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wielderofmysteries · 1 year

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Self-Made Man: Jace Beleren and Representation for Transgender Men in MTG

INTRO:

A few days before I started writing this, I received a message on Tumblr asking me to talk about my personal interpretation of Jace Beleren as a trans man. Not an unusual request, since Jace Beleren is my favorite character and I mention that I think he's trans all the time. I thought my response would be easy to write, but I started typing and couldn't stop. I realized I couldn't keep it short and simple. My thoughts grew into something much bigger, and much more meaningful to me. (Word count: ~9260)

In this post, I'll explore my analysis of Jace Beleren as a transgender man, why I think it enriches Jace as a character, and how it relates to the topic of transgender representation in Magic.

Disclaimer 1: As far as I know, WOTC and the authors who wrote Jace's lore did not originally set out with the intention of portraying a transgender character in Jace. Everything I'm presenting as evidence that Jace is trans is just part of my analysis. The purpose of this post is not to prove that Jace was always intended to be trans, but to show how my personal interpretation of Jace as a trans man is inspired by and supported by the text.

Disclaimer 2: All transgender people are different and have unique lives and feelings and experiences, so the things I say in this post won't apply to every single trans person. The examples I give here are mainly based on my own experience, as well as those of other trans men I know personally.

(General content warning for discussions of bullying and transphobia.)

PART 1: ORIGINS

There's an inherent transness about Jace Beleren.

Insecurity is one of Jace's most visible and defining traits. From Origins to Ixalan, his long-term character arc is all about his struggle to let go of his insecurities in order to become a better version of himself. There are parallels to the experiences of transgender men in the way those insecurities came about, how he expresses them, and how he eventually overcomes them.

It's easy to see why Jace would be insecure. As a telepath, he can hear all the negative thoughts other people have about him.

=========

Sure enough, there was his father, sitting at the kitchen table, frowning. Gav Beleren, grubby and balding, regarded Jace with little more than weariness.

I wish he was normal.

His father’s thoughts traced a familiar path.

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

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Lack-witted idiot.

A big lug shoved past him from behind.

Jace couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment.

I swear, that Beleren kid…

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

=========

There’s the freak.

The biting thought was the only warning Jace got.

He scrambled to his feet and spun, but he was too late. Three of his schoolmates stood between him and the access hatch.

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

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Jace's own father, despite caring for his son and wanting a better life for him, felt little warmth for him. He wished Jace were "normal" and often became frustrated with him. Jace was a victim of brutal bullying that started in early childhood and continued all through his school years. Even complete strangers disliked Jace, and they made it known.

It was difficult for Jace to tell which thoughts were or weren't his own. Jace's constant awareness of others disliking him caused him to internalize that negativity, and as a result, he developed a sense of insecurity at an early age.

Jace's insecurity manifests as self-hatred, feelings of inadequacy, and discomfort in his body and physical appearance. I think his insecurities manifested in these specific ways because one of his most significant personal struggles was gender dysphoria. In an R&D video about Jace's story in Origins, Kelly Digges spoke about Jace's insecurity, and unintentionally gave the most transgender-sounding response possible.

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"Not everybody likes Jace. They see the arrogant self-assured kid wearing the hoodie, and something about that doesn't sit well with them. But I think you've got to have sympathy for the guy. I mean, imagine being a teenager with all the awkwardness that comes with that, and actually knowing that the person behind you thinks your hair looks stupid! You'd put on a hood too!"

[Kelly Digges - Magic: The Gathering - Inside R&D Magic Origins: Jace]

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The thing is, I don't have to imagine that situation. That was literally my lived experience as a trans teenager.

I had known I was trans since I was very little, but I didn't decide to start living life as an openly transgender boy until I was 13 years old– right before I started high school. The day before my freshman orientation, my mom took me to a hair salon and I asked the stylist to give me a typical boy's haircut. My hair was waist-length, and the stylist was shocked that a 'girl' could ask her to cut off that much hair. She was scared to ruin my appearance by making me "look like a boy" (even though that's exactly what I wanted.)

My freshman photo was the ugliest school picture I've ever taken. My friends jokingly called me 'Gohan' (from Dragon Ball Z). I started wearing jackets with my hood up, even though I never liked to before, and I wore hats despite it being against the school dress code. I knew other people thought my hair looked stupid, and I knew this without having telepathic abilities like Jace.

But my troubles didn't start with that haircut. Long before I started openly living as a boy, I was told I was a 'tomboy' and that I didn't act like other little girls did. Even in early childhood, I was very aware of the fact that some people hated me for who I was and how I expressed myself. I was just like Jace in that way– knowing who was judging me; knowing they didn't respect me; and knowing that in their eyes I was ugly, a weirdo, or worse.

I had always known I was different, and Jace had always known he was different, too. But it's not for the reason you would think. People mistreated Jace long before anyone knew or even began to suspect his true nature as a telepath. Nobody knew Jace was a mage, but everyone knew something was weird about him. There was something outwardly unusual about Jace that people noticed and thought was strange and undesirable.

Something interesting I noticed while re-reading Jace's origin story is that he appears to be wearing girls' clothing in the art. He and the girl, Jill, are both wearing the same long tunic / dress and shawl; while the two other boys are wearing vests and tucked-in shirts.

I know that wasn't necessarily the intention with this art, but it got me thinking about other aspects of Jace's origin story that just felt trans to me.

Interestingly, nobody in Jace's origin story actually calls him "Jace" except for his mother, the only person who truly loved and accepted him for who he was; and Alhammarret, another telepath and therefore the only person who could see Jace the way Jace saw himself. Everyone else refers to him as "Beleren" or "that Beleren kid" or "freak". His own dad doesn't call him anything at all.

It reminded me of the way my family never got into the habit of calling me my chosen name, even after I came out. They would call me my childhood nickname, "BooBoo", to avoid saying my chosen name or my birth name. To them, I was boyish enough it was weird to call me a girl's name, but not loved or respected enough to be called what I wanted.

Being a trans teenager is hard. It's hard to control your style when you're dependent on your parents to buy clothing. It's hard to control your identity when other people constantly call you the wrong name. And it's pretty much impossible to control your body.

Puberty is a source of insecurity for all teenagers, but it's the ultimate hell for trans teenagers. When the effects of hormones become visible and you see how your body has changed compared to your peers, the difference can be emotionally devastating.

While puberty made me wider and heavier; my male friends, who were going through the other puberty, got taller and more muscular. They got bigger and stronger every year while I was doomed to stay 5'0 (152cm) forever. It felt like I could never catch up– they looked the way I wanted to without even trying. Sure, I could pass for a boy, but they were going to grow up to be men. It infuriated me.

Similarly, Jace's lack of stereotypically masculine physical characteristics was a major source of self-hatred.

=========

“Hey, Beleren,” said the largest of the three, his booming voice overpowering the wind. His name was Tuck. At fourteen, he was a year older than Jace, a head taller, and built like a loading dock.

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

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How small he looked, hanging desperately above the crackling stream of mana. How vulnerable he looked. He hated it.

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

=========

Jace's male peers are described as being significantly taller and more muscular than him. This difference in size and strength made it easy for other boys to bully and physically abuse Jace, which caused him to associate their masculinity with the power they held over him. In Jace's mind, being a victim meant he was weak, and being weak meant he was less of a man. Hating yourself for things you can't control is extraordinarily painful.

When Jace discovered his true nature as a telepath, he realized it was the one way he held power over others. He tried to feel tougher and more masculine by emulating the way his bullies demonstrated their power over him– through intimidation, cruelty, and threats of violence.

=========

He looked Tuck in the eyes. “And if you harm my family, I’ll take your mind apart, one squalid little memory at a time.”

Tuck flinched.

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

=========

Having grown up without any positive male role models in his life, Jace's idea of masculinity was primarily influenced by the mistreatment he endured. He simply imitated what he saw and he didn't have the emotional support or life experience needed to grow out of that mindset.

As a young trans man reading Jace's origin story, I found the way he resented his bullies and retaliated against them to be very relatable. It's scary how easily gender dysphoria can turn into toxic masculinity. When you need to try a million times harder than your cisgender peers to be acknowledged as a man, taking masculinity to a harmful extreme can seem like the logical thing to do, especially if you're a younger trans man.

Despite expressing myself exactly the same as any other little boy would (wearing the same clothes, liking the same cartoons, playing the same sports), I was bullied by both kids and adults for daring to think I could be a boy. Once, when I was 8 years old, I stepped up to bat for my Little League baseball team. When the announcer said my feminine name and everyone noticed the long hair sticking out from underneath my helmet, the opposing team's volunteer coaches (the fathers of kids my age!) shouted from their dugout: "There's no way they'll win! They have a girl on their team!" Their players laughed and cheered in response.

That absolutely broke me. Their words taught me that being myself wasn't enough. And if being the same as other boys wasn't enough, then I needed to be more than them. I intentionally became a bully. Picking every fight I could was my way of proving I was more masculine than people thought.

Intentional toxic masculinity in pursuit of gender-affirmation is a very common experience for young trans men. Jace and my younger self acted the way we did because we were trying to mask our insecurity. We wanted to kill the weakness we saw in ourselves, so we lashed out in an attempt to feel stronger than the people who hurt us.

Starting middle school let me get away from most of the people who bullied me. It was the fresh start I needed to stop being such a terror. But a clean slate wouldn't prove to be so helpful for young Jace.

PART 2: PLANESWALKER

At age 15, Jace's Planeswalker spark ignited. He arrived on Ravnica with no memories of his life on Vryn.

In theory, Jace's amnesia would have allowed him to start becoming the person he wanted to be, but he couldn't begin to heal because the scars on his subconscious mind were immediately opened. Being lost and alone made Jace feel vulnerable– the feeling he hated most.

=========

Came out of nowhere. Some poor Izzet experimental subject, probably.

He scrambled to his feet. People were staring at him. He looked as bad as he felt, sweaty and pale and filthy. He pulled his scarf up around his face and dashed to the side of the road.

I’m not an experimental subject. I’m…I’m…

I’m in trouble.

Fine. Table that.

He walked as fast as he could without seeming to hurry. He reached out, carefully, into the minds around him. It was a cacophony, a mad tangle of voices, and half of them weren’t even human.

Vagrant. Thief. Poor kid. Wretch.

His headache was getting worse.

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

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On Ravnica, Jace had no idea where he was or who he was, and he was suddenly surrounded by more people than he'd ever been near before. After losing the ability to control his telepathy, he was overwhelmed with their thoughts. He didn't know any of the people around him, but he knew they thought he was strange and pitiful.

When Jace noticed people staring at him, he hid his face with his scarf and ran away from them. Jace's first instinctual concern was not that he was possibly in danger, but that people were perceiving him in a way that made him feel embarrassed about himself. Even without memories of being bullied, a part of Jace's mind was still constantly worried about his appearance.

Jace's anxiety in public reminded me of the extreme paranoia I suffered from as a trans teenager. Being seen and perceived was so unbearable to me that I went to extremes to avoid people. I'd stay home or hide whenever possible, and sometimes I became so anxious I would literally run away if I noticed someone looking at me. I've gotten a lot better in the past few years, but I still worry when I'm out in public. I often notice strangers staring at me, and I hate knowing when people are questioning my gender. In certain situations, I'm even worried that someone might hurt me if they notice I'm trans. When you're trans and you've been bullied, just being perceived is dangerous.

That initial experience on Ravnica did instant damage to his self esteem. Jace's discomfort in his body and physical appearance was such a pressing issue that he immediately sought gender-affirming body modifications.

=========

The Jace in front of her was pathetically young.

[...]

The teenage Jace seated in the chair had the look about him of someone who wanted to disappear and wish someone more imposing into his place. His outfit was disheveled, the cut of it unfamiliar. Vraska sensed in the fabric of the memory that this version of Jace had arrived in Ravnica for the first time only days before.

The Gruul shaman's hand was glowing brilliant white. "This your first?" he grunted.

It took Jace a moment too long to answer. "Yes," he said timidly.

Vraska couldn't help but smile at this memory. He was the wimpiest teenager she had ever seen—no wonder he wanted a cool tattoo.

[...]

The shaman leaned over the teenager and drew a line with his finger down Jace's cheek, leaving a brilliant white tattoo in its place. He continued on his chin and arm, and Vraska watched as the shaman diligently painted a braver face on the nervous teenager's own.

[The Flood - Alison Luhrs]

=========

Tattoos probably aren't the first thing that comes to mind when you think of gender-affirming body modifications, but that was the purpose they served for Jace. Getting tattoos made him feel braver and more grown up, and they made him look cooler and more intimidating to others. All of these were stereotypically masculine traits he desired in the way he presented himself.

In addition to the way they changed him outwardly, Jace's tattoos were a personal declaration of his identity. His tattoos were drawn from one of the few things he could remember after arriving on Ravnica: a set of mysterious shapes and symbols. He didn't know what meaning they held, if any at all, but he decided that they were important to him because they were his.The decision to have them permanently inked on his skin gave him a sense of control and ownership over his body and appearance, which is one of the most important aspects of forming an identity as a trans person.

In his young adult years on Ravnica, Jace made a living as a criminal extorting the rich and famous. For the first time in his life, he could afford to choose his own wardrobe instead of depending on a guardian to provide clothes for him. Jace used this opportunity to exercise more control over his appearance, having clothing designed and tailored specifically to his desires.

The patterns Jace had tattooed on his body would be incorporated into his signature blue cloak. Jace's cloak is the most iconic element of his visual design, and it's important to this interpretation of his character because it's his dysphoria hoodie.

A dysphoria hoodie is a hooded clothing item intended to relieve gender dysphoria by obscuring the shape of a person's body. They're oversized, loose, and usually black or another dark color. Wearing a dysphoria hoodie hides a person's body from others' judging eyes, and allows them to forget about the parts of their body that they don't like.

It's undeniable that Jace's cloak fits this description perfectly.

Jace was extremely attached to his blue cloak. It didn't matter how hot the weather was, or how dirty or damaged his cloak had gotten– he always wore it anyway. And judging by the fact that he canonically had numerous duplicates made, he didn't want to ever stop wearing it. The ability to look and feel mysterious was very comforting to him.

Jace tried to hide his insecurities for as long as he could, but as he grew into adulthood, his problems would grow and change with him.

The novel Agents of Artifice follows Jace's life on Ravnica from ages 19 to 22. Growing up meant the gender role Jace desired to fill evolved from 'boy' to 'man', but Jace had no positive male role models or examples in this formative time.

As Jace's employer and teacher, Tezzeret forced him to use his powers for violence by psychologically abusing him. Tezzeret had an explosive temper and brutally tortured Jace when he failed assignments or hesitated to comply.

Jace's best friend / partner, Kallist Rhoka, showed a sense of entitlement after the two met Liliana Vess. Kallist felt like Liliana owed him attention and sex, despite the fact that she wasn't interested in him because she was already dating Jace.

=========

“You’re a hypocrite, Jace. It’s fine. My own fault, really. I should’ve known better than to take you at your word, when it came to getting something you wanted—the one thing I might’ve found to make this damned place a little better!”

“She was never yours!” Jace shot to his feet, fists clenched. “Never!”

“Because you wouldn’t give us the chance!” Kallist shot back. “It’s not enough that you took away everything I had?”

“Took away … Damn it, Kallist, I saved your life!”

[Agents of Artifice - Ari Marmell]

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Kallist wasn't the only man who felt this way. Throughout the book, several complete strangers made it clear that they thought Jace was inferior and undeserving of Liliana's affection, and that Liliana should be with them instead. Other men openly insulted Jace because they didn't see him as a "real man".

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“I couldn’t help but notice,” he slurred in a voice heavy with beer, “that you finally sent your scrawny friend packing. That mean you interested in spending some time with a real man?”

[Agents of Artifice - Ari Marmell]

=========

At that point in his life, Jace was still surrounded by men who had very toxic expressions of masculinity, but unlike his teenage self, he had no desire to imitate them. Jace feared and resisted Tezzeret's violent teachings, he disapproved of Kallist's misogyny towards Liliana, and he avoided confrontation with the random strangers who threatened him.

I think Jace's distaste for their attitudes and behaviors shows that his insecurity is truly gender dysphoria and not just toxic masculinity. If Jace disapproved of their toxic masculinity and didn't want to express himself that way, why would he care if he wasn't a "real man" to them? Why did he still feel incomplete as a man? What does being a man mean to Jace Beleren?

Jace wanted to do all the things typically expected of adult men. He wanted to be self-reliant, to be a protector and leader to others. He made himself a protector and financial provider to his romantic partners. He wanted to protect Ravnica and accepted his duty as the Living Guildpact when the role was magically forced upon him. He worked with the Gatewatch to defend other planes and invited them to live in his home. Despite all his efforts, nobody seemed to see that Jace was trying his best.

One of the most common difficulties trans men experience is being infantilized because they're perceived as younger. Trans men often look younger than their cisgender male peers of the same age due to the difference in hormones. Less testosterone means trans men tend to be shorter, less muscular, and have less body hair (not accounting for individual genetic factors).

When trans men lack stereotypically masculine physical characteristics, especially those associated with age and maturity, such as facial hair, they don't get treated with the same respect as other men. (For example, adult trans men are often referred to as 'boys' no matter how old they actually are.)

When Jace's appearance is described in stories, his lack of stereotypically masculine physical characteristics is always noted. He's always described as being smaller and less muscular than other men, and it's repeatedly remarked upon that he's unable to grow a beard.

=========

Rulan was clad much like Jace himself, though he preferred deep reds and purples to Jace’s unrelenting blue and black. And unlike Jace, Rulan boasted a full, tidily trimmed beard.

[Agents of Artifice - Ari Marmell]

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She cast a critical eye up and down his form. Firm, fit, alert, hair combed. She mentally called bull on it. "You can drop the glamour, dear. No one cares."

He sighed, and shimmered as his illusion dropped. There was the real Jace; paler, hair rumpled, eyes sunken from late nights, and his chin tinted by the adorable peach fuzz that almost counted as a someday-maybe beard.

[Homesick - Chris L'Etoile]

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The text shows that Jace experienced infantilization as a trans man. His sparse facial hair is enough to visibly darken his face, but it's referred to as "adorable peach fuzz" rather than a more mature-sounding alternative. In the story Catching Up, Liliana tells Jace that him looking older is "an unambiguous compliment."

=========

"You look older," she said.

"I'm not sure how to take that."

"At your age, dear, it's an unambiguous compliment." She cocked her head. "Have you started combing your hair?"

He smoothed his hair self-consciously, just for a moment, then withdrew his hand. He had, in fact, started combing it. Not that his hair was any of her business. He scowled.

[Catching Up - Kelly Digges]

=========

This aspect of Jace's trans experience caused him to be disrespected in several areas of his adult life. As an adult navigating dating and relationships, people saw him as unattractive and less desirable. As the Living Guildpact, people saw him as unqualified and irresponsible. As a member of the Gatewatch, people saw him as weak and incapable of leadership. Because he was infantilized as a trans man, he was perceived as inherently less masculine, less competent, and less mature. This negative perception reinforced his feelings of inadequacy.

For this reason, Jace was more self-conscious about his appearance as an adult than he'd ever been as a youth. In order for people to treat him with more respect, Jace found it necessary to hide his body with his cloak and to change his appearance with illusions. Jace felt the need to 'pass', and thought being himself was unsatisfactory, especially after he met Gideon.

Meeting Gideon was a major turning point in Jace's emotional development as a trans man.

Gideon was a great example of stereotypical but positive masculinity. He was self-reliant but not afraid to ask for help. He was a leader but tried to uplift others. He fought as a defender, not an aggressor.

Jace saw Gideon as an upstanding person and a good friend. For the first time in his life, Jace had a positive male role model to look up to. It made him furious.

=========

"I'd rather stand," said Gideon.

Jace stood up. It was an error. He still had to crane his neck to look Gideon in the eye, and now the size difference between them was glaringly obvious. He hated feeling small. Hated it.

[Catching Up - Kelly Digges]

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Gideon made Jace feel hopelessly insecure about himself.

He was everything Jace wanted to be, and seemed to be perfect in all the ways Jace wasn't. Gideon was super tall while Jace was average height. Gideon was athletic and muscular while Jace was thin and out-of-shape. Gideon was charismatic and a natural leader while people tended to automatically distrust Jace.

Jace both admired and envied Gideon. He tried his best to emulate Gideon's positive qualities, but found it difficult because it was clear to himself and others that it didn't come naturally to him. Jace's presence just didn't inspire others or make them feel safe like Gideon's presence did.

=========

What would Gideon say?

Jace smiled. Of course.

"For Zendikar," he said, raising one fist in the air. It felt thin to him, lacking Gideon's armored fist, his baritone war cry, his iron conviction.

[Brink of Extinction - Kelly Digges]

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"Vanity?" she said. "That's not like you."

He raked a hand back through his hair, which did nothing to calm its random angles. "I should be at my best for team meetings. Project leadership. Confidence. The idea that I know what the hell I'm doing. And why am I telling you this?" He looked annoyed at himself.

She raised one ivory shoulder in a careless shrug. "Who else knows you well enough to understand?"

[Homesick - Chris L'Etoile]

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Seeing the differences between himself and Gideon aggravated his gender dysphoria and reinforced all the manifestations of his insecurity– self-hatred, feelings of inadequacy, and discomfort in his body and physical appearance.

In his time with the Gatewatch, Jace's vision of masculinity had changed to be much more positive, but he was still miserable because he kept measuring his self-worth against an ideal he couldn't seem to reach.

This stage in socially transitioning is emotionally difficult for trans people. It takes time and effort to overcome.

PART 3: CASTAWAY

At age 26, after the Gatewatch's defeat on Amonkhet, Jace involuntarily planeswalked to Ixalan. He awoke on a tropical island with no recollection of who he was or where he came from.

For the second time in his life, Jace had complete amnesia. Just like when he sparked at age 15, his insecurities lingered despite being unable to remember what caused them. He hallucinated illusions of people from his past life, and his subconscious mind projected his insecurities through them.

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"You've really done it this time, haven't you?"

This vision appeared whenever the man was struggling at a task.

His shoulders were broad, and his olive skin had a sheen of sweat underneath the shine of his armor. The hallucination was looking over the man's shoulder as he tried to carve a fishing hook.

"Listen, you aren't really suited to this task. Let me handle it." The vision's voice was gruff but friendly.

It came off as condescending.

The man was annoyed.

"I can do it myself."

The hallucination sighed. "You and I both know you're not suited to this. Let me handle it, you go philosophize on the other end of the beach."

"I said I can do it myself." The man let his irritation reach his voice.

"No, you can't. I call the shots and execute, you stand to the side. That's how this works."

The man responded by throwing his hook at the hallucination. It went straight through the figure's eye and landed behind him on the sand.

[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]

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An illusion of Gideon represented Jace's frustration due to low confidence in his skills and abilities. No one ever seemed to think Jace was good enough. His intellect, social skills, and physical dexterity were all constantly questioned throughout his entire life. As a result, Jace never got the chance to prove to the people around him what he was truly capable of.

On Useless Island, Jace was utterly alone and could rely only on himself. Jace succeeded in teaching himself to hunt, fish, and build in order to survive. He was not inept at stereotypically masculine tasks, as people had believed him to be. Over time, he grew a thick beard and gained a significant amount of muscle mass.

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"You look terrible," purred a voice from above.

The man moved his hands. An illusion of a woman stood above him. She had raven hair, tired eyes, and a disdainful expression. Her arms were gloved in violet satin and crossed in front of her.

"The muscles are a nice change, but you look awful with facial hair." Her lips curled in a disdainful sneer.

The man shook his head, tears building in the corner of his eyes.

"I don't know who you are."

"Of course you don't, boy."

She looked him over. "You didn't know who I was then, and you don't now. Hard to build trust when neither of us trusts each other."

The man decided to stop caring that this illusion wasn't real. He desperately needed someone to talk to.

"Who was I, before here?"

"You weren't who you thought you were, that's for sure. No one else saw through you, but I did. You were never a leader or a detective or a scholar; you were a frightened child playing pretend."

The man swallowed a lump in his throat.

"You can fool the rest of the world with your magic and illusions, but you could never fool me."

The man wanted to sob. Wanted to go back and sleep. Wanted to starve until all of this went away.

[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]

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An illusion of Liliana represented Jace's gender dysphoria and impostor syndrome.

Despite everything he had achieved so far on Useless Island, his subconscious mind still held feelings of self-doubt. Part of Jace's mind wondered whether or not he was ever truly suited to being a man, telling himself he "looks terrible" and "awful with facial hair". Again, Jace's maturity and experience are denied when the illusion infantilizes him by calling him a "boy" and "a frightened child playing pretend". This vision was an expression of Jace's fear that he was inherently unfit for masculinity and the roles he wanted to fill as a man.

Unlike the first time Jace had amnesia, though, there were no real people around to reinforce his insecurities. Being alone meant Jace had no one to compare himself to. This gave him the opportunity to truly have faith in himself. Rather than trying to copy someone else's example of masculinity, he was creating his own.

=========

The man opened his eyes, and saw a vision of himself standing on top of the water in front of him.

The image had a blank expression on its face, but was otherwise identical to the man himself, standing calmly—impossibly—on the surface of the water.

The man's jaw fell open in shock.

The illusion appeared solid as flesh, and its detail was astonishingly accurate. The man was amused he did not remember his name but remembered the exact details of his own body: muscles toned, stubble on its face, blistered sunburn on its bare shoulders. He even saw its scars—his scars—the little bookmarks of a life well-lived.

[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]

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All the effort he had taken to change himself showed outwardly on his body, and it was very gender-affirming. He was happy to see his muscles and facial hair and sunburn. I don't know how else to say this, but Jace being proud of "his scars" just has super transgender connotations. When Jace saw his scars, he appreciated them as proof of his ability to change and adapt– proof of his survival.

One of the most meaningful and symbolic moments in Jace's story is his decision to leave Useless Island. He built a raft and sailed away, uncertain of his future but determined and unafraid. Among the items he packed for his journey was his old blue cloak, unaware of the meaning it previously held for him. Jace encountered a storm soon after leaving, and all the items he brought with him were lost or destroyed, including his cloak. But he wasn't upset. He didn't miss it. To the Jace of Useless Island, it was nothing more than a piece of fabric. The Jace of Useless Island was comfortable in his body, and had no need for a dysphoria hoodie to hide from himself or anyone else. By letting his cloak be destroyed, Jace let go of his insecurities.

Vraska found Jace washed up on a rocky island and accepted him into her pirate crew. Jace was eager to help, using his tinkering ability to fix telescopes and compasses. He also used his illusion magic to make The Belligerent invisible during a raid, and even fought vampires with the crew.

People need to have loved ones in their lives who make them feel accepted and respected. It's absolutely critical for a person's emotional health, and especially for trans people, whose close support networks are often insufficiently small or entirely absent. When you feel ashamed of yourself because you're constantly being criticized, when you live in fear of the world around you because you're hated, it's difficult even to simply exist. Having just one person who truly makes you feel safe makes a world of difference.

This is why it was so important that Vraska, the only person on Ixalan who knew Jace before his amnesia, didn't judge him based on his past. She didn't try to tell Jace who he used to be or who he should be. The crew of The Belligerent allowed Jace to be himself, and they cared about the qualities he had, not the ones he lacked. This key difference in how people treated Jace on Ixalan is what allowed him to thrive.

In The Flood, Jace fell down a waterfall and hit his head on a rock. The injury triggered a reversal of his amnesia. After Jace got his memories back, he reflected on the difference between his past and present selves.

=========

"I wouldn't have had the strength to climb this a year ago," Jace said with a little bit of pride. "Or if I did, I probably would have passed out halfway up."

"You weren't that out of shape when I last saw you," Vraska teased.

"You're ignoring how often I used to use illusions to make myself look like I was in shape."

Her brows shot up. "Seriously?"

"Oh yeah," Jace acknowledged. His expression was unguarded, eyes still red from emotion, a lighthearted tilt to his lips. Unapologetically human. He grinned. "I used to be a coward."

He let Not anymore hang unspoken in the air between them, and Vraska caught his smile as he turned to ascend the golden staircase toward Orazca, one strong step after another.

[The Flood - Alison Luhrs]

=========

The old Jace was always being compared to others. That Jace hated himself because he could only see himself as an inferior version of other men. He wanted to hide because he felt like he would never be enough. He wanted to be anyone but Jace.

The new Jace unlearned that mindset. He realized the only 'right' way to be a man was to try to be the best Jace he could be. Having room to improve meant he had the opportunity to find joy in growing and changing. He was proud of himself for taking control of his identity and putting in all the effort necessary to transition. On Ixalan, Jace cultivated the strongest body he ever had. That new body made him braver and more confident than ever before. And that new confidence made him happier than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

The resolution of Jace's arc came from his transition. All his life, Jace had wanted people to understand and accept his true self. For people to see his true self, he needed to be able to show them. Jace was able to start healing from his trauma on Ixalan because for the first time in his life, he felt like it was safe and good to be himself, so he lost his fear of judgment and embarrassment. Through that acceptance, he learned to be himself, and to love himself, and to love his transness. On Ixalan, Jace finally became the man he wanted to be.

=========

Jace looked down at himself.

The tan was real. The scrapes, the newly callused hands, the muscles (the muscles!) were all his. Jace felt proud of his body for the first time in his life. He must not lose track of it now.

[Wool Over the Eyes - Alison Luhrs]

=========

PART 4: DEEP BLUE

Jace being a transgender man is not just a headcanon to me. It's a textual interpretation that I believe adds meaning to the story and enriches Jace as a character.

My interpretation of Jace as a trans man is rooted in the way his personal philosophy guides him as a Blue character.

Blue's central theme is "Perfection through knowledge." Blue sees the world and everything in it as a blank slate waiting to be transformed. With the right knowledge, all possibilities can become reality. Jace's expression of "Perfection through knowledge" is his journey to become a better person by understanding himself.

=========

Jace chose his words carefully.

"Existence is adaptation to changing circumstances. The self is an accumulation of what one has learned from those changing circumstances . . . Our agency gives us the means to alter our own path. You are who you decide to be. And who you will become depends only on how you choose to adapt."

[Something Else Entirely - Alison Luhrs]

=========

Jace's personal philosophy as a Blue character is "You are who you choose to be''. He believes that people are defined by the choices they make with their free will, and rejects the idea that the self has immutable qualities. To Jace, there is no pre-determined path or destiny for him to follow. Rather, he continually seeks to cultivate his own identity through change.

In my interpretation of Jace as a trans man, Jace holds these beliefs because they're lessons he's had to learn in order to overcome his struggles and accept himself.

As a Blue character, Jace's core struggle is his desire to understand himself. Jace's life has been a constant quest to figure out who he is. Above all, Jace's thirst for knowledge is a need to understand his potential and his place in the Multiverse.

=========

Jace.

My name is Jace Beleren.

So there was something in there, waiting for him to dig it out.

And who is Jace Beleren? Is he a good man? Is he kind?

He willed away the shape and sat, alone, farther from home than he’d even known was possible.

He’d have to wait and see.

[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]

=========

Having lost so much of his life to amnesia, Jace has often been unsure of who he is or who he should be.

I've always seen the divide in Jace's life caused by his amnesia as a parallel to the 'before' and 'after' periods in my life as a trans person.

When I decided to start openly living as a trans boy in high school, it was like I was being haunted by my own ghost. I didn't know who I was or how to act anymore because everyone around me seemed to see and speak to a version of myself that no longer existed. But I hadn't died, I was just different. I wanted people to see that I was alive and well. I wanted to make myself feel real again.

Like Jace, I was a teenage boy with no past. I needed to rebuild myself, and I had to start from scratch. I wasn't sure what to do with myself, but the one thing I was sure of was that I couldn't look back. I didn't want to. And neither did Jace.

Jace is known for his love of investigation, puzzles, and research, but his past seems to be the one thing he's not curious about. While he does occasionally wonder what his life used to be like, he's never shown a desire to return to that past. He's never put any time or energy into re-discovering old memories or trying to restore some previous state.

When Jace asks himself, "Who am I?", he's not asking who he was before. He's asking who he can be. What matters to Jace is not who you were, but who you can become.

The past is unimportant to Jace, and this belief gives him strength. He expressed this on Ixalan when he vowed the illusions of his past would no longer bother him.

=========

"No more involuntary illusions!" he said, and something in the back of his mind rung with magical affirmation. It would not happen again.

He had control over his mind. He was the wielder of his talents.

[...]

Then a thought occurred to the man.

"Who I was doesn't matter . . . because I get to learn who I am now."

Saying it out loud made it feel real.

"Whoever I was is irrelevant, for I will become whoever I want to become."

He believed that with all his heart.

The man realized what he must do.

He was going to prove to himself that he deserved to live.

The man got to work.

[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]

=========

Jace understood that in order to progress, he had to keep moving forward. Letting go of the past is what allowed Jace to live in the present and to have hope for his future.

This aspect of Jace's philosophy is also an important aspect of trans acceptance. Many trans people struggle with making the decision to transition because they fear it's too late. They may feel that way because of their age, because of their circumstances in life, or because other people will remember them differently. But Jace believes that the person you were yesterday doesn't have to be the person you are today, or will be tomorrow. When you understand this, you understand that it is never too late for anyone to change.

It's in our nature as thinking, feeling beings to want to explore and discover new things about ourselves, but transphobes want us to repress our curiosity. My whole life, I've had to fight back against people who disrespect my identity and want me to submit to their idea of who I should be. Jace shares this experience.

=========

Baan regarded him coolly. "You were bullied as a child."

Jace coughed on his first mouthful of food and struggled to swallow. "I, uh, don't remember my childhood." A dozen unvoiced thoughts flickered behind his eyes.

The Kaladeshi raised his brows. "One need not consciously recollect an event to fall into habitual behaviors determined by the experience. It is not inconceivable that one could forget their entire life. I would safely wager that were that the case, the subject would still tend to make similar lapses of judgement, and would be drawn to associate with the same sorts of people." He waved a hand, the swish of an ox's tail dismissing flies. "The nature of mortals is not so malleable as some would naively suppose. A person of religious inclination will always find something greater than themselves to place their faith in. A criminal will forever remain a criminal."

Jace put his fork down. "That's a very...deterministic point of view, Minister."

[Homesick - Chris L'Etoile]

=========

Dovin Baan expressed beliefs about identity and human nature similar to those of the transphobes I've dealt with. People like them think, "You were born a certain way and you will always be that way. You will never be anything else. No matter what you do, you can never truly change."

But Jace lives in defiance of that idea. Jace knows he's capable of change because he actively chose to become someone new. What he once was, he no longer is. Jace's disagreement with Dovin Baan isn't just a difference in opinion; it's a defense of his existence. When transphobes deny our identities, they deny our reality.

If Dovin believes our identities are set in stone, Jace believes we each hold a sculptor's tools. Whether or not you will change is your choice. But you alone have the power to make that choice, and no one can take that away from you.

=========

She sighed. "I don't know how the Golgari will see me when I return."

Jace shrugged. "You get to decide how they see you."

She looked at him with uncertainty. Jace continued. "How we engage with the world is dependent on how we present ourselves to it. We are continuously adjusting to change because if we fail to change, we fail to survive. By nature of you surviving the hell you did, you have changed into someone wiser than before. By nature of you commanding this ship, you've transformed yourself into the leader you always knew you could be.

"What makes you you isn't your circumstance or your past, but the choices you make in the future. Your ability to learn and adapt is what makes you who you are today, and that is what dictates who you will continue to become."

[Something Else Entirely - Alison Luhrs]

=========

Jace's focus on adaptation and self-improvement reminds me of the theory of gender euphoria; the idea that gender identity is defined by positive feelings and what feels right to a person, not negative feelings and what feels wrong (gender dysphoria). You can't be happy if you only focus on things that cause you discomfort and pain. You need to find things that give you comfort and bring joy to your life.

As a teenager, Jace hated himself for his weakness. He felt like being tough would make him more masculine. But when he grew up and gained more life experience and new role models, he realized that was no longer what he wanted. It may take some time to figure out what you want, and you may even find that what you want will change, but the end goal will always be to become the best version of you.

This process of trial-and-error is integral to Jace's philosophy.

We ourselves must constantly change in order to survive in an ever-changing world. Jace believes we are defined by the lessons we choose to absorb from these experiences. Every time you change, you have the opportunity to learn something new about yourself. You have the opportunity to see how you've become stronger and see what inspires you to live. That is adaptation. That is growth.

Even if you feel like you're not where you want to be yet, in Jace's eyes, you have already proven your identity just by choosing to walk that path. You can't just wish to love yourself. You have to choose to see yourself as someone worthy of love.

Jace wants us to see and appreciate ourselves for who we are and who we want to be, not what we aren't. You're a glass half full, not a glass half empty. Your potential is infinite, not wasted. If you learn to see yourself this way, it's easier to be a happier, more authentic self.

Jace's philosophy is what makes his character development a beautifully resonant trans story worthy of being true trans representation in my eyes.

=========

In that moment, Jace noticed a change within himself. The Jace of Zendikar and Innistrad and Ravnica had a nervous energy about him, persistently bored and disastrously introspective, constantly aware of the chasm of absent memory that was always on his mind's horizon. The Jace without a past was present, alert, comfortable no matter the circumstance and ready to face whatever might come his way. He remembered what it was like to be both, but recognized how much more natural it was to be the latter. In the span of a moment, Jace was surprised at himself, and then realized his earnestness of late, of Ixalan, was not manufactured, nor was his mindfulness something he could only access in a state of amnesia. That was who he had always been. He had just forgotten.

[Glimpse the Far Side of the Sun - Alison Luhrs]

=========

PART 5: REPRESENTATION FOR TRANS MEN IN MAGIC

If that all seems like an excessive amount of explaining for why I believe Jace is trans, that's because it is.

My interpretation of Jace as a trans man means so much to me because there is no actual representation for trans men in Magic. Which is, frankly, really wack.

In 2015, Magic's first ever transgender character, a trans woman named Alesha, was introduced in the beloved Khans of Tarkir story, "The Truth of Names."

In 2018, a nonbinary elf Legend named Hallar was printed in Dominaria.

In 2020, a nonbinary human Legend named Alharu was printed in Commander Legends.

The introduction of trans characters in Magic really ramped up in 2021. Kaldheim introduced an angel who uses Xe/Xer pronouns in the story Know Which Way the Wind Blows; as well as Niko Aris, Magic's first nonbinary Planeswalker. Strixhaven introduced Dean Nassari of Prismari College, a nonbinary efreet Legend. And Strixhaven: A Curriculum of Chaos, the set's accompanying Dungeons & Dragons book, introduced a nonbinary loxodon NPC named Bhedum 'Rampart' Soovij, and a human NPC named Nora Ann Wu, a transgender girl who counsels other transgender students at Strixhaven. The Innistrad: Midnight Hunt story His Eyes, All of Them featured an elderly transgender woman named Malynn.

Early 2022 saw the printing of another nonbinary character, an elf chef named Rocco, in Streets of New Capenna. And a nonbinary soldier named Myrel was printed in The Brothers' War.

Seven years after the introduction of Alesha, Magic acknowledged that trans men exist for the first time ever in May 2022, when the 'Pride Across the Multiverse' Secret Lair Drop was announced, just a few days after I began writing this article.

This Secret Lair Drop had eight cards featuring art, all by LGBTQ+ artists, that showcase the strength of the LGBTQ+ community in the Magic Multiverse. This celebration of diversity was beautiful, heartwarming, and inspiring in its entirety. Notably, it also featured two trans men in its art. In the new art for "Bearscape'', one of the men is depicted with scars from top surgery (gender-affirming surgery to flatten his chest). And in the new art for "Alesha, Who Smiles at Death", Alesha reaches out to support a young transgender man wearing a chest binder.

As a transgender man myself, I'd been waiting forever to see representation for trans men in Magic. I was happy… and then I wasn't. Two nameless transgender men with no lore appearing in the art for a Secret Lair Drop is just not meaningful representation.

The first named trans man to ever appear on a Magic card was Klement, a tiefling introduced in the summer 2022 set, Alchemy Horizons: Baldur's Gate. Don't get me wrong, I like Klement a lot– he's a very cute character and I'm glad he exists. But it's frustrating that he doesn't even exist in the Magic Multiverse because he's a Baldur's Gate character, and you can't actually own a real Klement card because he's a digital Alchemy card exclusive to Magic Arena.

Now that we're in early 2023, Magic is set to have been around for 30 years without ever featuring a named trans man character on a printed card or in a story.

Trans men have remained painfully invisible in popular media, even as the mainstream has gotten a lot better about representing a wide variety of people in the past few years. Magic in particular has done a very good job of increasing representation for marginalized groups. Magic clearly isn't afraid of including trans characters, which is why the lack of representation for trans men is so disappointing and so baffling to me.

Not having any representation for trans men in Magic hurts because meaningful representation for marginalized groups helps tremendously to promote inclusion in the community. Magic has a wonderful community and I feel like its members genuinely try to welcome all kinds of people, but others can't learn to become more accepting of you if they don't even know you exist.

When people talk about making the community welcoming for people of marginalized genders, trans men are often forgotten and left out of the conversation. When I see people discussing matters of marginalized genders in the community, they don't acknowledge that trans men are just as affected by gender discrimination as other marginalized genders. And I often see people (even other trans people) use the phrase "women and nonbinary" when talking about creating safe community spaces, seemingly not realizing that phrase categorically excludes trans men.

If the intention is to be inclusive, I don't know why we'd be excluded. It hurts to think that people say these things because they either don't know we exist or actually don't want to be friends with us.

I'm genuinely glad I've seen so many other trans people and allies connect with each other through the Magic fandom. But it's sad to not feel that same sense of solidarity and friendship. When I talk with other trans men in the Magic fandom, we're often lamenting the fact that there are no canon characters or prominent Magic creators / community members who are trans men. We have nothing to celebrate.

I think Magic's story and characters should reflect its diverse fanbase. The trans men in the Magic community deserve to have our stories told. Not only so others will understand our struggles, but so they can learn to share our joy. I want to show others who I am, and that I'm happy to be me.

Jace's character shows that people are receptive to these stories, and that in some cases, we have secretly been there all along. I'm just hoping for the day we can step proudly into the spotlight.

#MTG #jace beleren #gwunky #analysis

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loliwrites · 5 months

Text

The One You Need | two

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, past relationships, men vs boys, sexual tension, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, reader described as female, no other physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.1k part one | joel miller masterlist a/n: i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. & tagging @hausofobsession because charlie's the best

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

It had been three and a half weeks since move in day and a few things had become abundantly clear about your new surroundings.

1. Having your own place rocked. You did what you wanted. You answered to no one. If you wanted to have a one person dance party at two in the morning, you did. No downstairs neighbors hollered and banged on their ceiling – your floor. You could paint the walls whatever color you wanted and tear up the flooring if you had the impulse to. Nothing ever again had to be “renter friendly” .

2. Having your own place was a lot of work. There were any number of things that seemed to break, leak, or hang crooked on any given day and instead of ringing up a landlord and complaining, you could only complain to yourself… And then figure out how to fix the broken, leaky, or wonky thing. And it boggled your mind how dust and grime seemed to manifest out of nothingness. Rooms you don’t even remember stepping foot into had somehow acquired a thin film of dust. You were constantly cleaning something or fixing something, and in the most unfortunate of times, your cleaning of something resulted in you also needing to fix it. If anything, owning a home had reinforced to you that you were indeed the man in your life.

3. Joel Miller was practically the mayor of the neighborhood. Everyone knew him. It was impossible to spend any amount of time in the yard and not be bombarded with Joel Miller, Joel Miller, Joel Miller. While he wasn’t particularly outgoing, he seemed to be there when someone needed help. Whether it was Mrs. Cole with her grocery bags or the young, single mother next door to him who needed someone to put her son’s basketball hoop together. He was an everyman. And though he had helped you in a big way on your first day as part of the neighborhood, you’d spent the past few weeks dodging him as much as possible.

4. And lastly, you needed his help again. At some point during the week, a foul odor had wafted through the entirety of your home. And short of thinking an animal had crawled up and died within the walls, you began scouring the house with as much disinfectant as your sense of smell would allow. Every inch of every room was scrubbed down, and when that still didn’t get rid of the odor, you figured it was time to call an exterminator. Dehydrated, hungry, and about to snap, you opened the refrigerator and was punched in the face by warm, smelly air that burned your nose more than the disinfectant. Ah, the source.

How long the fridge hadn’t been working, you didn’t know. What you did know was that all the perishables – namely the dairy products – had certainly perished. And after three hours on the phone with a local handyman you’d found online, his ultimate advice was, “get a new refrigerator”. On a normal day, that was easily said and done. You would’ve ordered one the same day and gotten it delivered the next. Only, you’d spent the week prior throwing an obscene amount of money at new furniture to fill the oodles and oodles of empty space you now found yourself inhabiting.

You had genuinely thought about asking Joel for help that same day. At least to get the fridge out of the house because you were sure the smell wouldn’t leave until the entire appliance did. But when you looked out your window, his truck wasn’t in his driveway. And it didn’t arrive back until late that night. There was no way you were going to burden him so late, so you cracked some windows and told yourself you’d ask him in the morning. But the next morning when you Houdini’d yourself out of bed and made a pot of coffee, his truck was already out of the driveway again. An hour and a half later of throwing everything out and deep cleaning it, the fridge didn’t nearly smell as bad. And after a while, you kind of just let it be.

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Saturday. A day of rest. Except you were standing on Joel’s porch, curling your hand into a fist to rap your knuckles against his door, about to ask him to do a little work. A shred of guilt was growing inside of you. Yes, he had said to reach out if you needed something. He’d been nothing but neighborly. But you knew what you were doing. The thing where you use a boy for your gain but have nothing to offer in return.

Joel opened his front door, breathing a little heavier than normal with a sheen of sweat over his face and down his neck. He appeared to be completely clothed, but whether or not you’d caught him in a state of undress and he threw this on, you had no idea. From what you’d observed by peeking out your front window, the single mother that lived next door to him seemed to have a little bit of a crush. Perhaps that crush was reciprocated on his end.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You squinted your eyes shut and partially shielded them with your hand.

“What?” He looked down at himself, tugging on his shirt, “no, I just got in from doing yard work out back.” Joel took a deep breath and slowly let it exhale. He remembered when he could be working hard all day and not even feel it. Now there were days when he went up the stairs in his house and got winded. “How ya’ doin?”

“Good, I… I need your help again,”

Joel grinned, something cheeky that you wanted to slap right off his face.

“Don’t look too excited about it. My fridge is on the fritz and it’s too heavy for me to move,”

There was a part of him that wanted to bring to attention that this was the second time in less than a month that you were coming to him for help. Ultimately he thought better of it. The hard line of your lips and narrowness of your eyes clued him in that you were waiting to rebuke anything he might say. Instead he disappeared from the doorway, leaving you utterly confused, only to return a minute later with an old metal toolbox in hand. He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.

“No, it’s not getting fixed. I’m getting a new one,”

He quirked his eyebrows and looked down at you, “that fridge is only three years old.” He stepped off his porch and started toward your house.

You took a few quick steps to catch up with him, falling in line and then keeping up that pace to stay even with him. It did look like a fairly modern make. “How do you know that?”

“‘Cause I helped Mrs. Wilson get it in her house three years ago. I’d told her to get that fridge because I knew it’d last. Now unless you or Mrs. Wilson did something on it that it’s not meant for, it should still be perfectly fine.”

“What’re you implying?”

Joel shot a wink in your direction, “you have any male suitors over lately? Get a little frisky in the kitchen over dinner?”

Your jaw dropped as you followed Joel up your porch steps. “No! You can see my house from your house. You know I haven’t had anyone over,”

“I don’t spy on my neighbors.” He walked through your door after you’d opened it for him, “are you spyin’ on me?”

“No, I’m not,” you protested, leading him into the kitchen and directing him toward the problem appliance. “But I do know that next-door neighbor of yours, fancies you,”

“Fancies me?”

“Mhm. She twirls her hair every time she talks to you,”

Joel set the toolbox down on the counter and angled his body at the fridge, “does she now?” He wrapped his arms around it, fingers gripping to the sides, and began to shimmy the entire thing out from its little cubbyhole.

The whole display was rather impressive. Despite actively not yearning or searching for a relationship, acts of masculinity did get you going. It was the double-edged sword that lived inside you. Boys – can’t live with them; can’t live without them. Just because you couldn’t rely on men, didn’t mean the desire to sleep with them wasn’t there. But even you knew, that under no circumstances, were you to sleep or have any sort of sexual contact with Joel Miller. Even if he was a rugged display of masculinity. With sinewy muscles that strained beneath his skin when he flexed them. And fingers that surely knew how to wrap around more than just the handle end of a hammer. He was your neighbor. You weren’t going to shit where you ate. But by God if he didn’t look like a delicious meal.

It’s the reason you picked up so quickly on the tell-tale signs of attraction by Little Miss Next Door Neighbor. She was looking at him the way all women did when they wanted to be swept up by a man. They wanted to be handled, and led, and submissive. Something you could never be. To a man? Absolutely not.

This argument you were having with no one but yourself was interrupted when Joel called your name with a tone that indicated to you it wasn’t the first or second time he was calling it. You blinked and focused your eyes, finding he was only partially visible – most of him being shrouded by the fridge that he now stood behind.

“S’not working because it’s dirty. Do you have a handheld vacuum?”

Approaching him, you contorted your body around it to sneak a peek at what he was looking at. “It stopped working because it’s dirty?”

“Could be somethin’ faulty inside, but the condenser coils and gasket seals are a mess. My guess is it’s just that,”

“I called some handyman and he told me I needed a brand new fridge,”

Joel peeked his head out to look at you, “why you callin’ some random handyman when you got one ‘cross the street?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I was going to but you worked weird hours this week and were never home when I looked out my window.”

“So you are spying on me,” he chuckled. “That’s why you’re jealous of Kelly,”

“Who’s jealous?!” It wasn’t lost on you that your voice rose about an octave or two higher than your normal register. You were sure Joel clocked that, too. “I’m just making sure you know she’s got a big ol’ schoolgirl crush on you,”

“She doesn’t ‘cause we’ve gone out before and it wasn’t a match.”

“Does she know that?”

“I’d say she does,”

You smirked, having a little fun poking the bear. “How do you know?”

“Because when a woman gets naked and propositions a man for sex, and he says no, it’s usually a pretty definitive sign.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed incredulously, “no man looks at a woman who’s ready to fuck and says no to her.”

“This man does,” he looked you dead in the eyes and held your gaze. “You got a vacuum?”

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The resoluteness of Joel’s answer had honestly come as a shock. It was something you knew you’d want to circle back on at some point simply because of how insane it seemed. A straight guy turning down sex from a woman? He had to have been the first man in history to do so. The thought kept you busy while your refrigerator kept him busy. Coincidentally, you both became significantly less busy around the same time.

“It works again?”

Joel plugged the fridge back into the wall and stepped out from behind it. He wiped his hands in a rag you’d brought out for him, which just happened to be one of your old, white t-shirts. He didn’t seem to care. Or notice. “Gotta give it a few minutes. See if it’s gettin’ cold,'' he looked up at you, noting how you began to get a little more fidgety, looking around. He wasn’t sure why; perhaps just itching to get him out of your house. “You got any food for dinner?”

“Yeah,” you said half-heartedly, thinking about how you were about to endure yet another day of some sad, canned soup. “I can whip up a can of something,”

He shook his head and waved you off, “come by tonight. I’ll fix you a meal,”

“You just fixed my fridge.”

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“I should be cooking you a meal,”

He shook his head vehemently, “I haven’t eaten chicken noodle soup since I was about nine, and I don’t aim to start up again.” He pulled open the fridge door, set his hands on one of the shelves and decided it was slightly colder than it had been just a couple minutes prior. “It should be good to go now,” he loaded up his toolbox and locked it up. “Swing by around seven. If you stand me up, I’m coming back over here and breaking the damn thing,”

“Joel,”

“Seven.”

With that, he was out before you could protest again. Somehow both of you knew you’d be showing up to his house that night. Annoyance bubbled up at your surface with the realization that not only did you know you weren’t going to disobey him, but he knew it too. The few hours between him leaving and you showing back up on his porch for dinner had been spent sulking. Whatever this was becoming – you weren’t sure what just friendship looked like with a boy because no single, unattached boy you’d ever met only wanted friendship – was getting to be too much. There needed to be a line drawn in the sand. You needed to draw the line in the sand. And more importantly, after the line was drawn, you and Joel needed to be securely on opposite sides of it.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

But curse this man and his ability to put ideas in your head. Horrible, awful, domestic ideas. The sorts of ideas that made you think this image of him: on the back porch with a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, a dish towel slung over his shoulder for quick access, flipping over and inspecting a couple steaks, chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered how close to medium they were getting… was an image you could get used to seeing.

It was how all boys in the past had gotten you.

They wooed you with their little acts here and there of masculinity. Or their wit. Or just cute looks. They made you believe that they were different. That they were honest, and open, and evolved. And you’d get sucked in and follow the white rabbit down the hole. For a while it’d all be good. You would actually believe that you had found an evolved man that you could coexist with and be happy. But after the momentary bliss, you’d come to realize that the wool had been pulled over your eyes. You’d been deceived and lied to. The boy could not manage his own emotions, let alone understand yours. You’d sit in the anger that you betrayed your sense of self to make room for this boy, and only when you’d talked yourself far enough off the ledge, you’d explode like a time bomb. Afterwards, a tiny piece of you would be the only thing left to go around picking up all the other little fragments of yourself. And you’d put yourself back together with tape and a promise that you wouldn’t ever allow another to break you like that again. That is, until another boy found his way to you and made you think he was different. And thus the cycle continued.

“You have family out here?” Joel looked up from the barbecue and took a sip of his beer while he waited for you to answer.

Taking a step forward and buying some time by swigging down a gulp of your beer, you shook your head. “They’re all in California still. Just had to get away. What about you?”

He nodded and closed the grill, “Sarah’s a few hours away at school and her mom’s ‘bout a half hour away. But my brother’s here. I work with him actually,”

“You must be close with him,”

Joel nodded absently.

“But no wife for Joel Miller,” you smiled, half-hidden by your bottle. “I take it no girlfriend either since apparently you don’t like getting laid,”

He laughed. It was the first real, hearty laugh you’d heard from him. It seemed to shake his whole body and he opened the grill back up and plucked the steaks off it, depositing them on an awaiting plate. “I like getting laid. It might be my favorite thing to do,”

“That’s why I think you’re full of shit. Turning down, what’s her name…”

“Kelly…”

“You’re telling me,” you approached Joel slowly, got right up close to him, and dragged a delicate finger over one of his shoulders and down his bicep to prove a point. “A woman… an attractive woman, I’d say… stripped down in front of you, told you to have your way with her, and you said no thanks,”

Joel watched your finger. His tongue poked out of his mouth quickly to lick his lips before he flashed his eyes back to you, obviously finding great pleasure that his gaze in this close proximity made you avert your own eyes downward. “Exactly,”

You half-smiled and shook your head as you took a step back, “bullshit.”

He shut off the grill and scooped the plate up. “Explain to me why you think that’s bullshit,” he meandered past you and pulled his back door open, allowing you the chance to walk in first before he followed you in.

Instinctively, you progressed into the kitchen, where two stools at the counter were awaiting with place settings. You perched in one while Joel set the steaks down by you and continued to the oven where he pulled out a tray of roasted vegetables. “Because you’re a guy,”

“Man,” he corrected and started placing food on your plate.

“A man,” you mocked. When he finished giving you food and moved onto his, “thank you. And men don’t do that. They chase pleasure. They get their dick wet and they move on down the line, leaving a path of destruction in their wake,”

This time, Joel waited to respond until he was seated next to you. He clinked his bottle against yours, “thanks for coming over.”

“To be honest, I was actually afraid you’d blow up my fridge and I can’t really afford a new one right now,”

“But I’m gonna have to disagree with you,” he focused on his plate and cut into his steak. Seemingly pleased with the degree with which it was cooked, he took a first bite. “Men don’t only care, as you so delicately put, about getting their dick wet.”

“Joel, come on, you know…”

“Boys do. For sure. A boy would look at you, a beautiful woman, and see a direct path to his pleasure. Absolutely. And a boy probably wouldn’t care too much about whether or not you were getting as much out of it as he was. ‘Cause he’s getting his, right?”

You nodded, silently pushing a mixture of steak and veggies into your mouth, enraptured with where he was going to take this conversation. And slightly unable to concentrate past the point of having heard him call you beautiful.

“Men don’t do that. A man would look at you and see that yes, you’re a beautiful woman. But he’d also see that you’ve got a helluva brain, and you’re witty, and funny, and more than a little stubborn. He’d see that you hold yourself and everyone else to a high standard, and he’d want to meet it. And when he slept with you, he’d want to make sure you were getting more out of it than he was,”

Awe-struck was the only word to describe how you felt. Was a guy actually verbalizing everything you already believed? That there was a difference between boys and men. And that most guys thought they were men simply because of their age, when you knew age meant nothing in defining a man.

Joel took a deep breath and finished off his beer, “I turned Kelly down because I knew if I slept with her I’d be taking on a lot more than I wanted to with her. And despite whatever your experience with men might be, this one’s not out to leave a path of destruction behind him.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

What were these complicated feelings inside of you? Someone who prided themselves on being emotionally intelligent and level-headed and yet… you were spinning like a top. On the one hand you wanted to keep everyone a safe arm’s length away, and on the other you wanted Joel to scale the walls you’d constructed and fortified around yourself. For a long time there was an odd sense of accomplishment at how tall and strong you’d managed to build them. Look at how good they were at keeping people out. But now there was someone in front of you that you thought you wanted to let in – only in constructing your walls, you never put in a gate. And that ribbon of apathy, and the moments of enduring loneliness, maybe it was all self-inflicted.

Who knew how to hurt you better than you?

The beer helped dull those thoughts. Finishing off the second as the conversation meandered through Joel’s last relationship. A topic that would’ve given you supreme pause, and yet he recounted it with ease as if he were just a court reporter, tasked with jotting down the facts. He even acknowledged his role in the dissolution of that relationship. His eyes seemed to glaze over and travel to a distant land as he described all the ways he didn’t measure up. How he was never quite what that woman wanted. And how he had no idea how to become what she wanted. On the flip side, he admitted she’d started off as someone that only saw the moon with him. She’d kept some nights from being too cold and lonely. Only when a certain amount of time passed, did she speak up and sort of declare a relationship was there.

That conversation ended when a third bottle was grabbed for each and moved to the living room. Both on the couch, you with your back pressed up against one of the arm’s of it. Your knees bent with feet planted securely on the cushion. And Joel sitting as close as he could with your legs creating a physical boundary between you. Even his thigh covered your toes, as if seeing how close to the boundary he could get. Despite feeling like this was someone you wanted to let through your walls, however temporarily, your brain still managed to cut off any inkling from your heart – using your body as the vehicle to keep everyone at bay.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed and grabbed your attention back to the present. “‘S’not fair leaving me hanging after I just spilled all my gory relationship details. What about yours?”

You shook your head, trying to appear innocent, “there’s not much to say.”

“Say anything,”

Staring at him, you took a deep breath and a generous sip of your new beer. Then feeling on the good side of buzzed, you stretched forward to move for the coffee table. Seeing your plight and the awkwardness of the angle given that you weren’t inclined to lower your legs to make the action smoother, Joel leaned forward, gently took the bottle from your hands and set it on the table for you.

“He was nice at the start. A bit older than me. I thought it meant we’d be on the same wavelength for once, y’know? That he’d outgrown the frat boy, tool bag phase and moved into a more evolved one. It got physical quick and it was… awful.” You glanced down at your hands, remembering for the first time in a while about what sleeping with that guy felt like – a trial run with hari-kari, complete and self-inflicted betrayal.

With your pause and sensing obvious discomfort, Joel reached across his body and got a loose grip on your shin. He gave it a soft squeeze that felt like permission to stop if you were so inclined. But it didn’t hurt like it used to; as if you had been able to remove yourself from the equation and were now just recounting the plot of some terrible film you’d seen once.

Shrugging and with a half-smile he couldn’t place, you looked back up at Joel, “he had a good time.”

“Was it ever good for you?” He mumbled as though he didn’t actually want to hear the answer. And because you hadn’t reacted in any way to his hand on your shin, he took a chance and used that grip to lower your leg across his lap.

“No, but I’m a helluva actress.”

He raised his eyebrows and absently took hold of your other leg and lowered that one across his lap, too. Now the literal barrier you’d put between you had been carefully circumvented. “He never stopped to figure it out?”

You shook your head, “he was getting his, Joel. See, it’s hard to figure out when you’re dealing with a boy. They hide it well,”

Joel reached forward and set his half-empty beer next to yours on the coffee table. When he reclined back to his previous position, his hands migrated to your feet and squeezed them with a familiarity of an old married couple who’d been practicing this dance for decades.

“It ended two and a half years ago, so a distant memory,”

He only nodded. You thought he’d have something about that. Something like what’ve you been doing for two years without a man. But maybe he figured you were doing just fine. Probably better. So he only squeezed your feet again before his hands migrated a little further north to your knees, fingers just barely dipping between your thighs that you’d managed to keep pressed together. Finally he asked:

“No fillers in the meantime?”

It made you laugh. Any number of innuendo could be applied to his question. It was also at this point that you felt your resolve fading. The will to keep him at bay becoming less of a conscious effort. “No fillers. Not really my style,”

“Not a one night stand kinda girl?” He smirked and shot a playful glance at you. There was no chance he was unaware that the press of your thighs together had lessened. Any further action of his hand would’ve resulted in him going wherever he wanted, however he wanted. But he didn’t. His hand remained where it was, gaining no further purchase and adding no extra pressure.

“Would you be if sex was never good for you?”

He chuckled and threw his head back against the couch, “fair enough.” He shook his head, absently staring at the ceiling. Only when he’d gathered his thoughts and words did he shift his gaze back to you. “People are simple creatures,” there was a slight pause and though you opened your mouth to refute that, he continued first. “I mean the biology part. It’s not hard to get a woman off,”

“Okay, hotshot. Let me go get a horn for you to toot a little louder,”

He grinned widely, showing off nearly every tooth in his mouth. The look made you smile as well – like a kid getting caught opening presents before Christmas. “There’s a lot of hard tasks in this world,” he pursed his lips and shrugged, “making a woman come isn’t one of them.”

The heat you’d felt rising in your chest and neck after he’d successfully moved your mattress into your bedroom was returning. Only this time, you felt it settle in your cheeks, and you wondered if he was aware of it. Your eyes were glued to him, wide, trying to pick up on as much visual information they could get. What you found was Joel adding the slightest of pressure between your knees to spread your thighs just enough for him to pivot on the couch and face you squarely.

You swallowed down a lump in your throat, eyes flicking over the sight of him: the way graying curls moved across his forehead, or the way his eyes never left yours. Not even for a second. Not even when he was positioning himself closer to you, kneeling back on his shins with his thighs nudging yours upward at an angle. He smiled softly, a gentle thing that instantly put you at greater ease, and leaned in closer to you, planting his hands on the couch on either side of your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” His focus wandered down to your lips when they parted.

In all your years of life, no one had ever asked that, and it took you aback, scrambling to make sense of the English you believed you were fluent in. But you nodded quickly and assumed that would’ve been the green light. Probably would’ve for most people, but as you were coming to learn, Joel wasn’t quite like most people.

He smiled and bowed his head, taking a breath to gather himself. In the meantime, his hair was close to your nose and the muskiness of his scent was everything you thought and wanted it to be. He raised his head and looked at you again, his eyes practically pleading. “Can we make that verbal?”

“Yes,” you exhaled. But when it didn’t result in his lips meeting yours with haste, you tried again. “Kiss me,”

Like a fire ignited under him, Joel closed the rest of the gap between you. Hands drifting to your cheeks, he cupped your head with the most practiced of ease and pressed his mouth to yours, first with closed lips to test the waters before the next action was the parting of his lips on yours. His tongue searched for entrance into your mouth, finding it when a soft breath was exhaled.

While trying not to talk yourself out of this moment, you also tried to think about the last time you’d been kissed like this. Or kissed at all, period. But like this, with want, and desire, and passion. Like all of Joel was made for this exact moment: to kiss you with the intention of every fiber of his being; to make your brain go foggy and blur out everything that did not add to this need. It was as if he could sense you slipping away from him, focused elsewhere instead of letting yourself buy into this, and he recaptured you with a soft bite to your lower lip. He re-positioned his hands; one at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other gripping onto your hip, adjusting you further until your ass was pressed up against his crotch.

He forced himself to pull back, slight enough to be able to speak but still close enough to press his forehead against yours. “Stay with me. Don’t go somewhere else,”

Your instinct was to protest, that you weren’t about to leave, but realized he’d picked up on the thing you were wondering about. The thing no guy had ever picked up on, or cared to, before. The distance your brain was willing to create between itself and your body.

“Joel,” you whispered, sounding slightly more needy than you would’ve hoped.

“I know,” he murmured back. His hand ditched your hip for a split second and took hold of your wrist. Led it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck, until the backs of your fingers brushed along the ends of his hair. Without fail, you softly clutched into it. “Stay with me. Right here,” his hand went back to your hip and your lips reconnected. Open-mouthed with his tongue pressing into yours. He tilted his head to the side and groaned into your mouth, sending a vibration down your throat, past your chest, through your stomach, and straight to your core.

You hummed back into his mouth, for once closing your eyes and letting yourself live in the feeling his lips could administer. The heat that had already been living in your cheeks seemed to amplify with the size of him around you. His broad shoulders meeting a wide chest that seemed to dwarf you. Large hands that effortlessly cupped around your hip or engulfed your cheek. He was everywhere at once and when he ducked his head lower to kiss your neck, landing a love bite on your jugular, it took extra measures to keep yourself grounded and there for him.

Your hand slowly released the hair at the nape of his neck, and slid down over his shoulder to his chest, followed the seam at the side of his t-shirt until your fingertips reached the hem at the bottom. With fingers tucking beneath the fabric and meeting the skin at his oblique, you felt him exhale a hot breath against your neck, his hips shifting beneath you. As you ran your hand north, you took stock of the muscles your fingers passed, and how while still present and firm, they’d grown less pronounced with age. A softness to his body that he’d earned the right to after years of hard labor. Or so you assumed by the feeling of calloused hands on you.

Gauging what you wanted from him as your hands worked their way upward, pushing his shirt up with them, he groaned not wanting to take his lips off your neck, but doing so anyway to sit back. With a swift motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor unceremoniously. He wiped his hand down over his mouth and shook his head as if in disbelief as he pressed his hands back into the couch on either side of you, “god, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

His eyes danced their way over every feature on your face as if trying to commit them to memory, before they drifted lower, down to where your hips met his. But all this unadulterated looking sparked a flame of timidness inside you, and your instinct to quell the nerves was to grab for him, urging him back to you. If he was busy with his lips on you – any part of you – it’d keep his eyes from boring holes into you. His lips met yours again with fervor, this time forcing his tongue into your mouth. A helpless moan floated out of your throat and Joel responded by laying a hand at your neck. Fingers around it but applying no pressure.

“Bed. Please,” you whispered so low you wondered if you had wanted him to hear it or not.

But it was like he was attuned to you and your body more than any previous guy had been. And in hearing your request, he moved his lips back to your neck and you felt a smile spread across his face, pressing against your skin.

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”

You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”

“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.

“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”

“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.

You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #almost there in part 3 #the one you need #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #au #neighbor!joel

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greycaelum · 7 months

Text

If you saw your father die... What would you do?

It seems more susceptible to be standing there and wallowing in grief. Because who are you to join in the fight of the strongest?

If he were any younger Kouki would've been beyond traumatized to see his father in his own pool of blood as the clear crystal relive the thousands of past and future passing through his eyes.

He has always believed his father is the strongest. A man unmoved and undefeated by his own rights. So if he sees the scene of his father's lifeless body, torn apart and mangled by a familiar face, his heart breaks apart into thousands of pieces.

"Kou? Sweetheart?"

You called out from the kitchen only to feel a weight hug your leg, followed by series of inconsolable sobs. Worry immediately overtook your heart to see your son crying without any explanation.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart? Hmmm? What happened?" You kneeled down and held his shoulder, wiping his tears with your thumb. "Shhh, shush dear, what's wrong?"

"P-Papa!" He called out brokenhearted.

"Wh-? Kou... Sweetheart..."

You frown softened and shushed him even more. Your eight years old son was having a trouble articulating his words without remembering the grotesque scene the crystal marble flashed in his eyes.

You gathered him in your arms, hugging him tight while telling him how to breathe and calm himself down. You stroke his head, shushing and assuring him until he slumped to your shoulders and the sobs turned to sniffles.

"Did you see something bad, Sweetheart?" You held Kouki in your arms, his ear pressed against your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat as the two of you sat on the floor, with you cradling his small body in the security of your arms and presence.

"Papa... he was all bloody and..." Kouki hugged your neck. "I don't like it... I want Papa home Mama."

Kouki hid his face in the nook of your neck and asked for a very tight hug which you obliged. Stroking his long silvery lilac locks he inherited from Satoru and the puffy orbs he got from you.

You wish you could do that too. You wish he was home right now. If he's home, then maybe, just maybe things would be easier.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. It's okay..."

The door opened followed by Saika's loud footsteps.

"Mama!"

You looked up to see Satoru peering down at you and Kouki on the floor, confused.

"Hey Baby, what are you doing on the floor with Kikufuku?"

Kouki immediately ran to Satoru's arms prompting his father to kneel down beside you on the floor and gather his son into his strong arms.

"What's wrong Kikufuku? Why's my buddy crying? Mnnn?"

You watch your father and son converse in their own world. Satoru talked with Kouki in his arms, whispering something to the little boy's ears, calming him down and eventually hugging his father's neck, a lot better and calmer.

"Mama, Papa and I bought more plushies for Sunshines! Look, look, we got light blue and royal blue." Saika sat down beside you and put her hand over your growing belly. "You think Sunshines, will like them?" Saika look up to you with hopeful eyes.

You pat her head, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Of course... They will love it, Sweetie." Saika beamed at your reply and animatedly talked to your baby bump.

Kouki had to sleep after the stressful session with his manifesting cursed technique. Saika went to sleep beside her brother too that leaves you and Satoru on your bedroom, in each others arms while a movie is running on the background. Satoru totally spoiled you with the ending so you didn't bother watching it and instead relished on the calming way his hand rub your back and from time to time the soft kisses to your forehead followed by the caress on your baby bump.

"Kouki said..." Satoru started with a sigh. "He saw me dying. On Shibuya... That fight with Sukuna."

A sad smile graced your lips as you snuggled yourself closer to his arms.

"It's so crazy how thousands of possible scenario could happen in one moment..." Satoru kissed your temple. "How I couldn't possibly be here right now with you, if I just made that one wrong decision back then."

"But you didn't. You're here with me, with us Satoru." You cut him off. His idea of possibly losing his life on that tragedy pinched your heart. "You're here at my arms, at our home. That's what matters to me the most. The myriad of possible futures could go and burn down, as long as I get you back home."

Satoru stared at you and slowly nodded. A future without you... It's hard to imagine for him.

"I don't care about the possible futures Satoru... I will find that one possible future out of the millions there is as long as I can have you... I only want the future that has you." You said with conviction, a bit angry for him to think of possibly leaving this world without you.

"Me too Baby... I only want the future with you... and our children." Satoru nods, taking your lips into his soft ones, replacing the bitter imagination with his soft, delicate kisses, filling your mind with his presence and his touch until you forget the memory and override it with his touch and his love.

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

—Grey,

#[grey talks: my love]#gojo satoru #kaleidoscope series #gojo satoru x reader #jjk dad gojo #jjk married gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo kouki #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #husband gojo x wife reader #jjk dad gojo satoru #gojo saika #greycaelum

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neteyamsyawntu · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 13

I n P u b l i c

Neteyam x Na’vi!Reader

PART 2 of ACCIDENTAL STIMULATION

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, teasing, making out, dry humping/grinding intimates, secret relationship, in public.

“Tonight… after the clan’s meal, meet with me at the top of hometree, by the ikran nest…please…”

His voice rang in your head as you cleaned up your materials, Neteyam had followed after Tsantì and Kiri not long after they themselves had left the healer’s hut. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest, how could you even last through dinner? Just the thought of possibly catching his eye throughout the night made your stomach flutter. You had cleaned up the hut faster than you ever had that evening, your nerves forcing your body into hyperdrive as you anticipated what was to come.

Anxiety pumping through your veins, you sheepishly made your way up the winding trunk of hometree toward where the clan was already getting into their spots surrounding a large fire, crackling in the center of the commotion, all while trying to look as normal as possible. Your eyes absentmindedly scanned the crowd for a familiar set of amber eyes, which you found all too easily as they had been looking for you as well. Neteyam mentally fought the urge to go and sit with you, yet knew that it was probably against his better judgment in keeping your little secret under wraps. While your brain was working through a similar thought process, you suddenly stopped to watch as Tsantì made her way through the crowd, directly toward Neteyam. Her tail gracefully swaying behind her, her movements so soft and fluid like the air itself. Abruptly clearing your throat to cover up the hint of jealousy that manifested when Neteyam was forced to take his eyes off of you to acknowledge Tsantì, you made your way to the opposite end of the clan’s circle, finding an open spot just across from Neteyam, putting you just in his peripheral aside from the view of the fire.

While the clan seemingly busied themselves in conversation and filling their bellies for the night, you found yourself incredibly distracted, slowly feeding yourself pieces of teylu, as you watched Tsantì scoot closer and closer to Neteyam. You never took her for the bold type, but perhaps you were wrong about her. Maybe there was more you had yet to learn about Tsantì. Leaning forward you grab an available piece of yovo fruit and of course, just at the very moment you place your hand over its smooth surface, who catches your eye other than the eldest son of the Olo’eyktan. While Tsantì was continuing to chat Neteyam’s ear off, an idea had flickered in your mind that had the potential to make things more… exciting. Sitting back in your space, you lift the fruit to your lips, taking a slow yet wide bite, letting its juices splash your face when your fangs make the first puncture. Neteyam watched intriguingly as you lowered the fruit to chew. It’s sticky substance was running down your neck from your jaw, making a complete mess of yourself. Neteyam was visibly aroused, shifting in his seat to seemingly cover up his reappearing boner. A sly smirk grew on your lips as you watched him squirm in his seat, repeating the act of chewing your food carelessly, before bringing your hand to your mouth, letting your lips wrap seductively around your sticky fingers to suck them dry one by one.

Neteyam’s eyes were completely on you now, only shifting to look at Tsantì for a quick second before turning his focus back to you. His cock throbbed painstaking in his loincloth which he now resorted to covering up with a subtle movement of his palm. Never did you think you could have this much power over someone like this, yet it was admittedly addicting to watch. You wanted to see how far you could push him, how long it would take to get him to snap. It didn’t take long when you dipped a moist finger into the valley of your breasts to “clean” yourself of the yovo juice, bringing the digit to your lips again when you saw Neteyam hurriedly excuse himself from the meal, wishing Tsantì a goodnight, as a hint for her not to follow after him.

After waiting a bit of time after his departure, you sneakily made your way to follow him around the corner where he had seemingly gone up to the top of hometree like the two of you had discussed. With your eyes over your shoulder to double check that no one was following you, a sudden yelp breaks from your throat as you are pulled out of view from the rest of the clan. With your back pressed against the rough bark of hometree, Neteyam’s lips found their way to yours, his fingers digging into your sides pulling you flush against his body. “That was quite a show you put on out there.” Neteyam mused once he had finally separated from the kiss. “And still so messy… mind if I help you clean up?” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth with a smirk, you nod your head watching as Neteyam moves down to your chest, allowing his tongue to sneak out past his lips licking from between your breasts, all the way up your neck to your jaw, sucking and lapping at the sticky remnants of the yovo juice on your skin. “Mmm… Neteyam- what if someone sees us?” You whisper, trying to hold back your noises as he bites softly into your neck, “Just keep that pretty voice down and we should have nothing to worry about. Can you stay quiet for me, yawne?”.

Yawne, the nickname rang in your ears like a song being sung directly to your heart. It was one that you gladly accepted. “Yes…” you speak gently wrapping your arms around him, pressing a hand to the back of his head as he resumes his work on your neck, littering it with kisses and love bites. Heat painted your face in a deep blush as his affections grew more intense, moving his hands from your waist to drift toward your lower back, cupping your ass in both of his large palms, spreading and kneading its flesh hungrily. You all but melt into his touch, pushing your pelvis to meet his own, allowing his clothed erection to rub against your thigh. His hips jerk slightly at the sudden contact before reciprocating the act by firmly pressing you against him.

Feeling the longing of his lips to be pressed against your own, you slip a finger under his chin to guide him to you, letting your lips collide in a heat of passion, his tongue gliding over your lips sloppily, yet you welcomed regardless, parting your lips to allow your tongue to mingle with his. Your tongues danced together to the beat of your own hearts. The risk of getting caught still very prevalent in your mind. To be caught in such a scandal, with the future chief of your clan with his tongue down your throat, would definitely turn some heads and raise certain alarms. Although the more greedily Neteyam continued to swirl his tongue around yours, the more you found yourself growing weak to his advances, wanting nothing more than to please him and give him anything he wanted. Finally the two of you pull away from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips, but ultimately snapping.

Neteyam huffs pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes to savor the moment; imbedding the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, the remaining taste of you on his tongue, all to memory, “I want to keep touching you like this forever…” Neteyam hums, his head drifting down to the side of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent, “…Want to be inside you…”, his hands adjust their grip on your ass, allowing one of his fingers to swipe along your clothed folds, while his other hand moves to wrap gently around your throat, “I want to own you…”. Neteyam’s eyes glimmered in the dim illumination of both yours and his bioluminescent freckles. He looks so sincere, yet so undeniably thirsty for you.

“I want that too…” you whisper, sliding your hands to glide over the toned muscles of his chest, tracing your fingers on the deep blue striped that decorated them. Neteyam’s eyes flicker between both of yours before leaning back a bit to check around the corner to observe the area. Everyone seemed to still be gleefully enjoying their meals, filling hometree with laughter and loud conversation. That seemed to be enough for him, “Is this really what you want? Am I what you want?” Neteyam asks in a serious tone, his hand moving from your neck to clutch one of your own that rested on his chest. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you right now.” Your words were so honest and unwavering, you almost felt embarrassed by how confidently you spoke them.

A kind and loving smile rose on Neteyam’s face as he pulled you in for a numbingly gentle kiss, “Good… that’s all I needed to know.” He says, as his smile grows into a playful smirk, hooking both of his hands under your ass to lift you into his arms, your own instinctively wrapping around his neck to keep you stable, while he locks your legs around his middle, pressing your body impossibly close to his as he pins you against the rough bark of the tree, before reclaiming your lips. Your hips greedily moving on their own to grind against his bulge that now pressed gorgeously against your barely covered pussy lips.

Your brows pinched together as you rocked against his erection, the pressure in which his body was pinned against yours only furthered to give you enough leverage to grind your quickly dampening intimates against him. Neteyam contributed with a groan, fisting your ass in a manner that maneuvered your hips for you, making you move exactly how he wanted you to. Craving more and to be free from the rough fabric that was your increasingly growing uncomfortable tewng, carefully shifting a hand between the two do you to shift the fabric to the side, now giving your pussy lips enough space to embrace his boner perfectly as he pressed into you, stimulating your clit with the friction. Your eyes fluttered closed as your hands wandered his body, desperate to touch every inch of him that you could reach, your tail curling as a soft moan left your lips.

“I don’t get it… do you think I said something to upset him?”, Tsantì’s voice was heard around the corner, to which you immediately halted your movements. Your sudden stop manifested a confused look from Neteyam, especially when you put your hand over his mouth to hush him when his lips parted to speak. “Trust me it’s nothing you said. Neteyam can be a bit hard to get personal with at first.” The second voice was definitely Kiri. You mentally cursed, disassociating for a moment while you listened in on their conversation, trying to stay alert to any approaching movements. Grasping your wrist, Neteyam removes your hand from his mouth, his eyes staring into yours as a silent assurance that he would do everything in his power to keep you safe. Your heart hammered in your chest as you drank in his expression before he leaned his head down to attach his lips to your neck, to which Neteyam cautiously and rightly so, places his own hand over your mouth when a slight muffled whine escapes you. He didn’t want to stop, he wanted to push you as far as he could without sabotaging or giving away your location.

“You said you could stay quiet for me, remember? Be a good girl and be completely silent for me, yawne.” Neteyam purrs discreetly into your ear, then slowly continuing to grind his erection into your exposed cunt. Your eyes roll back before completely closing, as faint muffled noises emerge from beneath Neteyam’s hand, your body squirming against him to achieve more friction. Neteyam’s head remained beside your own, sucking and nibbling tenderly at your skin, obsessed with the heat that was generating from each of your bodies together. “Should I go and find him? I’d hate to have said something wrong only to have him avoid me…” Tsantì persists, walking closer to where you and Neteyam were just barely hidden out of sight. “Trust me Tsantì, Neteyam will come around, just give him some time.” Kiri urges her, taking her arm gently in her grasp. Your eyes clenched tightly hoping to disappear in the event that they strayed too close to your hiding spot. The way that Neteyam’s clothed cock head was caressing your clit, had you trembling, inching you closer and closer to your climax.

You choked back several whines and whimpers, until Neteyam’s hand was doing little to hold them back, and you buried your face in his neck, biting roughly onto its flesh as you forced your hips to move with Neteyam’s own grinding. Your back arched and writhed as you got closer, trying with every ounce of your body to hold it, but the way Neteyam’s body felt against you was all too addicting. You knew that if you came now, there would be no stopping the squeal of pleasure that emitted from you. “Come on, let’s go back to the clan, there is still plenty of food.” You both heard Kiri say followed by the sound of footsteps as they made their way back to the crowd. Neteyam’s pulled back, his hand clutching your jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You look so cute like this, yawne. You are so close aren’t you? I can see it in your face, your eyes are all glossy.” Neteyam breathily chuckles, kissing you firmly as he continues to rock against you, his tail slashing and curling behind him, watching as you come undone in front of him, “There you go, give it to me, my yawntutsyìp.”. Your head rolls back against the hard bark of hometree as you reach the peak of your high, lips parting in a silent scream before releasing a shaky exhale, letting your head flop onto Neteyam’s shoulder as you pant in exhaustion. Neteyam gives you a soft chuckle, placing a gentle kiss against your temple as you lay on his shoulder.

“You are perfect… I will make you mine, Y/N.. I promise that.”.

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aclowntiny · 7 months

Note

Hello 👋

Can I pls request seventeen reaction when they have a crush on female reader they haven't confessed yet and gets jealous when we hang out with our guy best friend more than them?

Thank you ❤️

Sure! As a girl with guy friends this is an interesting request for sure hehe 😁 sorry some are simpler than others, I just believe not all of them would be very jealous 😅 & that sometimes situations get misread so I mixed it up a few times! warning: long post ahead!!! hehe

Seventeen's Reaction to Their Crush's Guy Best Friend (F!Reader)

S.Coups

You were the cutest thing Seungcheol had ever seen. The way your lips pressed together when you thought, how wide you smiled when you got a pleasant shock…the way you’d given that same smile when he’d offered you his arm half-jokingly, half-seriously and you’d taken it, walking right alongside him like that.

So who was that guy making you smile and laugh? Why were you always dropping someone else’s name? Was he that dense or was this guy really just a good friend? Seungcheol wanted to be that name. He wanted to have you by his side, have plans with you as often as your self-described “movie buddy” you caught nearly every new flick with. He could feel his brow creasing whenever his eyes fell upon the guy, mostly out of confusion, but a touch out of something else, even though he knew he didn’t have the right.

He just wanted it, wanted it so bad it was practically motivation throughout the day. As if every task, every workout, was saving up more strength to finally have that conversation with you.

It came more quickly than he cared to admit, his feet carrying him right to you of their own accord. You were wearing his favorite color on you, and the smile you gave him when you turned around only spurred him on. He had to know. Had to make you his if there was any chance in the world. If not, that ‘buddy’ of yours had better treat you like a queen.

“Hi, Seungcheol!” You gave him a little wave and he thought his heart might burst. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen that new mystery that just came out?”

“Not yet,” you shook your head, “but hopefully soon, I’d really like to!”

“Oh, you haven’t made plans with your boyfriend for it yet?”

Your gape, the near-horror that crossed your eyes, was priceless in more ways than one. “That is not my boyfriend, that’s just my bestie! He’s my mom’s best friend’s son, and he’s so not my type!”

Passion took hold of Seungcheol, a wave of adrenaline like he could barely describe. “I see! I wanted to respect your relationship to him above anything, but if that’s the case… Can I ask you out to go see it?”

“Of course!” You grin. “I keep telling him to get a girlfriend to take to all these movies anyway! I only like you.”

It took everything in Seungcheol not to kiss you right then and there.

Jeonghan

“Well, what am I supposed to think?”

“She said they were just friends!”

“She also sits really close to him.”

Jeonghan was sick and tired of that same old argument. Sick and tired of wondering who that guy you took everywhere with them was, even if he was really nice. The others tried their hands at blind reassurance, but Jeonghan was the type to get information himself, and the way you two had sat so close, chairs pushed nearly as much as possible together and legs brushing, was the final straw.

One conversation and he would know. Would leave you alone and smile through the knowledge that he was too late, come to accept it in time. All he had to do was play his cards just right, and if there was one thing he was good at it was that.

You were happy that night. Having a great time out with Seventeen, laughing at Soonyoung’s antics after he’d had one too many, stealing lots of glances Jeonghan’s way that had his heart leaping and easy smile manifesting. Your ‘best friend’ couldn’t make it, so it was the perfect time to work his hook into the conversation.

“Did you see those little flower stands on the corner?”

“Yeah,” you nod, an eager yet wistful look crossing your lovely features, “the bouquets are so pretty! It’s because Valentine’s Day is around the corner.” And there it was- you had taken the bait exactly. “If only…”

The way your chin fell onto your hand, the little drift of your eyes. Dreamy, all of it. It was enough to make Jeonghan want to spoil you. “You don’t think anyone will get you some?”

Your eyes widen a bit; you take a sip of your drink and shake your head. “No, who on earth would? Unless I had a secret admirer,” you joked, voice truly and genuinely incredulous.

That was all Jeonghan felt too, complete shock at your lack of awareness of what a gem you were. Well, that and the soaring rise of satisfaction knowing how surprised you were going to be on the fourteenth.

Joshua

Joshua embodied the old “slow to anger” verse for sure. It took a lot to build resentment in him and he truly saw the best in others whenever he could. So the fact that this guy was bugging him? Had to be his problem. I mean, you met in dance class, of course he’d be dancing with you across the practice room floor, but why’d it seem like showing off when-

“Jealous?” Suddenly Jeonghan had appeared at his side, catlike smile upon his face.

Heat crept to Joshua’s face at the single word, furrowing his brows even as his eyes widened. That was all his vocal unit-mate needed, it seemed.

“I knew it. You like her, don’t you? That’s the only reason you’d care if they were dancing, after all we showed them the moves we were working on.”

“I just-” He sighed, unable to defend himself with lies any longer. “Yeah. I guess I just wish that could be me waltzing with her like that.”

“It can be! Watch!” Jeonghan held up a hand. “(y/n), can Joshua try? He’ll be a natural!”

“Of course!” You lit up. Waving away your dance partner, you stepped up to Joshua. “I can see you being a good waltzer, Mr. Gentleman.”

Rolling his eyes at Jeonghan’s smug look, Joshua nervously, gently, gripped your waist, ready to give you the waltz of your life and dip you like your best friend almost did.

Jun

He was always teasing you and nudging you, but it was ok, right? He drove you around and bought you food sometimes, too, but that was alright… wasn’t it?

It was natural to want to do those things with you, too, as long as he didn’t let any animosity toward the other guy build up. At least that’s what Jun told himself. Some of the members were whispering suspicions about you just not going official yet, and that was like an arrow straight through his heart. Ever since the day you two had gone to that cat café, after all, his heart had been for you and you alone.

You were laughing really hard at something he said. Something about raisins that surely needed context. Part of him wanted to scoot in closer. Another part wanted to just leave and move on to another conversation. He settled for quiet, just watching for a bit. Your eyes darted his way and he smiled. You smiled back. You brought up something funny he'd done, asked if he would recreate it for everyone. For you, he would.

The way you laughed was worth it. Lighting up your eyes reminded Jun what was really important- protecting your precious soul. Your friend laughed, too, played off the joke perfectly. He was a nice guy, he really was. Jun still couldn't help feeling intimidated, though, when he went up to get another drink and your best friend immediately followed. Trying to play it cool, he turned his head, gave your buddy a smile.

"Hi. Do you need something? I can get you a drink, or- or-"

"She'd kill me if she knew I was doing this," he blurted out, eyes staring right into Jun's eyes, "but she likes you, man. I wouldn't normally say anything, but... I don't know, I can just see it with you two. I just don't want her to get hurt, so..."

"I don't either." Jun's eyes widened at the revelation, corners of his mouth threatening to tug upward. "I just want to make her as happy as she makes me."

"Believe me, if all her rants are any indication, you do," your best friend teased Jun, elbowing him.

Hoshi

The moment he heard that you, the object of his feelings, had a guy best friend, it set off an insatiable curiosity. Soonyoung had to meet this guy and meet this guy fast. Because if this guy was your bestie, he probably wasn't your type, right? So if he was anything like Soonyoung himself, ouch. Not that it sounded like the guy was a choreographer or anywhere near the tiger aficionado he was. But just as important: did he treat you right? It sounded like he did. Did he set the bar really high? Model how a real man should act or would Soonyoung have to sweep in and take over for the bas-

"I know this is a little silly of a way to spend your day off, so I really appreciate you joining us, Soonyoung. Sorry we're late!"

Your words interrupted his reverie, cutting the blur of his vision back to dial in on your wonderful smile again. In your hand was the box of lego he'd agreed to build with you and the guy he'd been curious about for so long, someone who was really into building sets, apparently. Soonyoung could dig it. A rare respite from the usual chaos he lived in.

"Don't worry," he comforts you, throwing a hopefully-subtle glance your bestie's way. Well, he certainly didn't look like Soonyoung. Whew. "This is a great way to force me to relax. I'm all yours!"

Of course, being a tiny bit more flirty around the best friend may also draw a distinction...better venture putting an arm around you when you sit down just in case...

"Next time I come to Seoul, I'm hoping my girlfriend can make it, too," you best friend suddenly comments as he splits the baggie labeled with a 1 open, "she just had to be in LA this week. We could..." He pauses, glances between you and Soonyoung with a sly smile. "...maybe do a double date or something?"

Oh, he could just kiss this guy! No, wait, you! Soonyoung feels himself flush and grin widely before he can help it, trying to calm his expression as he glances your way. Can you feel his heartbeat against your side?

Your eyelashes flutter. So cute. "I-I'm game if you are," you tell him shyly.

"I am. I so am."

Wonwoo

"Well, if it isn't Jeon 'Nerves of Steel' Wonwoo."

"Are you insecure or something?" The bespectacled rapper shoots back, sparing Chan a passing glance.

"No, I'm sane! If I liked someone whose best friend was all over her like that, I’d hardly be carrying on like normal.”

“All over her? They’re just walking up arm in arm! We don’t even know the guy yet,” Wonwoo reminds him. After all, this is the first time they’ll be meeting the bestie they’d heard so much about, so it is still unfair to judge him. Even if Wonwoo does wonder what it would feel like to get to walk with you that way…

“Hi guys! We’re here!”

You exclaim the greeting and your best friend grabs your hand, hoisting them up like you’ve just won the Olympics. The others swarm you right away, members you’re also close with and a few of the elders vibe-checking your friend. By the time Wonwoo approaches, Chan following quickly behind him with a skeptical arch of his brow, Seungcheol is already talking to him about music.

“Of course I’ve heard your songs! (y/n)’s car alone would teach me a lot, but I’m a fan anyway! It must be so amazing, all the different people you guys get to work with and other idols you get to meet! Who’s the nicest?”

He does seem really nice. Chan can keep his immaturity to himself, Wonwoo thinks. Who cares if the guy is- still holding your hand? Ok, a bit suspicious, but he had to swallow that, remembering your happiness was the most important thing and smiling for you.

“Oh my gosh! Wooyoung from Ateez? Good to know, he’s pretty much my ideal type!” Your best friend jokes to Seungkwan, who’s quickly hijacked the conversation about other idols. “Isn’t that right, (y/n)?”

“Save it for your poster,” you joke back before turning toward Chan and Wonwoo with a teasing grin, “I keep telling him his next boyfriend should be a lookalike- whoever finds him wins!”

Ok, now Wonwoo is smiling for both of you.

Woozi

Oh, man, if Seungcheol found out, he was dead meat. At least that was Jihoon’s guess. His fellow leader could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and the protective streak Jihoon admired would surely apply to his best female friend. The very same woman he had fallen for.

You were bright, cheery in a way that energized him instead of exhausting him. Just the type he'd always dreamed of. The day you left one of your silly little figurines in his studio "just to keep him company" was the day he knew he'd fallen hard. Seungcheol always beamed at you with pride, and Jihoon could see why. But did your friend see you as his?

“Here, listen to this!” Seungcheol was in the studio, your figurine and Jihoon both watching as he gently dropped a pair of headphones onto you.

Your eyelids fluttered closed; contentment spread across your face, bringing warmth to Jihoon’s heart as he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Gently you nodded to the rhythm, smile growing as your head bobbed. It was like Seungcheol was gloating, torturing him-

“What do you think?” Hands on either side of your head, your friend freed you from the headphones’ grip and peered into your eyes with a smile Jihoon tried desperately to read. Maybe that was the problem: he was trying both too hard and not hard enough.

“I love it!” You burst out, glancing between the men on either side of you from your chair. “Did you write this, or-”

“No,” he shook his head, “Jihoon did. Sounds like someone beautiful must have inspired him, huh?”

Seungcheol’s head turned as he said those last words, nodded almost imperceptibly. Oh. It was that demo. Was he- Was he giving his blessing? Jihoon felt red blooming beneath his cheeks, barely resisted the urge to frown and wave a hand and turn back around from your gaze. Well, the nod- and Seungcheol’s look of amused surprise- would have to do. Jihoon didn’t feel like having a conversation with him about it, but maybe he’d have one with you soon…

You seemed positively giddy to introduce Seokmin and your best friend, probably because he was like the next best thing. Not that that was the role he wanted. It wasn’t besting the poor…well, bestie, it was simply that you were so cute and he just wanted to hold you and sway you back and forth and kiss your cheeks and…

Seokmin really liked you. The fact that you had a guy best friend, though? Easily meant you just clicked with dudes, had a different approach to dating. It wasn’t something he tried to bring up too much. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

Bliss that couldn’t last forever, though, as you dragged your friend forward and Seokmin got ready to study every interaction you had with him. After all, if you acted the exact same way toward that guy it would be obvious. Crushing, pun intended, but obvious.

The guy playfully rolled his eyes as you yanked him over- not by the hand, though, by the sleeve. Interesting. Introductions went smoothly.

“So, how long have you two known each other again?” Seokmin asked.

“Funny, I was just about to ask the same thing to you!” Your best friend replied with a smile.

Was that a challenge? A threat? Was this a how-well-we-know-(y/n)-off?

Apparently not, for all the guy did was nod and say “Ok, cool!” before you guys all headed into the arcade.

Soon you three were having a shoot-off at the basketball game, and when you took second place, you high-fived both of them. Equal treatment? But earlier you had put your hand on his shoulder, oh and you said he looked cute when you guys were messing with the game props and-

“Hey, Seokmin?” Your friend had gone to the restroom, leaving just the two of you pulling aside from the hoops.

“Yeah?”

“I hope this isn’t a weird time to do this, but, well, I wanted there to be a third person in case things got awkward,” you paused for three, four of his rampant heartbeats, “I just wanted to tell you that I like you.”

His jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Why would I lie about something like that?”

“I dunno, I guess I was just worried you saw me the same as your friend there,” he shrugged.

“Please,” you waved your hand, “love that guy, but he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.”

Seokmin grinned. “And I do?”

“Says the guy who always pulls me away from the road and gave me his scarf the other night!”

“Oh,” Seokmin mused, “I forgot about that. But you know what? Keep it.” And with that, he scooped you into a the warmest hug of your life, all the lights and chatter of the arcade fading out beneath the sensation.

Mingyu

Mungyu was head over frickin heels for you. You, the way you smiled, how hard you laughed at his roast battle with Soonyoung (he won), the cute little way you wrung your hands when you were nervous. He couldn’t help but feel jealous of your male best friend, though- that man must have known your lovely brain even more intimately, known every secret to winning your heart. Maybe he already was winning it, the way you always sat by him and dragged him along on your wonderfully silly antics. The most conflicting part? Your best friend was one of his bandmates.

He’d only met you because you moved near Seventeen’s dorms and Seokmin started bringing you around. It shouldn’t have mattered, but the way you laughed together had his chest tightening, wondering why that couldn’t be him. But would saying something upset Seokmin, cause a rift between the two men? That was the last thing Mingyu wanted. If only his heart would dull its ache, quit beating a mile a minute the moment you fell into his sights.

Something snapped in him one day, though, when you fated three made a convenience store run. You were in a particularly good mood, excitedly grabbing your best friend’s hand and swinging your joined appendages back and forth. All Mingyu wanted was closure, and he was going to get it once and for all.

“So, do you two like each other?” The moment Seokmin rounded the corner to find his favorite snacks, the words burst from the tall rapper’s lips. Mingyu’s composure threatened to falter in the seconds before you answered, ticks that felt like minutes.

You giggled, but the sound wasn’t sheepish, in fact it was…incredulous? Not to mention extremely adorable the way you lit up with mirth. “No way! Seokmin is like a brother to me. In fact, the only reason he started bringing me around Seventeen was thinking he was going to set me up with one of you,” you replied.

“Really?” Mingyu can’t hide his gape at that. “Which one?”

At that, you giggle again. “I don’t think it mattered, really! I think he just wants to make a real sister-in-law out of me. I’d probably have my pick,” you rolled your eyes teasingly.

But then your gaze fell from his almost shyly. And there between aisles of foil snack packages, beneath fluorescent bar lights, came a glittering vision of hope. As if all of Mingyu’s dreams were going to come true.

“Well, if you’re taking applications, sign me up,” he tells you, leaning against a cookie display.

His arm slipped and he almost fell, but you said yes, so nothing was going to wipe the grin off of his face as he took your hand, insisted on carrying your bag on the way back to the dorms.

Seokmin just swung his head back and forth between you two. “What happened while I was gone?”

The8

“You’re not jealous?”

“Why should I be?”

Frankly, it blew some of the other more possessive-leaning Seventeen members’ minds how little it bothered Minghao. You, the girl he claimed to have feelings for, to feel differently toward than anyone else he'd ever met.

"Because that guy is sitting awfully close to her!" Mingyu shot back. "You're not upset? At least feeling like you have competition?"

"A person isn't a prize. It's her choice on who to be with, not mine, and besides, they're best friends. I'm not exactly wishing to be in his place, no," Minghao responds, ending his statement with a smirk.

Mingyu shakes his head at first before breaking into an amused smile and laugh. "All right, you got me there."

Before much else could be said, Minghao heard his name, grinned as he turned around and saw you waving him over. "Come play our silly little game with us!"

"Ok," he chuckled, sending one last smile to Mingyu, who mouthed an overly encouraging 'go get 'em, tiger' that had his nose wrinkling.

In all honesty, it made him happy to be included in moments like that one, old nostalgic games with your best friend. Like him back or not, there was a beauty in seeing Minghao as an important enough part of your life and he wouldn't waste that. As a matter of fact, it only encouraged him to get closer to you and your friends and welcome you more into his life, too.

“After this, you get to pick the next game, ok?”

Minghao just smiled. “Of course. I can teach you mine and my mom’s old favorite.”

Seungkwan

“Oh, remember at your brother’s birthday party when your mom had the limbo contest?”

“Yes, he just bent his legs so weird!”

You and one of your closest friends are sitting reminiscing on all the things you’d done together. The two of you have, for lack of a better term, history, and maybe that’s something that will never get built up the same with-

“Seungkwan?”

Turning his head, Seungkwan responds to his leader’s call with a faint hum, seeing Seungcheol nod toward an empty bedroom and following him in. As soon as he steps through the threshold, he sees the way his elder has his arms crossed and his downturned eyebrows raise.

“Wanna talk about what’s going on out there? And before you ask, yes, I can tell something’s off. It’s (y/n) and her friend, huh?”

Curse his expressiveness. Sometimes Seungkwan feels like he can never keep a secret. Everything is betrayed by his face or the way he acts, but nothing in the world can suppress reflex, pure emotion. At least not all the time.

He sighs. “Yes. I just… I just can’t help feeling like I’ve lost. He knows her like the back of his hand, they have all these memories together… maybe I should just give up.”

“Just because they’ve known each other for longer doesn’t mean anything,” Seungcheol comforts him, stepping forward to rest a firm hand on his shoulder, “in fact, maybe that’s a good sign. If they’ve been friends for years and he’s never made a move, why would he now?”

Seungkwan’s shoulders rise and fall beneath his leader’s warm grip. “Maybe. I guess… I mean, I just worry because she’s spending all that time with him and what am I if not-”

“Seungkwan!”

Your voice cuts into the dark, curling clouds of his reverie, fading around the corner as he stiffens and Seungcheol drops his hand again. Shuffling carefully forward, he tentatively leaves the room to find you standing before him, a smile rising gently to your lips.

“There you are,” you breathe, stepping closer, “I was worried when I saw you leave suddenly. Are you alright?”

His heart flips. He nods. “Yeah, Seungcheol just had a question for me. I’m heading back out, in fact,” he adds, shooting Seventeen’s leader a brief look and receiving a nod in response.

“Good. It’s not the same without you,” you tell him, and this smile elicits more than a flip- this time his heart practically explodes.

“Really?” He asks before he can stop himself.

“Really,” you confirm, heading back out into the room. Luckily you don’t seem to notice the very smug, triumphant glance he shoots your best friend’s way.

Vernon

Vernon isn’t the jealous type. Possessiveness is unnecessary stress, and he feels like if two people truly connect there’s no need.

The problem is he isn’t sure how well you two have connected. Sure you’re friends and sure you guys have hung out, but there’s another guy you’re with all the time- boyfriend? Hard to tell. If so, not officially, not in words. He’s your best friend, your ride or die, so to speak, and Vernon isn’t going to do anything to get in the way of that. Having twelve ride or dies himself, that would be hypocrisy in the highest.

Yet the way his brow furrows seeing you with him, the unpleasant jolt of his heart when you bring up yet another joke just the two of you share, has him wondering if his interest is feckless. It’s not anger, for he had no claim to you, but a strong desire for closure, just one final word to release him from the surreptitious glances at your beauty or jokes made just for you. The thoughts of what sort of stuff you would do as a couple- were you the matching tattoos or matching pajamas type? DIY dates or something bougier? Probably more DIY, you were so down to earth, but Vernon would spoil you if you let him…

“Oh, come off it, bro,” you waved your best friend’s hand off your shoulder, wrinkling your nose at the embarrassing childhood anecdote, “I haven’t done that since I was a kid and you never saw me, my mom just told you the story!”

Bro? Bro! One choice word had Vernon’s ears perking up. He’d never caught you going full bro with your bestie before. Did he have a shot? Involuntarily his heartbeat picked up.

“And I’ll never let you forget it,” your best friend gave you a smug look, crossing his arms.

Your eyes met Vernon’s in a flustered glance. As cute as you looked embarrassed, he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Instead he offered a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, I didn’t really catch it.”

Sighing in relief, you shook your head at your friend before looking once more at Vernon. “You’re so lucky you just have a sister, otherwise this is what you have to deal with.”

Vernon laughed at that, a sound that even surprised him, but such a giddy rush had struck his heart with the hope that came from your revelation. If your best friend was a brother in your eyes, could someone else hold your heart?

Dino

Lee Chan was, in a word, not having it.

You were it for him, a girl like he'd never met before, and it had become his newest mission in life to show you how amazing you were. Compliments, small gifts, being there for help or comfort whenever you needed it, all were fair game for the youngest member of Seventeen.

So why were you suddenly dragging this other guy around everywhere?

Chan's heart felt like it was in a vice when you made all the posts taking him to an amusement park, to Baskin Robbins, the park, all the cute places he would have given anything to go one-on-one with you to.

"Trust me, I think you should let this go," Minghao told him at practice one day, "look at his arm around her, nice but so stiff. There's no way the two of them are anything but friends."

Valid point, but who else would take up such major real estate of your time so quickly? Go from zero to sixty hanging out unless you were his girlfriend? Either way Chan wasn't going down without a fight.

The next time he saw you, the metaphorical gloves were off. And by that, Chan fully intended to march right up to you, thundering of his heart be darned, and have his choice words. Well, choice question, really.

"Why are you doing all those things with him and not me?" It wasn't entirely a complaint, not entirely a command or entreaty either. It was everything Chan felt when he looked at you and lit up, then saw someone else basking in that light.

Your brows furrowed at his words, every twitch of your muscle one of true confusion, before you spoke. "Who, my cousin? He's only in Seoul for a few more weeks, so we've been cramming it all in. Do you really want to do all that with me too?"

Cousin! Internally Chan was breaking out into a one-man dance routine. Externally? He had to keep it a bit cooler.

"With you and no one else," he confirmed with a smile, leaning back against the wall with a look of smug satisfaction, even if it did mean Minghao was right.

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maarrgarr · 9 months

Note

Unknown heir part 16?? 🥹🥹🥹

The Unknown Heir.

masterlist of the Unknown Heir.

Gojo Satoru x fem! reader.

Synopsis: The reader returns after being gone for two years and leaving her boyfriend, Satoru, without giving him a reason. But now she doesn't come back alone.

Warning: English is not my first language, possible grammatical and spelling mistakes, some plot changes.

Shoko noticed how thoughtful you had been about what she had told you, so she decided to change the subject. Her gaze went to Ryusei who was now lying on the grass looking at the sky as if it were the most interesting thing. "It's going to be Ryu's birthday soon, isn't it?" she asked you taking you out of your ovens.

You couldn't believe that you had forgotten that it would be your son's birthday soon. With so much that had happened, you had completely forgotten that Ryusei would soon be three years old. If it were up to you, your son would stay two years old forever.

Soon Ryu's cursed energy would manifest and therefore he could begin to see it, and that meant he could see the curses. Also at the age of 4 to 6 years his technique hereditary would begin to manifest. And you knew that the only one who could teach Ryu about that was his own father.

"Are you going to do some celebration?" Shoko asked, "I would. Ryu loves his birthday, so he's sure to ask me to throw him a party", you answered her. "We could arrange a small gathering in one of the halls, surely Yaga won't mind." You nodded in agreement, it seemed like a good idea.

To your bad luck, Ryusei had heard you mention his name and birthday, in the same sentence. He quickly stopped playing with the ball and walked over to the two of you. "My birthday is coming up, isn't it mom?" His sky-blue eyes almost shone as they looked at you and you felt your heart melt before your son. "Yes, my love, have you thought about what you want as a gift?". He seemed to analyze what he wanted as a gift, until an idea crossed his mind. His eyes widened and he smiled at you. "Yes, I know what I want!" he answered you and you smiled at him, "Yes? and what is it?".

"I want my dad to come to my birthday!".

His answer left you cold.

You always thought of the day when you would have to tell Satoru the truth. But you never thought about the day Ryusei would ask you to meet his father. Perhaps, subconsciously, you had always tried to fill that space that a father actually fills, so that Ryu would never ask you about him, so that Ryu would never feel that lack. But apparently you had failed in that.

"Don't you want something else, Ryu? a toy car or a new teddy" Shoko tried to get the boy to change what he wanted as a gift, but Ryusei was the son of Gojo Satoru, if he wanted something he wouldn't stop until he got it, and you knew it. "No! I want my dad" he answered sure and without indications that he is going to change his gift.

You felt that Ieiri nudged you to get you to react. You knelt down at your son's height and stroked his hair, "Ryu, love, listen to me. I can give you anything you want but that's not". His brows furrowed and his lips soon pouted. "Why not?" He asked you and you didn't know what to answer.

Why couldn't you give him what he wanted? He was a child asking to meet his father and he had every right to do so. Why didn't you tell Satoru the truth? he was a man who had every right to know he was a father. Were you afraid that your little son would suffer rejection? No. Deep down you knew that Satoru, even with all his flaws, was incapable of rejecting his son. And less than less, he was incapable of rejecting a son who was the fruit of the love that existed between you.

Perhaps it was the fear that Satoru will hate you more than he already did? Well, that wasn't so scary. There was no way Gojo would hate you more than he already did.

So? Why don't you just put an end to all this?

What were you so afraid of?

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tallteenturtle · 24 days

Text

Nancy Drew: Curse of Blackmoor Manor

I fell down a bit of a heraldry rabbit hole recently and decided to spend several hours compiling info about the Penvellyn family off the wiki and then used online heraldry resources to analyze their individual coat of arms. Did the game devs intend the shields to be interpreted this way? Probably not. But if I dont over-analyze 20 year old childrens computer games what else am I going to do with my life??

Here are all the people whose portraits hang in the great hall along with info we learn about them from Jane (and occasionally Nigel), their coat of arms, and my amateur interpretation of the symbolism.

Randulf ( - 1401)

“Randulf the Red, so named for his bright red hair, was considered a hero at the Battle of Poitiers. For his heroism, King Edward III awarded him with the lands in the region called "Penvellyn". That's how we got our name.”

Randulf's coat of arms says "IN HOC SIGNO" which translates to "in this sign (you will conquer)"

Comet; unknown in heraldry but refers to the family treasure

Red; Military might, warrior.

(putting the rest under the cut to save you much scrolling)

Odo (1354 – 1404)

“Yeah, he isn't very exciting, really. Liked farming and cows. His son Milo is much more interesting.”

“Those Manuscripts are very old and brittle. They date back to the 14th century. Odo Penvellyn collected most of them. His father Randulf and son Milo were rather more interested in military victories than in book collecting.”

Odo's coat of arms says "PROSPERITAS" which translates to "success".

Milo (1376 – 1423)

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Deer/hart; One who will not fight unless provoked, peace and harmony

“Milo inherited not only his grandfather's red hair but his military prowess. Milo was instrumental in the Siege of Caen and was awarded even more lands by Henry V.”

Milo's coat of arms says "VICTUM INVIDEO SILENTE" which translates to "the conquered shall envy the dead".

Hugo (1401 – 1466)

Comet; unknown in heraldry

Red; Military might, warrior

Teardrop; “One who has endured torrents”

“Um, he had a lot of kids, and his dates were 1401 to 1466.”

Hugo's coat of arms says "CITO FIT QUOD DEI VOLUNT" which translates to "what the gods want happens soon".

Albert (1427 – 1508)

Bee; Industrious, diligent

Acorn; Antiquity, strength

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

“He was very mysterious and the people of Blackmoor were afraid of him because he knew all these scientific things. No one knows much about him, though.”

Albert's coat of arms says "TIMENDI CAUSA EST NESCIRE" which translates to "ignorance is the cause of fear".

Edmund (1447 – 1499)

Book (open); Manifestation, knowledge

Blue; Truth, loyalty

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

“He was into cows. He did a lot of breeding of cows and sheep and got some kind of award from the King.”

Edmund's coat of arms says "UT SEMENTUM FECERIS ITA METES" which translates to "As you sow, so shall you reap".

Charles (1478 – 1553)

Hawk (Falcon): One who does not rest until objective achieved, purpose, goal-oriented

Red; Military might, warrior

Blue; Truth, loyalty

"Ooh, ooh - Charles was a very famous judge and wrote very important books on law. But his boy, Garrett, drowned when he was really young.”

Charles's coat of arms says "MINIMA MAXIMA SUNT" which translates to "The smallest things are the most important".

Thomas (1526 – 1584)

Rainbow; Good times after bad

Moon; Serene power over the mundane

Sun; Creativity and enlightenment

Blue; Truth, loyalty

“He was Charles's grandson and wrote a lot of poetry. He also had 3 wives: Catherine, Anne, and Mary. But not like at the same time. They died and he just remarried.”

Thomas's coat of arms says "AGE PRO VIRIBUS" which translates to "in all that you do, do your best".

James (1560 – 1650)

Eagle (2 heads); Joining 2 strong forces

Purple; Nobility and justice

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

T is presumably for Thomas, no heraldic meaning

“He never married but one day, when he was very old, a baby was found on the doorstep to the manor. He took her in and raised her as his own. That was Elinor.”

James's coat of arms says "ARS LONGA" which translates to "art lives long" (from the phrase, ars longa vita brevis - art is long, life is short).

Elinor (1626 – 1650)

Maltese cross; Blessings, protection

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

Purple; Nobility and justice

“Just that she was burned as a witch but it wasn't true and her father, James, died when he saw her die and then the family fled to France. I don't want to talk about this.”

Elinor's coat of arms says "AUDACES FORTUNA IUVAT" which translates to "fortune favors the bold".

Corbin (1670 – 1741)

Lion rampant; Courage, integrity, strength

Red; Military might, warrior

Purple; Nobility and justice

“Uh…I dunno. He doesn't have a coat of arms in the Great Hall because he didn't live here; wasn't even a British subject. That's all I know.”

Corbin's coat of arms says "NUNQUAM DEDISCEO" which translates to "never forget".

This shield is notably absent from the great hall, and also is the only one to feature decoration on the outside of the shield.

Sun; Fountain of life, intelligence, innovation, creativity, enlightenment

Wheat; Faithful

Vines/Ivy; Strong and lasting friendship, academia

Philippe (1689 – 1777)

“He made a fortune in the New World and bought back most of the lands that were confiscated by Cromwell.”

Philippe's coat of arms says "NOVUS MUNDUS" which translates to "a new world".

Penelope (1714 – 1783)

Fleur de Lis; Symbol of France

Purple; Nobility and justice

Blue; Truth, loyalty

“I don't know very much about her, except that she was very loved by practically everyone in England, and there were a million poems written about her.”

“Those are mainly Penelope Penvellyn's collections of French novels. She was a patron to a raft of artists, and her salon was quite popular. She was quite the libertine, even kept her maiden name after her marriage.”

Penelope's coat of arms says "PULCHRITUDO IN OMNIA" which translates to "there is beauty in all things".

Martha (1739 – 1791)

Pegasus; Poetic genius and inspiration

Fleur de lis; Symbol of France

Lion rampant; Courage and integrity

Wheel; fortune, cycle of life

Purple; Nobility and justice

Red; Military might, warrior

“She was completely daft - she'd wear really bizarre outfits and she was one of the first women to ride on a steam train.” (This is particularly impressive as the steam train did not exist until 10 years after her death. Oops!)

Martha's coat of arms says "SINE SCIENTIA ARS NIHIL EST" which translates to "without understanding, art is nothing".

Brigitte (1759 – 1833)

Unicorn; Extreme courage, virtue, strength.

Teardrop symbolism; “One who has endured torrents” gold means generosity or elevation of the mind.

The gear and atom are not traditional heraldic symbols but can represent progress and science.

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

Purple; Nobility and justice

“She never married and was bonkers for astronomy; she adopted her sister's son, Richard, who later got killed at Waterloo."

Brigitte's coat of arms says "LUDI SINE GAUDIO LUDI NON SUNT" which translates to "sport without fun is not sport."

"Brigitte with her eyes so bright, looks toward heaven at midnight on the longest night of year, that's the one she holds most dear. 'Starry friends,' she's often heard to say, 'how I wish that I could make you stay.' She knows though they can't remain, time will bring them 'round again."

Only shield to have white decorations on the colored background

Star; Divine quality from above

Dove; Loving constancy and peace

Compass; Direction

Purple; Nobility and justice

Richard (1787 – 1815)

“He died in Waterloo fighting against Napoleon.”

Richard's coat of arms says "SI SIC OMNES" which translates to "if only this could last forever".

Edward (1809 – 1904)

Banner down center shield (the Pale); Military or defensive strength

Star; Divine quality from above. The specific star (nautical star) is not traditional heraldry but symbolizes finding way home.

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Purple; Nobility and justice

“He was a big explorer and went all over the world. He wasn't very close with his son, who was also an explorer. They'd only see each other by chance in weird remote places like Samarkand or Walla Walla.”

Edward's coat of arms says "BIS VIVAT QUI BON VIVAT" which translates to "Whoever lives well lives twice".

Knight (especially on horseback); The soul guiding the body; man’s journey through life

Lightning Bolt: Swiftness and power; spiritual enlightenment.

Unicorn; Extreme courage, virtue, strength.

I dont know what the warrior with the spear and sword means

Scepter; Emblem of Justice

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

William (1833 – 1901)

“He was an explorer, just like his father. He was kind of a whiner, so I heard.”

William's coat of arms says "DIES PERDIDI" which translates to "another day wasted".

John (1873 – 1954)

Bend Sinister (the band across the shield); Sometimes used to indicate illegitimacy. If that is the meaning here that would be very interesting and explain why he wasnt close with his father

Red; Military might, warrior

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

“He was this huge naturalist and did a lot of exploration in the Amazon. I think there's a plant named after him. Or maybe a monkey; I forget.”

John's coat of arms says "PER AURES AD ANIMUM" which translates to "through the ears to the spirit".

Malachi (1894 – 1972)

Parrot and mouth not traditional symbols but probably represent interest in wildlife and linguistics.

Green; Hope, joy, loyalty

Blue; Truth, loyalty

“He was a doctor of medicine and did a lot of research on icky skin diseases.”

Malachi's coat of arms says "NUMEN LUMEN" which translates to "divine light is my guide".

Alan (1923 – 1993)

Sun; Fountain of life, intelligence, innovation, creativity, enlightenment

Purple; Nobility and justice

“He was my grandfather but I didn't know him because he died when I was little. I guess he was nice.”

Alan's coat of arms says "PURGAMENTUM EXIT" which translates to "garbage out" (referencing part of a programmers' saying "garbage in, garbage out").

Serpent; Wisdom

Red; Military might, warrior

#nancy drew #curse of blackmoor manor #nancy drew: curse of blackmoor manor #nancy drew PC games #her interactive #Penvellyn family #heraldry #fandom deep dive #nancy drew games #her interactive games #this is very niche content and i will not apologize #blackmoor manor spoilers

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