friends as they show you the picture they took of you all while out eating, skillfully ignoring that nauseatingly familiar face, stuffing itself full with food. they don’t notice how you felt, years of covering your disappointment made that possible.

it’s not like you didn’t want them to see or know, because they did, you just… didn’t know how to stop doing it.

if you knew someone, gojo most of the time, took a picture, you took great care in hiding your face, with your hand or a piece of clothing. but sometimes your weren’t fast enough or didn’t notice gojo was taking a picture in the first place. he loved to take those kinds of pictures. and you let him have his fun, admittedly, some of them were really funny and made you laugh aswell, but you‘d never tell them that… they‘d never let you live it down.

it was only one time this kind of escalated into something ugly…

———————————————————————

„oh my god, i look disgusting in this picture..“

„whaaat? no! you look totally cute“

you shot gojo a glare as you continued to look through the plethora of pictures he had taken, physically sick at the way you looked.

it was already evening and the sun just started to set. you and gojo sat on a bench, waiting for geto and shoko to come back from their smoking break. satoru hated the smell and you didn’t smoke anymore so you two always did something else while they killed their lungs.

and today satoru felt like taking pictures, stupid ones that looked ugly no matter how you looked at it, but also some really pretty ones if it wasn’t for you and your little imperfections that only seemed visible to you.

„i’m going to delete them..“

you said, after a lengthy pause and instantly were tackled. gojo put his whole body weight on top of you and reached for his phone, eyes wide and panicked.

„NO YOU‘RE NOT- THOSE PICTURES ARE AMAZING-„

he yelled, or more like whined as he struggled to get ahold of his phone, you kept far away from him. you tried to push him off but to no avail, so you wriggled your way out from beneath him and took some steps back as a precaution.

„nooo- i look awful in these, i’m not gonna let you keep those-..“

you groaned, sidestepping your friends attempt at catching you.

„oh come on, why not? it’s not like anyone is gonna see..“

he tried convincing, stalking closer, eyeing his expensive phone, gripping tightly in your hand.

you faltered a bit, your arm lowering slightly, easily convinced.

„alright, okay“

you sighed out

„but you’re not gonna show anyone else alright? you can send them into the group chat but no showing around..“

you handed him back his phone and he sighed in relief, checking his phone for damage that wasn’t there.

always so quick to exaggerate.

you really hope you could rely on the small chance no one would see.

but alas, you hoped to soon..

days later, in the big break, you sat with suguru, shoko and gojo at a small table at the back of the cafeteria, where you always sat. there was more space for others to sit at but most f the time it was just the four of you.

not today though, some people you didn’t know, but gojo apparently did sat with you for some stupid reason, talking his ear off and taking all his attention.

to say it was awkward would be an understatement. you geto and shoko weren’t quite as extroverted as gojo was, so you didn’t talk, which you were totally okay with, but there were strangers at the table that stared, and talked about topics you didn’t know about. they were loud and unruly, disrespectful and you you could see satoru cringe here and there at something one of the guys said, his phone screen side up layed in front of him, as he played with it impatiently, hoping the guys he knew but really didn’t know would finally leave.

it all happened in a matter of seconds, and gojo received a message, his screen lighting up, showing a dimly lit photo.

it was one from a few days ago, on the bench.

someone stupid and ugly looking sitting right next to him, as if they were on the same level. they shouldn’t even be near him.

thoughts started to crowd their mind, progressively getting worse and worse but you said nothing.

„who is that person with you on that photo?“

one of the guys asked, his voice sounding odd, almost degrading even if he hadn’t said anything bad. you snapped out of your mind, and your eyebrows furrowed. now you felt ashamed.

you could just hope gojo wouldn’t say it wad you, to spare you the embarrassment of being perceived.

„is that your partner?“

another voice called out, less condescending and more curiously before a third voice joined in, grating and mocking tone of voice. it hurt your ears.

„really? you could do better than that, satoru, they look so weird, you can even see their double chin“

the voice laughed, and so did the other’s. all the while your friends already small smile slipped from his face, as now a borderline annoyed expression took it‘s place.

„and such unclear skin“

„and their weight?“

„they look stupid“

„ugly“

„unlovable“

you weren’t quite sure anymore which words your mind made up and which ones were truly spoken, but it mattered little. if you could, you would just love to sink into the ground and never face earth an it’s opponents ever again.

„it doesn’t matter does it?!“

gojo’s uncharacteristically angry voice interrupts, and you were happy it was quiet again.

„how they look doesn’t fucking matter does it? their personality is awesome, unlike yours and they look stunning something you could never achieve, so fuck off..“

it was unusual for gojo to slip out of his happy-go-lucky persona, but this was his friend we‘re talking about, he never held back when it came to his friends.

you didn’t listen what happened after that, leaning onto geto’s shoulder and indulged yourself in your phone, a nice distraction from this escapade.

you knew it didn’t matter, those guys… didn’t matter, but that didn’t make it hurt less. emotions from still open wounds trickled out like cold blood. you took a deep breath as the table got silent again. no one talked. but it wasn’t awkward.

there was just a bitter solemn tension in the air.

you were a bit more reserved after that, quiet and less engaging in silly conversations, and your friends knew to give you a bit of time, they didn’t pity you and kept treating you normally.

but they were a bit more affectionate, especially geto.

gojo kept his distance knowing he was part of the cause, and also because he didn’t know if or how he could apologize.

shoko gave you her silent support, a stable individual you could rely on. and you loved her for that.

it was alright though, you‘ll come around eventually, you always did…

#someone help #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu shoko #gender neutral #x gender neutral reader #jjk angst #college au #insecure reader #gn reader #platonic gn reader #platonic #self indulgent #dont mind me #ooc #probably #it’s 3:30 am #i did not want to dtay up this long #reader #x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[broskiblurbs]

Our Envious Forthcomings (A Peter Parker FanFiction)

Word Count: 4,370

Summary: You grew up in your father's spotlight, while Peter grew up in poverty. You had loads of friends, while Peter was a nobody. Seems as if things were handed to you, while he had to beg for them. These differences made Peter bitter towards you, but maybe you aren't so different after all.

Disclaimer: Mild cussing. In this universe, the Blip never happened.

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There wasn't many things Peter Parker disliked, only three things that he could come up with. Overall, he is an easy-going person, and someone who loves the simplicity of life. He is a nerd who loves Star Wars and LEGOs. He is a nobody in the background with only two friends: Ned and Michelle Jones. He is a clamming boy who didn’t have much luck when it came to dating and girls. On top of all of that, he is a friendly-neighborhood hero who helps old Dominican women cross the street. He is a spider that stopped alien-tech trades and saved Stark Industries. He is an Avenger that helped save the universe from Thanos. He is Spider-Man, a guy who is constantly overlooked, yet praised at the same time. Even though Peter was not as popular as his alter-ego, he was perfectly happy with his life.

One thing Peter didn’t like was parties. They were always way too loud and overcrowded. It messed with his heightened senses, which ensured a pounding headache once he got home. The only reason he is even at this party is because Ned dragged him and MJ here after they got invited by Betty Brant, who was one of the most popular girls in school. How a nobody like Ned Leeds got a pretty girl like Betty Brant was beyond  Peter’s mind, but he was happy for his love-sick friend. As soon as the trio walked through the giant doors of the party, Ned abandoned them to find his girl, leaving Peter and MJ to fend for themselves, which eventually leads to Flash bumping into Peter.

Another thing Peter disliked was Eugene “Flash” Thompson. He hated how he walked around like the world owed him something. He hated how he bullied others to make himself feel better. Peter was one of Flash’s relentless victims. He was the reason why he got the nickname “Penis Parker” in their sophomore year of high school. He has thought about using Spider-Man to finally shut-up, but he dismissed the idea for he had promised to never use his alter-ego in such a way. Besides, he didn’t want to stoop to Flash’s level, no matter how tempting it was. It was enough of a victory to know Peter could punch him in the face and stop it all. It’s all about the small victories, right?

“Watch where you are going, Penis Parker,” the ignorant bully called out while spilling his drink, which was probably spiked, all over Peter’s favorite blue sweater. The boy was about to shoot a spiteful response to Flash until you interrupted.

“Stop, Flash. It isn’t worth it.” You give Peter a pitiful smile and drag your friend along.

The third and final thing he disliked was you. You were always at Flash’s side, watching him bully others. You were known to the school as Flash’s hot and “chill” friend, though Peter wouldn’t use those words to describe you. However, that was not the worst thing. He felt that life has handed you everything just because your dad was rich and famous. He envied how he had to work for his good grades, money, and the small amount of friends he did have, while you shared DNA with a man and got filthy rich, got to ease through school, and friends practically flocked to you. You had it easy, and you took it for granted. He watched you dance so freely on the dance floor as if no one was watching, but if he did it, he would be made fun of, right? The world had its favorites and you were one of them, and he hated you for it. Nothing could change how he felt.

Peter was having a good day, a great one even. He had almost made it through his first week of senior year, which meant he was that much closer to graduating. They had pizza for lunch and it didn’t taste like garbage for once. Aunt May was able to get the red stain out of his favorite blue sweater that Flash had so nicely placed on it. Some girl complimented his Vans, and later on tonight, he was going to Ned’s to try to rebuild the LEGO Death Star for the third time. So yeah, Peter having a great day. He was practically skipping to Ned’s locker to go to American History.

“I’m pretty sure today she’s going to assign us partners for that stupid project today,” Ned announced as he slammed the locker shut and the boys made their way to the class.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Isn’t semester long?” Peter asked.

“I think so. All I know is that I hope I get paired with you or Betty.” Peter sends a glare at his friend. “No, you! Bros before hoes. Guy in the chair,” Ned saved. Peter laughed as they headed into the classroom. The friends took their seats in the corner of the room as the teacher began her lesson about the Founding Fathers.

Peter was forcing his eyes to stay open. Sure, he was one of the smartest in his grade, but history absolutely bored him. The fact the lesson was on the Founding Fathers didn’t make things any better. He didn’t understand why we praised men who were just a bunch of hypocrites. The teacher never kept Peter’s attention during the lecture, not until she announced she will start pairing students up for the project. The project was super broad, which made him happy. He could do whatever he wanted as long as it showed how it improved the U.S. as a whole. Ideas were rushing to his head. Cars? The improvement of technology? The Avengers even? The possibilities were endless.

“Mr. Leeds and Mr. Thompson,” she paired. Peter looked over Ned, who looked horrified. Flash looked disgusted. Since he was obviously not going to be paired with his best friend, he was scared to hear who his partner was going to be. The teacher flew through some more names. 

“Mr. Parker.” Peter’s eyes widen at the recognition of his own name. His fingers were trembling, anticipating hearing the name he would be spending the rest of the semester with. “You’ll be with Miss. Y/L/N”

Of fucking course. 

Peter buries his face into his hands. Out of everyone he could paired with, he had to be paired with you. He could hear murmurs of his peers saying stuff like, “Lucky,” “Not fair,” “That dork with her?” It’s not like he wanted to be paired with your ungrateful ass. He snuck a look your way. You looked uncomfortable? Of course you wouldn’t want to be paired with him. In your eyes, he’s probably just a slimy little nerd who should kneel before you. He vowed at that moment to never give you that satisfaction. He was probably going to have to do the majority of the project anyway. A selfish brat like yourself will think you’re above some silly school assignment. When the bell rang, Peter bolted out of the classroom as fast as he could with his friend.

“Dude,” the friends say in unison once they reach Peter’s locker.

“This is bad,” Peter says, opening up his locker.

“You’re telling me? I have to work with Flash. Time to plan my funeral,” Ned agrees.

“I have to work with Y/N. Out of everyone,” Peter groaned.

“That’s not even bad. I honestly do not get why you do not like her. She has always been nice to me. She’s very supportive of me and Betty.” Peter rolled his eyes as if his best friend betrayed him. In a way he did. He was fraternizing with the enemy. Of course he didn’t understand. “Anyway, dude, I gotta go. See you at my house tonight.” Ned begins to leave, but not without doing the handshake.

As Peter replaces the books from American History with the ones for his next class, he hears you and Flash talking.

“Why don’t you ask the teacher to switch? She would probably listen to you. Your dad is literally famous,” the annoying bully stated.

“No, Flash. Drop it,” you reply. Honestly, Peter wishes you would. That would solve both of his and Ned’s problems.

“You really want to work with that dork instead of me?” Flash pushed.

“I am not going to use my social status to my advantage,” you responded.

“But come on, it’s Penis Parker,”

“Peter Parker,” you almost yelled. “His name is Peter Parker and I’m leaving this conversation.” You walked away, practically whipping your hair in Flash’s face. Peter shoved his head back into his locker. He was surprised you actually corrected your friend. No one had ever done that, but that doesn’t matter. It didn’t make him dislike you any less and nothing would. He hears a knock outside the locker. He closes his locker, deeming he was done with it anyway. He was shocked to meet your eyes so close to his.

“What do you want?’ He asked a lot more bitterly than he planned. You take a step back.

“Well, hello to you too, Parker,” you greeted.

“I have to get to class,”  He avoids your gaze and goes around you to go to his class. You catch up with him.

“Fantastic that we have the same class next, huh?” God, he just wanted you to leave him alone. 

“Yay,” he says sarcastically. 

“Anyway, I think we should get a head start on this project-” you start but Peter interrupts you.

“I’ll just do it.”

“What?’ He hated the dumbfounded look on your face.

“That’s what you were going to say, right?”

“No, not at all. I would never. I was just going to say, we should get a head start on the project, since we are both busy people. With me and my, well you know, my parents and you with your Stark Internship-” Peter interrupts you again.

“Ah, I get it now.” Peter stops right outside of the classroom. “Y/N, I was having a really good day today and now it kind of sucks. I really don’t want to spend half of my senior year with you, so we will split up the work in class and work on our part in our spare time. Great talk.” He goes into the classroom and takes a seat before you could even respond.

He shouldn’t be surprised at the fact you were only being nice to him for your own gain. As soon as you mentioned the Stark Internship, he knew. All you wanted was to meet Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers and woo them over. He wasn’t having it. The Avengers was his thing, not yours.

“Why were you talking to Y/N? I thought you hated her,” MJ said as Peter sat down next to her.

“We got paired up for an American History project,” he responded. His eyes follow you as you walk through the classroom and take the available seat next to him. Peter rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t you take the hint? MJ looked over at her friend confused. “Why are you sitting next to me? Don’t you have your little clique over there?” He points to the group of people staring at you dumbfounded. 

“Because we need to get this project done, and I’m not going to let your stupid opinion about me prevent me from getting an A, so I’m not going to leave you alone until we come up with an actual game plan,” you reply with determination. 

“Stupid opinion,” Peter chuckled. The only stupid thing about this is that he had to work with someone as ignorant as you. Then, the English teacher interrupted their conversation and began class. 

The entire class period you tried getting Peter’s attention which only annoyed him more. It took everything in him to not yell at you. You had to know you were bothering him. He was starting to think you were enjoying this. His jaw clenched anytime you said his name. Even when you weren’t trying to get his attention, you agitated him. You occasionally clicked your pen one too many times and bounced your leg. By the end of class he was over it. Luckily this was his last class of the day, so he tried to run out of there as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, you’re fast too and caught up to him. This was his breaking point.

“Can you just leave me alone? You’re driving me crazy,” Peter hissed.

“Good! All I want to do is get this project done, but you’re the one being stubborn!” you argued.

“Why are you so worried about it? We were just assigned today.” Peter is at his locker now, getting his backpack together.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I barely have time for school as it is and my schedule is super unpredictable, so the sooner the better,” you answer.

“Believe or not, I haven’t noticed anything because not everything is about you. I don’t give a shit your dad is this big thing in Hollywood or whatever,” he said, slamming his locker door shut. You take a deep breath as you compose yourself.

“Can we please just get this project done and then, I will be out of your life,” you beg. Peter dreaded the idea of seeing you more than he had to, but for once, you had a point. The sooner the project was over with, the sooner you would leave him alone. You took his silence as an answer. “Are you doing anything now? We can head to the library, or if your place makes you more comfortable?” Before Peter could answer, Ned showed up.

“Hey, man! I was wondering what time you were coming over? Lola wanted to know what time she should start dinner.” Then, he notices you standing next to Peter. “Sup, Y/N?” You shoot him a huge grin.

“Just trying to get Peter to work on this project with me. How are things with Betty? She cannot stop gushing over you,” you ask Ned, still smiling brightly at him.

“Great! We are going to the movies here soon,” he responded.

Peter chimes in before you can steal his best friend away from him, “Anyway, I’m not sure. Something tells me my evening is about to be planned for me. I’ll text you.” Once Ned walks away to find his girlfriend, you and Peter continue your reluctant conversation.

“Do we really have to start tonight?” asked Peter. He believed he had enough of you for today.

“Yes,” you say, no longer giving him the choice. He groaned in defeat. It’s just one night.

“My aunt is out of town, so I’m staying at the tower. This is only a one time thing.” He could not believe he was actually going to be spending time with you. Why couldn’t you just ask the teacher to switch partners? The both of you would have been so much happier if you would have asked to be partners with Flash. Speaking of the devil himself, Flash comes to pull you away from Peter.

“Are you ready to leave?” Flash asked, ignoring Peter’s presence.

“Actually, I’m going with Peter so we can start on that project,” you reply, which receives a scoff from your companion.

“Really, you’re going with that loser? Come on, dude. We have an entire semester to finish that project,” he says. 

Finally, someone that gets it, he thought. He didn’t realize he was thinking out loud until you glared at him. 

“Goodbye, Flash.” You seemed as annoyed with him as you were with Peter. The bully got in Peter’s face to say, “You better not try anything, Penis Parker.” As if. Peter wishes you would just leave with Flash. 

This morning, Peter would have never guessed his school day would have ended with him and you walking to the Avenger’s tower. How could a day that was going so great end so terribly? You had to put on a ball cap and sunglasses before you could step outside of the school. You insisted if you didn't, the paparazzi would be all over. You really thought highly of yourself, didn’t you? He wondered how you could fit all that ego in one body. The entire walk to the tower was filled with awkward silence and you trying to hide from the public.

As soon as you reached the building and went inside, you took off your “disguise.” Did you really think that worked?

“Wow, this is amazing. I’ve never had the chance to be inside the Avengers Tower,” you said in the most annoying voice ever which made Peter roll his eyes. He scanned his badge as he reached the elevator. 

“Welcome, Peter. Mr. Stark is awaiting your arrival on the fourteenth floor in the community area,”  the AI, FRIDAY, informed. He hit the button for the floor where Mr. Stark was waiting. You stared in awe of the AI.

“Thanks, FRIDAY. Can you let him know I have, uh, someone with me?”

“He was already made aware,” she answered. 

“Woah,” you whispered. “This is…wow.”

“Can you not do that? It’s annoying,” Peter scoffed.

“Sorry,” you respond, anxiously.

The elevator’s doors open to reveal the billionaire fidgeting with his fingers and a pen over a counter.

“What’s up, chico,” he greets Peter, and then, he notices you. “And chica.”  Tony raises his eyebrows in shock. “Wow, Peter. I was beginning to wonder if you had any skills when it came to girls.” He could slap his mentor.

“It-it’s definitely not like that. We just have a project,” he corrected.

Tony just ignores what he said and says, “Hi, I’m Tony Stark, but you probably know that. I’m sure Peter talks about me all the time.” He walks up to you and aggressively shakes your hand which makes your cheeks turn red. “Wait, aren’t you Y/N L/N? How in the hell did Peter get your attention?” he questioned, jokily. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groans.

“Uh, yes, and Peter and I are just partners for a project. He made it clear he has no interest in spending more than a minute with me than he needs to,” you grit in between your teeth. For the first time since the two of you got assigned to the assignment, he could feel your hate for him. Tony turns to look at the young teen boy.

“Yesh, this is why you don’t have a girlfriend. You kids have fun,” the billionaire walks away.

About five minutes later, Peter finds himself in the lab with you beginning the project. He decided he wanted to work where he felt most at ease, and that was here. He has so many fond memories working on his suit in the lab with Tony, so of course this was his ideal place. You had already set up shop at an empty table.

“Alright, what do you want this project to be about?” you ask him as you pull up a document on your laptop.

“I was thinking about the advancement of technology,” he answered, making you chuckle. He glares at you.

“You realize that will be everyone’s project, right? We should do something unique,” you exclaim.

“Alright, what were you thinking, then,” he said in a mockery tone.

“I think music could be fun! Who doesn’t like music?” A smile forms on your face at the thought of music.

“Of course you would say that,” Peter groans. Your smile fell and you wrapped your arms around yourself as if you were comforting yourself. Peter is pulling out his own laptop when you speak up.

“What is your problem?” Your voice is no louder than a whisper. “I’ve done nothing, but been nice to you. Did I do something?”

“Nice? You’ve been nice to me? You have let Flash walk all over me and Ned. You act like all anyone cares about is you just because your dad is some all-time celebrity. Guess what, princess? No one gives a crap,” he argues. Your face scrunchies up in anger.

“You-you don’t know anything about me, Parker! I have stood up for you on countless occasions-” Tears are forming in your eyes, since you don’t know how to express your emotions properly, but before you can continue Peter cuts you off.

“Giving me a pity smile doesn’t count as standing up for me,” he snarls.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, Parker,” you yell. “You are a hypocrite. To think that Betty told me you were the nicest and most understanding person she knew. You are no better than Flash, hell, maybe even worse.”

Sure, Peter strongly disliked you, but something about you comparing him to Flash made his heart sink. He had always thought of himself better than a bully, but here he was bullying you. Perhaps, he was judging you too quickly. He knew his aunt raised him better than that. Peter readjusted his position and started to apologize when he tripped into something, causing a bright blue light to flood the room. A loud buzzing sound echoed in the lab. 

“What the hell is that?” you hollered over the noise. Then, the light had absorbed you, and you were gone.

“Fuck,” Peter mumbled to himself. Even though he did not like you, he knew he would not be able to live with himself if he abandoned you. He went into the light, and just like you, he was gone.

A buzzing noise rang through Peter’s ears as he opened his eyes to a brightly lit room. He was in the lab, of course. Where else would he be? It’s not like he went wandering off. 

“Y/N?” He calls out as he frantically looks around the room, noticing some minor changes.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you answer as you rub the back of your head. You must’ve hit it. “What happened? Where is all of our stuff?” The tables that previously sat all of your and Peter’s belongings were now empty and now replaced with small gadgets. “What did you do?” You glare at Peter.

“What did I do? I didn’t do anything!” He almost yelled.

“Ugh, if you would’ve just shut up and helped me with the project, this would have never happened,” you match his tone.

“Of course you blame me because daddy’s little princess doesn’t do anything wrong.” This changes your expression. Tears start falling out of your eyes. Peter knew he went too far. 

He looks over to the monitor. Turns out when Peter tripped, he accidentally set off the Teleporter Machine. It was just a prototype, so it only took the two of you to the next lab over. “I found out what happened. Our stuff is in the other room. Let’s just try to find Mr. Stark,” he tries, but you don’t move.

“I thought out of everyone, you would understand, but I was wrong,” you whisper.

“What?” You ignore him.

“You know, I always envied you.”

“What?” He repeats.

“You get a mask. You get to hide from the spotlight. Pretend you’re a nobody. I don’t get that, Peter!” You exclaim. Peter can feel heat rising in his chest, his hands are getting clammy, and his armpits are starting to sweat as anxiety overcomes him. Do you know?

“I know who you are, Parker. You don’t do a job hiding it. I’m surprised the Daily Bugle hasn’t caught on.”

“You know?” Peter’s heart skips a beat.

“I’ve been observing you since freshman year. Even then, I wished I was you. A nobody. Someone who didn’t care when they were made fun of. So, naturally I was intrigued. I watched you doodle in class and somehow get every question right. I wanted to talk to you, but then you wouldn’t be a nobody anymore. I didn’t want you to get swallowed up by the spotlight. I didn’t want to take that away from you. When sophomore year rolled around, sightings of a mysterious hero called Spider-Man started popping up. That’s when you started acting strange. The whole thing in D.C just confirmed my wildest thoughts,” you finish. You wipe away the last of the tears. “But, you know what they say. Never meet your heroes. I’m going to ask to switch partners. Sorry.” You begin to leave, but Peter stops you.

“Y/N, I don’t even know what to say,” Peter tries. He feels so guilty. It shouldn’t have taken you pouring out your gut for him to realize how much of an ass he was being.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You awkwardly stand there, waiting for him to let you by.

“No, I do. You were right. I’m being a hypocrite. You have been nothing but nice to me and I immediately thought you were the worst human being ever. It wasn’t even because of Flash. I guess, I also was jealous of you,” he admitted. Your eyes were now on him. “I mean, I always wanted to know what it was like to be popular or what it was like to have endless amounts of money. You are everything I wish I was. I wish I still had my dad around to explain complicated formulas or buy me LEGO sets. I wish I wasn’t a nobody who constantly gets made fun of. If it wasn’t for Spider-Man, I would have nothing. I would have never mattered to anyone.” It was Peter’s turn to cry. He was expecting you to laugh at him or just leave him there, but you didn’t. You did something unexpected.

You hugged him.

You gently caress his back as his tears soaked your shirt. “You matter. So much. You have Ned and MJ, who would never hurt you. Not to mention, you’re a freaking genius. You’ll probably be the one who cures cancer.” Peter manages a light chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m terrible at cheering people up.”

Peter lifts his head from your shoulder. “I don’t know, I think you did a heck of a job.” You beam a smile at him. “I’m sorry for judging you so quickly. Do you think we could still be partners?”

“I think we could make something work.”

part 2 here

#fanfic #peter parker #my writing #peter parker x reader #fiction #marvel #celebrities #spiderman #newyork #reader #enemies to friends trope

[femdomliterature]

FemLit 0600 - Getting into a Female Led Relationship is more difficult than it sounds

Credit: https://sanaslave.tumblr.com/ It is because people enter into it with the expectation of a high. They are all fascinated by the fun stuff they will do. Locking his dick, giving her massages, feet worship, the man doing all household chores and laundry, ruined orgasms, humiliation and this list is endless.

But once they enter into it, the couple realizes that it is not as fascinating and easy going as it sounded. The woman might not feel dominant enough or the man might not feel submissive enough. Today I am going to talk about one of the challenges that the couple faces in an FLR, which is “Training your man”.

At first, I thought it is going to be easy, since he had expressed that he wants to be submissive to me and follow my lead. I imagined that I would give him orders and he will simply obey them. I would tell him to change his habits that I hated and he will gladly agree. Afterall, this is how they showed it in the captions and erotica, right?

Well, I was very wrong. Very very wrong.

I overlooked the fact that we both are humans and we need logic and time to change ourselves. I cannot expect him to change just because he has expressed his submissive desires. We even had discussions where he raised his points and tried to convince me why his habits were correct and did not need to be changed. There was a lot of to and fro. I told him that there is nothing wrong with how he does things, its just that I want them to be done in a certain way. As simple as that! As a submissive, my happiness should exceed his comfort zone. For example, he liked to keep his laptop, chargers and headsets near our bed so that these gadgets are easily accessible whereas I liked the gadgets at their proper place. If needed, he can fetch those gadgets, use them and then again keep them at their place. He gave me arguments that it is more comfortable and easier if the things are in an “arm’s reach” but I would prefer cleanliness and tidiness to comfort.

I also read articles about “How to train your slave” and guess what I found – Edge him, ruin his orgasm, lock his dick, prostate milking, spank him, etc. After seeing these articles, I was like – How is this even training? I want my slave to be a better submissive for me and this is what is being suggested? These articles were surely written by a man!

Well, here I am giving a list of things you can do to “Train your man to be a better slave” –

Manners and habits – Teach him the manners and habits that you expect from him and dont compromise. Men do have certain habits that differ from us women. For example, they tend to keep the wet towel on the bed after bathing.  Men tend to keep the “gym shoes” outside the shoe rack so that they are easily accessible. Men might not leave the kitchen tidy after cooking or they might procrastinate your orders till the very end.

You need to let your man know your expectations very clearly and then point out whenever he fails to meet them. This requires patience. You might, at times, feel that it is useless to try to teach him because he never listens. But if he’s a good submissive, deep inside he wants to be the perfect slave and will appreciate your efforts for training him.

Service – Your man is your butler/servsnt/maid in a Female Led Relationship. Get him to do things that make your life easier. A dominaht woman should not "have" to do anything she doesnt want to. For example, I had to go to a friend’s home for party and sleepover. I had my slave help me with almost everything. I told him to take out my suitcase from the storage. Clean it. Iron my clothes. I tried my clothes after ironing so he had to fold them again and kept them in the suitcase. I told him to clean my heels. Paint my nails. Charge my phone and so on.

The point is to delegate whatever you can. In the begining allow him very little free time. You want every waking minute concentrating on you, your needs etc. In time you can allow him more. Youll find by then he'd rather forgoe any "me time". At first, his service might not be satisfactory. Just make sure to give feedback and continue improving his service and skills. Soon enough, you will realize that his presence is imperative for your comfort. You would need your butler for everything and you will realize how much he is actually making your life easier. I struggled with guilt in the beginnig. Belive me that fades fast. Reassure yourself he craves service and maje the most of it.

Praise him – Praising him boosts his confidence and motivates him to continue making efforts for you. He knows when he has been a good slave but getting this recognition from you will boost his morale.

Demonstrate – You might need to demonstrate certain things while training him. You might need to show him how you prefer certain things to be done and the quality of work you are expecting from him. For example, you might have a preference for how sheets should be done while making the bed, or you might like the kitchen crockery to be organized in a certain manner.

Whatever it is, do not assume that he knows what to do when you are ordering him. Also, tell him that he should come and ask you if he has any confusion regarding the stuff to avoid duplication of efforts.

Practice – Practice makes a (submissive) man perfect. Do not forget that your slave is a human. He would need time to be good at things, especially if they are women-specific. We women have been painting our nails since our childhood but who would have imagined that my slave would take almost a month to become good at polishing my nails?

He did ruin it many times. I had to be patient. Nails that could have been done in 10 minutes took 20-25 minutes, that too with the finishing that did not meet my expectations. Sometimes I had to make the corrections myself later on. Fast forward 5 months, I went to a salon to get my eyebrows done and the woman doing my eyebrows said “Mam, your nails are looking beautiful, did you get them done at our salon?” I couldn’t have been more proud of my slave. (and myself)

Practice is the key.

Specifics – The details that he notices might not be the details that I notice. He might be feeling proud that he has done a fabulous job but I might spot something that would make his efforts seem incomplete. For example, if he’s dusting the dressing table but not keeping my stuff back the way it was, I might not even recognize his efforts because for me the task has not been completely done. It is incomplete.

Or, if he cleans my shoes but does keep the duster back at it’s place, the service is incomplete.

I had to tell him the specifics that I notice. I had to teach him to look at the things from my perspective. This is something that will continue forever because I am also a human and I will change as well. But I make sure that I am communicating properly and he is aware about how to make me happy.

Sexual training – Every woman is different and her sexual preferences are different. If you will not communicate what you want, you might not get what you want. Train him sexually. Tell him the speed you like, the angle you like, the thrusts you like. Teach him how you like oral sex to be. You can even implement certain gestures like, if his head is between your legs and you squeeze his head, it means he needs to slow down.

Sexual communication might seem unimportant but it dramatically helps to improve the sex life.

Bait – Now comes the last point. Bait him. Use your femininity to control him. Practice to use your womanhood to your advantage. He is not just a slave to your Dominance, he is a slave to your looks, your dirty talks and your body. Tease and deny him to keep him emotionally charged up. Control his orgasms and use his fantasies to get him to do what you want. This is one of the most important tools along with emasulation.

Emasculation. - with teasing/orgasm denial this is an amazing tool to train a man. When he feels less "manly" he becomes more pliable to your dominance. It strips his mske ego away. Some think this means feminization but thsts not it. Its stripping him of the patriarchy and replacing with matriarchy. Think of dates. A man takes a woman out. Pays ect. But when we go out. I take him. I pay, even though it may be from his wages. But the money is all mine anyway.

I take my man out for a dinner date. When the waiter comes to take your order, I choose what he will be having, what he will be drinking and I give all the orders to the waiter. I don’t let him speak.

(I am not a fan of promoting kinks for maintaining your Dominion. A true submissive man should be a slave to you even in the absence of kinks but kinks can boost his morale.)

Well, I believe you would have got an idea about how to train your man. It is far more than you would expect. It might seem tedious. Just keep your communication clear.

In the end, I promise it will prove to be worth it.

#female led relationship #femlit

[poindexters-labratory]

Uhhhm, vent, I guess? I'm just trying to put my feelings into words because it bridges that gap between my thoughts and verbalizing.

Um, there's a bit of a breakdown, and I start talking to myself. Also, talking about emotional trauma. I just kinda wanted to get out somewhere. Sorry to use a public platform, but I don't really have a safe person to rely on.

I'm a very slow thinker. I always have been. I'm not witty or able to absorb information very quickly. I can pretend like I do, and it seems like I do, but my mannerisms and patterns of speech are a result of me desperately trying to keep up. Trying to keep my head above water.

My processing speed has always made me vulnerable. I can't keep up fast enough in open conversation when it comes to groups of people. On top of that, I have mild deafness in an ear on top of autism and ADHD, which makes audio processing extremely difficult. Over time, I've learned to become agreeable, easy to manage, and quiet.

But that life gets lonely. Listening in on conversations you'd like to be a part of, being the last one included, the last one invited, the last one considered, the first one abandoned. I wouldn't say that the experience has made me bitter or cold, but I do have some level of expected disappointment. And I get stressed when there's no attention put on me.

I've always been the kid who has been overlooked in class or at home. My family hardly knows what I want for my birthday, I don't have close friends, even when I like to say that everyone I talk with is my friend, I don't have a best friend. Everyone deserves to have a best friend, right?

It sucks to feel like I should apologize for being sensitive, for being quiet, for being naive, but I am. I feel like I'm no fun as a person. I'm literal, and we're living in an age where all our insecurities are hidden behind a layer of sarcasm and jokes that I just can't seem to wrap my head around. I'm easily scared by the jokes people say.

Not to mention traumatized from a life in an emotionally unstable environment. Terrified that if I made the tiniest mistake, the people around me would blow up in my face.

I weep for the child who learned how to open his school binder silently in class or hide in his room to avoid the potential of screaming downstairs.

The child who hid his entire personality for years to avoid conflict.

The child whose lost friend after friend, in every single location he's been to and left.

And I'm enraged. I had no other choice. And I'm scared. All my life, I've taught myself that if I just shut up, then no one will ever hurt me. If I just shut up, then I'll be safe from everyone.

"I'm too stupid for conversation anyway, I'm too slow to be a part of a group, to have a seat at the table, and I will finally be safe because the only things anyone has ever been interested in are shoving things that in the way and stepping on things that are too small."

That is a horrible thing for a child to convince himself of.

All of this is probably why I have NPD (narcissistic personality disorder). I convince myself on especially bad days that I'm obviously just better even though I consciously know it not to be true, and everyone is jealous, and that's why no one is talking to you. I have this deep desire to be admired in impossible ways, and I struggle immensely when I have absolutely no attention.

I need people to love me. I shouldn't give a reason because if I was loved and given attention properly, then we would be here.

"Am I really that awful? I can't possibly be. I'm positively normal and well-mannered and polite. I'm almost too nice. Sickeningly sweet. If people see how good I can be, then there's no reason why they wouldn't want to be my friend, right?

But I don't want to be too overbearing. I don't want to be too chatty. People hate people who talk too much. Especially when they talk about the same thing for hours. Especially when they can't take the joke. Don't be so serious, don't be so concerned, just fade into the background, and be as unremarkable as possible.

But I'd like to be noticed. I want that attention. I want the attention for saying something, doing something. Make the conversation about me, talk to me. Please talk to me, don't you see me? Don't you know how cool and remarkable I am, I can do all these amazing things, and I know all this information. Won't you like me?"

I also expect people to read my mind because that's what I do for them. I wait and pray that someone will notice the person sitting in the corner by himself. It hasn't quite worked yet.

So, now I imagine myself sitting in a field surrounded by people rushing around me. And I'm waiting. I've been sitting in this field for a while, envious of the people who walk by with someone in tow. I would like to be someone's someone.

It would be a lie if I said I didn't think about it often. I'm not interested in romance, I just want someone to be silly with, who I'm safe with, who likes to fool around sometimes, who's just there with me. Hell, it doesn't have to be one person. I just love people. An extrovert who's all alone is so depressingly ironic.

I don't have the answers or the steps to find the answer, but I know that it will unfortunately take time. Life will continue, and I will continue it by myself until I fortunately don't have to anymore. Until I won't be alone anymore. I feel like it will take as much time as it needs to.

#vent post

[tateisntcute]

Jegulus - an Unserious Critical Analysis

My two cents on the Jegulus ship. Dead dove, do not eat, shippers.

In my opinion, Jegulus (the James Potter/Regulus Black ship) is the culmination of about two decades of the general fandom practice of ignoring all other characters in favor of shipping two white men. This isn't a new phenomenon, we've seen it in every fandom since the beginning of time (time started when fanfiction was invented, right?).

On its own, there's nothing wrong with crackshipping. It's someone looking at two characters that don't interact or barely interact in canon and thinking, "Hey, wouldn't it be crazy if they smooched?" And that's not inherently (sorry in advance for using this word) problematic. It's just for fun!

But then a trend starts. You start to notice that all these ships are between men, and almost always cishet white men. And again, not inherently an issue, but it's weird that that's the overwhelming majority of crackships and even regular ships, right? Anyone who has taken a look at the AO3 yearly statistics knows what I mean. Most ships in most fandoms are between two white men who are canonically cishet. Less ships are m/f, fewer are f/f, and most of the POC in these ships are headcanoned as such or paired with a white person.

So: Jegulus. What is this shit ship? We don't know all that much about the 1970s era of Hogwarts aside from a handful of characters and the fact that four of them were best friends. It's an era of the canon that is primed as a playground for headcanons, fanfiction, and fanart. It's been a popular era to speculate and write about since the third book came out. James Potter is the father of Harry Potter (duh, no one that's read this far is unaware of that). Regulus Black is his... best friend's little bigoted brother. They never interact canonically.

In canon, James is in love with Lily Evans. It's kind of the main thing we know about his character. His job is just... loving Lily Evans. And their relationship is, arguably, the single most important romantic relationship in the entire series. Without them, we wouldn't have a series. There would be no story. Their love quite literally saves the world that they inhabit.

And no, that doesn't mean that nobody is ever allowed to ship either of them with anyone else, ever. But... Regulus? Really? It seems to stem 50% from the "best friend's brother/brother's best friend" romance trope and the fact that Timothee Chalamet has become a popular fancast for Regulus.

And what do we know, canonically, about Regulus? Next to nothing. The main things we know are that he's Sirius's younger brother, he hates Muggleborns, and he sacrificed his life to steal one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. And while him being Sirius's younger brother is an interesting tidbit for fanfiction purposes and sacrificing his life is noble, it's kind of hard to overlook the fact that Regulus Black was a fucking Death Eater. But I guess if you can overlook that little factoid, it's easy enough to ignore the Muggleborn character James's whole character is based around and ship him with Timothee Chalamet a Death Eater instead of her!

After decades of fandom, we have finally found what I believe is the most egregious example of the "ignoring a woman in favor of shipping two men" trend. In a move that is both darkly hilarious and objectively cringe, the new young wave of Marauders fans have decided that the best possible ship for Harry Potter's father is a man who hated the fact that Harry Potter's mother existed. A character he has no interactions with, a character he only knows by proxy of being his best friend's brother, a character that is part of a group that is an allegory for Nazis, a character we know nothing about besides the fact that he was a Death Eater who drew the line at Horcruxes. Everyone give yourselves a pat on the back, it doesn't get better than this.

In conclusion, would this be the worst thing on its own if it wasn't part of a long and storied history of fandom spaces ignoring women just to write smut for two random men? Not really. But if Regulus can draw the line at splitting a soul into seven bits and hiding them in historical relics all over Britain, I think I can draw my line at erasing Lily Evans from the narrative of James Potter's life.

#anti jegulus #anti regulus black #pro jily #sam rants #i put in a cut off and warned yall if you see this and get mad thats on you atp #marauders era #lily is one of my favorite characters and i just hate to see her treated like this

[braaindamaged]

do you have any hcs for how the other pdudes react to redux dude?

oh yeah, Redux rocks the boat!

Dudes got DID in my AU, keep that in mind

When Redux first spawns P1 is too exhausted to do much about it or really be present at all, even within their head. He knows it's bad news as soon as he and P2 lose control of the front, they all do, but he is the only one with the full memories from '97 to put a reason to the fear.

After the massacre in 2017 takes place at Redux's hands, it is a whole fiasco of Dude trying to figure out what happened. Of P2 trying to pick up the pieces again. He's watching the news obsessively to get any information, It's devastating for everyone in the system and Redux just fucking disappears afterward. For a while at least.

I'll get into how they all get along after Redux integrates into their lil group for fun:

P1 finds Redux both a pain in his ass and invaluable. They share the same mindset of "everyone is out to get me so i need to get them first" and Redux is the perfect weapon for this. And I don't just mean murder. P2 is the identity their system likes to present to the masses because he is just easy enough to overlook that they can move through the world fairly silently. Which is what they all really want, but P2 also gets taken advantage of. Badly. Redux does not. This instills confidence in P1, he is both at ease knowing Redux can handle anything, and on edge.... Knowing how redux likes to handle everything.

After the initial whirlwind of figuring out who and what Redux is, P2 thinks Redux is pretty alright. These two get along mostly, though Redux is quick to give P2 shit for rolling with the punches like he does. He bitches about all kinds of things P2 got up to from '00 to '03 when he broke free of the hospital and thought he was the only one in their head. Their ex-wife, the odd jobs that were mostly scams to get his help for free. But because that's just who P2 is and he isn't looking to change, all of Redux's complaints also just roll off of him like everyone else's.

P3 and Redux don't get along for shit. Redux hates that boy, he wants him gone, but P3 isn't all that bothered, just annoyed. There's nothing Redux can actually do to P3, he can't thanos snap him out of the system, so they have to just fuckin deal. P3 thinks Redux is a liability and he spends a not insignificant amount of time talking P1 and P2 out of listening to him. Redux has no mind for consequences, P3 has all of the brain that says "remember when we went to prison and there were severe quincies to our cute lil actions"

P4 flat out ignores Redux most of the time. It's like when you're asking your mom for something she doesn't want to buy you so she just acts like she didn't hear you. However, that doesn't mean Redux is powerless or useless when P4 is fronting. Redux continues to be the driving force that will cut P4 Dude's seemingly boundless patience short, if he is put in a dire enough situation or if Redux is able to worm his way in to affect P4's emotions, Redux can influence him to take the shorter route- aka pointing guns at ppl to make them sign a petition.

#asks #pdhc #postal dude

[ocean-in-my-rebel-soul]

Something self-indulgent and fun for @heart809!

Pre-Handers

Tags: trans Hawke, pro-trans Anders, drug use

==

Hawke exhales a long plume of smoke, the elfroot perfuming the air.

"How familiar are you with transgender people, Anders?" he asks.

It's cool. He's cool. He's not anxious about his potential response, oh no.

They're smoking on the big second-floor balcony of the Amell estate. It's a beautiful spot overlooking the vast garden his mother takes pride in, from where they're able to see the far-off sea. They lounge on chaises pulled from inside the sunroom behind them and take in the brilliant sun above, dressed down to base undershirts.

Anders hums thoughtfully and takes the pipe from Hawke, lighting it with a little ball of flame off his finger. "There were some at the Circle who would come to the clinic when I was working. I knew a couple as a Warden. Amell is a trans man, after all."

Hawke knows this, one of the few things he knows about his Warden cousin. His life had become subject to scrutiny the minute he killed the Archdemon, after all; his gender was just another fact hotly discussed in the Fereldan media once he took up the title of Warden Commander and unofficial male-mistress (is there a word for that? Hawke wonders) to the King. Man, he needs to actually get in touch with him, get to know him. Hawke puts that on his mental to-do list.

"How, uh. How familiar?"

"Hm? Hawke, I'm not--I'm not giving you details about his life, that'd be rude."

"I'm not asking for details, you git." Hawke takes the pipe back and puffs heavily. He's not sure how to ask him what he wants. The elfroot is making it easier, though, making him a little more brave, a little less self-conscious. "How...how would you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Surgery. Or something."

"Hawke." He gets into their field of vision. He's beautiful, a fact of life. Hawke wants to shrink away from those inquisitive eyes, but he holds his ground. "What are you telling me?"

When he doesn't answer, Anders reaches for his hand and gently pulls the pipe away. "You can tell me," he says. "I won't judge."

"I..." In for a copper, in for a sovereign. Hawke points to himself, waving his hand down his body. "I'm, well, trans," he says, voice a little wobbly with the admission. "Surprise."

Anders just looks at him. "Oh. Okay," he says simply. "So you weren't talking about an eating disorder or something when you said you hated your body the other day?"

"An--really, that's what you got from that?" Hawke frowns, then shakes his head. Don't get distracted. "No. But..."

When he doesn't go on, Anders shifts to get into his line of sight. "But what? Thankfully, I'm just grateful it's not something worse you were about to tell me. Those fuckers are hard to treat, believe me. I'd been up all night about it, worried."

Hawke grunts. It's both too easy and too hard to talk to Anders on occasion. Something about their fledgling....something they've got developing gets in the way, sometimes. Sometimes the words just don't want to come out right. Like now, for instance.

"It doesn't bother you?" he asks instead, trying to get his thoughts in order.

Anders sits back and takes a drag off the pipe, blowing a lopsided smoke ring that drifts weightlessly into the clouds above them. "Of course not. Now I just feel like an ass for misgendering you for so long."

"Eh, don't worry about it. Not everyone knows."

"That's a shame. Thank you for telling me." He hands the pipe back to Hawke. "Can I ask how many of us do know?"

Hawke smiles. "Carver, of course. He was the first person I told. Took it really well, actually. Mom. Merrill. You."

"It's an honor."

"Don't go getting weird about it," Hawke says with a laugh. Maker, he doesn't know why he was so nervous. Now that Anders knows, it's like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Of course Anders would take it well.

"I'm just saying! It's important to me that you feel comfortable enough with me to share that. I just appreciate it, that's all." He pauses. "I just want to be a part of your life, and this--this feels like I am. So thank you for telling me."

"Yeah, well," Hawke says, getting a little wibbly. "Yeah. So...there's that." He takes another puff.

The elfroot has him delightfully high, blurry around the edges. When he passes the pipe back their hands brush, and he gets a little giddy at the touch. It's a gradual warmth that's grown in his chest, and by Andraste's shroud it's been too long since they've been able to do this, to have down-time enough to chill and relax and smoke the day away. Justice must let Anders enjoy it, because when Hawke looks Anders is leaning back against his chaise, eyes closed and face to the sky, catching the afternoon sun.

Anders always looks good in the sun.

But he digresses.

"Have you ever, uh..."

"...Worked with trans people?" Anders asks when he trails off, cracking open whisky-warm eyes and peeking at him sidelong.

"Yeah."

Anders hums. "Some," he says. "There were a handful of mages who came to the Circle clinic over the years I worked there. Some like you and Amell, some trans women. It was hard, getting them affirming care." He snorts and shakes his head. "Irving was able to convince Greagoir to let us help them, but it took some doing, apparently."

"This Greagoir fellow sounds like a right dick."

"Oh, he was," Anders agrees immediately. His eyes close again for a moment, and he sighs. "A huge prick. The worst. Except Meredith, of course. I can't imagine anyone worse than her."

Hawke tentatively reaches over for his hand. Anders is warm beneath his fingers. It's wonderful. "I'm glad you got out," he says seriously.

"Mm. Only took me seven tries."

"Well, I'm glad it stuck eventually."

Anders smiles. "Me too. But enough about me. You're trans, and you're asking about my experience." He considers the conversation; Hawke can see the dots connecting in his mind. "And I'm a surgeon."

"You're a surgeon. Have you ever...?"

"A couple times. Mostly watching on some others. I'll admit--" He pauses. "Yes, thank you, Justice." To Hawke, he says, "He wants you to know he has faith in my abilities. Apparently I'm 'great at what I do.'"

Hawke has to laugh. "So modest, too. Hi, Justice."

A flash of blue lights Anders' eyes. "Hello, Hawke," the spirit says. Anders shakes their head. "Anyway," he says pointedly, rolling his eyes before looking at Hawke again, "I'll admit, I'm not the most well-versed in that kind of care, but I'm sure I can research."

"Maybe you and Merrill could confer...?"

Anders grimaces minutely at the implication. "Well. Maybe she has a...unique perspective on the subject. At any rate, perhaps she and her clan have experience in this kind of healing. Surely she would know, being First and all."

Hawke nods. "Thank you, Anders," he murmurs.

"It's literally the least I can do, Hawke." Anders takes a puff and coughs it out, face mottling red. "Maker, that was harsh. I think we need to reload."

Hawke grins as Anders reaches for the leather pouch between them. He doesn't know why he was so nervous. If anyone would understand, it would surely be Anders. He watches as Anders tips the ash out of the pipe before packing it anew with dried herbs. Anders passes it back to him, and he takes it gladly, their fingers brushing again. This time, Hawke looks up to find Anders looking back, blushing.

Anders clears his throat. "This, ah. This should be good now."

Hawke takes the pipe and grabs for Anders' hand once more, braver now. He squeezes. "Thanks, Anders," he says again.

Anders blushes harder, if it's possible, and looks down to their hands. He flips his over so they can interlace their fingers. They fit together so easily it makes Hawke's heart race. "Can I ask you a personal question?" he asks softly.

"Anything. You now know one of the most intimate parts of me, so..."

He opens his mouth, pauses, closes it, opens it again, before finally asking, "Do you have a new name picked out yet?"

Hawke gulps down the sudden lump in his throat. "It's... It's Garrett."

"Then, you're welcome, Garrett," Anders says, and it's the most beautiful thing to come out of Anders' mouth.

#Anders #hawke #handers #da2 #thanks for the inspo Heart! #ocean writes #I just need pro-trans anders in my life right meow

[hgduo]

JINX !! tell me why you ship Quackity x Luzu and why you dont ship Quackity x Wilbur I need to know the Lore

Hiiiiiiiii Vin! oh gosh- I'll try to condense this as much as I can OKAY SO...

yeah I don't vibe with tntduo 😭- I already talked about q!tnt so I'll just explain about c!tnt instead:

Why don’t you ship it: The Fandom. Listen I hate saying it but it really is 90% of the reason why- I always try not to let annoying fandom stuff sour my opinions but like... MAN- Because like I actually did really use to enjoy /r tntduo fuck man I was shipping it back in October 17th 2020 after the moment in the button room and especially after the famous Niki's birthday stream like- idk I just liked the dynamic and the chemistry it was fun! I was even still shipping it when I first started getting really into the c!fiances and was hyped when Wilbur and Quackity met up again... but then. IDK- something about the fandom take on their dynamic just didn't click with me it didn't feel like the same characters I enjoyed ESPECIALLY IN REGARDS TO THE WAY C!QUACKITY WOULD GET TREATED- like GIRL- Quackity would not cave and be visibly annoyed or flustered by the first jab Wilbur makes hello-??? or the fanart that would portray Wil as like completely disregarding Q's personal space as this 'teehee funny flirty' thing like I HATED that shit- I also just hated how when I tried to look up c!fiances content I had to filter like 5 million tags to actually find what I was looking for because there'd be so many c!tnt fics that had the fiances tagged in them and 50% of the time it was just so Quackity could break-up with them for Wilbur 😭 I also just like got sick of seeing it everywhere when I wanted to find c!Q content it felt like it was inescapable and that people only cared for my favorite character solely to mischaracterize him in a ship I was quickly growing tired of... yeha I think that sums it up-

What would have made you like it? Um.. All of the above not happening LMAO-

Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it? Like I said earlier I DID really like it and I have tnt shipping mutuals who do the dynamic justice even if I got super burnt out on it (shoutout to Thes)

... So anyway uh- SO LUCKITY-

(this will be a lot shorter despite how much I have to say about Luckity I'm just really tired rn SORRY 😭)

This will be about k!Luckity specifically cuz I rly don;t have much of anything to say about q!Luckity outside of finding Arinckity cute

What made you ship it? Started for the fluff and stayed for the toxic ship 😈- GOD Quackity and Luzu fucking outdid themselves with Luckity in Karmaland V like dude it's just so good- like looking back on it the writing was already on the walls that they were so doomed from the very start- like they somehow manage to be both "it's tragic because it didn't have to end this way" and "it's tragic because it was always gonna end this way." if that makes sense. But god at the start it was just so easy to overlook the blaring the red flags because they'd give us just enough hope that it'd end well only for the rug to get pulled during the elections and the whole dynamic get's flopped on it's head but now instead of cute fluff or funny flirting it's this Angry passion and resentment- from start to end they were devoted to each other whether in hatred or in love. The build-up and payoff were both just amazing even if I felt miffed about the ending of the arc at first I've since come to love it because really it's just the cherry on top of their tragedy leaving the possibility they could just end up doing it all over again yeah <3 They were The Moment yeah!

What are your favorite things about the ship? A lot of things but like- I love that they're sun and moon coded <33333 I remember associating them with sun/moon imagery before they took those iconic photos with the sun and moon and like I was so hyped when that happened <3 my toxic sun/moon boys yeah <3

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? Not really no- but HEY check out this web weave I made about Luckity that I'm still super proud of and debate remaking one day: X :3

#vvindication #tntduo neg #ask

[whyrubuyingclothesatthesoupstore]

hey guys wanna see how much I can talk about Sou Hiyori

Anyway it’s pretty obvious that Shin’s weakness is one of the reasons for Midori’s obsession with him, but I think a big part of it is also that Shin was probably the only person to genuinely admire Hiyori. like ever

Everyone else Hiyori was acquainted with either hated his guts or only liked him because they didn’t really know who he was (Shin kind of didn’t either but I’ll get to that). The other participants only knew him for a short period of time, and for half of that time they wanted him dead. The other floormasters were probably more-or-less his equals and had no reason to look up to him. Maple’s love was not only forced onto her, it was also completely blind judging by how she kept talking about how kind Hiyori was and ignored his flaws (the mass murder) entirely.

(I guess the Shin AI also counts as someone who admired him but I don’t think Hiyori cared about him as much as the human counterpart, plus his admiration of Hiyori is almost the same as human Shin’s)

There’s technically also Hinako, but right now the only thing we know for sure about her relationship with Hiyori is that she trusted him enough to think he wouldn’t get her killed. Maybe she hated him and just didn’t think he’d lie to her, maybe she considered them equals, maybe she did look up to him and just wasn’t as fun to mess with as Shin, unfortunately nankidai did not tell me personally. Thought I still don’t think she really thought of him as a role model.

So Hiyori wasn’t really looked up to unless he hid his worst qualities, or unless someone decided to overlook these qualities. But with Shin, he could be more-or-less himself, at least enough for Shin to know he was kind of a creep. And Hiyori’s flaws (not the mass murder. yet) never ended up driving him away. Shin knew Hiyori was a selfish person that enjoyed making him uncomfortable, and probably knew Hiyori was a manipulative bastard as well, but he still stuck with him, not in spite of those flaws, but partially because of them.

Shin didn’t gloss over or ignore anything about Hiyori (except maybe his weak spots), it’s just that even his worst qualities seemed like something that should be admired because they were a sign of strength (which is a sentiment you can see in the game pretty much since the beginning). And I honestly can’t imagine how much that must’ve inflated Hiyori’s ego to have someone who saw him basically as he was, sadism and all, and proclaimed him an anti-hero

(by the way, anti-hero characters are also loved because of how flawed they are)

And the thing is, even after learning who Midori really was and seeing the worst of his flaws (yes, the mass murder), Shin still goes by Sou and wears Hiyori’s scarf. He can’t fully let go of his admiration, and can’t deny Hiyori is an incredibly intelligent person that taught him a lot, even if the lessons that weren’t in programming ended up doing more harm than good.

But here’s another thing, and it’s that the human and AI versions of Shin view Hiyori a bit differently, which is why I think he values the human more. Shin became a lot more bitter as he grew up, and that’s something that the AI is just too out of date for. Because of that, for human Shin there’s a lot of hatred mixed with the admiration. He doesn’t even seem to be bothered when Hiyori dies. It’s not that he’s hiding his emotions, he’s freaking out, but freaking out about the possibility of Keiji getting killed, so by that point the hatred is probably bigger than the admiration. And what did Hiyori say about hatred?

It would actually just make him more invested in messing with Shin! Hiyori wants to be feared, hated, admired, and Shin is probably the only person in the world to give him all of that, and in incredible amounts too, since it’s really easy for Hiyori to get a reaction out of him.

Hiyori “cares” about Shin because of how much Shin cares about Hiyori. He made himself so unlikeable that anyone seeing him as a role model is bizarre even to him.

#this is not meant to be a ship thing. I plead of thee have mercy on me #yttd #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #sou hiyori #shin tsukimi #midori yttd #yttd midori #shin ai #I'm insaaane. I'm crrazyy!! insane. asylum. I'm gonna kill ya. I'm gonna kill ya. #editing the post every five seconds because it's my longest one so far and is kind of incomprehensible #oh yeah baby that's what I call character analysis #I am Going to Explode

[themidnightcircusshow]

I am lowkey highkey obsessed with Thomas. He comes across as having a streak of earnestness in some things I read (it was either his knightly brotherhood agreement with Charles Duke of Orleans or his letter to Henry about how awful his situation in Ireland was) but I also like the hotheaded, reckless image of him. I think a lot of modern historians either overlook him because he wasn't around for Henry VI's minority or just tend to assume that the Battle of Bauge tells us everything about his personality and thus we end up at the hotheaded, reckless idiot image.

(also re: Henry; I think CGW says something like he could have been a good king but the way he became king meant he could never be a good king because usurpation left too great a stain on his character. That makes a lot of sense to me. Plus he got so sick just as he was starting to gain stability on the throne… you can almost sort of read this trend of Henry being like "time for kingly awesomeness! (a fun party ala Edward III; going on a military campaign)" and then ending up having another rebellion or health crisis. The dickhead was still doing it up to 1412 - he was going to lead Thomas's expedition! Until he couldn't…)

(I have written and re-written this so many times to try and clearly explain my view and I'm still not happy with it v.v)

I kind of like the mental image of Thomas as a hot head, but a hot head with a heart of gold iykwim. It really annoys me that we don't know more about him, because reading about his stint in Ireland and campaign in France knowing how much people wanted him to be heir instead of Hal really just... baffled me. The failure of those two things don't exclusively or even predominately fall on his head, it just doesn't explain why people were so ready to back him over Hal, who already had a quashed rebellion under his belt (it'd be easy to brush it off as just people really hating Hal, which they did seem to, but they also seemed to genuinely want Thomas). I think it mostly comes down to Thomas' strengths being in areas that weren't necessarily conducive to leading a country, the way Hal, John, and likely Philippa's were, but we only know of those strengths because we have been able to evaluate their and their successors achievements to examine what does make a good monarch.

CGW coming to that conclusion about Henry IV didn't make a lot of sense to me, because that book did a really good job at detailing all the ways Henry was ill-equipped to be king ^.^'''' A lot of it was definitely because of him being a usurper, like being unable to convince parliament to raise taxes because they would leverage his own promises against him, or his habit of basically never standing up for himself and then going too far in the other direction, realising how much he screwed up, and then swinging too far back again (see the Scrope debacle). And even without all the ways his being a usurper affected him, there are so many instances of him straining against the monetary confines he now has to live with (I understand why he wanted the Duchy of Lancaster to be kept separate from the crown. Terrible outcome, but understandable), or wanting to be on crusade and not being able to because he is king, or the trouble he went through for marrying Joanna because it wasn't a good marriage for a king... all of it very much suggests to me that again, the 'princely virtues' he was so often praised for over Richard did nothing to actually prepare him for running a government, and there is a lot that suggests to me he didn't enjoy it. I guess you give him more credit that I do

#Thomas Duke of Clarence #Henry IV #Asked and answered