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ajbullet · 4 months

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My thoughts on episode 1 and 2 of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: (spoilers)

- The ACCURACY of the little Percy casting was unbelievable. They look identical.

- The SARCASM 🫶🏻👌🏻

- I’ve never been able to connect with Sally Jackson as a mother-figure in the books just because of my own rocky relationship with my mom, but the way she’s played really made me believe in her character and her love for Percy. It gives PERCY’s character more grounding and their relationship really drives the show.

- Sally just sitting in the rain with Olivia Rodrigo playing. Mood.

- “You fell in love…with Jesus?”

- The friction and “betrayal” between Percy and Grover was super interesting to see and I’m really glad they touched on that more than in the books

- I’ve been pronouncing Brunner wrong. Dam.

- Sally saying goodbye to Percy, knowing she was probably going to die 😭. Percy screaming for her.

- the Minotaur fight was awesome

- “YOU DROOL WHEN YOU SLEEP” Omg I can’t believe she said it. Leah’s delivery was different than how I imagined it but I loved it. She’s so matter-of-fact

- Again, I’ve always struggled with connecting with Luke’s character just because I felt like he was a little two-dimensional in the first book and then after that, you know, he’s evil and while I understood his motivations, I just didn’t really…care? Idk but his portrayal really helped me understand the depth of his betrayal and just how heartbreaking his story really is. I already love him more than I’ve allowed myself to from the books

- “She’s my little sister” I love their relationship while it lasts. Seeing how close they are really adds to the layers of both of their characters

- I’ve also been pronouncing Thalia wrong. Double dam.

- THE BLUE CANDY. PERCY BURNING IT NOT TO TALK TO HIS DAD BUT HIS MOM. That scene broke my heart.

- Leah. As. Annabeth. I’m going to be completely honest, Ive loved Leah from everything I’ve seen about her but I was nervous just because of how precious of a character Annabeth Chase has always been to me and I didn’t know if ANYONE, not specifically Leah, could live up to those expectations but omg I love her. Her bluntness. Her facial expressions. Her voice and delivery. Her sure movements and confidence and self-assuredbess that has come from success after success and training for so long. The way she is so unashamed to admit to using Percy and only watching him to see what he could do for HER. In her short amount of screen time so far, Leah was able to add layers to this character I’ve loved for so long that I didn’t even know where there. I never wanted her to leave the screen. My only complaint is that she didn’t have more lines. She is my Annabeth Chase. She’s not from the books. She’s not from the movies. She’s her own version and she stole the show.

- Luke saying Annabeth has a plan and that Percy will know what to do, only for PERCY TO BE FLOSSING AND PEEING AND PETTING GECKOS and trying so hard not to drive himself crazy with his ADHD and having nothing to do. I genuinely laughed out loud. Might be my favorite part.

- the fight scenes are so well choreographed.

- CLARISSE. She’s too pretty. I can’t hate her. And her ELECTRIC SPEAR. When it broke and she screamed, I got chills.

- The trident.

- Annabeth KNOWING Percy was Poseidon’s before anyone else cause she’s “always 6 steps ahead”

- People already keeping such important info from Percy “for his own good”

- “You are Poseidon’s son” “No, I am Sally Jackson’s son!” Might just be my favorite line. It’s so true. She raised him. She sacrificed everything for him. She loved him and cared for him and taught him that he wasn’t broken, he was singular, a miracle. She died so that he could live.

- Sally Jackson is parenting goals

- The way Percy instantly changed his decision to go to the underworld as soon as Grover told him his mom could be saved. Their relationship is unmatched

- Walker Scobell is already pretty well known, but I have a really good feeling his popularity is going to skyrocket after this show. He is such an amazing, dedicated actor. I know exactly what he is felling 100% of the time.

Overall, I absolutely loved it. In two episodes it’s become a comfort show that I can’t wait to continue watching!!

#annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #percy jackson #percabetn #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo disney+#pjo #pjoverse #annabeth pjo #grover underwood #percabeth #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the lightning thief

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dozing-marshmallow · 7 months

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Pls i NEED more Chris McLean x reader. I NEED😭🙏 ive read everything of him on here😓

So pretty please something like chris mclean x wife reader and like, the whole tdi cast gets to meet her bc they didnt believe that Chris had a wife at first?😇

TRUST ME WHEN I SAY I feel the exact same way😫 I love Chris so much and it’s such a huge pleasure that I can write for him while having other people who love him enjoy it as welllll. I will be writing him for a very long time so you can always expect something new evolved around him to come up ;)<3

CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! READER HEADCANONS

Having your daily hug with Chris, the tender moment reminds you of what he told you earlier.

“Were you being serious when you told me the kids laughed at you when you told them you were married?"

“Mhmm.” he responds from underneath you,“They called it a sick joke and told me that stand up comedy was way in my league.”

“Aw darling.” you kiss his forehead,“I’m guessing you’re gonna ask a favour for me to stop by to prove them wrong?”

He raises an eyebrow,“What do you mean? Stand up comedy is in my pursuit. I just don’t prefer it, doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.”

He can be so silly sometimes,“I meant your marital status, baby.”

“Oh, yeah...” he holds onto your wrists,“Please?”

You let your body relax completely on top of his, still smiling,“Your wish is my command.”

“Aw what’s the matter, McLean? Couldn’t your wife make it?” Duncan was the first to pick up on ridiculing Chris, eyes still puffy from his chronic cries of laughter from last night. On another circumstance, Chris would’ve been fuming, had he not have reason to smirk.

“How sweet of you to worry, Duncan!” the host begins off, clasping his hands,“But she’s made it in one piece!”

On cue, you walk into the mess hall, linking your arm with Chris’,“Hii everyone! So happy to finally see you all in person!”

All conversation died.

Everyone turns to you.

This woman they’ve never seen before...

His... His wife?

Were they hearing that right?

No way... He was being serious?

Chris was rolling on the inside at the shared alike look of being slapped spread across the contestants, especially of the mocking kind.

“I...didn’t know you had enough space in your heart to love someone else!” Beth’s the first to break out of her ice of shock to chirp.

“Surprised?” Chris chuckled, allowing you to introduce yourself, which was not what you guys decided.

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N)! This hot mess’ wife...” turns out improvising in front of teenagers wasn’t as fun as it sounded,“Sorry, I’m...not too good with words, so...help yourself to these cupcakes I made for you guys. I made them as a way to say how huge of a pleasure it is to meet you all!”

As you turn around to unwrap the trays, Leshawna clears her throat to privately address the cohort,"One of two things are gonna happen. One, those cupcakes are filled with maggots and hair. Or two, it's the first actual food we're gettin’ on this set."

Everybody nods in agreement.

They were right to inspect the wrapping and texture with their noses and eyes.

Yet didn’t expect to have the flavour of delicate buttermilk crumble on their tongues.

Oh my God...

Maybe they were deprived from having treats so long on the show, but it was unanimously categorised as a whole new delicious nonetheless.

The punk delinquent scoffs over,“Yeah... I’m not buying that’s his wife.”

“That evil maniac with a permanent smile is probably holding her hostage!” The ginger geek dramatically pinpoints.

“I can see why, these are too die for!” Owen squeaks, scoffing down an entire cupcake, wrapping included, not comprehending what situation it would mean for you if you really were abducted.

“Hm... Maybe he’s paying her.” Gwen suggests alternatively after taking another glance at you: it was your arm around him. Too touchy to be forced...

“I’d understand if he was hot like me, but he’s not even halfway there! Where would he find someone willing to do all that for him? No amount of money should convince anyone to ever lose their dignity for the likes of him." Justin criticises out of his internal debate of skipping the cupcakes or not.

“You’d be shocked if you’ve seen the fansite.” Noah opposes like it was the most known thing.

Speaking of which,"Sierra.” Heather directs, taking sudden control of the situation and everyone’s eyes to peel towards the superfan whose mouth was staining in the same dye as her magenta hair, perking up from her snacking at the mention of her name,“You know everything about everybody. Say, is Chris paying that woman to pretend to be married to him for laughs?"

The girl whose lifeline was Total Drama quickly swallows the last portion of her cupcake to appease her idols with a packed answer,“Oh, no! It’s all true! Unfortunately. Those two got married way before Total Drama was aired. A lot happened’s... My mom waited years for Chris to propose to her and there he goes, chasing after that nobody! Do you have any idea how painful it is to see my mom’s husband having an affair? (Y/N) is nothing but a block of concrete, blinding Chris from seeing his true soulmate! A.k.a my mom!” The last few sentences gradually grazed with personal prejudice, but not enough to throw the next cupcake away.

“Wait, but if Chris did get married to your mother... Wouldn’t that make you his stepdaughter-?“ Alejandro posited, already having a hard time imagining Chris take that role biologically.

"So Chris,” Cody interrupts the impending awkward ambient Alejandro’s phrasing would bring, steering the conversation back, still bewildered,“...really does have a wife."

Bridgette takes her slo mo time in grabbing another frosted vanilla good, rethinking, the same man that laughed at their pain,"I...honestly don't know how to feel about that."

"Huuu... I feel like I went overboard with cupcakes, Chris!” you freak out to your husband, fidgeting with the sleeves of your turtleneck,“Why did I pick to make something so childish? I should've picked something more formal... Like a dish from my home country..."

"Relaaaaax, no one else is thinking about that." Chris assured, biting into one of your delicacies.

You continued to murmur on,“I wanted to make something universal, a collection of sweets so in case one likes a certain flavour more than others... I thought teenagers around here liked cupcakes... I feel like such a fool... I hope they don’t think I see them as childish...”

He grabs one and holds it horizontally to your lips, painting them yellow,“It’s not just teenagers that like them, (Y/N). Besides, they are children. Children like things that are childish.”

That’s true... Your paranoia’s sunk,“Well... They seem to be enjoying themselves. I’ve been worrying for nothing.” you smile, drawing your finger on his stubble to take for licking,“You had some icing there.”

Turns out, you were really nice.

The angel to Chris’ devil.

The sun to Chris' moon.

The calm to Chris’ energetic.

“So (Y/N)... I just...have a quick question on behalf of everyone else.” The CIT girl shields her mouth with her hand, like she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Of course, Courtney. Whatever would you like to know?” you welcome her, all kinds of possible questions cloud your mind.

She tightens your shoulders in her palms,“What the hell do you see in Chris?”

...You expected that one,“Why, I see a strong, handsome, hilarious man. A goal-driven, deep down caring, loving, in need of love man.”

Now the only true thing she heard was “goal-driven”- to kill them as spiritually as possible. Maybe even physically.

"You're not brainwashed, are you?" Her eyes widened like your answer had tossed her deeper in her horror.

"Get her to blink two times in a row if she needs help!" Tyler shouts, unintentionally defeating the purpose of being discreet from his clean intention.

"Hm?” Teenagers are so funny!,“It's not brainwash when it's love! After all, wouldn't you say you've found yourself in love with someone you never thought you'd be with?" You smile warmly at the type A when the butterflies fluttered an external reaction across her freckled face.

"Th-That's different!” she impulsively shrieked before closing her mouth in embarrassment. She looks around, and after making sure no one was judging her, she continues speaking, back to her whispering voice,“That’s Duncan. This is Chris.”

“Well, we both seem to have a type for the ones that went to jail, don’t we?” you wittily mention, giving her a wink to the similar parallel.

Leaving Courtney to her common dynamics contemplation, there was no better timing for Owen to ask if you had any more cupcakes to give.

“I’m so happy you liked them! I’ll tell you what, I can make more and send them to you."

“Don’t get too flattered. Bed crusher there would eat anything, even things you can’t call food.” The overruling antagonist scornfully gestures, her hair as black as her heart.

“...Ah, right.” you shouldn't have thought so highly of yourself over baking. To Owen, they probably weren’t good, just something to give his appetite.

“Well... That's not entirely true...” The foodie looks to the side uncomfortably for a moment from Heather’s harsh perspective,“Having eaten a lot of things gives me a solid judgement on a variety of tastes. With that said, I’d specifically be really happy to eat (Y/N)’s baked cupcakes again. You can't buy that kind of quality!"

Aw! “Thanks, Owen!” it’s no mystery why everyone was in his support back first season!

“You didn’t use any store bought cake mix, did you?” DJ asks, his naturally kind pitch of voice crunching up an otherwise accusing delivery his words may have played.

“Nope! If I was gonna have half of the ingredients already done for me, I may as well have just ordered the finish product.” the truth radiates through your magnetism, not as magnetizing as your husband, smothering you away in his arms.

For some reason, no one said anything right away. Like taking an exam, silence had scattered among these group of teenagers.

"I'm convinced she has Stockholm syndrome."

Up till Harold breaks it.

"Stockholm syndrome?! Come onn, you know that’s not a real thing!” Lindsay asserted, turning to Beth,“Is it a real thing?"

The nice-hearted nerd smacks a hand to her forehead. Rather than finding humor in uninformed Lindsay, Trent finds his eyes trapped on the sight of Chris’ hand holding onto yours, fingers locked, palms resting. Above all his faults, Chris...still had you.

That kind of love...hard to find, lucky to have.

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baiabay · 10 months

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No Role Modelz (ATSV Black Cat Variant! Reader Insert)

Chapter 1: Scaredy-Cat

Prologue

Chapter 1: Current Chapter

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

^^links 2 chapters!! this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33

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A/N: Spot is here!!

Hey all! Okay so first things first thank you so much for all the support of the last chapter! It honestly means alot given that ive never written before lol. Alsoooo sorry for the radio-silence after the last release, i just graduated highschool! So yay for me :) also means that ill have much more time to write since its summer break for me now. Lastly,sorry if this chapter seemed kinda slow, I wanted to try to incorporate what this universes’ Felicia Hardys “canon events”(or what would be of her canon events) would look like in this chapter to set up a bit of backstory, as someone who doesn’t read the comics nor play the games, pls forgive any inaccuracies in Felicias lore as I am only going based off of wikipedia (plus in this story reader is a minor so I wanted to exclude the nsfw trauma that Felicia goes through in og story) I also wanted to find out a way how to integrate reader into the main plot which is why i decided to feature Spot in this chapter :D thanks again for the support and don’t forget that this chapter along with any future ones will be posted to ao3/tumblr under the same title!

P.S. Much more Spider-Miles/Black Cat interactions next chapter!!

Word Count: 1844

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You remembered it like it was yesterday.

Seven months ago, Brooklyn, New York.

Your father - The Black Cat’s face on every screen in the country, but most importantly yours.

BREAKING NEWS: WORLD-RENOWNED CAT BURGLAR CAUGHT IN THE ACT : IDENTITY SHOCKS THE NATION

…huh?

LIVE ON THE SCENE: ‘BLACK CAT’ REVEALED TO BE MULTI MILLIONAIRE WALTER HARDY AFTER RUN-IN WITH SPIDER-MAN

…no, this-

THIS JUST IN: CAT BURGLAR WALTER HARDY PRESUMED DEAD AT HEIST SCENE - POSSESSIONS TO BE TURNED IN TO OFFICIALS

This can’t be happening.

It was all too much at once.

He never kept it secret from you. You knew about your father’s job.

You knew all about what he did. The planning, the heists, the reselling, he had done it for years. And you knew all about it. But he had been doing this for years. Long enough to allow your family to live very comfortably. Long enough that you believed he would never be caught.

But yet there you were, all that you knew burned to the ground in a matter of minutes.

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Frantically packing everything you could into any bag you could find; clothes, money, pictures, weapons, anything - before they could take it away from you.

And when they did, it was brutal.

Live-streamed news coverage of men raiding your home, rummaging through your stuff- your father’s stuff- as if he never existed.

Soon enough there were auctions. Bids, worth millions, on your father’s items, broadcasted across the nation, with drinks and music and finger foods - they made a fucking sport out of it.

You remembered it like it was yesterday, the cheers in the street after the big-bad-black-cat was pronounced dead. The endless praise Spider-man received, that of which he took with a smile on his face. You had wished you could kill him.

You remembered it like it was yesterday, the day Peter Parker died.

You laughed.

. . . . . . . . . .

Seven months later, Brooklyn, New York.

Ugh.

Muscles aching, you stretched up in your bed, and groaned. Ruffling the bedhead out of your hair, you reluctantly trudged out of your mattress to open a window. Coincidentally, one of your many cats was perched perfectly on its sill, wide-eyed and tail flicking in your direction.

“...This whole heist stuff is really catching up to me, huh?”

The cat stared. You sighed. You really had to get yourself some friends.

Ever since your fathers passing, you’ve basically been on your own. Shortly after all his (and your) possessions were seized, you hopped around until you managed to find shelter in a shitty apartment on the west side of town. You, fueled purely by spite (with a tasteful teeny tiny dash of vengeance on the side), inherited the criminal persona of your father, along with his criminal tendencies, and took upon yourself the name of The Black Cat.

All this time you’ve managed to keep your identity completely secret, not even your resellers knew who you were. That came with one major drawback though… you were extremely lonely.

Even with your frequent charity rounds around the community, noone really knew who you were. Even though Black Cat was nonviolent, the name was widely feared seemingly everywhere you went. Even with your days at school, the school you’ve been going to for months now, you made your way around the halls unnoticed.

Speaking of school, you were late.

Shit.

Spending ample time dazing out your window, you’ve completely lost track of time. You disregarded your hair and rushed to pull on your uniform. Stumbling around your complex you hastily dumped too large of a portion of cat food into the automatic feeder, something you’re sure the cats will be grateful for. Shoving a few snacks into your bag, you simultaneously shuffled into your school shoes, proceeding to dash out the door.

Sprinting down the stairs, nearly tripping once, twice, you whipped out your phone to check when the next bus route would arrive. 35 minutes.

Shitshitshit.

You paused, still in the stairwell, before turning to sprint in the opposite direction, towards the rooftop terrace. Creaking open the door, you checked to make sure noone else was up there before making your way towards the edge of the terrace. To anyone else but you, it would look like a young student was about to make an unfortunate decision and jump. And jump you did.

You fell for a few seconds, relishing in the way your stomach dropped. You’d never get tired of that feeling. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building. Pulling and releasing, you quickly fell into a swinging pattern, towards Brooklyn Visions.

Hidden from the eyes of civilians, you swung yourself through the shadows. Everyone looked so small from up there, and for a brief second, you found power in your lonesome. In the corner of your eye you noticed what seemed to be a lanky white figure clumsily flying through the air. (You paid it no mind).

Dropping down into a dark alleyway much closer to campus, you continued your mad dash towards the main entrance. Winded, you finally made your way inside the building, a thin layer of sweat shined on your forehead. The hallways were empty, class must be in session. You took a few steps forward, making your way towards your classroom until being knocked over by a student, very evidently in a hurry.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’m just in a rush, I didn’t mean…”

The boy reached out his hand to help you up.

“Hey, it's no problem, I get it.”

You smiled, and took your hand in his. He hesitated for a moment, staring, brows furrowed at your now interlocked hands, before nodding and continuing his sprint down the hallways.

You took in his disheveled appearance, his wonky tie, his half-tucked shirt, untied laces, dark eyes, curly hair, brown skin, sweaty palms…

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted with the shrill ringing of the school bell. Suddenly, the hallways flooded with students rushing towards their next classes, you decided to follow suit.

On the other side of the hallway, Miles Morales lingered on how his spidey-sense flashed alarms in his head when his hand touched yours. Every nerve in his system telling him to run, fight, dodge, anything to get away from you-he couldn't put his finger on why. (He paid it no mind). Blaming it on nerves, Miles shoved his way through the packed hallways, dreading the meeting waiting for him in the guidance counselor's office.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

School was a bust, as always. Nothing new, you made your way through the rest of the day unnoticed. As always. But you didn’t have time to think about that right now.

At the moment, you were in the middle of going through numerous number-codes on a padlock blocking the vault door to an extremely expensive gemstone. You’ve been salivating over this stone for weeks now, planning out how and when exactly you would strike to get this thing in your hands. You could see it now, the headlines, the chaos, after some rando millionaire’s little rock was taken from him…

“Woah, hey, you’re new!”

You flinched, hard. Whipping around towards the source of this unusually chipper voice. You were met with… a cow? … Man?

You stared, hard.

“Okay, hey. The ogling isn’t necessary… I just-”

The cowman’s sentence was cut short with a quick lash of your whip, that of which he caught…? Your whip seemed to phase right through a large black hole on his torso, the opposite end appearing in a similar black hole right behind you, the whips end striking your back. You cried out, hit with the full force of your lash.

Sinister giggles emerged from the spotted figure, pointed towards your pained form. You trembled, in shock.

“It’s rude to interrupt.”

Spot stepped slowly towards you, his…well, spots, whirring aggressively, pointedly. You were frozen on the ground. Staring up at him, your lips trembled open.

“What,” You coughed. Once, twice. “-what are you?”

The black and white figure straightened, only to then fold over into a dramatic, hilariously unthreatening pose.

“You, can call me… The Sp-”

“Some sort of cow?” You snickered. It was now his turn to flinch, hard.

“I am NOT a-” The cow cleared his throat. “I am not a cow…whydoeseveryonesaythat…I, am the most dangerous villain you’ve ever seen, The Spo-”

“I mean, what’s with that getup?” The grin on your face grew. “Is that… is that supposed to be a costume? Orrrr…”

The Spot sighed, defeated. “...it’s skin.”

“It’s skin?”

“Yes, yes, now I-”

You stood up, energy back and eyes crinkled.

“Wow, that’s…hm, interesting…skin, that’s skin? Sorry, sorry-listen man, I uh, I really gotta get back to this, so if you don’t mind?”

Stepping backwards in offence, the spotted figure shook in anger before swinging out his arm, releasing numerous dark voids around the room. Hitting practically every surface, but one most importantly, landing on the vault door, separating you, from your stone.

“Ah-wait-”

Swiftly, The Spot weaved his way through his holes, limbs popping up and out around the room in a way you couldn’t even begin to reach for your whip.

No way was he about to take it from you.

But take it, he did.

In what felt like seconds, the whole room was engulfed in black. Stumbling backwards, you fell through one of the voids, flailing ungracefully, swimming through nothing.

It was hard to breathe.

A shrill crackling terrorized your ears, and before you, appeared a very disheveled Spot, now fully black with white spots, facial dot whirring and trained on you.

Gem in hand.

Panic.

You were panicking. The sound of blood thrummed in your ears as you squirmed around in nothingness. Fuck the rock, you just had to get out of here.

A cold hand grabs your wrist, dragging you upwards, towards the crackling form.

For the second time today, you were frozen.

“I am not a cow,”

The form spoke lowly.

“I am not some villain of the week”,

Frozen still, you did nothing but stare straight into his glare.

“I. Am. The Spot”.

Suddenly, you were dropped. For the second time today, your stomach dropped with you. Next thing you know you’re falling through another void, leading not into darkness, but through the city skyline. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building.

As soon as your feet reached a solid surface, your legs buckled. Heaving, you failed to process what just took place, heart pounding in your ears.

“...the fuck was that?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Miles received word of commotion taking place downtown, something to do with spots. He had hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was, and it was. It was, and was so much worse.

Dark spots littered a large manor, maniacal cackling emerging from its center. In the corner of his eye a familiar masked figure hunched over, breathing rapidly, staring straight ahead at the mess of spots.

(He paid it some mind.)

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Ppl that asked me to tag them!(thxx 4 the support!)

@nightshxdex

@itszzmoon

@blackcat-kittyblogs

@vxxxb

#miles morales x reader #atsv x you #atsv #reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv reader insert #spider-man: across the spider-verse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse x reader #black cat! reader #hobie brown x reader #gwen stacy x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miguel ohara

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stsgooo · 2 years

Text

PARK IT. steve harrington

summary: a drive-in showing of alien allows for an opportunity that neither steve or the reader are willing to pass by.

content tags: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, handjobs, masturbation mention (f), fingering, public sex, sub!steve/dom!fem!reader, praise kink, body worshipping, making out.

wc: 3,204

a/n: it's late as hell and also my first smut ever (and first reader fic ive wrote in two/three years) so i hope it doesn't suck too much. but enjoy some pure dirt.

Your hand had been gradually moving up his thigh all night.

As the movie, obnoxiously loud and confusing in it's own right, played in front of you both, Steve remained vigilant to his promises to Robin. He wouldn't screw this date up with you, he wouldn't be "pervy", and he wouldn't go in for a kiss unless you'd initiated it first. Three plain rules that they'd both set up so he wouldn't mess up this long awaited date with you. It'd been fool proof. There was no way he could mess up a night of Alien. The movie was in no shape or form romantic.

Yet, ten minutes into the movie he felt your hand rest on his knee. You had scoot over from the passenger side and into his side, resting you head on his shoulder and just softly, soothingly, stroking his knee. It had been so soothing that he had felt almost guilty for the way his stomach fluttered with that familiar bundle. The same spark that Robin had warmed him against indulging for the night.

Don't let your other head think for you, dingus, Robin had said as she rewind a tape, watching the frames flash by with boredom. The last thing Y/N needs is you getting horny and making it about sex.

He wasn't sure if he was dreaming, but he swore that you were the one that was horny. With the way your loose dress was now pushed so far up your thighs he could see your panties, and he swore your free hand was pushing up your boobs too much.

He was painfully aware of your fingernails starting it's brushing up his jean clad knee forty-five minutes ago. For the sake of his sanity, Steve tried to ignore the way it burned his stomach, just watching with the utmost determination as a poor woman was pulled apart on screen. But even then he was still hyper focused on the way your fingers created indents on his skin as they moved, squeezed, moved, squeezed, moved, squeezed. By the time you're hand was on his upper thigh, his cock was half hard and twitching for some type of friction. Shame and guilt making him silently pray that you would let up. Just a bit.

He shifted in his seat, briefly hoping that he'd somehow release the tension in his cock. Nothing. Steve glanced down at you, finding your eyes on the screen ahead, seemingly oblivious to his inner struggle. He went to shift again when you spoke.

"You know, Sigourney Weaver is kinda badass," Your voice was low, as if you were passing a secret between the two of you. Your eyes dragged from the screen and to Steve, lips tugging upwards when you saw his hazel eyes already resting on you. Move and squeeze. "Hot too."

Your hand moved upwards once more. Only inches away from his cock and he felt like he could explode. Surely you would think nothing of him except how sleezy he was when you found out. A weird perv for allowing himself to get so easily hard for you. For thinking about what it'd be like to have your lips against his skin, your tongue lapping around his head, and your hand squeezing the base of his cock.

Think of Mr. Florence coming in with that god awful porno last week, or how you stepped in dog shit just yesterday and it got in your shoe, or maybe the smell of those tunnels you almost died-

Steve released a large breath, smiling awkwardly as he shifted again. "Uh, I guess- Robin, she-she really likes her. Something about, uh, pubes and feminism. I don't really know the, er, correlation but...there was definitely something about pubes and CGI which is weird. Not that I, uh, hate hair. Honestly, we should let women release the bushes- or...or something like that--"

"Steve?" You cut through his rambling, amusement twinkling your eyes, but something else was buried in those Y/E/C eyes.

Steve cleared his throat. "Yeah-Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?" You were so close that he could see the specks of light from the screen reflecting off your eyes. They were staring deeply into his own, almost enticing him. He couldn't think of any coherent words to say, a simple yes or no refused to push out. He almost managed to get himself to at least move, before your other hand trailed to cup his jaw. Your fingers distantly twirled with the strands resting at the back of his head. His chest fluttered and he leaned in. "I really want to kiss you."

It was a breathless whisper, but it was enough for whatever grip Steve had on himself to crumble completely.

"Please." Was all he said in response before you pressed your lips together.

Euphoria.

Steve wouldn't describe it any other way. The sounds of battle leaked into the car, a man yelling, GAME OVER, BITCH! But none of that matter as all he could focus on was the way you seemed to devour him. The way your lips moved hungrily and sloppily against his own. Smacks of lips parting, panting, then resuming to destroy his self will. Your left hand tugged at his hair, making him gasp softly, and your tongue to slip into his mouth. Lewd sounds came from him like he was nothing but a bubbly whore at the hands of his lover. Immediately submitting into you as if he didn't have some type of pride to uphold. But you were so fluid in your movements. Like you had went through them millions of times before, consuming someone whole, leaving them a mess.

You were one of the last people to be so...experienced. But he wasn't exactly complaining. In all honesty, he couldn't find it in himself to do anything but match your pace, your movements, and give moans of satisfaction to give reassurance that he was still following. The hand that'd been possessively resting on his thigh moved up again and this time, you'd actually palmed him through his jeans. Steve released a pathetic little moan, his chest cave in, his heart beat erratically, and jaw falling open to pant.

You moved onto his jaw, giving a little nip. If he had been in his right mind, he would've probably winced at the intensity, but he was in a state between worlds. Too focused on the pleasure to focus on anything else. You kissed his jaw, gently swiping your tongue over the red mark in a soothing pattern.

"Been trying to get you to look at me all night, Steve," You whispered against his skin, breath tickling his neck as you pressed lazy kisses against it. Steve just closed his eyes, trying to calm his heart as his hands squeezed your waist. "You look so pretty tonight. I just wanted to kiss you and touch you all over."

Steve gasped softly, feeling his cock flexing against the zipper. It'd been so long since someone had wanted him. Wanted him to look at them, wanted to kiss him, wanted to touch him all over. It'd been so long since Steve had felt that greedy filthy need to have someone around him. To have someone swallow him whole and make him forget everything in the process. Steve can't even place the last time someone had called him pretty genuinely- if its even happened at all.

He placed his hand on your jaw, thumb gently skirting over your skin. "Really?" He hated the way his voice cracked. Too emotional for his own good.

You paused, having heard full well the dip in confidence in his voice. You stared at him unwaveringly.

"Really." You pressed a soft kiss against his lips, this time it was gentle. Like he was fragile and one foul touch would break him. "Thought about the different ways I could touch you, have you pressed against me. I just wanted to feel you, but you deserve more than that, Steve. Because you're just so pretty."

Steve's breath hitched as you gave a firm stroke to his cock. His eyes falling closed and head falling back against the head rest. "Oh," He whispered, his chest falling as you slowly, painfully, stroked him through his jeans.

"Can I jerk you off, Stevie?" Stevie was certainly new, but the man didn't have the mental capacity to tease you for you. Your fingers found the outline of his cock and squeezed, stroking as Steve moaned, pushing his hips upwards in hopes of getting more. "I want to make you feel good. Just wanna...get you off right here."

Steve briefly worried about being caught. About someone seeing him in such a vulnerable state. His cock out, being ruthlessly stroked, you having him in the palm of your hand like it was an everyday Friday night. His windows weren't very tinted, you'd both be exposed. But then he briefly thought of Tommy and Carol (very briefly because he'd rather not think about them while his cock was aching and you were staring at him with that dark look.) and the amount of times they'd snuck into the back of his car and got off. There was even that one time behind the screen.

If Steve died getting his dick jerked off by Y/N L/N, then he'd embrace death with open arms.

The man gave no verbal confirmation. He seemed to snap into the movement of unbuckling himself before your hands shot out and grabbed his wrists.

He blinked up at you, confused by the sudden deterrence in your shared night.

But he just found you smiling back, predatory, as you pushed his hands to his sides. "There's no rush," you grumbled, his chest vibrating against your voice. Your fingers found his buckle and slowly, painfully, pushed the metal through the loop. "This is about you, baby. Just want to make you feel good."

Steve wasn't sure what to do with himself. He'd never really had a woman just want to jerk him off and have him sit pretty. It'd always been the trailing of hands, messy and drunken limbs hitting each other, sloppy strokes on his soft cock, then they'd say the magic words: Can you fuck me, Steve? Please?

All work, no play.

But it didn't feel like that now.

Now, here he was, trying to gain his breath as you slowly worked his jeans off him. The buckle clinked together as you popped the button, then pressed your fingers against the zipper. He hissed at the pressure, a sudden flush of warmth hit his lower body, bucking upwards. It elected a soft laugh out of you and an embarrassed tinge of Steve's cheeks that spread to his neck.

It was only a moment later that Steve hissed as his cock was exposed to the Spring air.

He took deep breaths as his cock came to a rest against his lower abdomen, leaking pre-cum from his tip, and twitching at the simplest of movements. His fingers twitched to make a move, wrap his hand around himself and try to chase the sweet release. But he no chance. Not with you staring at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.

"You're gorgeous," You whispered, pressing a kiss against his lips once again. Using the time to graze his cock with your fingertips, electing a moan from him and a grin from you. "You're so hard. How long have you been waiting, Steve?"

"Mm, I-I, fuck," Steve drew in a breath as his eyes fell to where your fingers just barely grazed him. The way his cock jumped to fall into your hands. It was almost pathetic the way his boy so desperately wanted to fall into yours. The way it wanted to be completely and utterly consumed by your own. "You kept touchin' me....makin' me so fucking- please, god, just touch me."

Your face bloomed into a small grin as Steve groaned, his hands balling into fists by his thighs. He felt that filthy need for you to milk him dry. To have you push him over the edge until he was begging you to let go. Steve wanted to hand over complete control to you. Allow you to just....become a part of him. Just for a bit.

You suddenly licked you hand, your attention now on his cock. You didn't waste a second before you leaned forward, lips on his ear, and wrapped your hand around him and gave a rather jerky stroke.

"Ah, f-fuck," Steve's head fell back and his eyes scrunched to a close. Moans passed his lips as you diligently worked his cock, fingers briefly squeezing his head, making his hips thrust to meet your hand.

Your hand was soft. That wasn't exactly much of a surprise to him, but it felt so good. Your movements were fluid, second nature. Jerking him off was like a hobby. Wrist popping as you gave a rather forceful stroke. Lewd sounds were coming from were you two were connected now. His cock giving wet squelch with the mixture of pre-cum and your spit.

Your teeth briefly nibbled on his lobe, hot breath brushing his skin, and electing a soft mew from him.

You moved down, sloppy and wet kissing against his jaw and neck. "You're so good, Steve." Your whispered, assuredly, against him. He could only whimper in response, lips parted in attempt to catch his breath. "You're so big. Can barely get my hand around you. Look."

Steve didn't even attempt to gain some type of control. His eyes, heavy lidded, opened and stared down at your work. His cock was weeping, a mixture of red and soft pink, the tip leaked with want, pleading for some type of acknowledgement. As if you saw it at the same time as him, you swiped your thumb over his slit, a thin string of pre-cum joining the rest of his cock.

"Jesus, you-you're so, so-" Steve scrunched his face, his hands flexing at his sides once more. His hips pathetically started to rock his hips to follow your movements. You seemingly made no movements to stop him, just giving a squeeze and leaning over him then-

You just spit on him.

His cock was warm and he felt like he could bust at any moment. His lower abdomen burned with the desperate need to release, allow himself to come completely undone. His balls tightened with your strokes and he pleaded with himself to just let it go on a little longer. Don't let him be vulnerable then see your regret and disgust with him.

But your whispers painted a different picture.

"Sometimes I would touch myself and I would think about you." Jesus. Steve wanted to weep. "I would think about you touching me, your fingers inside of me, kissing me all over. I want you so bad, Steve."

"I want you too." Steve whispered back, turning his head to look you in the eye. "I just want to- I'm gonna kiss you."

You offered no response as he pressed his lips against yours once again. Your pace slowed and your grip on his cock softened, but it was still very much there. Your free hand sought out his, fingers trailing over the back of his hand before you grabbed it.

Pressing his fingers against your wet clothed pussy. Steve moaned in your mouth, chasing your lips as you pulled away. "I want to feel you," Your lips brushed against his, eyes staring back. "Want you inside of me."

"I can do that." Steve said dumbly, watching your lips, wanting to capture them again. He licked his own, watching as your eyes trailed the movement. "I-I want to."

You hungrily pressed your lips back together. Steve moaning as he pushed your panties to the side, his middle and ring finger pressed between your folds. Slickness captured his fingers and he spread it from your entrance to your clit, giving a firm roll of his fingers. You groaned in his mouth, your hand around his cock tightened.

Your hips rolled with the movement of his fingers, wet sounds emitting from your pussy as he stroked your clit. Pants from both of your fogging up the windows, pleasurable condensation surrounded them. Hiding them from the outside world as they consumed one another. Steve's cock weeping for release and your pussy leaking onto his fingers.

He pressed his middle finger to your entrance, wasting no time to push inside. He was immediately welcomed with a moan passing from your slack jaw, and walls clenching around him. Steve quietly cursed at the feeling, grunting at the tightening in his own stomach.

"You feel so good." Steve mumbled incoherently, fucking his finger into your pussy. Your just moaned in response, placing lazy kisses against his freckles. "So-so tight and just.... Jesus Christ."

He let his ring finger join his middle, stretching your walls and making you roll your head back. Your strokes on his cock were pretty much non-existent now, but he felt like he was moments away from cumming from the feeling of you alone. You rode yourself on his hand, the butt of his palm brushing against your clit every time his fingers brushed against that sweet spot. A long fuck dragged out of you as you latched a hand on his wrist.

Steve briefly closed his eyes, mouth watering as he took a deep breath. "Y/N, I-I'm going to-" he cut himself off, thrusting upwards sharply.

"Cum for me, Steve."

His vision burst and should did his will. He gave lazy thrusts as cum poured from his cock and onto your hand and his abdomen. Cries of your name tumbled from his mouth in a pathetic release. The head of his cock wept and he twitched in your touch as your moans flooded in his ears. Your walls clenching and releasing in a quick succession. His fingers soaking with your cum, just as his coated your hand.

Both of you panted, lax against the seats, and eyes heavy lidded. Steve slipped his hand from your panties, pulling them back over your pussy to give your some decency. His fingers were coated and slick with your cum, his chest tightening as the events that had just transpired flooded over him He looked to you to find you inspecting your own hand with curiosity. He was half tempted to say sorry. Almost did until your tongue lapped up a large glob of his cum between your thumb and pointer. You smiled at him, tired and amused at his obvious shock.

"Told ya, Stevie, I've been wanting to do this for awhile." You turned your head forward, frowning. "But we did miss the movie."

Steve turned his own eyes towards the screen, finding that the movie had come to an end itself, and somehow the heroes had come out on top. Well, at least, Sigourney Weaver was out on top.

"Well, we were focused on something more important." Steve uttered, eyes trailing back to the cum resting on your hand. "You were really...ah..."

"Hot? Dominating? Amazing?"

Steve snorted at the words, dropping his chin. "Yeah, let's go with those."

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things smut #kinktober #t writes!

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clowncryptids · 9 months

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Im turning my fave Lioden lions into ocs bec I can... here's my main's king <3

Here they are... my beloved purple and pink lion <333

Ive been obsessing over some of my faves from my pride and coming up with fun backstories for them, Willow is the first one who received this treatment... fair since I have spent just soooo much time and beetles on this fawkin cat. I still havent gotten all the markings I want for him oughhhhh T-T

I tried to stay as close as possible to his in game colors and markings though I added a few things, specifically some extra stripes to her face bec it looked boring... maybe I will get him a thrashed face marking .... some day.... its not on the top of the markings I want list....

Anywaysss below is the backstory I came up with for him! I am not at all following what happened in game bec saying "She was bought for 500 SB and I proceeded to replace my old king with them" is boringgggg

Flowering Willow is the 3rd King of the Flowering Pride!

Originally named Chalk, Flowering Willow originated from a much more desolate land, and was born to a pride with a kill or be killed kind of nentality, which Chalk had never bought into. As an adolescent they left to find a better life and pride for themselves. She eventually reached the Flowering Pridelands, an abundant land filled with wild flowering plants and plenty of prey, a place that was almost the complete opposite from his birth home. Chalk was found on the territory by the Flowering Pride's submale (and the king's mate) Birch, who, to Chalk's surprise, happily invited him to stay as long as she needed.

While staying with the pride, Chalk was shaken by the hospitality and kindness of the majority of the Pride members, and they felt that they had finally found others who shared their preference for kindness over violence, which had been a rare trait to come across in Chalk's old home. Chalk felt that she had finally found her home, but they worried that they would not be welcome forever as a king can only care for so many submales. However the King of the pride, a primal named Mangrove Flower, saw great leadership potential in Chalk, and Mangrove had been looking for the prefect heir as he knew he would not be able to lead forever. So Mangrove asked Chalk if he wished to stay in the pride permanently and become Mangrove's heir. Chalk was shocked at this not expecting to be allowed to stay let alone made a heir, but they excepted, happy to serve the pride for the rest of his life. As an official Flowering Pride member, their name was changed to a proper (plant themed) pride name, Willow!

Mangrove Flower sadly passed on early (in gameplay i retired him early lol) and so Willow became the King sooner than she had expected. During their Kinging ceremony, they were named Flowering Willow, a change from the previous kings' names receiving Flower after their original names. This was requested by Mangrove Flower before he died and he believed that Willow becoming king would be the beginning of a new peaceful and stable era for the pride, and he believed that the change to the naming tradition would be symbolic of this.

-----

Overall Flowering Willow is a very kind and calm lion, he prioritizes kindness and fairness over all things and tries to make any lion he comes across (in his pride or not) feel safe and not threatened.... That is unless the lion (or any other creature for that matter) makes themself a threat, because then Willow will not hold back in fighting to protect his pride and territory. Willow though seeming soft and like not much of a fighter is actually every good at battle due to where he grew up and also thanks to Mangrove Flower and Birch's training.

Willow viewed Mangrove and Birch as surrogate fathers, and he was devastated by Mangrove's death. He is extremally close to Birch and deeply appreciates Birch's aid and advice when it comes to leadership.

I havent decided if he has any actual mates, of course he has sired cubs but I havent decided if he is romantically involved with anyone hmmm...

#my art #digital art #oc #lioden #cryptid plays lioden #lioden oc #lioden king #lion oc

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stellar-skyy · 6 months

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MECHANICAL HEART - Platonic Ei & reader

i. SUMMARY: After she discarded her first prototype, Ei created a second. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Dehumanization (is it dehumanization if they aren't technically human?), mentions of abandonment, implied emotional neglect. Ei isn't the best parent in this one tbh. iii. NOTES: Platonic, angst, puppet!reader, gn!reader, 0.8k words. iv. A/N: ok i said i wasn't gonna write this week cause i'm busy but in my defense i've been procrastinating a lot and this is the result.

When Ei sought to create a body to withstand eternity, she didn’t plan to create two prototypes. She only needed one vessel, and any excess was unwelcomed. What she didn’t account for was failing miserably at her first attempt, and having to redesign her plan entirely.

You were the stronger one, if only by a small fraction. You had stared up at her, wide and unblinking, and something changed behind her eyes. She brought you close into her arms—gently, for any more pressure and you might have cracked into two.

It wasn’t quite love. She cared for you the way an inventor cared for their creations, all out of a sense of duty and a desire to preserve what has been so carefully built. There wasn’t a single ounce of maternal affection behind it.

She looked after you of course, like any good inventor would. She’d repair the cracks across your arms and legs, and test each one of your joints to make sure they were in working order. Her hands would trace around your wrists, feeling exactly where the ball-and-socket connected with an unabashed sort of curiosity. You were a source of fascination for her, a wonder of her own invention. How could it be that she created something like you from parts of her inhuman self: eyes glistening with tears that felt real, staring at her with such childish innocence.

You were so human—perhaps even more so than herself—and yet you were completely synthetic.

She didn’t love you. But she held you in her arms and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead when you cried, and was that not close enough? You could forget how cold her lips were on your skin, and try to ignore how limp her hold was, if it allowed you another moment of believing she cared for you.

It was a sort of care, you reasoned. An emotion so raw and tender, one might mistake it for love if they were desperate enough. Deep down, you knew better. You knew that all the love Ei had to share died with her sister. If there was any left, she would have taken pity on the other prototype—your brother.

He was a soft one. Round face, long lashes, hair falling down his back in waves of indigo. His sobs spilled freely from the moment he was created, covering his cheeks in tears. An emotional creature, Ei had called him. Too fragile to rule a nation, too weak to be used as a reference for her final vessel like you had become. Almost as quickly as he’d been created, he was whisked away and out of sight.

“Safekeeping.” She said. She didn’t tell you what that meant, or which corner your brother had been tucked away into.

But even gone, his presence never truly left you; he was always there as a cautionary tale for what could happen if you failed to live up to Ei’s expectations. He was the example, the proof that if you weren’t enough, you would be discarded like the simple puppet you were.

There wasn’t any love in her eyes when she looked at you, but she still spent time at your side. She’d sit with you for hours in the Plane of Euthymia—whether it be out of some misplaced sort of parental instinct, or a deeply rooted guilt at creating you in the first place, you wouldn’t know—not saying much, but content for you to exist within the same space as her.

The entire occurrence felt a touch too normal to feel natural. You were just two inhuman creatures, masquerading as mortals for each other’s sake. She kept the visits brief, and always dismissed you first.

(And if she embraced you as you left, a suspicious glossiness over her eyes, you didn’t comment on it.)

It was observing the humans themselves that made you realize how unlike them you truly were.

They lived so carelessly, talking loudly amongst themselves and living blissfully without the crushing weight of the world on their shoulders. Women would walk with children balanced on their hip or clinging to their hands. They’d ruffle their hair and laugh at their antics, and there was a distinct feeling that you couldn’t quite place. No heart lay in your chest, but there was a phantom heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be treated with such… what was it, love? You had never experienced such a thing, not from the person who acted as your ‘mother’. She could do the exact same things they did, but you would be able to tell there was no emotion behind it.

You were her puppet, her creation. You were born from parts of herself, cobbled together into something resembling a person. And no matter how tightly she held you, no matter how many times she looked at you with an unreadable look across her face, you wouldn’t truly be her child.

It wasn’t love. She made sure you didn’t get it mixed up, telling you bluntly that there wasn’t room for love in eternity.

That didn’t matter. As long as she still took care of you, you could pretend.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic x reader #ei x reader #genshin ei x reader #raiden ei x reader #platonic ei x reader #platonic raiden ei x reader

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444rockstargf · 7 months

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euronymous and reader have a huge fight and euro ends up getting so mad at her that he hits and she starts crying immediately and he feels so bad because he promised her he would never hit her no matter how mad he got anyways he’s like apologizing and kissing her and like carry’s her to their room but she’s still tryna put up a weak fight but she obviously gives up really fast and they just lay in bed while euro holds her and continues to shower her with love and apologies (ik u kind of already made one lik dis but i eat these up everytime mb)

ask & you shall receive (omg i think ive been spelling that wrong the entire time)

"why are you so mean?" | euronymous

meet me in the pale moonlight. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @simply-stellarr

female!reader x euronymous

word count: 888 (lucky number yall)

contents: angst

“why can’t you just listen to me for once?!” you latched onto his arm as he started to storm off. he immediately pushed you off, shoving you back into the wall. “why can’t you try to have a normal conversation?! having to listen to you whine every day has become such a pain in my ass and i’m sick of it!” he snapped back at you.

euronymous had come home after a bad day. you’d tried to cheer him up by cuddling with him for a little, only resulting in you getting pushed off. you’d asked why he was so upset, but that didn’t go so well, and that’s how you got here.

“can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?! i just wanna help you but you keep shutting me out!” he tried to walk away from you again, but you stood in front of him, blocking his path. he stares daggers at you as he speaks his following harsh words. “well maybe i don’t want a whiny little bitch getting all up in my business. ever thought of that?”

you stood there, staring blankly at him. euronymous had gotten mad at you before, but it had never to the point of him insulting you. a wave of anger washed over you. “how could you say that to me?! i’m you’re girlfriend, for crying out loud!” you started backing up from him a little, bracing yourself for a loud response.

his pale cheeks flushed red. “oh yeah? well maybe that’s where i went wrong in the first place! you’re so clingy it’s like i’m not even allowed to breathe when i’m around you!” you noticed that his fists were balled and trembling slightly, but you paid no attention to that. “well maybe if you communicated with me more, we wouldn’t even be having this argument! i feel like you don’t even care about this relationship anymore!”

“you think i dont care? you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. never forget that.” his tone is more cold and bitter than you’ve ever heard before. you think that he might truly mean everything that he’s saying to you, and the thought makes your entire body weak. you feel your heart breaking with every word he says, but manage to get one last thing out. “i wish i never met you! this relationship was a mistake.”

you saw him raise his fist. before you could process another thought, you felt a firm hand strike you right on the cheek, surely leaving a bruise. you fell to the ground, the impact being strong enough to completely throw off your balance. euronymous glared at you as you struggled to get up. “say that again, whore. i dare you.” you managed to stumble up on your feet, holding your cheek gingerly. you looked at him with tear-filled eyes before running off into your bedroom, only catching a glimpse of his regretful expression.

you walked in and slammed the door shut behind you, collapsing onto the ground as you choked out pained sobs. it didn't take half a brain to know that your relationship had been falling apart, but you’d been trying your best to revive things while they could still be saved. but maybe you were screwed from the very beginning and didn’t even know.

your thoughts were interrupted by a gentle, almost nervous knock on the door. you weren’t in the mood to talk. “go away.” your voice was raspy and slightly muffled. “angel… please…” you couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded like he was crying. you sighed, standing up and walking over to the bed, sitting down with your arms crossed.

he opened the door, sheepishly peeking his head through the crack. he met your angry gaze with one of pain and regret. he slowly walked in, closing the door behind him. he couldn’t look directly at you as he sat beside you on the bed, but you could tell that the argument was killing him on the inside. “...i’m sorry…” he whispered so softly that you could barely hear him.

he scoops you up into his arms, planting a soft kiss on the place where he hit you. you were still giving him the cold shoulder, refusing to let him think that you had forgiven him. he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you like you were a fragile bird that had fallen out of its nest. you refused to even look in his direction, but the way he peppered soft little kisses all over you made it difficult to stay so mad at him.

you half glanced at him, but that was all it took to bring a little smile onto his face. he laid down, pulling you on top of him as he kissed your forehead. “i know i’m an asshole. i’m so sorry for what i did… i-i didn’t mean to break my promise…” his voice broke midway through the sentence.

you sigh, looking down. he looks at you directly in the eye. “i’ll never hurt you like that again. i swear it.” the way his voice shook told you how much he feared losing you. you rested your head on his chest, hearing his heart racing. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him and letting you know that he would never let anyone hurt you again.

author's note: this was a little rushed, im sorry :(( and it was in my drafts for a long long time. but i hope you liked it :)) xoxo

#rory culkin #euronymous #lords of chaos #lana del rey #444rockstargf

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sugar-omi · 10 months

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Could I please request hc or a drabble about Cove as a new parent with a female MC? Thank you! ❤️

its your lucky day (aka you've asked smth ive been thinking abt for days LOL) bc ive written hc's and drabbles <333 although mostly messy hc's that are in no coherent order also I think I will come back n write more coherent n specific scenarios bc I have sm thoughts on cove through parenthood.... pls tysm for this ask I hope it's satisfactory bc i wrote in order of my thoughts LOL

tags : fluff, AFAB reader, after step 3/wedding dlc, "options" for 1 or 2 babes (if you hc triplets im praying for u🙏), no gender mention of the babe/s, birth surrogacy n adoption are up for imagination but pregnancy/surrogacy is most implied altho i think you could imagine adopting a baby before they're born bc ik some ppl do that

synopsis : how cove acts when you have your first kid & a bit on how he is raising them with you <3

many many candid shots of cove holding the baby

PLEASE tell me someone recorded near the end of the birth/when they brought you the babe

he's crying. no matter what he's crying his fuckin eyes out

if you're giving birth please either have him wait outside n come in to cut the cord at the end bc he might faint

if you do have him in the room he'll be on his best behavior. will try his best not to worry too much bc he knows it could stress you out

(I'm thinking abt this video I saw where the wife said her husband fainted n fell back into this rolly office chair n just rolled to the back of the room into the dark side (it was apparently a long room lollll))

if you're in for a long labor or it's pretty short he's more calm bc either it's over before he can freak out or it's so fuckin long he's over it LOL

he's more of a solid, physical support than anything else because he's not too good with words but also he dosn't want you to feel pressured, annoyed, or smth with constant "you got this!" "its okay!" as you're pushing out a whole human, its not a simple task

[video 1]

COVE: so little... COVE: (looks at his mom/dad) are they supposed to be this small? (watery laugh)

is very scared to hold the babe, he's a big guy, with or without the muscles so he's always gentle with them even once they get bigger

definitely texts his dad during the pregnancy/surrogacy/adoption process "I hope i can be a good dad like you"

cliff getting a text from cove at 3am: "ty for raising me idk how you did it omg"

cliff is crying n flying over there immediately

!!!! if you need someone to help you adjust cliff is on the fuckin way!!! you can't even finish asking bc he's alrdy here, whatever you need guys!!!!

but if you want to be alone to bond w the babe or you hire a professional to help with the transition then he or your moms will come over and clean up, prepare food, and allows you to come home and not worry about getting things done.

dies if the kid has his hair color or eyes, like at first he just finds it crazy that he's a dad n that he has a lil spawn of his own

also lots of pictures of cliff playing w the babe/s

we all know cove can be lazy with his hair, but he doesn't want his kid going to school w crazy hair so he learns

at first it looks like a mess

n if you keep your hair short or can only do smth simple, its time to call your ma or lee for help LOL

imagine cove standing by your ma as she's showing him how to braid... so sweet

cove is tip-toeing through the house, trying to shake off his outside clothes quietly and when he walks back into the room after brushing his teeth he's greeted with the sweet sound of his baby's giggle

you are sound asleep.

you and the other babe are sound asleep.

he shushes the baby, easing himself into the bed. suddenly he thinks that spending all that money on this big bed was worth it, especially with the way his achy body sinks into it.

"cove?..."

he reaches over the babe/s. "sorry.. did I wake you?"

you hum, it's not a yes or a no, just a sleepy sound and he laughs at how out of it you are even though you're trying to fight it, stroking your face and carding his fingers through your hair.

"I love you.. thank you." he whispers. this moment is so delicate. he worries a bit that if he speaks too loud it'll be gone and he'll wake up in his teenage bedroom, staring at the bottom of his scratched up bunk bed.

"f'what?" you blink slowly.

"for everything..." he grins softly, thinking about that night

of your wedding, when you told him you wanted kids with him.

after the ORCA fundraiser dinner, when you asked him if he imagined having kids with you.

"we made it. that future we talked about..."

you smile softly, more awake now. "thanks for making it with me."

he laughs, muffins his face in the pillow and resting a hand on the baby, willing them not to wake. "how can you thank me for that?"

you grin, more sleepy than anything but still full of mischief.

"how can you thank me for getting me pregnant?" you giggle at your husband's flustered face.

"how can you thank me for being here like I promised years later?" you tease, bringing up night of the fundraiser.

cove flushes, burying his face in the babies hair instead of answering you.

he puts an arm around you, careful of the little one/s between you. "just go to bed..."

gb lady said cove is sahd material.....

omg he makes them lunch always, or he at least helps you make lunch because his cooking skills are a bit limited and they'd prbly have star shaped sandwiches and applesauce everyday

HE HAS A THING TO PUT THE BABE IN WHILE HE DOES HOUSE SHIT

your kids are definitely cuddles bc of him, he always picks em up, and if he doesn't have a carrier than he'll make a makeshift one out of a blanket.

omg imagine him and the kid/s at the dining table crying tryna figure out the homework

"its getting worse y/n!!!" "what the fuck is common core math?!" "babe call the teacher, something is missing here..."

if you're bad at math or smth too than you're all fucked n your kid/s AND COVE are facetiming his dad for a long distance tutoring lesson

he's reading them books every night

HE gets upset when it doesn't happen

"babe we gotta turn around, I only read them 5 books we're gonna be gone 6 nights."

FaceTime them every night you're away just the two of u

falls asleep w the kids in the weirdest positions

why is there a princess crown on his head and where did the face paint come from????

spoils the kid/kids. you're gonna go bankrupt please stop!!!

when your kid/s finally graduate n move out on their own, he thanks his dad for raising him and teaching him how to be the best dad.

also thanks you for just being amazing n reassuring him whenever he worried abt doing something wrong

if you have more than 1, he's a master by baby 2/3

COVE: (holding fresh baby, whispering) ....why is it so red

raising you kid/s w cove is tough at first, cove worries about doing some wrong or failing as a parent.

and he did eventually admit he was worried about raising his kid/s in a "broken" home. his parents did their best! and he loves them, but the split was hard for him and he doesn't want them to go through the same feelings.

every day is a new experience in your house to say the least

I imagine it's filled w lots of worry, love, and tears

COVE N HIS KID/S HAVE A CRY COUNT

(cove is losing somehow?! he's been out crybaby-ed)

#our life: beginnings & always #olba #cove holden #cove holden x reader #cove x mc #cove x reader #cove our life #our life cove #cove holden fluff #cove holden x mc

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bonebabbles · 6 months

Text

God the new ultimate guide sucks

It's not JUST the awful art, either. The art's just worth mentioning because even if the book's info had been terrible or contained nothing new, really cute art can make it still worth having.

But, no, it's even full of recycled lines we've been hearing for years like "Bramblestar Can Match Squirrelflight's Fire Not Contain It," and that's when it DOES get everything right. These entries leave out major, important details (making them bad summaries) and are sometimes even straight-up incorrect.

SUMMARY THOUGHTS

Leafpool is said to have watched Brambleclaw kill Hawkfrost to save Firestar-- but for one, no, she was not there because Ashfur was still leading her and Squilf towards the scene. For two, no, Brambleclaw did not kill Hawkfrost just to save Firestar, it was self-defense. Hawkfrost had him pinned and was going to kill him.

They're REAL cute about Leafpool's death, too, neglecting to mention WHY the Sisters needed to be saved at all and just saying Leafpool's "generosity" lead to her death in that cave-in.

I'm not even going to get into everything on Bramble's entry jesus christ.

Sagewhisker's entry is ESPECIALLY fucken' dandy, framing Yellowfang's Secret like she was simply waiting patiently for Yellow to realize her 'destiny' and not actively shoving it on her at every opportunity.

Leopardstar's entry states that romantic interest in Tigerstar was part of her motivation. "Perhaps she'd hoped he would be her mate" please speak to a woman irl for once in your life.

Gray Wing's entry forgot that the reason he "blamed himself" for Bright Stream's death is because he was literally staring at his big strong brother too much and tripped on a root in front of him. It IS his fault she died.

Clear Sky/Skystar's entry is just obscene. "He regretted abandoning his son and after a fire, he encouraged him to live with him" instead of "saw his teenage child was useful now and bullied and belittled the kid and his uncle into letting Thunder come with him." "Retaining his fierceness towards his cats and outsiders which caused his son to leave" instead of "murdering, brutalizing, and abusing everyone around him caused Thunder to leave." I'll just say this tho; "Fierce" is an interesting way to spell "Cruel."

It's interesting that they don't point out that a major part of Jagged Peak's arc was proving he was "Just As Good" as every other cat in spite of his disability, thanks to his introduced-and-pregnant-in-the-same-book wife becoming his life coach, only earning Clear Sky's respect after being allowed to physically lead a patrol in Blazing Star. Instead they frame him finding his place through taking care of kits, which... was something he seemed to resent in the actual series, considering how the books suddenly treat Gray Wing's protective treatment of him as a terrible thing in Blazing Star because he "didn't give him a chance". But at the same time I actually strongly dislike Jagged Peak and his messy, frustrating character arc so I'm not really UPSET with it. Just... noting it. I suppose this is the official direction they're taking away from it?

Shadowstar's entry is barely even 3 paragraphs yikes.

SHORT STORY THOUGHTS

And if you're wondering if the 4 brand new stories they smooshed into the end in a desperate attempt to make the rush job worth buying are good? No. Of course not. They're all slop.

Story 1: Firestar and Graystripe

First one's a marginally cute story about Graystripe and Firestar which is setting up the framing device linking the mini-tales together. They both remember this situation where Firestar fell into a ditch wrong. The punchline is that Thunderstar remembers it perfectly and they're both like, "WOW! Too bad Thunderstar's memory sucks!"

It's not terrible, but it does feel a bit pointless. But, hey, if you want more Firestar and Graystripe in the series that tosses them fanservice at every turn, who am I to judge?

Story 2: Dovewing and Ivypool

The next one is the Dovewing/Ivypool reconciliation passage everyone's talking about. It's... fine, but immensely dissatisfying to me.

Dovewing is apparently having problems adjusting to her Clan, grapples a little bit with the fact she has no friends but is going to be finding meaning in helping tigerHeartstar "bring the new ShadowClan into existence." She ultimately decides that she needs to talk to her sister, and begs for reassurance that Ivypool believes in her, feeling that her support can help her get through this difficult time in her life.

I think its biggest problem is that Dovewing was not the right choice for the POV here.

Dove was never the one responsible for the rift in their relationship. Ivypool is. Ivypool is the one who was jealous, willing to sabotage anything that would put Dovewing closer to Tigerheart, and continues to be generally aggressive towards her. So when Dovewing is reaching out to Ivypool in hopes of them reconciling, it feels wrong because Ivypool is the one that should be reaching out to Dovewing. SHE is the one who has some things to apologize for, and to show how much she loves and misses her.

It's even kind of frustrating, because Dovewing can never catch a break. She has to have these problems to force her to reach out, Ivypool even ends up suggesting that she leave and come home and take her kids with her, but in the end even a LITTLE bit of assurance from her aggressive sister helps.

I feel super bad for Dovewing, man. She deserves better than this cheap writing. What was the point of such an unsatisfying, rushed reconciliation, shoved into a crummy field guide, when we KNOW from the newest book that they're just going to use tension between them as part of the drama anyway?

shouldn't have even been written, imo. Even ends off with, "They'll always have each other :)" which is so... cliche. It's TIRED. Are any of you really happy with just getting a retconned platitude in a good-for-nothing field guide, instead of seeing complicated, INTERESTING feelings in a main book?

Story 3: Alderheart and Twigbranch

A tale of Cherryfall getting sick during TBC and Alderheart sneaks back into the territory to treat her. Also Crowfeather has a scene where he yells at him. Charming.

Twigbranch comes up with a diversion while Alderheart does his work, which is cute. It's a fine story.

Story 4: Clear Sky

Trash. Three dogs spawn in the middle of a gathering so that Skystar can have an uwu big boy sendoff saving his grandkit. Then he goes to StarClan and throws a fit because they can't give him ANOTHER life, becoming so upset that he attacks the nearest woman. Naturally, Shadowstar brushes it off because it's not the first time Clear Sky has pummeled her in the midst of an adult tantrum and this book series thinks violence is fine if their favorite sadboy does it.

Then Gray Wing brings him to the magic mirror pool where you can see the living, to confirm that Star Flower is ok and that makes him feel better.

Then it launches into Firestar saying "ouuuugh yum I LOVE the taste of his butthole. Clear Sky is so misunderstood, He Just Loved Too Much."

to which Graystripe responds, "Yes, he was a good and amazing person and his farts smells SO good, and can you believe that some people think StarClan punished his Clan for his arrogance? As if he ever did anything wrong, ever?"

Firestar, indignant, refutes it with, "Ugh!! StarClan would NEVER be interesting, we don't punish living cats we just float around and make vague, frustrating prophecies that do nothing but pad the word count. Why cant ppl understand that, gosh."

who wrote this? Gray Wing??

#The amount of passive voice Clear Sky has to be surrounded with in order to look like a redeemable character is dizzying #I feel like I'm reading a headline about cops who blew up an orphanage every time I read anything official about him #oh wait im sorry. A ''high-pressure accident which occurred at a government institution with 3 officers present'' lmaooooo #ultimate field guide #bone babble #im actually REALLY glad actually they havent been making these #This was garbage #There were a few good things in this but overall? Absolute slop. I wouldn't even feed this to a pig.#I think this is actually down there with Cats of the Clans (with Rock) for worst field guide #This is abysmal #You would be better with the wiki summaries and the 4 stories are mid at best #What a shame that they re-pivoted so hard from Riverstar's SE which I was JUST praising for tossing out that shitty ''redemption arc''#Nope. We're right back to square one.#How much do you guys wanna bet it's ONE writer who's OBSESSED with Clear Sky and every time he writes anything he does this #I'm not sure who wrote this one but let's see if my hunch is right lmao

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liloinkoink · 5 months

Note

as someone who also has so much homework to do. what are your thoughts on treesekai ren (speaking of treesekai, i actually sent that fic to a friend like a year ago who doesn't watch hermitcraft etc and i remember we had fun reading it and giggling over the anime of it all so tysm for that ♡)

i am no longer doing homework so i can share thoughts. it is almost 3am tho so idk theyll be coherent

first im glad you two enjoyed it! dont know how i feel about the fact it's breached containment but it is good to know it holds up

[speaking of, this fic was posted a year ago, so if you dont know what treesekai is, here is the link for you]

second i think all the time about just how lonely treesekai Ren is. ive made posts like this before but Ren is just... he's so lonely. Ren is a character with a lot of love in him, always. he always wants someone to care about. often many someones! he gravitates towards big loyal teams, and he usually spends his time at home building a place for that team to be protected and safe, and is willing to die to defend that home (and he has. twice.)

dogwarts was a big team whose loyalty he took seriously and whose home he died to defend. the shadow alliance had matching skins and, until they went red, all ren's loyalty, and their base of operations was one of the last bases standing bc Ren continually put it back together for his teammates. Ren and BigB died on the doorstep of of box, with ren's last words being about defending it. home and the people in it are important to him

treesekai Ren is the same, but he doesnt really have anywhere to point it. he has a home, but what matters to Ren about a home is that theres people in it. he loves the country he rules but he thinks if he does that hard enough he'll have someone, and he just doesnt. he assumes he can trust his staff, thinks he'll be able to make alliances with other nations, hopes his fiance will be that person he needs. but he isnt! and Ren cant trust him! or his staff! or other royalty! no one else in the world cares about him! many of the people close to him ultimately want him dead!

so, in the game, he ends up paranoid, and he ends up evil, and he ends up dead

but in the fic he meets Martyn, and he gets that connection and affection and care hes been looking for all this time. and like. it fascinates me how much Martyn doesnt know how much hes changed ren's life. Ren isnt evil for nothing--above all he's lonely and hurt. by saving him from loneliness, Martyn saves his life. he could abandon the game plotline then and there, completely forgoing all the normal isekai tropes of running thru every event w future knowledge and picking the best possible outcome, and Ren would no longer die. just by being there and sincerely caring for Ren, Martyn has already achieved the best of all possible worlds. and he doesnt even know it!

i just. i love how lonely he is and how simple he is. he just wants to be loved. he just wants to love someone. he's a dating sim character, after all, and that's the whole point, isn't it? his world exists just so the people in it can be loved, and he's not allowed to have any of that. if youd just give him a romance, he'd be more than happy to be a love interest instead, but he isnt! he isnt allowed! no wonder he loses it. on some level, maybe he knows hes being denied the fundamental purpose for existence in his universe

this is rambly bc its rlly late but im just. it must hurt more than anything to be the one character in a world about love who is meant to be completely unlovable

#oink asks #anonymous #treesekai

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sudsyv2 · 1 year

Text

Yeah I think about ghoap confessing to each other and while I would love for it to be incredibly wholesome and shit-

I do sometimes think about where one of them almost dies, or just gets seriously injured and the other is angry. And they confront the other about it and it just turns into an argument. Which leads to an angry and emotional confession.

“Why do you care so much?”

“How could I not.”

AND UGH I EAT THAT UP EVERYTIME I SEE IT IN A FIC YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA.

I can see soap being the one getting injured and ghost just feeling overwhelmed. For the first time, he’s finally formed a connection. A bond. A strong bond and the person he formed it with was almost taken away from him. It makes him mad. He was told soap wasn’t allowed visitors, which he didn’t bother listening to. Anyways here’s ghost pacing to where soaps hospital room is, bursting in, not even caring to listen to the nurses and doctor ordering him to leave. Eyes scanning the whole room till he sees soap. Laying there and looking up at the ceiling. If ghost didn’t know any better he’d think soap was still laying lifeless on the rubble. Nevertheless be makes it to soaps bedside.

Ghost looks down at soap, the emotion on his face indiscernible even with how well soap knew the man. His eyes raking up from the multiple bandages to the iv sticking in his right arm.

“What do you want?” Soap asked, it was meant to be lighthearted but he was under a lot of pain it just came out strained.

Ghost had so much to say, so much and still he had no clue what to start with.

‘Why did you do that’

‘You could’ve gotten killed’

‘You’re hurt’

‘Please’

Phrases and sentences ran through his mind, his mouth went dry and he could feel soaps stare boring into him.

“You didn’t listen to my orders, MacTavish.”

Soaps usual smile was long gone. His face resembled one of a stranger. Ghost couldn’t even see the usual shine in soaps beautiful eyes. Ghost cursed himself, it was already to late to go back. He almost flinched when he heard soap do a deep inhale.

“I did what I had to do.” Soap said, a serious tone immediately taking over the once light hearted air.

“What you did was idiotic.” Ghost replied.

“I saved your arse. I got your six, remember us saying that to each other? What I did was the better choice.” Soap felt red in the face, he wasn’t one to get angry at a ‘friend’ (😉) so quickly. But with the obnoxious pain from his injuries and the growing headache he couldn’t help it.

“You should’ve done the right choice.” Ghosts eyebrows knitted together. He wanted to look into soaps eyes but he was scared.

“That so called right choice would be you having to die.” Soap said, frustration clear in his voice.

“It would’ve been better that way.” Ghost turned his head to face the wall. Not daring to look anywhere near soap.

“No it wouldn’t. How would you know?” Soap said, if he could he’d stand up and punch ghost.

“I would know because you wouldn’t be on that bed. You wouldn’t be the one to take my injuries. I should’ve been the one.” Ghost said. His voice low and almost sad

“Why do you care so much?” Soap asked, well more like commanded. If he spoke any slower it would be obvious that he was going to tear up from frustration.

“How could I not?” Ghost finally looked at soap. His voice low.

ANYWAYS! got carried away there 😁

Btw the ending is that they kiss and make up and confess-

#sudsyv2 #ghoap #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soap cod #ghost cod #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #john soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #sorry I’m rambling-#just missing my boys rn 😔#also kinda tldr 🤭

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mossmurdock · 7 months

Text

MORE THAN LIVING

✿ ao3 ✿

geto suguru/reader

summary: A year of retirement from being a jujutsu sorcerer finally pushes you to call someone you willed yourself to leave behind. Groceries are bought, a meal is shared, teeth are bared inches from skin, and hands are held back from tearing apart. Reunions have never been either of your strong suits.

tags: Mentioned Gojo Satoru, Mentioned Ieiri Shoko, Mentioned Nanami Kento, Mentioned Haibara Yu, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Codependency, Pining, but make it gross and a little scary, Past Relationship(s), Complicated Relationships, blood and teeth and love

notes: hello! thank you for reading. this one took some time but im liking it lots. suguru is so fun to write for, ive really liked exploring him so far. always feel free to leave any questions or comments, they always make me happy!

Resigning from jujutsu society is easy enough to have you second-guessing yourself. It frightens you a little, how easy the process is; you almost turn to the nearest suit to ask if this is really allowed.

Sign here, don’t forget to perform an exit interview tomorrow afternoon, and make sure to resubmit all the cursed tools you may have checked out of the armoury; negligence to do so will be considered a severe infraction. Remember that you can always come back to us.

In the span of a day, you quietly retire at the age of twenty. The first thing you do is your laundry. The dried blood washes out nicely enough; you throw away the uniform all the same.

Retired life is easy. You eat, you drink, and you try to live. Maybe you dream about killing. You rise out of bed every morning without sparing a glance at your hands until you’ve reached the bathroom and thoroughly scrubbed them in the sink. It makes you remember him as a clean slate, something you never touched.

It really is no use, you think of him all the same, but tradition only dies with someone.

A year into this and you still manage to forget to go grocery shopping at the end of each month. You’ve once more run out of money for takeout and the fridge has been empty for two weeks. All that sits inside are bottles of your favorite drink and the brand of candy Satoru handed you the night you retired. It was his favorite so naturally he thought it was your favorite too.

The candy is too sweet and too waxy, but you shove it down for breakfast before starting your day. The bag is empty before you know it, light enough in your hand to be blown away with a breath. You lick at the sugar stuck to your lips before trading the empty bag for your phone.

This should feel like a horrible idea, but your hands all too eagerly wrap around the frame of your phone, the pads of your finger pressing into the screen like they were meant to leave marks on skin. You pretend you aren’t sure what it is about this morning that has you wanting to hear his voice.

The ring only echoes once.

“Suguru,” you greet familiarly. He had always said your voice came out scratchy over the phone, arguing with you for years about getting a new one because he never heard you clearly when you delivered information about missions. You argued that it was just the way he chose to hear you. Eventually, you both settled on messaging each other instead. You wonder if you sound any different now, if he’s even searching for that sort of thing after so long.

He says your name back. So neutral that it's polite, so detached from himself that you’re starting to think he might be back to normal. Your mind flashes to the night of your retirement, the awkward shapes of his hands, and how they’d tried to bite into the fat of your arms: desperate. It feels important to remember that you couldn’t completely decipher him in your last moments.

It’s been a year since then.

“Come shopping with me,” you propose. “I’ll cook for you.”

You never cooked much in your life, things never exactly called for that sort of thing. Though, Haibara would always praise you for your simple meals. The two of you had picked up the nasty habit of heading to bed too late, often caught in meaningless conversations in the kitchen.

Suguru has never had any of your cooking before, always so polite to refuse.

“Is retired life really that lonely so soon?” he asks.

“You sound like Satoru,” you note, more to yourself than anything, but you’re aware of how it will irk him.

“It was just a simple question.” An unkind one, but he chooses not to mention that part when he pauses and lets a silence hang in the static. “I can find some time to come along, but there’s no need to cook for me.”

To anyone, it would seem like he’s saying it to be kind, but, deep down, he says it so that he can get away from you more quickly. The idea of him sharing a meal with you sticks to the front of your mind all the same.

You pick at the leftover candy stuck between your teeth with your tongue and swallow the leftover pieces away. “Ok,” you say. “I’ll send my address.”

“Alright,” he bids simply. Then, almost as a calculated afterthought, “See you.”

“See you.”

You hang up and maybe that’s finally living.

The pants you decide on wearing tend to drag along the floor even after you cuff them. They’re well-loved because you take good care of them. There’s a stain on the left side of the waistband, a mended hole in one of the pockets, and the fabric is soft enough to want to drown in. They weren’t always yours, it’s what makes them even better.

The sky is gray tonight and matches the color of Suguru’s loose shirt well. You bite down the urge to tell him he looks good, and that the two of you are matching. It would have been easier over the phone, with him not being able to hear your voice as much as your own. He could mistake you as a stranger and start all over again instead of seeing something so rundown and full and yet completely barren.

“The supermarket’s only open for another hour, let’s be quick and not inconvenience the workers.” Suguru walks through the automatic doors and is immediately illuminated by the fluorescent lights. The bags under his eyes are highlighted enough to seem like they were painted on. The suggestion is more of his polite code: Let’s make this quick so we can head back to our separate lives.

Because how wrong of you was it to have called him after an entire year of no contact? How wrong was it to want to have the weight of his arm against yours while you both stared at different kinds of produce you aren’t able to afford? You wanted to see him again. You want to ask why he looks so tired, why he keeps looking down at your shoes and not at your eyes.

Why is it that ever since leaving all you have been able to do properly is reminisce? You must have forgotten how to make anything new of yourself, how to hold anything softly.

“Hey.” You find Suguru in the candy aisle. He’s staring at the same brand of candy you grabbed out of your fridge this morning. “I’m ready to leave. You done?”

Despite your words, he doesn’t move, and you only walk to stare at the rows with him. It’s colorful, full of bright cyans, electric yellows, and eye-straining magentas. It’s almost funny, the way the two of you look so dull in comparison; the gray of his shirt and the black of your sweats are bland in comparison.

Your arm extends against your will, grabbing a random brand and unceremoniously chucking it into your own hand-held basket. You then reach again to pick Satoru’s favorite flavor and gently place it into Suguru’s.

If he looks at you any differently, you miss it completely while turning toward the cashier.

Suguru must forget about not accompanying you back to your apartment. The way he extends his hand out for you to offer him the keys is natural and fluid.

He had carried your grocery bags along with his own the entire walk back, silent, only looking back at you when he was unsure of where to go. The only words out of you were directions, niceties, and asking if he’s sure about carrying all those bags for so long feels out of place. You’ve seen him lift heavier with just one finger.

The sound of the door closing should shift something in the atmosphere, it should make things feel heavier. The sound of it locking should have you wondering why this man is in your house, why this stranger has invited himself in. You catch his eye as you're slipping off your shoes. He’s in your kitchen, organizing things like he belongs there, like this is his hundredth time visiting instead of his first. Your grocery bags are already separated from his and halfway into the fridge. Your shared look is just that: shared, nothing else, and nothing more.

The two of you fall into preparing a meal without noticing.

Your rice cooker is ancient and covered in stickers that have no coherent theme. What looks like hundreds of awful renditions of cartoon characters you no longer recognize and fading “THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING WITH US!” labels cover the appliance like armor. It makes it look even more aged. You push down the itch to scratch away at them, telling yourself you don’t want to deal with all that leftover sticky residue. But really, you just like to remember who placed them there.

The cloudy water of the washed rice pours out into the sink loudly. You hear Suguru cutting something but don’t remember giving him a knife or a cutting board. He must have found them on his own. The both of you move around each other like second nature.

He’s cutting the sausage he bought into small slices. They look like red blood cells.

“Planning on cooking those?” It’s the first thing you say after what feels like hours.

“You never ate them raw,” he recalls. He’s right. You find a pan for him and place it on the small stove. But before he can turn anything on you stop him.

“The smell. It’ll get in your hair,” you caution. Have you been speaking in whispers this entire time?

Suguru only brushes his bangs aside, not looking at you as he slides the cut-up meat into the pan and lets the stove warm. “I’ll just shower after. You have one, don’t you?”

You’re struck dumb for only a second; the eggs you’re whisking are beginning to foam up from your non-stop whisking. “Ok then.” Your voice comes out a little flat.

The both of you end up with bowls of food and on the couch. Rice and eggs and cut sausage. It reminds you of being in school. Your tiny television feels like a much-needed buffer, there's a movie playing that you two have watched at least ten times already. You put it on purposefully because it leaves room to talk.

When your bowl is half empty, Suguru finally picks up the conversation by the arms and drags it from one grave to another. It distracts you from the fact that he’s hardly touched his own food.

“The apartment suits you,” he compliments.

“Does it?” It’s rhetorical, but you know he’ll give half of an elaboration.

He hums, makes a point of looking around and then at you. “It's nice.”

“I am nice,” you agree.

“A little selfish, too,” he adds bluntly. “But yes, nice.”

And there’s that word. Selfish. After years of the word lingering at the edge of your tongue, he ripped it away from you in a breath, like it was never yours.

“That’s alright. I like the sound of both.” You set your half finished bowl of food on the coffee table, next to the old bag of candy you completely forgot to trash this morning.

You look at him. His expression is back on the screen. He’s glowing and you’re trying to remember how to look at him normally, not like he’s just dropped from the sky and offered you a ride home.

“Is that why you think I left, because I’m selfish?” you ask. The taste of that candy sticks into the roof of your mouth.

He stirs, still not looking at you. When he speaks you barely hear any of the sound or dialogue playing on your TV. “I think leaving was the best way for you to forget.”

“No,” you correct. The tremor in your voice finally has him turning. The left side of his face is lit up by a scene you have memorized. The protagonist is on the verge of tears as she is forced to choose between love and power. The people around her are yelling about which one they want her to choose. The coloring of the terrain she is stuck in splashes across Suguru’s face like paint. You can make out the trees and the sky on his skin, the blood on the protagonist’s hands stands out the most on his cheeks. She will choose love, and it might kill people.

“Selfishness had something to do with it, but I never wanted to forget anyone.” You look at him, pushing him to look back before confessing. “I never wanted to forget what you were before me.”

You remember countless late nights and even earlier mornings, the way your hands felt after a difficult day, Satoru making you laugh so unexpectedly that you coughed up blood, Suguru handing you a tide pen to get the mess off your uniform sleeves. You remember the streamers that were hung up when Haibara and Nanami were introduced as first years, the confetti you had to pick out of Shoko’s hair.

You burned your bloodied uniform the first day you left but kept the buttons. You kept all the clothes Suguru let you borrow and you pretended to forget to give them back. An old digital camera sits on your bedside table, filled with photos of Suguru and the mundane. Of him simply walking ahead of you, having a conversation with someone else, of his wrists, his eyes, of him smiling, of him sleeping: just him. Maybe that’s when your hands started to itch a little more; could anyone blame you for wanting to reimagine the circumstances a little?

The sewn initials of Suguru’s name scratch at your ankle, the pants had become uncuffed since the walk back from the grocery store. The tag is branded into the fabric forever, having survived multiple wash cycles at your laundromat. Moving to tuck your legs beneath your weight, you swiftly cuff them again and watch him catch the movement. He hadn’t been staring at your shoes. Before he turns his head, you catch him biting his lip with enough force to draw blood.

Hypocrites, both of you.

Your eyes swerve back to the bag of candy, crumpled and a husk of what it used to be. You ravaged it after a year of letting it sit in your fridge, after a year of only remembering. You wish Suguru could have seen you do it. Maybe you did kill something today. Would a softer love be easier to reject?

When he gets up from his seat, it startles you. He takes both bowls to the kitchen. The realness of his body has you somewhat hyperaware, too mindful of the fact that he’s no longer a picture at the top of your desk drawer. You watch him like a movie, afraid of missing a detail and wishing so terribly that you could reach out to him like it was nothing; lunge out just to keep him in your hands. The faucet turns on and it nearly sounds like the beginning of an abstract soundtrack, like someone behind the scenes finally realized that only hearing your voices amongst the silence of the room was too overwhelming.

“You sounded different on the phone.” He speaks over the white noise of the running water. If you didn’t know any better you might have missed the way he masked his voice. It’s almost funny; nostalgia always seemed like something too juvenile for him to entertain. Mature Suguru: you’ll never catch him looking back at the camera when he’s walking away.

“What was different?” you ask, basked in a suspense that has you reeling.

The faucet cuts and you see Suguru’s shoulders tense up over the sink. His palms dig into the metal, and you can’t see it, but you imagine he’s gripping the edge of the counter tightly enough to leave a brand, heated with his youth.

Then his shoulders drop, you aren’t sure where his energy goes, if he’s just pushed it somewhere else or if it expelled from him in a way you couldn’t see. He moves back to the couch, back to you. You twist your body then, meeting him halfway, your ribs digging into the hard back of your cheap furniture. You feel like a siren calling him out to sea, except what you’re offering isn’t anywhere near as pretty, and he actually might be drowning without your help.

His hands, large and wet, cup around your damp cheeks. His thumb brushes at something underneath your eye and things are more right than they are wrong, not perfect, but right.

“You sounded like you missed me,” he says finally. His head is bowed, inches from your own and you can sense the sincerity on his lips, the subtle catch in his breath before his eyes squeeze shut and he continues. “Apologize.”

“For what?” you whisper, not challenging, simply begging for a chance to do it perfectly.

He finally looks at you dead on, the color of his eyes going dark with the rest of the room: they’re infested with you.

“For a while, it really did feel like I had everything figured out,” he says instead. His thumb doesn’t stop its insistent caress, his hands have begun to dry onto your skin. “If you had called sooner, I might have thought of you less.”

Your ribs hurt, a dull pain that you’re sure has made your chest red. And Suguru, his neck must hurt from bending down this low. All of this is very taxing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize.

“Don’t,” he chokes out, even though he had just told you the opposite. His forehead collides with your own and your noses brush against each other. His eyes glide, pulled by a gravity you know too well, and land on your lips. His hands have cupped over your ears and tangled in your hair.

Suguru kisses you like he’s starved and you kiss back. He drags your bottom lip through his teeth, something you’d only seen in movies. Things are wrong, things are right, and things aren’t perfect; you’re afraid your hands have been drenched in blood, a permanent splatter of paint. They’re hidden underneath your own weight, trapped, held back until Suguru’s hand leaves your face and melts into the curve of your neck; he drags you impossibly closer, enough to have you nearly falling.

“Your hands,” he demands softly, almost dazed. “Hold onto me.”

But you feel just as drunk, so what comes out of your mouth is protest, completely contradictory of your body throwing itself onto him and letting him lift you over the wall of the couch and onto your feet. He kisses you while you’re up in the air, while you’re half in the middle of your sentence, while your hands wrap around his neck for support and squeeze. All of it’s engulfing enough to have you spinning at the thought of his strength. You never used to think of it much.

“I think I might be killing you,” you warn him deliriously, once he leaves enough room for you to breathe.

You think he might have not heard you if not for the look you catch on his face. Suddenly— alarmingly—it becomes so full of love that it feels like you’re being devoured whole. You don’t know how you’ve missed this starved expression for so long. It matches the intent of your hands: both are guilty, both are lovers, and both are a little violent.

“Yeah,” he replies hoarsely. He says it plainly, like you’ve just told him the weather, like you’re not obviously holding back from touching him again.

“Yeah?” you echo, a little more than mocking at his answer.

“Yes,” he replies more formally. His face pulls away from yours, and all his bending makes you forget how tall he really is. He grips your arms and puts some distance between the two of you, it feels like miles. There’s that bite in his hands again, awkward, too wretched for even him to hold onto on his own. “I don’t want to stop,” he declares. His grip tightens, a comforting gnaw, and he bends down to ghost your lips; Suguru swallows your breath of surprise like it might be his last meal on this Earth.

And maybe you need him because the two of you are able to kill and be killed a little more easily than most. Maybe you need him because he remembers how you like things cooked and answers all your calls. Maybe you need him because that’s a simpler part of living.

#starts bouncing around #i hope yall like LMAO #i was considering just leaving this up on ao3 but it was only one chapter so i thought why not #idk what it is about suguru that always makes me want him and the reader to kiss in the final part #this is the second time its happened now <3 #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #moss writes

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babiebom · 9 months

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When You Fall (iv)

A/N: I always get this far into a fic and it gets harder to write someone please save me.

Tw:panic attack/breakdown, cursing, reader does not want to socialize.

Wc:2.6k

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The Saloon was not as deserted as you'd hope it be, people were sitting at tables, cliqued up and conversing. It was louder than you thought it would be, laughter filling the air. Yet, you couldn't adjust to the vibes, the laughter ringing in your ears as if it were a reminder of what could have been. It was almost too warm and stuffy, and like the biggest nuisance ever, you couldn't get your feet to move away from the door.

The man was now staring at you expectantly, so you weakly brought up a hand to wave at him. The people in the Saloon had started to stare now, which made you more nervous than you cared to admit. So you hurry towards the bar, ordering the cheapest thing you could eat.

The man behind the bar, Gus, had taken your order with a smile, yet didn't make any moves to try and talk to you. With a breath of relief, you silently watched as he prepared your salad, it was obvious he was making it with as many extra ingredients that he could afford to give you without charge. You wanted to cry because of the kind gesture, but that wasn't uncommon these days, you had been crying often without any reason.

A woman with bright blue hair had been eyeing you the entire time, but like Gus she made no room to speak to you. She just cleaned cups and refilled drinks, smiling whenever the two of you would make eye contact. It feels like forever until your salad is ready, and the second it is you flee to the farthest, emptiest booth you could see. It was embarrassing, not being ready to socialize again, but you knew that this town had known your grandfather, maybe even knew him a hell of a lot better than you did and you did not want to hear their well wishes and pity because you lost him. In all honesty in the back of your mind you didn't even know if you deserved their sympathy, you had made no effort to see him especially in his last years. You didn't want to see him in bad health and that cost you the chance of ever seeing him again, he died alone in a nursing home where the people there only cared about him because they were getting paid.

You sniffle, trying to avoid having any tears fall into your salad. You shouldn't even be crying here anyways, your bad mood was probably dampening the vibe everyone had going on. Before you even get the chance to wipe away your tears, your booth shakes as someone falls into the seat opposite of you.

Your eyes land on familiar ginger hair and a darker skinned man you had never seen before. Confused, you stay silent allowing Robin to speak first. You hadn't wanted company, but you figured that you would've gotten it either way, small towns seem to be nosy like that. You were just glad it was Robin instead of a person you didn't know.

"Hey farmer!" Robin spoke with a smile, her eyes searched yours for a second before her eyes dropped to your meal. Yeah, you thought bitterly, it's sad I know.

"Haven't seen you around recently."

You nod, trying to blink away leftover tears. "Yeah, just been focused on learning the ropes I guess."

"I figured." She smiles warmly and for a split second you feel bad. You had talked to the woman once, yet she was making it seem like she genuinely cared about you.

"Sorry…"

Before the conversation could even start tonight stale, Robin sucks in a breath, adjusting herself in her seat to wrap her hands around the arm of the man next to her. "Anyways. Have you met any other townspeople yet?"

"No. Not really. Other than the people at the clinic." You shrug, wanting to not be in this conversation anymore.

"Well, this is my husband Demetrius! So now you know one more person!"

You nod and smile at her, giving the man a nice to meet you before letting your eyes wander. Some people were still trickling in, and you felt the urge to escape from your situation. Your eyes land on a man drinking alone in a corner, not even sitting in a stool. He was just standing, taking long sips every so often, he looked sad, maybe even more depressed than you are. His eyes flicker over to you, causing you to choke on your food before turning your head.

Well that was embarrassing.

Robin was still talking about something, and you caught something about her being able to build you a chicken coop or something. Your ears caught onto that and due to your love of animals, a chicken coop would mean chickens, and that would mean most of your time would be taken by taking care of tiny little creatures and not thinking about all the bad things that have happened.

"How much would that cost?"

You can see Robin's eyes light up immediately. You don't know how often people need things built or fixed, but you assume it's not often enough seeing how excited she looks. "Well, let me just say that you would also need to provide me the materials to build it, or you can buy those materials from me but the cost will obviously be more."

You nod as if her words were a given, of course you would need to provide everything. She waits a second before continuing as if expecting you to back out. "Okay, so building the coop itself would cost 4,000 gold and you would have to provide 300 logs of wood and 100 stones. If you want to buy the stone and wood from me it would bump the price up to 9,000 gold. I sell wood for 10 gold a log and each stone is 20 gold."

You suck in a breath through your teeth, it was going to drain a lot of your savings, but it would be worth it for your mental health, right? Nodding mostly to yourself, you speak before you can talk yourself out of it, at least if you make plans you can't back out of them. "So I can just bring you the money whenever I have the materials and you'll build me a chicken coop?"

"Yup."

"Cool."

She claps her hands together and stands along with her husband, "well, it's time for us to go home, but I don't really want to leave you alone…"

"It's fine, Robin, honestly."

"No, no. You shouldn't be alone right now." She looks around for a second and you can almost see an idea pop into her head. "You should come meet my son and his friends! I think you all are around the same age!"

Before you can protest seriously, she gives you an expectant look that has you standing without thinking. At least you were done with your salad. Her husband, Demetrius clears his throat after not speaking the entire time. "I can take your plate back up to the bar."

Doing that as a means to escape hadn't even crossed your mind, but it was obvious he was using it that way. You wondered why he wanted to escape talking to their son, did they not get along or something? He didn't even try to hide the fact that he didn't want any part of it.

Coughing once into your fist, you follow Robin into a room farther into the saloon. The room is almost deserted except for three people standing around a dusty pool table. You avoided looking at them instead taking in the room.

There were a couple of arcade games and couches that looked super worn. You weren't sure how often people were in here, especially with the only people being the three you already see. Swallowing at the lack of things to stare at you let your eyes flicker onto the people who were now looking at you in confusion. "Seb! I brought you a new friend!"

None of the three looked remotely mixed, and it confused you for a moment before you realized that that was probably the reason Demetrius didn't want to introduce you to their son, because it was her son and not his. Maybe it was an assumption and one of the guys could be his son, you just highly doubted it from how he acted.

All three people were insanely attractive, and all three were looking at you and Robin as if you had come in and said you had shit in their bed as a surprise for them when they got home. Sucking in your lips, you offer an awkward wave letting your hand flop back down to your side. The guy standing closest to the pool table, with the stick in his hand and dark hair that fell over his eyes moved forward slightly, embarrassment written all over his face. You felt bad for him, but not more than you felt for yourself at that moment. "Mom!"

He looked offended at the notion that his mother believed he needed help making friends, or maybe it was because his mother brought someone like you. Blinking back tears at the thought you silently watched them interact, the two were now in a whispered argument so you had no choice but to stare at the other two who were staring back at you, mouths agape.

Could you leave now? They obviously didn't want you here. And while you were grateful to Robin for trying to make sure you were okay, you also despised her for embarrassing you at that moment. She stepped away from 'Seb' with a smile, the guy just glowered at her before returning to his spot. Between his friends and the pool table. "Have fun!" Robin retreated rather quickly leaving you to stutter over your words, your thoughts not fully formed in your panic.

"Wha-huh?" You turned and watched her leave, your feet stuck in place. You could feel your entire body begin to tremble, as if it were the first day of school and your mom was leaving you in unknown hands for the day. With your mouth parted you tried to suck in as much air as you could, the reality crashing down onto your head with such ferocity that you almost topple over.

"So, you know how to play?"

"Huh?" You turn to look at the three who were all now staring at you with less horror and more confusion and interest.

"Pool, do you know how to play pool?" The purple haired woman is the only one to speak to you. And despite knowing how to play you shake your head, glancing towards the table in terror. You absolutely did not want to play right now. Especially when you know you would cause your team to lose due to nerves. "That's fine, you can come sit with me on the couch then. It's usually them two playing anyways."

You just nod and shuffle your feet towards the couch she had plopped herself on. The boys were getting the game ready, not really ignoring you, but not interacting with you either.

After a while of not speaking, the purple haired woman turns to face you on the couch. "Y'know I heard someone was moving onto that old farm. It's a shame, really. I always enjoyed exploring those overgrown fields by myself…I'm Abigail, by the way."

Your mind fills with guilt over taking over the farm at her words. Did others enjoy doing the same thing? Was it a sanctuary? A place to hide for people who didn't want to be found in whatever moment they found themselves in? "Sorry." You whisper out, letting your eyes fall onto your hands which were playing with a stray string of fabric that had come loose from your pants.

"No, it's fine. Someone should take care of the land, I guess. Your grandpa let me wander around sometimes after he let it grow wild."

"You can still wander around. It'll take me a lot of time to clear out everything, it's a giant farm after all." You try to offer her a smile. You weren't even sure if you would clear out all of it anyways. It took too much energy and how much land did you need to farm anyways? It was just going to be you, enough plants to sell and make money and eat, and a couple of chickens.

"Really?"

You nod and Abigail smiles at you, as if you had given her a gift or told her you could grant her three wishes. Man, she probably did love exploring. The conversation almost dies out, but the blonde guy whines and throws his pool stick onto the table, pouting as he comes over and sits in the middle of you and Abigail. She pats his shoulder comfortingly as he leans against her. "I can't believe he beat me again!"

"Sam…he beats you every time." Abigail says, frowning at him.

"No! Okay maybe he does but it's not because I'm bad."

"Yeah, okay." She laughs while shoving him off of her. Scrunching his nose, he turns and looks at you, the way he gives you the up and down makes you even more anxious, yet somehow you can't feel any actual malice behind his actions.

"Hey! I'm Sam. Good to meet you!" He smiles so brightly at you that you think that he must be the sun itself. No one could be this bright. His blonde hair was spiked up messily, and on any other guy you probably would've thought that it looked dumb, but somehow it suited him. Like he was just made to be in a band of some kind. You give him your own name and he immediately drifts off into his own world.

"Hmm…if I give the cue ball a bit of a top spin maybe I could…" His words trail away as he speaks to himself. A minute later he sighs unhappily and stands, grabbing the pool stick again. Abigail laughs in amusement as Sam challenges 'Seb' to another round.

You watch for a minute before you leave, the group doesn't really notice you leaving, so you quickly make your way home before anyone has the chance to talk to you again.

When you get halfway home you can feel your bottled up emotions begin to leak, wanting to come out and spill all over the dirt under your shoes from holding it in for too long. Your body resumes the shaking it was doing earlier, your brain deciding that you were far enough away that this was a safe spot to break down. You swallow harshly and pick up your pace, cutting your walk time in almost half as you borderline sprint home.

Slamming the door behind you, you allow yourself to slide down it, unable to breathe for a multitude of reasons. Sucking in a breath, you let it out of your lungs loudly, almost screaming. You openly sob, not even dragging yourself to your bed, you just lie on the floor, your body hot as you scream out your cries and emotions, hands clawing at your skin and hair.

Your throat burned as you continued to cry, your eyes shut so tightly that your head began to hurt. You wanted to break stuff, but you had nothing to break other than yourself, so you slam your fists against the ground as you let your body continue its descent onto the ground. Now lying down on your side you sob into the floorboards, letting the spit and tears and snot create a puddle under your face for you to clean the next day after it dries.

You can feel your energy rapidly depleting as you continue to cry, still unable to breathe properly. Your vision starts to spot eventually but you can't find it within yourself to care. Allowing the darkness to take over you pass out in front of the door.

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mellarkably · 10 months

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ur so right abt the way that scene between ben and devi was shot because every single moment when we see devi making out with someone (or about to have s*x) is so driven by her “horny side” only, for paxton and des she just wanted to have s*x and get over with it and with ethan she just was on her horny and active rush which is good but the ben/devi scene, yes it was framed with a sense of urgency between them but also so much care and love. the lighting, the touches, the hands, smiling at each other and just everything about it was beautiful.

and call me crazy but i am happy the show didn’t do the typical “devi only has s*x with ben” narrative because i was about sure they wouldn’t have her have s*x with ethan and they did and was surprised because most shows don’t do that. ben and devi lost their virginity together and that’s already special but they didn’t have devi pondering around waiting for ben. she got to experience a little bit of fun and discover her preferences and be comfortable with it (and maybe ben did so too with margot) and then they get to make love to each other and know what it means and the differences in that and now they can start a relationship when there’s some level of experience and they can just explore what they both want.

some shows tend to do the opposite for “romanticism” so i am glad they did not.

OH ANON HOW I LOVE YOU FOR THIS BECAUSE CAN. WE. TALK ABOUT IT!

i already predicted a while ago that the show would have ben and devi make love again but this time it would be much more natural and easy for them:

i agree with you. i think it was important to show benvi's first time as being awkward, and having it pale in comparison to her next time with ethan, who is far more experienced. it allowed devi to have fun (and im assuming its almost certain ben also had sex with margot) while embodying the whole, fun time NOT a long time thing. im sure they both learned a lot about their preferences like you said during those respective relationships.

but going back to what i loved most about 410's sex redo - how it was the ONLY sex scene in the show that wasn't shot like a high school steamy fling type of deal.

of course, there's that big damn kiss that's been building up for four years with more steam needed to be released than pati's rice cooker, BUT, the lighting. the song, the actors' natural chemistry. the tone itself already feels so much more serious than any other romantic scene in the show.

i honestly thought it would end here, so imagine my surprise when they continued - and i think this second part is what sets it apart from all the other intimate scenes in the show.

henna shot. i fucking died. ive talked enough about this on twitter and im sure other people are talking about this but it is just so symbolic for devi as an individual, her relationship with her culture and how she doesn't have to separate that from her romantic endeavours because she is desirable as she is! s1 devi would faint! she absolutely would!

and now this shot, which is what the tags you're referring to were about, has me still going cuckoo bananas like. pulling away to smile at each other. they're literally in fucking love. this is love. this is not the show trying to gain an audience using steamy scenes, or devi being horny - not that there is anything wrong with that either - but she is so visibly content and comfortable and happy and you can see it in her smile. both of their smiles in fact.

that small moment is what makes this scene for me.

anyway sorry for the huge rant. if you couldn't tell already i really love this scene! it was very well done.

#anon asks #nhie asks #never have i ever #benvi #devi vishwakumar #ben gross #bevi #ben x devi #devi x ben #my nerds who are in love

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cassyapper · 2 years

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jotaro kujo is a big softie that loves his friends so incredibly much and he needs to ensure their safety to be calm and also he’s a giantass fucking loser dork OR:

what the oingo boingo arc tells us about jotaro despite him barely being in it

first things first, jotaro being in the back with avdol and kakyoin when they’re wounded

what does this mean? it means jotaro could only soothe his nerves while on the drive to the hospital by being the one to tend to avdol and kakyoin

i come to this conclusion because it certainly wasn’t cause of space issues: polnareff is shorter than jotaro and also weighs less, so it probably wouldve been less cramped if he was the one to go into the back. but he’s not. you might then argue that no one else would’ve been able to drive, but then i argue that joseph could’ve driven and jotaro couldve been in the passenger seat. but again, that’s not the case. jotaro is only able to handle the wait by being the one right beside kakyoin and avdol while theyre wounded

to expand upon this, jotaro is the one who left for avdol and kakyoin way before joseph or polnareff. all this leads to the conclusion jotaro was really worried and the only way he could soothe those worries was by being by their sides and seeing for himself how things were going

now for the meat

polnareff wasn’t afraid of touching “jotaro” or manhandling him. this is strange... we’ve seen jotaro when he’s annoyed and pissed off about how people treat him; he literally kept an actual list of all of steely dan’s transgressions so he could properly get payback. he knows his strength and he knows how to use it so people leave him alone

but polnareff is unflinching in his action here. he doesn’t think twice about treating jotaro like a little kid who needs help getting into the car. what can we conclude about this?

one might argue that polnareff is willing to risk it this once because he’s worried about avdol and kakyoin and doesn’t want to wait around, especially because he’d be safe from a beating because of the constraints of the car. however, to counter this, let’s again remember jotaro’s strength; it would be very easy for him to push back and never be forced into the car at all before punching the daylights out of polnareff, especially because as discussed earlier, polnareff is smaller than jotaro. polnareff is impulsive but he’s not stupid, he knows they don’t have time for a brawl

which means, jotaro would’ve allowed this. jotaro is fine with being touched by his loved ones and even thrown around by them because if there is one thing jotaro can speak fluently when it comes to communication, it’s physical action. we also see this in how he lets joseph shove him against the wall when holly first falls ill and how when he was with yellow temperance kakyoin, he didn’t mind that “kakyoin” shoved him a bit (until that shoving had him almost fall to his death). whos to say he Likes it, but he clearly doesn’t Mind it so long as its coming from a friend. he trusts they wont take more what he’s willing to give in regards to his personal space

next, iggy is willing to sit next to “jotaro” and is even comfortable enough to sleep next to him

this is presumably because he earned iggy’s respect in the n’doul fight and handled iggy’s bullshit with the gum with relative grace -- showing that he’s not gonna hurt iggy over it, at least

i just wanted to point this out to show that iggy and jotaro were friends too. ive said this before but this implication makes me think jotaro, alongside avdol, was one of the only ppl allowed to pet iggy

now the implications of the famous cigarette trick

jotaro is not a showoff kinda guy. he doesn’t like bringing attention to himself, especially not “ohh wow that’s so cool!!” attention like a cigarette trick would give him. at least, not from relative strangers, like the girls at his school -- but if its from his friends, clearly his tune changes a bit...

i come to this conclusion because sure, it’d be one thing if jotaro only did this trick with the single cigarette polnareff has; he mightve done it to earn some respect and otherwise “cool” points from the crusaders so he can be alone in peace (they would be intimidated to bother such a cool guy)

but jotaro does this trick with FIVE cigarettes

he literally has no reason to do that other than to wow the crusaders at this point. this goes beyond just garnering some respect; this would be jotaro going out of his way, wasting cigarettes as he does so, to make people Look at him. like you see why this is fairly abnormal right?

so how else would one explain this behavior? well, it’s obvious to me: jotaro enjoys making his friends smile. he doesn’t mind it when it’s THEIR attention on him, because he trusts the intentions of it. it’s not burning or prickling or unknown like a stranger’s attention might be to him; it’s comforting, it lets him know he’s seen, it lets him know they care. i dont think jotaro would like ever THRIVE under attention per se, but he would really like it nonetheless coming from his friends, which is what this proves to me. he wants them to look at him and smile and root for him and revel in his accomplishments with him, an experience he doesn’t award just anyone

also it goes to show that jotaro is willing to put down the cool guy front near the crusaders cause honestly, doing this fuckin thing with five cigarettes is, while impressive, not necessarily a badass guy thing? you only learn to do this if you have a bad smoking habit and are bored out of your mind -- not particularly cool, but funny and relatable. which i think is the thing...jotaro WANTS the crusaders to relate to him. im goign nuts. basically jsut like...he loves them. he loves the connection they all have to him and it opens facets of himself he never thought would see the light of day. it lets him relax and just...be himself (which is a weirdo funny kid btw) for a bit. he doesnt need to be constantly cool or whatever to be comfortable in front of them

next, the way joseph and polnareff respond to “jotaro” clearly not being okay

what this response tells me is a couple of things:

1. jotaro has come undone or nearly come undone in front of them before. the way joseph and polnareff glance at each other before immediately launching into theatrics, jumping from one scenario to another so theres no time to think, tells me that they know what jotaro would appreciate in this situation -- and that’s a distraction from whatever his thoughts are with something so ridiculous the absurdity alone will shock jotaro out of it for now. they also know not to question him; making jotaro think about it even more will just lead to disaster. they only take what jotaro can give them and dont ask for more

2. the way they know jotaro wouldve appreciated a distraction means to me theyve talked to him about this before, presumably during the previous times he came undone. jotaro would rather die than truly talk about his problems so he probably told them “just- just distract me. i can’t stop thinking” (cause jotaro probably has anxiety disorder but well anyway). polnareff and joseph listened to that and they adhere to it here which we can see with the thumb and orange things. this is further supported by the time kakyoin changes subjects when it comes to light avdol and iggy died. cant overthink if you dont have the time to, right?

anyway this got long. basically, jotaro loves his friends and they love him too

#cass cries #jjba #im not proofreading this sorry </3 #jotaro kujo

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