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#we talked for a long time everything was good and lighthearted and then he makes a 'joke'
hazyhae · 5 months
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strawberry cough | njm
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strangers to fwb to lovers w/ plug!jaemin ft. bestie shotaro
summary: when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that and maybe even more.
pt. 2 here
wc: 9.1k 18+ mdni
cw: weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, protected/unprotected penetrative sex, oral, 69, shotgunning, soft dom!jaemin, some angst & misunderstandings, jealous reader and jaemin, comforting from jaemin, jaemin calls reader baby & angel, gn!afab!reader, he has a pull out couch, strawberry cough is an actual weed strain i recommend it :)
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shotaro calls your name, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“his name is jaemin and we have the same supplier, I’ll even ask him to give you a discount!”
your best friend was moving to another town across the country for work and you can’t help but tear up at the thought of being so far from the sweet boy. you met back in your teens and had been glued at the hip since.
somewhere over the course of your friendship, shotaro started to dabble in weed, teaching you almost everything you know about the substance and eventually becoming your plug and smoking buddy. with shotaro gone, it might be difficult finding someone who not only you can trust but also knows your weed needs like the back of their hand.
you blink at the new name, trying to remember what he was talking about, and recall something along the lines of finding you a new plug.
“i’d definitely recommend him, i’d say he’s second best to me in town, and i can trust him around you,” shotaro jokes with you, keeping it lighthearted.
you know behind the joking, your friend is doing his best to look out for you despite going through a stressful time himself. you don’t want to make this move any harder for him than it already is, so you agree with a smile.
“i’ll give him a chance, just give me his number and we’ll go from there.”
he meets your smile with his own.
“trust me, he’ll take good care of you.”
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a couple of weeks after shotaro’s move, you decide its finally time to text your potential new plug. after finding his contact buried in your messages, you text jaemin, setting up a meeting time to pick up some goods, planning on buying an eighth and some gummies.
surprisingly, he asks if you want to check out his strains when you get there, wanting you to actually see all he has to offer before buying.
his customer service impresses you, realizing that you just assumed he would be as casual as shotaro and any other plug you’ve gone to. most of the time they would just ask you what you want, give you your order, and you’d be on your way. seeing the whole collection would definitely be good if you plan to go to him long-term.
while you’re a little hesitant at the thought of entering his apartment, you feel better given how shotaro talked your ear off on how good jaemin was, both as a friend and fellow plug.
a 20-minute walk from your place leads you to the address he sent, and you triple-check your phone to make sure you’re at the right apartment. when you finally ring the doorbell, you hear some rushed footsteps and the door opens to a sight you were not expecting.
your eyes move up to see a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders, and one of the prettiest smiles you’ve ever seen.
“hi, you’re __? taro’s friend, right?”
you nod, exchanging introductions, and he gives you a tight handshake, not breaking eye contact.
“come on in! i’ve laid out everything so you can pick what you want. let me know if you have any questions.” he flashes another smile, and you can’t help but smile back at his welcoming attitude. besides shotaro, other plugs you have gone to never exchanged more than a few words with you, but they also didn’t have a smile like jaemin’s. actually, no one you’ve ever met had a smile like that.
you take a look around his apartment, noting how well kept it was, with minimal but tasteful decor. you were already a little nervous, but staring at the back of the attractive man leading you to his kitchen in his perfect apartment has your heart speeding up.
he shows you his collection, which you note to be on the same level as shotaro’s. you remember how your stash of your favorite strain ran out the week before, and knowing they have the same supplier, you look around his extensive collection for a familiar logo.
“do you have anymore strawberry cough? that’s my go-to.”
his expression falters slightly, but he recovers quickly and answers your question.
“i’m out of stock right now, but if you come back next week i should definitely have it in.”
nodding in understanding, you pick up a small pack of orange gummies, deciding on taking a break from smoking until your next visit. he packs up your gummies and leads you back to the entrance of his apartment, but when you reach into your bag to pull out your wallet he stops you.
“it’s on the house.” he insists, flashing you another one of his dazzling smiles. his smile makes it almost too hard to argue.
“oh no, i can’t do that to you,” you respond and resume your task of grabbing your wallet. you stop at the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder.
“let’s just say it’s a first time customer deal, okay?” his strong gaze stills you.
“it’s not every day I get a customer as cute as you,” he says with a grin and a look in his eyes you can’t quite figure out. it does a good job of shutting you up, and you feel your face heat up. the place where his hand meets your shoulder feels like it’s burning.
you don’t know how to respond and he chuckles at your flustered expression. he places the gummies in your hands, and opens the door for you.
“make sure you come back next week, i’ll be waiting for your text!” you nod and quietly respond with your thanks and goodbye as you walk out into the hallway. he waits until you’re at the elevator, waving to you as the elevator doors close.
immediately you’re clutching your burning face in your hands, and his words replay in your head until you go to sleep that night.
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while the interaction with your new plug lingers in your mind for a while, you are quick to try and dismiss jaemin’s flirting as his way of charming customers and nothing more. shotaro did say he would ask him to give you a discount, so maybe it’s safe to assume that freebie was a favor for your mutual friend.
the next week, you’re surprised to see a text from jaemin letting you know that your favorite was in stock. you had debated in your mind on when to text him, but it’s a pleasant surprise that he texted you first. you agree to come after work, and your second visit to him is not as nerve-wracking as the first, though his closing remarks from the first visit still ring in your brain.
you wave those thoughts off again as he meets you at the door.
“hello my strawberry cough lover!” he greets you happily.
lover. you freeze at the word. you pause for a few seconds, jaemin confused at your lack of response when you realize he’s referring to your love for the product. you totally missed that. he was not calling you his lover.
“hi jaemin,” you sheepishly reply, internally scolding yourself for those thoughts.
you expect him to collect your payment, give you your bag, and send you on your way. but something you’ve begun to learn in the short time you’ve known him is that he is always full of surprises.
he invites you in and you see your order sitting on his kitchen table. your eyebrow raises when he pulls out another bag of what you recognize as strawberry cough from the label.
“do you have any plans today?” he asks.
it’s about 6pm and your only plans included smoking the goods you would be getting from jaemin, so nothing’s booked. “i’m free, what’s up?”
“it’s actually been a while since i’ve smoked or sold this strain, so i wanted to ask if you’d want to smoke with me? it’ll be on the house of course, but you totally don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable” he actually looks a little nervous asking, which you find endearing.
“sure, sounds fun,” you agree, once again taking into consideration shotaro’s ramblings about jaemin. you would never pass up the opportunity for free weed with a potential new friend. friend.
he brightens, sitting you down on his living room sofa and running to get his smoking materials together.
“pipe or joint?” he asks. you reply with the latter and he gets to rolling.
you watch as he expertly grinds and packs the green leaves into the wrapping paper, licking the edge to seal it and pinching the end shut.
you can’t deny that it’s probably one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen a man do. you’ve seen many of your friends roll before, but something about the way jaemin uses his hands (and mouth) has you almost drooling.
he offers you the first hit, and you place the joint between your lips. he lights it as you inhale slightly, keeping his hand steady to catch any ash from falling on you.
while his earlier display had your body reacting, his gentlemanly behavior hit you right in the heart. you take two hits and hand it back to him, watching him take his own.
“how did you meet shotaro?” he asks, making conversation, and you are more than happy to explain how he accidentally hit you with a basketball during your second year of high school. you feel your body start to lighten and your mind fuzz.
“he couldn’t stop apologizing, going on and on about taking me to the hospital,” you’re trying to tell him through your giggles and before you know it, full laughter leaves you at the thought of your friend.
he looks at you with dazed eyes and a dopey smile, laughing along with you, starting to recount his own memories of your shared friend.
conversation seems to just flow naturally between the two of you. with each time the joint is passed back and forth, you learn another piece of information about the man in front if you, and vice versa. it’s comfortable.
at some point, you are both pretty settled into your highs, melted into the couch watching some random movie.
you look over at jaemin, and he looks more handsome and cozy than you remember a couple hours ago. he was within arms length, and if you wanted to, you could just reach over and-
“__, are you okay?” jaemin’s call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts.
embarrassed by your staring and what just went through your head, you try to keep it as cool as possible, but you know that your thoughts are threatening to seep out.
“yeah, i’m good, just thinking of heading out soon since it’s getting pretty late,” you assure him. at this point, a few hours had passed since you arrived and it was safe to say you needed to go home and cool your head before you said or did anything you’d regret.
he nods in understanding and tells you he will be right back. you’re not too sure what he’s up to, but he comes back quickly wearing a hoodie and helps you to your feet with a gentle hand. he picks up your order from the kitchen, and walking to the front door he grabs his keys and starts to put his shoes on.
“are you heading somewhere, too?” you ask, and he looks at you blankly.
“i’m walking you home?” he states as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. you told him somewhere along the line that you lived close by, but you didn’t expect this.
“jaemin, you don’t have to, it’s only 20 minutes,” you try to assure him.
you know that it isn’t the safest to walk by yourself at this time of the night, but you don’t want to trouble him.
“i do have to, and i want to.” you know he’s really made his mind up, seeing his serious expression, so you give up any further argument at his response.
your thoughts tell you he’s just being a good friend, but your heart hopes its something more.
the two of you walk back in a comfortable silence, jaemin with your order in hand. he walks you to the front of your apartment building, handing you your bag once you arrive.
“i had a lot of fun today, hope we can do this again sometime,” he says with that same look he had when he gave you your first freebies.
“same here, i think that would be really nice,” you respond, internally celebrating that he enjoyed your time together just as much as you did.
his normal dopey grin comes back at that, and he bids you a good night, waiting until you are inside your building to start his walk home.
only when you get back to your room do you realize you forgot to pay him.
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over the next few months, you find that jaemin never lets you pay. he’s officially become your plug and smoking buddy. you never stop protesting and offering to pay, but in that time you’ve also gotten to know how stubborn he is.
“friends get free shit.” he shrugs, as if it’s just common sense.
friends. the word stings a bit. you’ve come to learn that his charms extended so far beyond what was offered to customers. so much so that you’ve come to want more than friendship.
but again, you also don’t want to ruin what you’ve got growing and make him uncomfortable. this has to be a platonic experience for him, right?
that’s what you tell yourself, keeping your hopes at bay. you don’t want to risk anything.
on a particularly stressful work day, you come to pick up your usual order when he notices something is off. he frowns seeing you so tired and noticeably upset, immediately leading you inside with his hand gently resting on your back.
“what’s wrong?” he asks feeling your forehead for any sign of a fever. you’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with him over your time together, closing your eyes at his touch.
“nothing, just a tough day at work,” you murmur, just wanting to get your order and go home to lie in bed. a harsh argument with your manager today left you feeling frustration bubbling in your throat with no way to let it out.
“i know something that might help?” he offers. he brings you straight to your usual spot on the couch, and goes to the kitchen, returning with a familiar decorated bag.
“you didn’t,” gasping as he starts to lay its contents out on the table.
the bag included your go to order from your favorite fast food place, complete with a strawberry smoothie.
“i didn’t expect that it would be a perfect day to do this, but i’m glad i did.”
your eyes start to sting.
his kindness is coming at a moment you needed it most. he’s always been kind, and that has not changed at all since the day you met him. tears start to fall.
“wait, did i mess up your order??” his eyebrows furrow and he starts to get up, scanning the food on the table.
you shake your head, grabbing his arm to pull him back into sitting.
“no, just thank you, thank you so much jaemin.” you’re trying to compose yourself, but the same warm hand you’ve come to know and love starts to rub circles into your shoulder, making you cry more.
you lean into him, letting yourself let go of your frustrations of the day. jaemin encourages you to talk, wrapping his arm completely around you and whispering sweet affirmations in response to your worries.
after what feels like forever passes by, you find yourself relaxed in his arms with his head resting on yours.
“thank you and i’m sorry jaemin, i know that was a lot,” you say as you turn your head to look at him, realizing how close the two of you were.
he leans back, still with an arm around you. “i’m gonna pretend i only heard that first part. you’re never too much and you don’t have to be sorry about letting your emotions out. not with me.”
you really don’t understand how he’s telling you exactly what you need to hear.
at this point, the feeling slowly blooming over the past few months has really has made itself clearer than ever to you.
you like him. you like him so much.
you whisper your thanks again, and he shushes you, with his eyes moving down to your lips.
“you’re welcome, now let’s smoke a little?” he asks quietly, and you nod, figuring you would appreciate the relaxation of your body and hopefully, your heart as well.
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jaemin lets you use his facewash and a towel to freshen yourself up after crying, and has a pipe freshly packed for when you come back.
after your usual passing back and forth, you’re melted into the couch watching tv yet again. jaemin has his arm wrapped around you just similar to how he did at your earlier cry session, but this time his hand is around your waist, rubbing absentmindedly.
you don’t mind at all, pressed into his side as you both watch a cute cat cartoon. you look up at him, staring at his lips as thoughts start to sprout. you’ve noticed his obsession with wearing lip balm, and it’s really paid off. they look so soft and you can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like against yours.
he doesn’t lean away this time when he notices your gaze, looking into your eyes with his own hooded ones. you don’t know if it’s the weed giving your thoughts life, but your voice is leaving you before you know it.
“can i kiss you?”
you gasp after realizing what you’ve said, moving to get up, but his arm wraps tighter around you, stopping you from separating yourself from him. staring down at you with lidded eyes, he closes the distance between the two of you.
his lips are even softer than anything you’ve imagined.
his pecks turn into full kisses, and it’s only a matter of time before things turn more heated, jaemin slipping in his tongue to meet yours. the two of you kiss for what feels like forever, getting lost in the haze.
your mouth chases his as he starts to pull back, and he smiles against your lips. he fully pulls back look at you, and leans in to pepper soft kisses on your neck.
“you are toooo cute.” he mumbles against your neck, and his warm breath gives you goosebumps.
“do you want me?” he asks, and you are speechless. you’ve been wanting him, thinking of him while sober and not so sober. you’ve dreamed about this, yet now that he’s offering himself on a silver platter all you can do is nod. he slightly tightens his hold on your waist.
“words, baby.”
your embarrassed face presses into the top of his head as he continues to lay kisses down your throat. you can only hope that this is not just a really, really good dream.
“i want you, jaemin. so bad.”
immediately you are pushed onto your back on the couch, jaemin’s lips back on yours and your hands threading through his hair.
he slots himself in between your legs, grinding into you slowly as your hips jump up to meet his. he begins to kiss a trail from your throat down to your stomach, his warm hands finding their way under your shirt and sweatpants to meet your bare hips.
“can i take these off?” he punctuates his question with a snap of your waistband.
“please,” you reply, feeling yourself begin to ache, but suddenly jaemin remembers something.
you look at him confused as he gets up, reaching around to two handles at the bottom of the couch. he pulls the handles, and you are met with a whole new couch section.
“you’re telling me it was a pull-out couch this whole time??” you complain. your nights with him were comfortable, but the extra couch space to sprawl out changes everything.
“hey, it’s usually just me on this couch and i have more than enough room, so i kinda just forgot okay?” he pouts as he returns to his task, pulling your sweatpants off of you.
you start to laugh until you feel his warm breath on your underwear. the sight of him looking at you from between your legs is something straight out of a wet dream, and you’re pleading.
“please jaemin..”
“please what, angel?”
you clench at the new nickname. you crave nothing more than for him to bury himself between your legs.
“please touch me.”
he pushes your underwear aside, and dives right in. you gasp at the feeling, feeling the wind knocked out of you as your hands immediately meet his head.
he groans at the feeling of you alternating between pushing his head deeper and tugging at his hair. the vibrations send chills down your spine, and your moans increase in volume as he lays sloppy kisses over your bud, eventually sucking it between his soft lips.
if you thought his lips felt heavenly on yours earlier, his lips on your most intimate parts takes it to a higher dimension. at some point, he slips your underwear completely off, getting right back into action.
he doesn’t let up, slipping his middle and ring fingers into your entrance, slowly thrusting in and out.
you feel the tension build in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter until a curl of his fingers sends you over the edge with a strangled moan. he works you through your orgasm, laying a final kiss before making his way back up your body at the feeling of your hands pushing his head away from your core.
“are you okay, angel?” you look at his smiling face, his beautiful lips covered in a wet sheen. if this is a dream, you don’t ever want to wake up. something hard and hot at your thigh snaps you out of your admiration.
“i’m perfect, jaem, but how about you?” you ask as you catch your breath, shifting your thigh against his bulge.
this catches him off guard and a deep groan leaves him. it’s music to your ears and you want to hear it again and again.
“let me ride you jaemin. please,” you present the idea to him and he brightens up, only to pull a worried expression.
“are you sure it’s okay? do you have enough energy?” he’s still the same jaemin you’ve come to appreciate, always wanting you to be comfortable. you just want to make him feel good, too.
“of course jaemin, i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to.” the worried expression leaves at your words as he takes off his pants and underwear. you pause as he reaches under the couch and pulls out a condom that he rolls onto his aching member.
“is there any other surprises this couch has?” you ask jokingly.
he laughs and he helps you up into straddling him as he leans against the back of the couch.
you grind on him as he softly pecks at your neck, feeling the vibrations of his low groans on your skin. you raise yourself and begin to lower yourself onto him, hissing at the stretch of his cock inching into your entrance.
“fuck, so fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out inch by inch, helping by pushing his hips up to meet yours. you moan at the feeling, with no one you’ve ever hooked up with being as thick as jaemin.
you bounce slowly, and you build a steady rhythm as you shut your eyes at the almost euphoric feeling. the combination of his cock reaching far deep into you and the weed coursing through your system has your entire body tingling. you open your eyes to peek at jaemin, who looks to be going through the same thing.
his brows are furrowed, and he’s letting out delicious groans with each bounce. he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours, and like magnets your lips meet.
“you feel so good, angel, so fucking good,” he murmurs against your lips. his hands move from your hips to your ass and he plants his feet into the couch.
a harsh thrust has you clinging onto him for dear life as he starts to piston into you, chasing your highs.
the two of your moans fill his living room as he speeds up, hitting you deeper and deeper until you’re reaching another mind numbing orgasm. your pulsing sends jaemin over the edge, and he pulls out, pulling the condom off to finish himself over his own stomach.
you plop onto your side, too tired to hold yourself up as you detach yourself from jaemin. you feel the weight of the couch shift and start to drift off until jaemin shakes you gently.
“sleep over? you can borrow some clothes and we can finish that movie.” you’re way too tired to think about going home and don’t have to work until tomorrow afternoon, so you’re quick to mutter a sleepy “okay.”
he gives you a hoodie and some pajama pants, and he goes back to his room to change his own clothes.
coming back to the sight of you in his hoodie, jaemin smiles to himself before sliding in with you to retire for the night.
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you are surprised to see that first night did not sour your growing friendship at all. movie nights and order pickups still continued, but the two of you fall into a different kind of routine. weed was slowly pushed from the center relationship. yes, he would have you over to smoke you out, but more and more you find that you get lost in conversation or a show before you can even take one puff.
either way, half the time you ended up finding yourself under him, or him under you. afterwards he lets you sleep over or walks you home after a short nap, depending on the time and if you have work.
while you’re glad nothing got awkward, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment from your growing desire to be more to him. to have more of him. all of him.
it always was some combination of talking, eating, smoking, sleeping, or fucking with jaemin, but the two of you never talked about what your relationship was. you’ve become comfortable with your arrangement, being willing to put aside the pangs in your chest to continue these nights with him.
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“he got you, didn’t he..” shotaro teases over the video call, catching up on the past few months since his move. he zeroed in on the numerous times you mentioned his recommended plug, knowing the charming nature of his friend.
“why are you saying that like you knew it would happen??” you bite back at his teasing, and he quickly clarifies.
“no, no, i was genuinely just introducing him to you as a plug, but i’ve known the dude for a while. he’s a great host, a great friend and overall, he’s a reeaaally great guy. if something happens, i approve.”
he’s echoing a similar jaemin spiel to the ones he went on before you met the man, but you can’t help but agree now that you know him just as well.
“i know, i know, but let’s talk about something other than jaemin.” you haven’t talked to taro in a while, and you didn’t want to spend your whole call recalling how well jaemin’s treated you. the more you think about it, feelings of uncertainty in the nature of your relationship also follow.
“okay, well anyways, i’ve been into this really cool new strain. they call it strawberry shortcake and it’s just crazy, you need to try it.” before you can respond, taro cuts in.
“you might need to get it somewhere else, though, let me see if another of my buddies around there has it.” you haven’t gone to any other plugs since you met jaemin, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to start now.
“don’t you think i can just get it from jaemin? he’d probably want to try.” he gives you a perplexed stare in response.
“i don’t think so, jaemin hates strawberries. i’m surprised that hasn’t come up at all?” the news from taro leaves you shocked.
you recall how jaemin didn’t have your beloved strawberry cough in stock when you first met him, but since then he’s never ran out. he could have just said from the beginning that he doesn’t carry it in stock.
was he buying it just for you? is he smoking what you like even if he doesn’t? if he is, what does that mean? the thoughts threaten to send your mind spiraling.
you try to push them aside to continue your chat.
once you finish your conversation with your friend and head to bed, you fight against a hopeful little voice in your head telling you that jaemin might just feel the same way as you.
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the next day, you initiate plans with jaemin, wanting to finish up a show the two of you started. he lets you know you can come over that evening after some customers leave, assuring you they won’t take long.
you head over to his place, heading up the elevator. you’ve never seen any of jaemin’s neighbors before, so you’re surprised when the doors open to a gorgeous girl. her hair is a slight mess, but she works it.
she offers a polite “excuse me” before going into the elevator to head down. as you pass her, you get a whiff of something very familiar.
fresh herbs, florals, and something.. sweet? you ponder on the scent on the short walk down the hall to jaemin’s. he opens the door with the same smile as always, and leads you inside when you smell it.
the same scent you smelled at the elevator.
strawberry cough.
“did you get started without me?” you try to keep a light hearted tone, trying to pry as much as you can without giving your suspicisons away.
“just a bit, a customer came by earlier and wanted to try out some of my stash, but they didn’t want to smoke alone so i had a hit or two.” he smiles innocently. your eyes move to the tv to see the show you were planning to watch already playing on the screen. your heart sinks.
jaemin is a really good guy. he’s so special to you and you feel like slowly but surely you’ve become just as special to him.
when you sit down, you ask him to put on a different movie, wanting to continue the show another time. you can’t seem to focus and the joint passed to you tastes a little more bitter than usual. your thoughts fester.
jaemin is a really good guy, but he is good to everyone. he’s so special to you, but you’re not sure anymore if you have even began to brush the surface of being anything more than a good friend.
even if you’re sleeping together, you weren’t exclusive, and it’s not like you’re the only one he watches shows with or his only smoking buddy, either.
neither of you ever moved to define what went on between you two, and that little voice from last night is telling you now that maybe there just wasn’t anything in need of defining in the first place.
you finish the movie with minimal conversation and ask him to walk you home, citing your change in demeanor to a long, tiring day.
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wanting to sort out your feelings, you decide you need a break from your regular visits, but 1 week of excuses and avoiding his invitations quickly turns into 3.
“shit.” you check your weed jar to find your strawberry cough stash running dangerously low. gnawing at your lip, you still can’t find it in you to reach out to jaemin, even if its just as a customer.
you’ve wanted to go back every time he’s invited you, but since the day you concluded that nothing actually special was going on between you two, you don’t know if you can act normal. you don’t know if you could lay under him, looking into his deep brown eyes and not tell him you are probably madly in love with him.
you needed some time to cool your feelings off. you’d be back after you sort it out, and everything would hopefully go back to the way it was.
you head to work and put your thoughts aside for now, actually grateful that there’s a line of customers to keep your mind busy. when it slows down a bit, you see a familiar face of a boy with rose gold hair.
yangyang was a friend you met through shotaro, seeing him in a lot of blunt rotations you’ve been in at shotaro’s functions.
“hey, yangyang! how are you?” you ask cheerily.
he’a quick to return your greeting, always being a pretty chill person to see even if you don’t know each other too well.
“not too bad, just running some errands. heading to my plug later, how are you?”
a lightbulb turns on in your head at his plans. the answer to your dilemma has arrived.
“better now, could i ask you a favor actually?”
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jaemin hears his doorbell ring, but he’s slow to get the door. he knows it’s not you, so what’s the rush? he grabs his customer’s order from his kitchen table and heads over.
even though he knows it isn’t you, a part of him wishes it was. he hasn’t seen you in 3 weeks, and it’s driving him crazy. you’ve just rejected another invitation to finish up that show you started, and he’s lost count now of how many times that’s happened.
he knows you’re busy, but he can also sense that something is off. he’s been scouring his memories for anything he could have done to upset you for the past week or so, but he can’t come up with anything.
he tries to assure himself that it’s just a schedule thing, nothing personal. he’s gotten used to your smoking habits, and he knows you’ll be running low soon.
it’s only a matter of time until you need to come see him, right? he can only hope that you want to.
he opens his door to see yangyang, one of his regular customers. he’s expecting a quick transaction, not really in the mood for small talk.
“hey yangyang, everything’s here.” jaemin hands yangyang the bag.
“hey, thanks. really quick though, can i add on an eighth of strawberry cough if you have any?” yangyang asks.
“i might, you trying something new?” jaemin responds, interest piqued at the familiar strain.
“nah, picking up some for a friend,” yangyang responds. jaemin’s eyes narrow slightly.
yangyang usually gets the same few things in rotation every time, but he’s never once asked for strawberry cough. jaemin wouldn’t think anything of it usually, but he’s a little sensitive at the mention of your favorite.
“oh, do i know them? maybe a potential new customer?” jaemin tries to disguise his prying as a new opportunity for him as a plug, but he’s just hoping the bad feeling in his gut isn’t true.
“it’s for my friend ___, they asked me to pick some up. do you know them?” his heart drops at the mention of your name.
jaemin goes silent for a second.
“..gotcha, i think i’m actually out right now but i’ll let you know when i have some back in stock.” jaemin lies, knowing he has a couple bags left, but there’s a bitter feeling making his stomach turn.
yangyang shrugs and says he’ll let you know, and then he’s on his way.
shutting the door with a heavy sigh, he goes to lay on his couch, which he’s had in its full pulled out state since the first night you slept together.
he remembers your dazed, glossy eyes, soft lips, and the way you lean into him. he remembers the way you look when he’s got you pressed into his cushions.
he hasn’t heard your voice in so long, the sweet sound of your laugh. he misses you.
jaemin picks up his phone.
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when you get his call, you’re lying in bed already. it’s 7pm on a friday night, and you are spending it moping around instead of going out with your friends.
you miss jaemin, his apartment, his smile, the way he’d spoil you in so many ways, everything. you’d rather be laying on that couch right now, but you know you shouldn’t.
it’s just as you start to push jaemin out of your brain that your phone starts ringing with that familiar caller id. his picture pops up, a cute one you took of him in his bedroom after a smoke sesh awhile back.
caught off guard, you end up picking it up right away, and the voice you’ve missed so badly sends waves through the speakers.
“hi, angel, are you free this weekend?”
that nickname with his deep voice is already undoing any “cooling off” you’ve done in the time apart from him.
“i’m not sure yet, what’s up?“ your voice comes out clear despite your nerves.
“i know you’ve been busy, but i thought you might be running a little low on your stash, can i come by to drop some off?” he offers.
your first instinct is to make up an excuse because you honestly aren’t prepared to see him, but you feel like you’ve made enough excuses by now. you’ve missed the sound of his voice and hearing it over the phone is your breaking point.
as much as you’ve tried to push aside your growing feelings, it’s only fair to both you and him if you finally lay down your boundaries.
“actually jaem, if you’re still free tonight, can we finish that show?”
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even though he insisted on picking you up, you decide you need the 20 minute walk to jaemin’s to calm yourself. your head is full of so many “what if’s,” and in no time you find yourself in front of his building. you see a familiar head of dark hair standing outside.
“there you are, angel,” he says as soon as you are in his sight, and he brings you into a tight hug. you immediately relax into his hold, not realizing how much your body missed his familiar touch.
“i-“ you start, but he shushes you.
“it’s cold out here, let’s go upstairs.”
he takes you up to his apartment, and you’re happy to see it’s still as comfy as you remember. he’s got the heater on, and it feels good on your cold face. he seats you on his couch as he always has, rubbing your arms up and down to get rid of the last bit of outside chill.
“what have you been up to? it’s been so long since i’ve seen your face, baby.”
while it isn’t new for him to be this cuddly, it’s usually later into your nights together. you remind yourself your intention for tonight, and you decide you need to get this over with.
you separate yourself from him, putting some space between you.
“i’ve been okay, jaem. but i came because i really need to talk to you.” he waits for you to continue, anxiety growing at your somber expression.
“i don’t think i’ll be able to come around anymore.”
jaemin frowns deeply. “i mean, it’s already been a while since you were over, even if you’re busy i don’t mind waiting, it’s no pressure at all?”
“no, i don’t mean that. i just don’t think i can stay in this sort of relationship with you anymore.” you are dancing around what you want to say, but it’s just so hard to get it out.
his heart sinks.
“because there’s someone else around?” you jump at jaemin’s voice, which has lowered at your words.
“what?”
he runs his hand through his hair frustratedly. it’s the first time you’ve seen him this distressed.
“jaemin, where is that coming from??” he says nothing, and it seems like he’s also having a hard time figuring out what to say.
“look jaem, this isn’t on you or anyone else. i’m grateful for all you do for me, you’re a really good friend and i love the time we spend together.” you bring yourself to look him in the eye.
“but i feel like i’ve started to rely on you too much, to expect and want more. it’s a lot, too much even. i don’t want to get my hopes up about anything, so i need to back off a bit.”
“hopes up?” jaemin looks at you with an unreadable expression. “what do you mean by that?” his own hopes start to rise.
you look down at your hands, debating on what to say. but you owe him the truth, even if it changes things between the two of you. honesty and time could save the platonic bond, even if it severs any hope of a romantic one.
“i like you jaem, i like you a lot and i don’t think i can be just friends with you, at least for right now.”
the silence following your confession is deafening.
he calls your name gently, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
“___, my angel.” he repeats.
he takes your hand gently in his, and your eyes move from your hands to see him smiling wider than you’ve ever seen.
he closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeply. his warm soft lips fit perfectly with yours and you melt into him, your hands threading through his hair. he kisses you like a starved man, and he pulls you closer and tighter.
you’re breathless when he pulls away after a while, his lips red and starting to swell.
“you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to hear that.” his eyes are piercing through you.
“i like you, too, and i don’t want to just be your friend. i’m sorry you had to say it first.” you want to cry hearing his confession, but instead wrap your arms around his neck and bring him back into a heated kiss.
you have to be dreaming. you’ve only thought about putting a stop to your feelings for jaemin for almost a month now, but the feeling of this man being in your arms knowing he feels the same way now is so surreal.
jaemin pushes you gently to rest on your back, his hand moving down as his lips stay glued to yours. he feels the same way. he likes you.
“angel, let me take care of you, please.” jaemin’s gaze holds so much intensity.
“i’m yours, jaemin.”
hearing that, he dives right back into your lips with a fervor even greater than earlier, his hands tugging at your pants and underwear to remove them.
he’s always been so intentional with his touches, always seeming to know the perfect way to touch you. your words, however, activate a desperation of wanting to feel more of you and it translates into his rushed, almost clumsy hands.
he cups your heat with one hand as the other sneaks under your shirt to knead at your chest.
you are getting wetter by the second, and jaemin pushes one finger into you. your lips leave his as you moan loudly at the intrusion, and his head moves down to meet his hand at your core.
“jaemin, wait.” he pauses.
“i want you to feel good, too.” jaemin chuckles.
“don’t mind me baby, there’s no greater pleasure for me than making you feel good.”
his words have you wanting to press his skillful mouth onto you as soon as possible, but you stop yourself. “let’s do it together then.”
his eyes almost bulge out of his head at the idea, and the idea goes straight to his cock. he can already feel himself pulsing with need.
“69?? you are too fucking good to me, angel.” and immediately he has you flipped over, with your heat hovering over his face and his cock in your hands.
he starts to lick at you, straining his neck up while you get to work taking him into your mouth. you get into a good rhythm, feeling his groans on your core.
you feel him smile as he harshly tugs your hips down onto his face. you gasp, trying go back into hovering. jaemin’s strong hold doesn’t let you move.
“don’t hover, sit on my face, please.” he goes in again on you, alternating between slurping loudly and swiping his tongue all over.
your legs give out at this and he lets out a deep groan at the feeling of you pressed into him. you give a hard suck on his tip and take him back into your mouth. the vibration from your moans has him seeing stars.
“oh my god,” he mumbles into your core. he separates himself from you for a moment.
“baby, baby stop, sit up, angel.” he pulls you off of him.
“that pretty mouth feels too good, gonna cum too soon,” he pants. “i’ve got you, just sit pretty and leave it to me okay?”
you want to keep going, but jaemin’s back at your entrance like a madman, pulling you to sit on him completely again. his tongue reaches deep into you. he’s moving your hips back and forth, and his chin digs into your bud.
the sudden onslaught of pleasure is too much, and he has you cumming on his face with a loud cry. he helps you ride through your orgasm and you detach yourself from him as he catches his breath.
when he rises, he moves to pull a box from under the couch, but you stop him.
“no, no, please just give it to me, i want to feel all of you.” he looks at you concerned.
“i’m on the pill and i haven’t slept with anyone else since we started fucking, so please just do it.”
his heart is absolutely swooning at your pleading for his dick and your revelation that you’ve been his since the beginning. he stations himself between your legs.
“you’ve got it, baby, you’re my only one, too.” with that, he inserts himself into you, his tip beginning that delicious stretch.
it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and jaemin takes his time inch by inch despite wanting nothing more than to ram into you in one go.
“you’re mine, angel, i like you so much and i want you all for myself.”
he groans as he bottoms out, letting you adjust to him, but he can feel himself throbbing inside of you.
“please move, jaemin, i need it so bad.” he’s more than happy to oblige, starting to speed up his thrusts gradually until he’s fully thrusting in and out.
he reaches so fully deep into you, and he pulls out all the way to his tip before snapping his hips into you again.
“you’re so perfect. my angel, my baby, my ___.” he’s whispering sugary sweet words into your ear, and that in combination with his thrusts make your head start to float as your eyes roll back. this feeling is better than any high weed could give you.
“jaemin, jaemin, jaemin,” your cries of his name only encourage him to go faster, hit deeper. his hand presses into your lower stomach, and his fingers rub circles into your bud.
“cum for me, you can do it, just let go.” and you do just that, your back arching off the couch. jaemin pulls out and immediately plunges his fingers back into you to ride out your orgasm.
at this point, his cock is leaking, desperate and throbbing with the need to cum, but he wants you in one more way tonight.
he flips you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and teasing your slit with the head of his cock. he plunges back in with a deep groan and begins fucking into you.
your head is clouded from your orgasms and the feeling of overstimulation, and you almost dont feel him reach for something. you hear the clicking of a lighter.
looking behind you, you see jaemin lighting a pipe, all while fucking into you still. he takes a deep inhale, holding it in before blowing it out away from you.
if you had this view on video, you’d be able to get off to it anytime, anywhere. you clench around him tightly as you see him blow out the smoke. your eyes are glued to him.
he notices your gaze. “do you want some, pretty baby?”
you nod hurriedly, turning your head back front as his thrusts push you up the couch. he takes another hit.
a strong hand reaches around to pull you so that your back is pressed against his front. he turns your face to him as he blows smoke into your open mouth. you clench even tighter, and he closes the distance and kisses you sloppily. the smoke is seeping out past both of your mouths, filling the room.
“you’re mine. i’m yours, only yours.” he growls into your ear.
he fucks into you, holding you around your mid section with both of you on your knees. he lets go to hold onto your hips and you slump back onto the couch, unable to hold yourself up. he speeds up, thrusts turning sloppier by the second.
“f-fuck, angel. i’m so close. let me fill you up, i’ll give it to you so good.”
you clench at the promises he’s moaning out loud and he gets closer and closer to his peak. his thrusts are all over the place, desperate to finish as you lock your ankles around his to start rocking your hips back onto his.
“could treat you ten times better than anyone else. no one else for me. you’re the only one i’d ever want or need, only you.”
his sugary words are spilling out and the feeling is all too much as his hips stutter, cumming inside you with a deep, strangled groan. you milk him dry as he empties himself into you, toppling over to lie next to you.
the two of you lie side by side, trying to catch your breath, and he pulls you close to him.
you are emotionally and physically exhausted, but jaemin gets up after a few minutes, coming back with a towel and hoodie.
he cleans you up and helps you to your feet to use the restroom.
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when you settle back into the couch after getting ready for bed, he puts on your show as you cuddle into his side. everything feels so familiar, yet so different without the feelings of uncertainty. you look up at him.
“when were you going to tell me you hated strawberries?” your question catches him off guard.
“who said that??” he chuckles nervously, but he knows he’s been caught and there’s no arguing.
“no seriously, you didn’t have to force yourself or buy that strawberry cough just for me.” you do feel a little bad that he was, even if it was his own free will.
he pauses.
“i just needed something to keep you coming back, aside from my pull out couch of course,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. but his words hold truth.
“you should’ve known a month in that you didn’t need strawberry cough to keep me coming back,” you let out a little laugh at how cute he was being.
“imagine the betrayal i felt knowing that you were going to someone else for it though??”
you look at him confused. gears click in your brain when you remember the rose-haired friend you'd talked to earlier that day.
“oh, you know yangyang?” it makes sense given jaemin, shotaro, and yangyang share many mutual friends.
“yes i know the asshole. gonna monopolize it so you don’t ever cheat on me again.” he pouts.
“yes, yes, boyfriends get official exclusive plug rights,” you joke. “as long as you’re not smoking my strawberry cough with anyone else.”
“i won’t even sell it to anyone anymore, it’s reserved for my angel only. and boyfriend?” he smiles and kisses you gently. “i like the sound of that.”
after a few more kisses, you turn your attention back to the show, but jaemin pulls his pipe back out.
“does that mean we can smoke something not strawberry flavored tonight?” he asks, looking relieved.
you laugh and give him the OK, and he’s more than happy to pull out a whole array of different strains he’s been wanting to try with you. you sweat at the variety, but you know you have more than enough time to try them all now that you’re sure he’s yours, and you’re his.
end.
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if you got this far, thank you so much for reading! this is my first full length fic and i hope to write more in the future <3 i hope u enjoyed! shares and feedback are appreciated -coco :)
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munsonluhvr · 3 months
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can you make a virgin! Eddie x experienced ! reader smut plsssssss I’ve been wanted to read to read a good story abt something like that yk 🙈 but ima not be picky sooo anything Eddie x reader would be good 😋
Ty I love your stories 💙💙💙
ANATOMY LESSON
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contents: virgin!eddie munson x experienced! reader. smut! 18+. Eddie reveals to you, his best friend, that he's a virgin and you offer him a little lesson - but the lesson turns into a lot more then either of you expected. word count - 3.5k
notes: dear requester - I love you for requesting this. There were sooo many different scenarios I thought of writing for this request, and I totally ignored the pile of homework I have to do to write this immediately, but I hope everyone enjoy this. It was awfully fun to write.
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“Wait, what?” you say, a laugh lacing your tone. You lay on Eddie’s bed, your sock covered feet digging into his bedsheets. “You’re so lying, you haven’t done it yet? How did I not know that?” 
Eddie doesn’t turn to look at you, obviously embarrassed by his admission. Finally, Eddie shrugs, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know, I guess we never talk about our sex lives with each other.” 
“Well, yeah, because there’s clearly not much going on in that department in either of our lives, but I did assume you’ve had sex for the first time by now.” You say, leaning up on your arm to look at Eddie. You were honestly shocked by the admission; how had Eddie not had sex, especially since he’s two years ahead of you? 
It’s the wee hours after you and Eddie have been released from school, opting to, as usual, spend time with each other. You and Eddie had been best friends for as long as you could remember, always bound at the hip. When you were younger, your parents had been friendly, pushing you and Eddie together. When Eddie’s parents left Eddie with Wayne, his uncle, your parents were quick to absorb Eddie into your family. However, you always made the distinction that you didn’t see yourselves as essentially siblings, everyone certainly knew that you two were the best of friends. Any free time you had you spent with Eddie, every secret you had Eddie knew. Eddie was your other half, and you were his. 
Again, Eddie shrugs. “Consider that assumption wrong,” Eddie says, turning away from you.
You can’t help but snicker. Eddie was the coolest, most confident person you know. He never cared about what others thought of him, he owns the title ‘freak’ that Hawkins titled him with utmost pride. Sure, Eddie had never had a girlfriend but that doesn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t had sex. 
“Do you want to?” You say, curious. Didn’t every young male want to have sex? 
Eddie lets his eyes flick to you; he frowns. “Y/n, I don’t want to talk about it, especially with you.” 
You gasp in an exaggerated fashion, leaning on your arm to place your free hand over your heart. “Why not? We talk about everything with each other.” 
Eddie rolls onto his side, facing you, mimicking your position. He shakes his head. “This is different. Guy and girl best friends aren’t supposed to inquire about each other’s sex lives.” 
You scoff. “That’s bullshit, it’s not a big deal, Eddie. It’s just sex, it seems ridiculous to make that the one topic we don’t talk about with each other.” 
Again, Eddie shakes his head, looking off into the distance behind you. “I don’t know, it’s just weird.” 
You can understand how Eddie must feel - embarrassed. For some reason, having sex, or talking about it in society is shameful but at the same time not having done it at all, especially as teenagers, is shameful. You decide to joke and make it lighthearted to encourage him to lighten up. It truly wasn’t a big deal. 
“Eddie Munson, are you the waiting until marriage type?” You say, laughing as you shove him lightly. 
Eddie groans, burying his face into his tattooed covered bicep. “Y/n, stop. Trust me, not having had sex yet isn’t a choice; I would have done by now if the opportunity ever occurred.” 
“Is there someone you want to do it with?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. Eddie hadn’t recently expressed having a crush on anyone at school but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a girl he has his eye on. 
“No,” Eddie says. He peeks up at you from his arm. “Okay, fine, yes.” 
“Eddie, what the hell,” you exclaim. “Are we even best friends if you keep all these things from me?” 
“I’m telling you now,” Eddie says, sitting back up. “It’s embarrassing; I like this girl but have no experience in that department whatsoever. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I got her back home.” 
You are dying to know who Eddie likes, knowing that whoever she is, she’s lucky. You’d love nothing more to encourage Eddie to pursue this girl, but you know asking who she is might be a bridge to far for Eddie in this moment; you decide to stay focused on the topic at hand. 
You’re silent for a minute, thinking over tips to help Eddie in the moment where he would have a sexual encounter with a girl – then a wild idea comes to your mind. 
“I’ll help you,” you say, sitting up. “I’ll teach you what to do.” 
Eddie frowns. “What? How would you teach me to have sex?”
You laugh, knowing what you’re about to say will shock Eddie. “I’ll have sex with you,” you say nonchalantly and as if Eddie should have understood that right away. 
“Y/n,” Eddie says, jolting up from his spot on his bed. “Have you lost your mind?” 
You shrug, starting to peel off your jacket you’re wearing. “Like I said, sex is no big deal. I can walk you through what to do so you know what to do when it happens with the girl you like.” 
Eddie crosses his arms, sliding himself off the bed to pace at the foot of his bed. Your head goes from side to side as you watch your best friend walk from one side of his bedroom to the other side. “No, I can’t have sex with you, you’re my best friend.” 
You hum. “To me, that’s exactly why you should have sex with me. Think about it Eddie, we have been in each other’s lives for as long as we can remember, we’ve done everything together and know everything about each other. We’ve always been there for and supported each other in any way the other needs; teaching you how to have sex is just another way I can support you.” 
The idea to have sex with Eddie, with the end goal being that Eddie is more confident with a girl, sounded insane to begin with and even suggest, but as you explain yourself– it didn’t sound that insane at all. 
Eddie laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair then crossing his arms over his chest. “This is a joke, right?” 
You roll your eyes. “No, it’s not. Here, I’ll prove it: I’ll show you my tits.” You say, tucking your hands underneath your t-shirt and letting your fingers dig underneath the band of your bra. 
Eddie yelps, covering his eyes. “No, y/n, don’t. Okay, I believe you.” 
You laugh, dropping your hands into your lap. “I’m serious, Eddie. We can take it slow; I’ll teach you everything and answer any questions you have.” 
Eddie glances at you, maintaining eye-contact as he mulls over a response to your question. Eddie is twenty years old, far passed the average age everyone at Hawkins has sex for the first time. Always, but more recently, he’s been worried about how his performance might be for the lucky lady and how she might expect him to be more experienced considering his age. Although he finds your proposition jarring, he decides to put the awkwardness aside and take up your offer. “Okay,” is all Eddie can manage to say. 
You clasp your hands, happy that your oh so thoughtful offer was accepted. “I knew you’d come to your senses. Are you ready?”
“You want to do it right now?” Eddie says, his eyes growing wider. A hot wave washes over him, instantly becoming nervous. 
You give him a curious look. “I mean, there’s no better time than the present, plus we didn’t have any other plans for later.” 
You watch Eddie as he turns into a nervous wreck, his fingertips digging into his already crossed arms. You can imagine how being told you’re going to have sex on the spot can make someone feel, so you lean forward on the bed, outstretching your arm to grasp onto Eddie. “It’s okay, we’ll take care of each other,” you say, offering a small smile. 
In response to your touch, Eddie lets his arms drop to his sides. He moves from the end of the bed to the side you occupy, getting several feet closer to you. “Okay, right now it is then,” Eddie says, nervousness lacing his words. 
And you begin your lesson. 
“Okay, so. Say you just took this mysterious girl that you like out on a date and things went so well, which she’s on a date with you so of course it would, that you take her back to here.” You say, gesturing towards his bedroom that you both stand in. “Once she gives you that look, a look that says, ‘I want to have mind blowing sex with you have to set the mood immediately.”  
“Set the mood?” Eddie says. 
You roll your eyes. “Kiss her. You have to start kissing her, Eddie. Feel her up a little, don’t be coy, I know you’ve watched porn before.” Eddie’s cheeks flush with embarrassment but you continue on. 
You scoot over on the bed, allowing space for Eddie to sit. You pat the open space, tugging Eddie to sit next to you. “When you start with kissing, it makes it easier to transition to stripping clothes off and ultimately have sex, you know?” 
Eddie nods, crossing his arms across his chest. You’re quick to uncross them, scooting closer to Eddie, the side of your leg touching his. “Okay, go, kiss me.” 
Eddie’s mouth opens and the closes, his mind drawing a blank. “Okay, no, that is a bridge too far.” 
“Eddie, did you really think I’d just let you dry fuck me without any foreplay? Foreplay is the most important part.” You exclaim, shaking your head. 
Eddie looks away and then complies. He leans in, his hands placing themselves on your cheek, drawing you closer to him. Your lips meet, letting your mouths intertwine with each other, tongues beginning to dance. You thought Eddie would pull away quickly, but he doesn’t, letting your mouth stay connected to his. You can feel the eagerness in his mouth, every movement begging for more. You take your lesson to second base. 
Swiftly, you lay back on Eddie’s bed, Eddie following you down. With ease, he arranges himself over you as you part your legs to let him rest on top of you comfortably. You lean your head back, letting your lips break away from Eddie’s. “Very good, now is when you start taking her clothes off – and yours.”
Eddie squirms nervously on top of you and you’re sure you feel his arms lightly tremble. “Are you sure about this?” 
“Never been surer about anything, Munson.” 
Eddie sighs, leaning back onto his knees. His fingers tempt the end of his t-shirt, lifting it up and off of his torso. You watch, looking at his tattooed covered body and noticing the necklace that has a guitar pick as it’s pendant that hangs around his neck. You roll your eyes; He loves that thing.
Eddie goes to unbuckle his belt, but you gently kick his leg. “Don’t take off all your clothes and then mine; make it a back-and-forth thing. You take your shirt off, then take mine off. It’s a joint effort, let her do some of the work too.” 
Eddie considers this, coming to an understanding on your principle. He places himself over you, his fingers twitching as he plays with the hem of your shirt, beginning to lift it up and off your body too. 
Eddie has never seen you naked, not fully at least. Sure, there was that one time you got caught in the rain and your shirt was so soaked that you stripped it off once you got to his house, opting to borrow one of Eddie’s shirts. He had seen your bra then, the way your breasts settled in your bra nicely, the raindrops dripping down your chest. There was also that other time he realized how comfortable you were with him when you stripped down to your underwear and bra on a hot Indiana summer day, unable to bear the feeling of your clothes on your body or against your skin. Eddie had tried, in both of those instances, to give you your privacy and not stare at your assets – but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were drawn to your silky, supple skin, your curves, and the way you were so close to being naked, revealing your most intimate parts to him, but he didn’t let himself think about you in that way – at least not then. 
Eddie tosses your shirt on the side of his bed, letting it drop to the floor. He realizes he’s holding his breath as he’s looking at your breasts, one of your nipples poking out from behind the bra. You notice that he’s analyzing you, taking in your bare skin. You don’t mind, you find yourself comfortable under his gaze. 
“Keep going,” you say, though it comes out as a whisper. Your hands travel to his crotch, your fingers beginning to unzip the fly of his pants. Once his jeans are unzipped, you and Eddie work together to shrug his jeans off. You kick his jeans to the side of the bed, letting the piece of clothing fall next to your shirt on the floor. Eddie is quick to attend to your pants, his fingers enveloping the band of your jeans, pulling your bottoms off swiftly. Your hands find their way to his biceps, steadying yourself as Eddie works to pull your clothes off. 
Eddie feels himself getting hard against your thigh, his arousal growing stronger but he’s quick to try and hide that fact. You lean up, your front pressing into Eddie as you reach behind yourself, unclipping your bra. Eddie almost cums in his boxers as he watches your breasts bounce out of your undergarment. Eddie doesn’t know what to do next, his mind in a whirlwind. He closes his eyes, looking away from you as he shrugs his boxers off, his cock bouncing out of its restraint, showcasing his arousal. 
You swallow hard, eyeing his larger-then-you-imagined cock. Eddie has never known if his cock is a decent size, never having anything to compare it to or someone to tell him so, but by the look on your face, he knows he’s just fine. 
Eddie waits a beat, waiting for you to pull your panties down but you don’t move. You want him to take them off. Eddie catches on eventually, hooking his two fingers on either side of your hips, pulling your panties off with ease. Deep inside, Eddie’s sexual hunger grows, wishing he could do away with your rules, letting his primal nature guide the exploration of your body. But he restrains himself, waiting for your instructions.  
You part your legs, revealing your most sensitive part and now it’s Eddie’s turn to swallow hard, beginning to imagine what’s to come. 
“And now?” Eddie says, his fingertips brushing your jaw as he pushes a strand of your hair that clings to your face. You watch him intensely, feeling the tension grow between you and Eddie rapidly. A pit grows in your stomach, the stimulation of Eddie de-clothing you causing a rush of emotions. You’re hoping this doesn’t turn out to be a mistake. 
You clear your throat. “I have a feeling you know what to do now.” In response, Eddie offers you a small smile, re-positioning himself on top of you. 
Eddie lines himself up with you, cock in his hand, and he inserts the tip in, pushing himself into you slowly. You gasp, biting your lip as you let your head fall back; the feeling of Eddie pushing himself inside of you igniting a strong sense of pleasure throughout your body and limbs. 
Eddie thinks back to the porn he’s watched, though he knows that’s not an accurate representation of sex or how girl want to be treated. He mimics some of what he’s remembered seeing, rolling his hips so that he pulls himself in and out of you rhythmically. 
You let your legs wrap around Eddie’s waist; Eddie glances down, noticing how he’s drawn into you further when your legs attached to him – he wishes he could have your legs around him forever, holding him in place. He shakes his head at the thought. 
“What’s wrong?” You say, your hands finding their way to Eddie’s face. Eddie continues to move in and out of you and a soft moan escapes your lips. 
“Oh, uh – nothing.” Eddie says, adjusting his arm that rests next to you. His new position brings you and Eddie’s chests closer, your nipples brushing his bare skin. Eddie finds himself not being able to concentrate. 
 Your hands move from his face, moving them to let your fingertips brush Eddie’s back. His skin his warm, your body feeling cold and exposed. Your body heats up when you acknowledge how Eddie’s cock bulges inside of you, stretching the walls of your cunt to allow him inside of you. You had already had sex before, with two or three guys, but no guy was as big as Eddie – of course Eddie would have the biggest cock out of all the guys you’ve slept with. 
 While you’re thinking about how Eddie’s cock is painfully, yet pleasurably, big - Eddie is staring at your tits, wondering how they’d fit in his mouth. Just then, Eddie has no idea what comes over him. He suddenly has no regard for the concept of your ‘anatomy’ exercise, attempting to teach him how to have sex as his best friend – Eddie just wants to fuck the shit out of you. He wants to fuck his best friend. 
Eddie dips down to your chest, his large, ring-covered hand, clasping your breast. His mouth engulfs your breast, his lips puckering around your hard nipples. Eddie lets his tongue flatten against you, roughly licking your tits. You gasp again, your body arching in response to his bold act. Instantly, your fingers lace into his hair, pushing him further down against your chest. Eddie, emboldened by your response, moves to your other breast, copying what he had done just seconds before. 
Once he finishes with your second breast, Eddie keeps his mouth to your sternum, placing a trail of kisses from your chest up to your neck, leaving soft kisses underneath your ear. 
“Go faster,” You say, your thighs clenching around him. You knew it was wrong, the feeling you have growing inside of you as Eddie thrusts in and out of you. You wanted him bad, in ways you knew weren’t the ways you should think about your best friends. 
Eddie obeys, making his movements quicker, his thrusts rougher. Eddie loves the way he feels in this moment, the trembling of yours legs around him and the way your fingertips grip the roots of his hair. He never wanted this to end. 
“Am I doing it right?” Eddie says, mumbling into your neck. 
“You’re doing so good, that girl, whoever she is, is so lucky.” You say, a moan parting your sentence. “Fuck, this feels good.” Eddie smiles against your skin at your answer, his body moving smoothly against yours as if you’re two perfect fitting puzzle pieces.  
Eddie feels a burning sensation growing inside of him, his skin beginning to flush. He was about to finish. Obviously, Eddie had jerked off before, a lot actually, so he knew what feeling close felt like but this time feeling like he’s about to come while inside of you feels a lot different – it feels so much better. He doesn’t want to stop, enjoying the way he’s come to having sex with ease, as if he’s a natural at it, but he knows the inevitable and not something he can control entirely. 
 You, being just as wild as Eddie, pull his mouth back to yours, enveloping your lips on his. The action made everything much more intimate, so much deeper than just helping your friend out. Your lips nip at his, begging to be paid attention to. Eddie leans on one arm, letting his hand trail to your face, his large hand cupping half of your face. He leans into the kiss, glad to pay attention to your mouth. Eddie feels the intimacy grow between you, making his arousal even stronger, and he comes – instantly. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Eddie whispers, separating his mouth from yours. He looks down, noticing how specks of his semen are splatted across your inner thighs.  
You laugh softly, secretly wishing you could go for a second round. You mauver your body under Eddie’s top sheet, hiding yourself from Eddie. “And that’s how you have sex. I’ll give you an A-, you should pay more attention to foreplay when the real thing happens.” 
Eddie follows you, submersing himself under the sheets. “So, you’re saying I could use more lessons with you?” 
You frown, looking over at Eddie. “What? You want to do this again?” 
Eddie looks away, staring at his guitar that hangs on his mirror. His guitar is his prized position, a material object he finds so much confidence and security in. Eddie realizes it’s time to confess. “You know the girl you asked me about?” Eddie asks you. “Well, that girl is you.”
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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
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[Old love never rusts. Shanks has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]
Shanks's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?
Shanks knows he has no right to ask this question. Not when he's the one that up and left in the middle of the night, without even a word of warning that could soothe your aching heart. Nevertheless, he can't help but indulge his yearning:
"How is she?"
Mihawk raises his eyebrows barely noticeably. He seems surprised that after Shanks's disappearing act and a decade of dead silence, he's still interested in you, even if motivated by pure courtesy. But before Mihawk answers the question, he notices something strange in the red-haired captain's eyes, a sensation he's rarely seen in them before - sadness.
Interesting, how some things never quite change.
"Well," Mihawk answers laconically. Instead of indulging Shanks's lovesick longing, he wishes the man would finally accept his utter failure and move on. You're married to Dracule and this isn't going to change anytime soon. If ever.
"Wells tend to be cold and musty," Shanks jokes but his tone is far from lighthearted. In fact, his voice sounds strained like he's holding back tears. "I hope she fared better with you."
The Red-Hair pirates laugh at their captain's joke but quickly turn quiet again. Something about the tense confrontation makes their good humour virtually nonexistent. Especially when Mihawk gives them a curt, cold glare. He doesn't find his past rivalry with Shank to be funny in any way.
"She has everything she could ask for," he says with a sense of finality to his words. Mihawk feels himself growing irritated.
"Good, good..." Shanks nods, lost in thought for a moment. He clenches his hand, giving away the unpleasant tension inside his chest. The captain has promised himself to let go of you. Alas, here we are. "Is she happy?" he suddenly asks.
Mihawk furrows his thick eyebrows in an angry frown. It's almost insulting for Shanks to have any doubts regarding your well-being under the Warlord's care. "What sort of question is this?"
"A 'yes or no' sort."
"Then yes," he drones his words.
Shanks forces a wide, playful smile. There's agony hiding in his eyes and as though Mihawk is a blind man, he's trying to play it cool and appear unaffected. The truth is, the red-haired man is holding on by a thread.
"I bet she talks about me all the time," Shanks says in faux amusement. His voice almost doesn't shake. "We both know I've always been her favourite."
"And you'd lose." Mihawk begins to feel an insidious satisfaction from the distress of the other man. "In fact, I doubt she thinks about you at all."
"You keep telling yourself that, hawk-eyes."
"This misguided flattery is much unwarranted," Mihawk warns him. "No one bets on losing dogs."
But she would, Shanks thinks to himself. She always did.
Short fingernails leave bruising marks on the inside of Shanks's palm as he's clenching his fist. Once again he's reminded that when it mattered, he was a coward and fled from the overwhelming, crippling love he feels for you. Only know there's no hope, there's no ifs - you belong to another man.
Afternoon sunlight reflects off of Mihawk's gold ring. Shanks glares at it for a moment too long to pass off his intense stare as circumstantial. He can almost hear the mocking laughter of the universe as the consequence of the amalgamation of his bad choices is merely two meters away from him. There is nothing he wouldn't give up to turn back the time and make sure that things go differently, that he never became afraid of being too deep in love.
But time, like the seas, has no master.
_____
I was so torn about this one, I couldn't decide until the very end, so if you want to read a version where the scenario is flipped and Shanks is the 'lucky guy', just hit me up.
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crispywaffles2 · 1 month
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Hello 👋 I hope you are having a wonderful day or night! May I request a Macaque x reader oneshot? Were both are having like flirt contest or sm like that, and they try act all smug and confident, but in reality, they're very flustered with each other? Thank you <<3
Hi!!! Of course I can, and thank you so much for requesting! I'm sorry for how long this took!
First to Fall (Macaque x Reader)
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Macaque leans against the tattered cushions of the old couch he stole for his dojo/residence a while ago, throwing his head back as he howls with laughter. He places one hand on his forehead, the other cradling his sore stomach while he cackles at his companions misfortune.
"It is not funny! Stop laughing!" your frantic and embarrassed protests ironically fall on deaf ears, however.
Just minutes earlier the two of you were playing a fun game you had suggested, A Hat in Time, on your Switch. Everything was fun and lighthearted at first; the two of you laughing at the zany situations and lightly poking fun at the others playing style. But everything went downhill when you made it to Subcon Forest.You had jokingly made a comment about how Snatcher, the antagonist of the level, looked eerily similar to the simian beside you, to which Macaque took great offence.
To get you to answer for your crimes, he willed the lights to flicker. That alone was enough to get you a bit on edge. After that the lights turned off, and you could feel or see him beside you anymore.Just before you could delve into a panic, the lights suddenly turned on and Macaque loomed over you from the shadows.
"Boo."
And that lead you to now; the demon struggling to catch his breath as he wheezes at your dispense and you looking angry and utterly embarrassed.
"I'm sorry-! But the look on your face!" he takes a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself not to break out laughing again as he leans forward with a small breath of relief.
"Ahh... you are so cute when you pout like that," the demon hums teasingly, thick eyebrows arched in amusement as he gazes at you through half lidded eyes.
The way your eyes widen at his sudden change in tone is something that can't be controlled, but you are not one to be bested twice. Through sheer will, you force your cheeks not to warm up and give him a steely glare. Two can play at this game. Your grumpy frown melts into a suave smirk, mimicking your companion's.
"I only did it to make you smile. I love the way your face lights up when you laugh." and it wasn't exactly a lie. You really did love seeing his sharp pearly whites when he smiled, even if it was in the smug or condescending manner he usually did. And the sound of his deep, rich cackles stirred something deep within you, something that made your knees go weak.
Macaque doesn't seem to sense the faint undertones of sincerity in your tone (thank goodness), and takes this as a challenge.
He never thought he'd see the day that little old you would challenge someone as naturally suave and charming as him to s flirting battle, but he wasn't complaining.
"You're talking about my laugh? I have yet to hear a giggle as cute as yours." Once again, it takes everything in you not to burst out stammering.
You weren't some pushover, and you weren't going to stand for Macaque scaring you even if his words send jolts of electricity through your body and he was so damn hot when he lowered his voice like that-
You huff and roll your eyes. "Macaque please. We both know that you're the finest thing in this room," you speak as if it's common knowledge, and for some reason that makes Macaque pause.
As confident as the simian is, he doesn't get many compliments. Usually things along the lines of 'conniving' or 'sneaky' are used to describe him. But fine? Oh, you had no idea what you made him feel with that one.
"Oh, I beg to differ doll-" he begins, only to get cut off by a snarky guffaw.
"I beg to differ, handsome." you give him a hard, stone cold stare. This was your chance to let out all of the things you've been feeling for him for who knows how long without being questioned. He wouldn't know you were being serious. Why not just pour it all out now while you have the chance?
"Your smile has got to be one of the most charming things I've ever seen, and don't even get me started on your eyes. Those two things alone could sweep some poor lady off of her feet. And your voice- I could go on for hours about your voice. It's so deep and- and relaxing- you should totally do a podcast or something because it'd have me out like a light in just a few minutes. And that thing you do where you run your fingers through your hair when you think something is funny makes me want to-"
You abruptly cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. You basically almost confessed. You'd cut yourself off, but the intentions were clear. Your blush spreads so far and fast it reaches the tips of your ears. It was just fun and innocent flirting until you went and ruined it by being genuine and passionate like an idiot.
You slowly look up, eyes wide with embarrassment and fear as you prepare yourself for that harsh and demeaning laugh that he gives everyone when he thinks they're stupid. But it never comes. Instead, what you see when you lift your eyes, is a red faced simian trying to cover up his face with his scarf while looking away from you. But the flush on his ears couldn't be denied, and neither could the smile playing at his lips.
".. you really meant that didn't you?" he asks shakily, making you immediately try to backpedal.
He wasn't making eye contact with you anymore. That had to be a bad sign. But before you could open your mouth and begin letting a waterfall of apologies cascade out, a small snicker can be heard. It was Macaque, obviously. He tries covering his mouth, but the laughter seeps through. Except this laughter wasn't mocking or mean. The six eared Macaque was sitting on your couch, letting out almost comically giddy giggles.
He might as well have been twirling his hair and kicking his feet too. Surprised by this unexpected reaction, you slowly begin laughing along. His laughter still had that deep, rich twang to it, but now it was filled with a lightness that made you feel.. all kinds of different things. Macaque quickly gets his act together, clearing his throat and straightening up with embarrassment.
"I... guess we have our winner huh?" he asks in a slightly awkward tone, looking as though he was holding himself back from something. You're quick to speak up before you can get cut off again.
"Macaque I'm so sorry- I just got carried away and I don't- I poured my heart out like that by accident!" you stammer, hoping what you're saying is at least a bit intelligible.
Macaque puts his hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"It's okay dude, I'm not mad or anything.. in fact..." he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against your cheek, causing you to freeze up and go completely red.
"now I have more things to tease you with," he cackles, pulling away before you could land any sort of hit on him.
He sinks into one of his shadow portals, making you frown, before he reemerges in the kitchen. You knew what this was about. If you wanted revenge you'd have to work for it. You shoot up from the couch, running around his dojo like a headless chicken trying to catch your dark furred friend. Er... partner? A kiss on the cheek wasn't exactly platonic, but he never said he wanted to be more than friends either.
You decide not to think too hard about it, focusing on finding Macaque instead. And when you finally do manage to tackle the monkey, it's obvious it's only because he let you. And to enact your revenge, you begin peppering kisses all over his stupid, smug face. Macaque lets out another round of that giddy laughter, and then brushes his lips against yours before disappearing.
You chase him around the apartment again. And so the cycle continues.
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headcanonenthusiast · 4 months
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Alex Keller NSFW headcanons 
This was made with both masc and fem readers in mind. This man really has absolutely no content out there, so I'm here to provide for y'all 😎 Enjoy! (Also, sorry if this is a little dry. It's my first time posting headcanons 😔)
(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.) 
NSFW under the cut
-An absolute GOD at oral sex. He'll eat the pussy/suck dick as if he were famished
-Please smother him with your thighs when he eats you out/sucks you off. He'll be absolutely devastated if you don't. Doesn't care what your body type is, do it and he'll be happy for the rest of the week
"Fuckin smother me with those thighs, baby. What? No, no, don't you worry about me suffocating. If I do, then at least I'll die a happy man." 
-And if you look at him with any hint of unamusement, he'll chuckle and kiss your inner thigh. 
-Pays special attention to your clit/tip. He'll kiss at and slowly run his fingertips over it while complimenting your body. 
-"Look at this pretty little pussy/cock, baby. So adorable." 
-HEAVY on praise. Everything that falls from his mouth is either a moan or praise for you. 
-"Aw, fuck, dolly. You're taking me so well. Such a good girl/boy." 
-Prefers handjobs as opposed to head. Doesn't think you're bad at it or anything, just wants you to be able to respond to him when he talks.
-May not be big on head, but kiss his cock while your hands are wrapped around it and he might just cum right then and there. 
-Not very kinky at all, but he may have a bit of a breeding kink ngl..
-Mostly because he actually wants kids. Whether you can have them or not, he'll beg to fill you up. 
-Absolutely not a degrader. He'd feel way too bad. 
-If you really begged him, he might try degrading you, but that'll all melt away in five seconds as he gently kisses your face in apology, even if you're getting into it. 
"Oh, sunshine, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. Just don't think I could degrade someone so gorgeous/handsome." 
-Very vocal, but mostly with talking. He 100% talks you through it 
"Lift your leg up a little bit for me, baby. There we go, good girl/boy." 
-If you're insecure about your body in any way, he'll carefully run his fingertips over whatever's making you insecure while fingering/jerking you off in front of a mirror. 
-"Look at that amazing body, sweetheart. Takes me so well, makes me cum everytime..so beautiful/handsome. How could you hate a body like that, hm?" 
-"Hell you mean you're too chubby/skinny? You're the perfect size for me, darling." 
-Kisses and caresses any scars, stretchmarks, birthmarks or anything else on your body you may feel self-conscious about.
-If you space out at any point, or if he just wants your eyes on him, he'll click his tongue to snap you out of your thoughts. 
-Constantly asking if you're alright. If you ever start crying during the act, he'll stop in his tracks and fuss over you. 
"Oh God, are you okay? Did I hurt you, sunshine? Too rough?" 
-Then when you convince him that you were just crying because of how good he's fucking you, he sighs in relief and chuckles a little. 
"Silly girl/boy. Had me all scared for a sec." 
-Will leave hickeys on you and will let you do it to him, but always somewhere noone else will see. You're his precious dolly, afterall. Why would Alex ever embarass you over making those marks visible? 
-Besides, with the way he's got his arm snaked around your waist in public, everyone knows you're his 
-Leaves hickeys on your chest, thighs and stomach (will definitely leave more on your thighs/belly if you're chubbier.) 
-Tickles your neck with his facial hair on purpose and smirks when it makes you giggle. 
-Has a lighthearted mindset about sex. Not opposed to making jokes and giggling during, before or after the act. As long as you're both feeling good, he's happy.  
-Tells you that your pussy/dick/ass is the best in the world. Genuinely can't get enough of it. 
"Shit, baby. This fuckin' pussy/ass is gonna make me cum..you wanna make me cum, baby? Yeah? Keep riding me then..just like that." 
-Favorite positions are ones where you're on his lap. It feels so intimate and loving, the way he can feel your grip tighten on his shoulders and see every reaction you make as his cock smoothly fucks you. 
-Mostly quite gentle. Will go harder if you want, but he's very cautious not to hurt you at all. 
-Can easily be top or bottom. Just depends on his partner wants. If you're a top? He'll gladly let you do whatever you want. Bottom? He'll take care of all your needs and desires. Switch? He's happy to flip-flop around until you're happy. 
-Makes you use your words. Rarely does things without you begging for it beforehand. 
-"Come on, darling. You know you have to beg for what you want." 
-Honestly a bit of a teaser. He'll get a big smirk on his face when you just whine to get fucked instead of asking properly. Clicks his tongue and gives a super dramatic shake of his head 
-"Oh, baby doll. That's not how we ask for things. Speak up, love. Loud and clear." 
- Can't deny you for long, though. The moment you beg he's all over you. 
-Big on eye contact. Will turn your face towards him and give you his best puppy dog eyes until your eyes stay on him
-Your pleasure always comes first 
-4 inches soft, 6 inches hard and fat asf (lord have mercy 🙏🙏) 
-Aftercare is just as good as the sex. He'll run a warm bath/shower either you alone or the both of you and carefully wash whatever he can reach while sitting behind you. 
-"You did great, baby. You alright? Not sore, are ya?" "Good, good. My perfect princess/prince." 
-Then when you're both done washing up, you'd better drag your ass back to bed for one (or more) of the following: 
-#1: Cuddles
-#2: Movie/show marathon 
-#3: Round 2 >:) 
My first headcanons done! I'm sure y'all can tell that I'm an Alex girlie but honestly this man is so FINE 😫 how can I not be? I'll def make some SFW and Alex x chubby reader headcanons later, dw.
Let me know who I should do next! 
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bless-my-demons · 7 months
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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-One
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: More angst, but of the wolfy-variety!
Notes: I know I said two chapters before Jasper, but I had to fit this one in which is why I’m posting out of my normal window. Trust the process when it comes to why I did what I did this chapter lol and if you don’t spot it, everything will be fine (famous last words). Honestly I think I’m just healing inner me with how I wish conversations should’ve happened in the movie lol
Word Count: 2401
Series Masterlist
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• March 8th, 2006 • Home •
Reader
Time starts to pass by a little easier with Quil, the quiet isn’t as deafening even when there’s a comfortable silence. I think the same could be said for Quil, since all of his Rez friends have gone AWOL.
Our days are usually spent under blankets on my couch, watching movies and just being present for each other. Plus, there’s not much to do in this tiny ass town anyways.
“Heard anything?” I ask him tentatively, hopefully.
He shakes his head solemnly in response, eyes never leaving the tv. The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk about Jake or Embry twists a new little knife in my gut.
“I’m okay, Y/n/n.” The grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I hate it.
“It’s okay to miss them, I know it’s hard to be stuck with just me now-”
“Don’t.” He reaches over to grab my ankle since I’m facing him on the couch and drags it to his lap, “You’re here and they’re not. I was friends with them longer and they ditched me for other dudes. I’m where I want to be.”
“You don’t have to hold it all in, I’m familiar with that feeling.” I nudge his hand with my socked foot to get him to look at me. “What good am I if I don’t therapize you too?”
“That would insinuate I do anything for you, you won’t talk about him.” His gaze levels on me and I’m caught red handed.
“There’s not much to it, I-I loved him and he’s gone. End of story.” I pick at the loose strings on my blanket, the topic hard for me to meet his eyes.
“There’s everything to it.” He squeezes my foot, “Not end of story, you deserve to vent just as much as I do. You don’t need to feel guilty for grieving him, heartache is a real bitch.”
“Heartache is a bitch, huh?” I huff a laugh as I try to breathe through the tears that want to spring up.
“Y/n, I’m the loneliest guy on the planet. In the male friends department and the girlfriend department, don’t make fun of me.” His lighthearted tone trying and failing to make light of his situation.
“We’re just fucked, aren’t we?” His brown eyes meet mine as we commiserate in our collective sadness.
His head drops back against the back of the couch, “Beyond comprehension, my dear Y/n/n.”
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• March 11th, 2006 • Home •
Reader
My finger hovers over a text to Quil, asking him to come over, when I get a call from my other best friend.
“Bells, hey-”
“I need backup.” Her request draws me up short. “I’m going to the Rez-I need to see Jacob.”
“Bella, he’s with Sam now-”
“I don’t care anymore, you in?” She presses.
“I was in the second you called, I’ll be waiting outside.”
“Good, because I’m almost there.” Hanging up the phone, I grab a jacket and my shoes.
So much for the first day of Spring Break, might as well start it off with a bang.
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•March 11th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•
Reader
Bella slid to a stop in Jacob’s driveway and both of us hopped out, memories of bike-building settling like a weight in my stomach. It wasn’t even that long ago and I miss it, I miss Jacob.
Bella knocks on the glass pane of his front door and Billy Black answers, “Bella?”
“I need to see him.”
“He-,” glancing between us briefly, “he’s not in.” The lie blatantly obvious.
“I’m sorry,” Bella pushes past his wheelchair and inside the house, “I really need to see him.”
I remain awkwardly on the front porch, torn between not wanting to intrude or following my friend.
“Bella!” Billy’s warning is ineffective as she storms to Jacob’s room.
Just when the situation couldn’t possibly get worse, I spot four shirtless figures emerging from the forest by the house, Sam’s group.
I hear the back door open and shut and I just know it’s Bella.
I sprint around the house to catch up to her, “Bella!” But my warning falls on deaf ears, she’s on a warpath for the boys. “Shit.” I mutter under my breath.
Stomping up to the tallest - Sam, “What did you do?” She pushes his chest, hard. “What did you do, huh? What did you do to him?!”
“Hey - watch it!” The other two guys plus Embry shout as they step up around their leader.
“Easy.” The word is more of a growl than anything and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise.
If this comes to a fight, we’re fucked.
“He didn’t want this!” Her desperation pulls at my heart.
“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” The questions from the guy to Sam’s right are rapid-fire, his anger clearly volatile.
“He tells me nothing, because he’s scared of you!”
The same guy barks out a laugh, clearly he finds her concern for Jacob silly.
“Bella, let’s go home-” but my plead immediately goes unheard because she throws a fucking right hook for the guys face, son of a bitch.
“Too late now.” Another guy jokes, clearly enjoying the situation.
“Bella, get back!” Sam orders, trying to diffuse the situation as this guy begins to shake.
I grab her arm and we slowly start to retreat for her truck, too scared to turn and take our eyes off of the angry male.
“Bella…” I whisper, unsure of what to do.
“Paul! Calm down now.” The authority in Sam’s voice rings through the backyard, but it’s too late somehow.
The shaking and heavy breathing from Paul leads to a transformation that snatches my breath from my body - a wolf. And not just any wolf, a wolf from the fucking meadow. A wolf that saved us from Laraunt, now standing before us where Paul was.
Where Paul was.
Paul is a wolf. A really big one at that - a really big angry one.
Anger directed at Bella and by association, me. The death grip I have on her fucking arm has to be painful, but the menacing look in his eyes shocks me to my bones.
Bella moves before I do, using my tight grip on her to yank me into action with her as she makes for Jacob’s house.
“Bella! Y/n!” Jake yells, clearing the back porch railing in one leap, sprinting for us.
“Run! Jake, run!” Bella screams back at him, but he charges towards us anyways.
He jumps last minute before he reaches us and I trip trying to follow his path with my eyes before-
Before he turns into a fucking wolf too.
Jacob Black, our best friend, is a wolf? I mean, vampires are definitely a thing, but wolves?
Squaring off with Paul, both the russet-colored wolf and the silver-grey wolf launch for each other. Snapping and snarling as they roll into the woods, my heart painfully thumps in my chest, Jacob.
“Hey, take the girls back to Emily’s place.” Sam orders Embry and the last remaining male, both of them jogging over to us.
“I guess the wolf’s out of the bag.” They joke, ushering us up and towards Bella’s truck.
They’re wolves, Sam’s gaggle of Rez boys are fucking wolves. Jacob is one of them and so is Embry, what about Quil? Is this why they’ve ditched him, ditched us? Wolves can’t be friends with humans? What do I even tell him, or should I tell him anything?
My mind is racing a million miles an hour in the span of seconds with questions I desperately need answers to.
Embry holds open the passenger side door to Bella’s truck with a smile and I walk right past his invitation to climb in the bed with the newly acquainted Jared.
“Y/n, that’s not safe-”
“I’ll be fine.” I don’t even spare a glance at him with my monotone answer, I’m mad at him for how he’s treating Quil.
Jared raises his eyebrows and quirks a grin. “Feisty, I like it.”
Embry huffs as he shuts the door behind Bella and rounds the truck for the driver’s side, “Don’t encourage her, man.”
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• March 11th, 2006 • Uley Residence •
Reader
“Hey I think we should go back and see if Jacob’s okay.” Bella rolls down her window as the rest of us hop out of her truck.
“I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him, serves him right.” Jared quips to Embry.
“No way! Jacob’s a natural, you see him phase on the fly? I got five that says Paul doesn’t even touch him.” Embry argues, “C’mon in Bella! We won’t bite.”
“Speak for yourself.” Jared jokes and I shove him as we turn to walk inside.
“Oh hey, about Emily - Sam’s fiancé? Don’t stare, it bugs Sam.” Embry warns both of us before following Jared.
“Why would we stare?” Bella asks and I shrug, just as confused.
“You guys hungry? Like I have to ask.” The female in the kitchen asks the boys, laughing at what must be an inside joke. “Who’s this?” She asks after turning around, glancing between us.
“Bella Swan and Y/n Y/l/n.” Jared answers her.
“Hmm… So, you’re the vampire girl-well, girls.” I instantly admire her easy-going vibe, diving straight in to acknowledge the elephant in the room to get it over with.
“So you’re the wolf girl?” Bella asks in return, accepting her olive branch.
“Guess so,” smiling to herself, she picks up the largest platter I’ve ever seen of muffins, “Well, I’m engaged to one.” Snatching both Embry and Jared’s hands as they reach- “Save some for your brothers! And ladies first, muffin?” It’s comical, the way she mothers them.
“Thank you, Emily.” I smile at her and sit across from Jared, the muffin still warm from the oven.
“Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam’s gag order.” Emily scoffs, not surprised.
“Umm, he didn’t… Say anything to us.” Glancing at me, Bella explains.
“That’s a wolf thing, alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want ‘em to or not. Oh and check it out - we can hear each other’s thoughts.” Embry brags and I gape, this is all fucking wild.
“Would you shut up! These are trade secrets - damnit, these chicks run with vampires!” Jared’s frustration is lighthearted as he admonishes Embry for giving away some of their abilities.
“Can’t really run with vampires,” Emily and I chuckle at the boys not quite catching on, “Because they’re fast.”
“Yeah? Well we’re faster. Freaked out yet?”
“You’re not the first monsters we’ve met.”
“Jake’s right, you’re good with weird.” Sam nods at us, beelining for Emily as soon as he steps in the door. He presses kisses to her lips and then all over her face, causing her to giggle. The obvious display of affection carving out my heart just a little bit more - looking away I set my muffin down, no longer hungry.
Pushing and shoving each other, Paul and Jacob finally show - unhurt and brotherly even. They just beat the shit out of each other and they’re tighter than ever? Boys.
“Sorry.” Paul apologizes and flashes what has to be his signature smile at both of us.
I catch Jacob jerking his head towards the door and Bella follows, probably off to explain this whole entire shit show. I turn my gaze to Embry and level a glare on my former friend, waiting for him to say something.
“You going to let me explain? Or are you going to look at me like you’d like to castrate me until Bella gets back?” Embry stares right back, munching on another muffin.
“Jared?” I look at him sweetly and he grins, “take me home?”
Embry stands so quick and his chair teeters dangerously on two legs for a moment. “Y/n.” His tone is hard, done with this game.
“Embry.” I match him back.
He walks out the front door and it drags me from my own chair, this blowout long overdue.
“You know now and you’re still fucking mad at me?” He turns, leaning against Bella’s truck and folding his arms.
“I don’t even know where to start, Embry!” I yell at him exasperated. “You ditched us, you ditched your longest running best friend-”
“I had no choice!”
“He’s struggling-”
“I’m struggling!” His eyes are wild and his hands have a slight shake, “Cutting everyone out has been the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done! I can’t tell anyone, can’t see anyone, can’t do what I want to do anymore! I belong to this Reservation, to this pack, to Sam now. He says jump, I ask how high. He says keep your mouth shut, I cut everyone out. It’s how it has to be.”
“Embry, that’s no way to live.” My heart breaks for his situation.
“It’s in my blood and not something I can opt out of, Y/n/n. Besides, they’re my brothers now and they need me as much as I need them.”
I surge forward to hug him, “I’m still mad at you for Quil.”
“I missed you too.” I hear his grin as I hug him tight. “You can’t tell him though.”
Immediately I retreat, “What?”
“It’s a tribe secret, the pack is sacred and must be protected.”
“He wouldn’t done anything to endanger-”
“It doesn’t matter, anyone on the outside has to stay on the outside. It’s not like I don’t want to, he’s my best fucking friend. But he doesn’t have a need-to-know.”
“Embry-”
“I can’t argue with you about this, please drop it.” His wide eyes plead with me and I surrender.
“Okay, okay. Consider it dropped.” I mime like I’m locking my lips closed and I toss the invisible key over my shoulder.
“Good,” throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leads me back inside, “Now you can hang with the big dogs.”
“Okay I’m going to need you to not make stupid jokes about this situation.” But I laugh anyways, I miss this - him.
I smile to myself, happy to finally have people back in my life that I thought were gone for good. I still feel the massive hole in my chest, but the pain is on the back burner for now.
At least until I’m alone again.
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pretty-toru · 11 months
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Hi! If you're taking requests rn, can I req for a gojo x fem or gn reader scenario where she does the break up prank on him but he surprisingly actually falls for it and the reader then makes up for it (sfw please)
break up prank┆gojo satoru
୧ genre: slight angst to comfort
୧ wc: 1.2k
୧ synopsis: you break up with gojo because he eats too much.
a/n: i don't support these kinds of relationship pranks :( but i tried making this lighthearted as possible so no hearts were broken in the making.
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Satoru's enjoying his lunch across from you during break 一 if you can even call it that considering it's a bunch of sweets and snacks in their wrappers sprawled over the table. While he's filling you in on his morning accompanied by his first year students, cheek overstuffed with strawberry whipped cream sando, you sigh when he finishes his sentence.
"Gojo, we need to talk."
There’s a bitter taste on his tongue now, and Satoru looks at you with his brows furrowed when you call him by his family name which sounds foreign to him. You don't normally address him that way unless he seriously messed up, but everything was perfect and you both were getting along great so he's clueless. Maybe if he pretends by looking around for this Gojo to answer you back and nothing comes up the day can continue its usual pace. "Yeah, so, anyway as Megumi was getting hit on–"
You huff when your words fall on deaf ears, and you are a little more stern and a little louder this time. Your arms crossing over your chest because you don't appreciate being ignored. "Gojo, I just said we need to talk."
He wears a sullen pout but keeps his lighthearted tone. "Angel you're killing me here, you know that's not my name. You always call me Baby or Honey or Toru~" He mimics your cute voice and you bite the inside of your cheek from smiling affectionately, and because you don’t sound even close to anything like that. 
"Yeah, well not for long. We have to break up."
What? His face immediately drops and he seizes his antics. He can't believe you could say that so easily, and he doesn't even know if he heard you right. You are his entire world and he thought he was yours too. Just the other day you were telling him how happy he makes you and how lucky you were to have him, so what the hell happened? Where did he go wrong? He completely trusted that you'd never give up on him and you both were even planning for the future, so it's incredibly baffling to him when you say the most unexpected thing.
Break up...
Break up?
What do you mean by that?
"No chance, that's not happening. What makes you say that, hm?" Satoru has a way of bouncing back that tells you even though he feels hurt and betrayed, he won’t succumb to the voice in his head reminding him he doesn’t deserve you. Because he knows he does, and you deserve him too. "This sounds like crazy talk, that's what it is. I can't believe you would even suggest something like this. Am I even allowed to know the reason?"
You straighten yourself in your seat, and gesture over to the purchased goods to your right. "Well, for one thing–! You eat so many sweets!" When your words reach him, he caught onto your practical joke and relief washes over him. He can't take you seriously anymore especially when you make frowning look so adorable as the castella roll cake, his beloved kikufuku, and an entire souffle cheesecake gets chastised under your gaze. "I've never seen anyone eat their body weight in sweets, and I'm afraid the next morning I'll find my boyfriend has turned into liquified sugar or limbs made of mochi!"
Satoru bursts out into laughter from your ridiculous explanation of wanting to end things, the tension in the room dissipates and the heaviness in his heart follows making him feel infinitely lighter. He doesn't argue or deny his sweet tooth, just slowly nods and drags your seat that’s a short distance away towards him. His strawberry sando is forgotten and you are compliant when he gently pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you and pressing a kiss to the pulse point of your neck. You giggle because it tickles, and your arms loop around his nape with your fingers twirling the ends of his hair. 
"Fine, it's true. I've become a sugar fiend. But is that really something to break up over, sweetheart?" He’s slowly returning back to being playful again, but the way he’s holding you a little closer and tighter means he hasn’t fully recovered from the prank. 
"I mean, it's getting out of control. When we go out for ice cream, you won't share yours and keep taking bites out of mine. Huge ones that leave teeth marks too!" You’re teasing him now and all he can do is chuckle. This is the worst prank anyone has pulled on him, and he should be upset with the person that played it… But he just can’t be upset with you, he could never be upset at you. Just because you did something like that doesn’t mean he still doesn't love you.
"I share everything else with you, and I think I'm more than generous when it comes to spoiling my sweet girl~" Satoru leans in once more to plant quick trailing kisses on your neckline down to your collarbone for all the times he’s stolen a taste from you. When he pulls away slightly, his parted lips were already waiting for yours when you meet him for a tender exchange. Softly melding together with a taste of your tongue and your "I love you" is more than just words to him. It’s a feeling he knows is truly and genuinely still there despite you almost breaking his heart.  
"I hope you know I was just joking, right?" Your noses are touching and you speak in the most gentle tone. He was so sure it was some mischievous stunt, but hearing you confirm it gave him some comfort and ease of mind. "We aren’t breaking up just so we’re clear. I’m sorry for putting you through that, but it was nice knowing you’d want to keep me around. Is there something I can do to make it up to you?"
"Heh, you really messed with my feelings just now, you know that?" Satoru looks faintly distressed, but there’s a simper on his face when he glances down and smooth out the wrinkles on your skirt. "I really thought you didn’t want to be with me anymore. How about if you promise to never do it again… I’ll let you get away with it."
"I promise I won’t do it again." He watches as your hand cover his and you signal him to link your pinkies together. Even if there’s no need for timeless rituals anymore you both still like to engage in small gestures with the utmost seriousness to stay true to your word.
Satoru can’t help but release a breathy laugh. He looks at the sweet connection between your little fingers that brings a certain warmth to his heart like sunlight settling on his skin after a windy surge. His smile broadens as he looks back up at you. "Promise you won’t break my heart by ever leaving me?"
You hum contently and smooch his cheek as you recite the promise back to him. "I promise I won’t break your poor heart. Wouldn't even dream of it."
"I'm glad you are not going anywhere. Then I promise you the same thing~" He intertwines your hands together and brings it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "I love you so much. Don't forget that Angel."
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Cherry Blossom Walks 🌸 Nakahara Chūya x Reader
Pairing: Nakahara Chūya x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 2 360 Warnings: mentions of death + illness + poverty Summary: Chūya takes you on a date but things don’t quite go as he expected
Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist
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All of a sudden, Chūya wasn’t so sure anymore, whether it had been a good idea to bring you to this park. Two years, that’s how long he had waited for the perfect time to ask you out, you a member of the armed detective agency. Two years in which he had scraped together his courage again and again to talk to you, only to always be interrupted by this idiot of a bean stalk called Dazai. But finally had done it, asked you to accompany him on a nice walk in the park to watch the cherry blossom together.
Chūya had been fairly certain he had made himself clear enough so that you would understand he had a romantic interest in you, but still he had been uncertain about how you would interpret the situation. Just to be sure, he had brough you a small bouquet of flowers when you had met up in front of the closest train station.
Now you were holding the flowers in your arm, a mix of whites, pastel pinks and light greens; a perfectly romantic, not too heavy, lighthearted spring bouquet. Your other arm was linked with his, rather formally he noticed, and not at all as close as he would have liked, making him question everything he had said and done in the past twenty minutes since you had met up.
You had seemed to be so happy about the flowers, had taken his arm so casually when he had offered it to you, had laughed so unashamedly at his dry sarcasm. But ever since you had first stepped through the gates of the park, you had stiffened up. Did you not like the park? He was sure he had told you where he intended to take you for your date. Had something happened here, and coming back made dark memories resurface? Did you not like the flowerbeds, filled to the brim with all the colours of the spring? Were you allergic to the cherry blossom that was in full bloom over your heads?
Just as you had reached a point, from where the water of the bay below reflected the already low sun beams in orange and golden sparks, and glittered through the pink petals of the Sakura trees, you suddenly stopped walking. Chūya, who had been about to suggest sitting down on a bench, got startled out of his thoughts. Confused at your sudden halt, he finally fully turned his head to take in your expression, which he had avoided doing in the past minutes, only glancing at you from the corner of his eyes until then. Shock raced through his body when he saw tears swimming in your eyes.
“What’s wrong,” he asked so quickly that he stumbled over his own words, not even caring about the way his voice hitched. Quickly he pulled away from you, placing his hands at your shoulders instead and chasing your gaze as you closed your eyes and turned your face away from him. “What’s wrong, talk to me, please.”
“Can we sit down for a moment,” you asked instead of answering him.
Your voice was quiet, but Chūya quickly nodded his head, gently but firmly guiding you to the closest bench. Warm afternoon sunlight flickered through the branches of the trees above you, making your skin glow beautifully. A tear ran down your cheek, catching the sunlight and glittering like a diamond.
Chūya’s heart broke at the sight of that tear; he was sure the crack had to be loud enough for you to hear.
What had happened?
Why where you crying?
Had he done something wrong? You had wanted to sit down, maybe your shoes were hurting your feet? No, he thought after a quick glance down, you were wearing sneakers. Unlikely that they would hurt your feet enough for you to cry. Maybe you had a stomach-ache, or cramps. Or a headache. Or all of that at once? Or had he had done something wrong? Said something wrong? Had you expected him to-
Before his thoughts could spiral further out of control, you suddenly spoke up.
“Do you even know how beautiful this park is?”
The question caught him off guard. He had expected a lot, had hoped you would address the cause of your distress, but you wanted to talk about the park? Alright, he would indulge you.
“I mean, it’s a beautiful park,” he shrugged, his eyes wandering over the plants and small pathways before you. “I like the colours and the way the sunlight reflects in the harbour.”
“I never could have imagined something so beautiful to exist in the world.”
Chūya blinked. Was that why you were crying? Because you thought this place was beautiful?
“How long have we known each other, Chūya? Two years?”
“Two years, three months and about one week,” he mumbled, although he wasn’t sure you had actually meant it as a question.
“Did you keep track?” The amusement in your voice lessened some of his anxiety.
“Of course not.”
Of course he had. Two years, three months and one week since he had first met you, since he had watched you burst into a semi-serious fight with Dazai and continue to scold Dazai for just running off and apologizing to Chūya for any inconveniences Dazai might have caused. At that point you obviously hadn’t known about Dazai’s and Chūya’s intertwined past, but Chūya had immediately known that no matter what anyone else thought, you had to be the closest thing to an angel that existed in this twisted and cruel world, and he would do everything to make sure you were taken care of and looked after.
How many times had he sent out someone to make sure you were kept away from the most dangerous fights? How many times had he threatened a very amused and smug Dazai to protect you and make sure you got home safe? More times than he could remember. But it had paid off: you were here with him now. Only that you were crying, and he still wasn’t quite sure why.
“So two years, three months and one week,” you repeated. “How much do you know about my past?”
Chūya blinked again, turning back to you. Your eyes were open now, looking past the stems of the trees and staring into the sparkles of sunlight on the water of the bay in the distance.
“What does the past matter,” he asked. “The present is all that counts.”
“But the present is built on the past,” you disagreed.
Chūya bit his lip. The reason for your sudden change in emotions lay in your past?
“I know that you joined the ADA when you were seventeen,” he slowly spoke. “Edogawa-san was the one to recruit you.”
“And before that?”
Chūya felt like he was being quizzed in a classroom in front of the entire class. And hadn’t studied.
“I know you were living on the street for a while, but-”
“I grew up in the slum of Suribachi City.”
Your sudden interruption made him shut up. The slum? He hadn’t known that, and honestly, he had trouble imagining you down there, with the scum of society.
“You know Suribachi City, don’t you?”
Chūya nodded. He had spent enough time there, between the corrugated iron huts and carton shelters.
“The slum is the deepest part of the City. Down there, the smog is so thick, you can barely see the next corner of the street. Rats and other pest live between humans like their pets, and the sheds stand so close that sunlight barely reaches down there.”
Chūya had only been to the slum of Suribachi City once. Back then it had been only out of curiosity, but that had quickly been satisfied when the stench in the air had made it hard to breath. The hems of his trousers had been stained with mud and other unidentifiable liquids, which he never got to wash out properly and he had ended up throwing that pair of trousers away. Back then, he had only seen a couple of criminals lingering in the shadows between barracks, but the thought that children might be living down there had never crossed his mind.
“My parents ended up down there – I don’t know how – and had me. I was born on the coldest day of the year and my mother always said that’s the reason why I ended up surviving the rest of the winter. We barely had anything when I was little. We were living so far down that even the concept of sunlight was reduced to a faint shimmer within the fog.” You closed your eyes and tilted your chin up, letting warm sunbeams brush over your cheeks. “Most days we didn’t have any food. I can count the days, in which I went to bed with a full stomach on one hand. My parents… they were the best parents anyone could wish for. They both worked hard, and still made sure to spend time with me. There was never a moment where I needed them, or wanted their attention, in which they weren’t there for me.”
Your voice had grown rough over the past sentences, and Chūya reached out a hand, wrapping his fingers around yours. They were so cool that he could feel it even through his gloves.
“The first time I saw the sun without the smog of the slum… I must have been six or seven years old. The first time I saw a flower, I was twelve, the first time I saw a tree… fifteen. That was after my parents had died.”
“How did they die,” Chūya asked, realizing too late that his blunt question might upset you. In his head he was already plotting to bring justice to whoever had taken their lives.
“It was the autumn of that bad flu outbreak,” you answered. “All three of us had it. First dad, then mum and then me. We all got sick within a week, and two weeks later they were dead. I could barely move, but I made it out into the street, trying to find help. That’s how Ranpo-san found me. He brought me to Yokohama to a hospital, got me a job at the café, got me a private tutor to teach me how to read and write, and eventually convinced Fukuzawa-san to employ me at the Agency.”
“I didn’t know…” Chūya gently tightened his gloved fingers around yours, relieved when you returned the soft squeeze.
“Other than Ranpo and Fukuzawa, hardly anybody knows,” you shrugged. “Dazai probably figured most of it out, but only the broad timeframe. The others… they don’t pry. And I like it better that way.”
“Then I have to thank you double for trusting me with your story,” Chūya said, slowly lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a small kiss to your knuckles.
When he looked up and found you were watching him, his breath hitched in his throat and quickly he lowered your hands again.
“I’m just sorry for making things awkward,” you sighed, holding a little tighter to Chūya’s hand, when you felt him trying to let go. His fingers immediately wrapped back around yours. “It’s just… I spent so long living without proper sunlight, no knowing what trees looked like, how songbirds sound or how roses smell, that sometimes… it’s all a little overwhelming.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Chūya shook his head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. And you didn’t make things awkward. I was just worried I had done something to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” you reassured him. “Quite the opposite really.” You took a deep breath. “I know you waited for a long time to go out with me, and now all I’m doing is crying because everything’s so beautiful here. That must be quite disappointing.”
Chūya chuckled. “Don’t worry your pretty head about that. You’re beautiful even when you cry.” Admittedly, he had seen you ugly-cry before during a shared mission, and even when your eyes had been swollen from crying, he had never felt anything other than affection for you, and the urge to sooth those sobs that had left your split lip. Now your lips were smooth and so soft looking. The thought that he wanted to know what they tasted like crossed his mind. He quickly shooed it away. Not the right time. “But if you want to cry some more, I have tissues.”
“You’re an awful man,” you gasped in mock offence, before scooting closer to his side and resting your head against his shoulder. It was warm and heavy against him, and he carefully turned his head to press a kiss against your hair.
“Do you want to stay here,” he asked after a while. You had started playing with his fingers, your cool fingertips exploring the leather of his gloves absentmindedly as you looked out into the park opening before you.
“As nice as it is,” you sighed, “we should get up. We’ve been occupying this bench for long enough.”
You were attempting to pull away, but Chūya held tighter onto you. “If you don’t want to get up, we don’t have to. There are enough empty benches all around. If people want to sit, they can do it on another bench.”
“Even though we have the best view?”
“Well, if they want this view, they’ll just have to wait,” Chūya decided, hiding his smile against your hair as you relaxed back against him. You had not seen proper parks for the first fifteen years of your life, you deserved to enjoy the most beautiful views for as long as you wanted, and he would make sure you got all the time you needed.
As pink cherry blossom petles drifted through the air, catching the sunlight which made them seem to glow from within, and your breath evened out as you slowly fell asleep against Chūya’s shoulder, your hand still in his, the flowers he had brought you on the bench next to you, Chūya was sure, it had been the perfectly right decision to bring you to the park for your first date. 
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Title board created by the wonderful @mochie85!
Lesson Fourteen
Loki continues to try and keep you apart, thinking your feelings have only hindered your chances at freedom. As Thor attempts to get to the bottom of the rift between you, you find the emotional turmoil is having an odd effect on your magic...
**MASTERLIST HERE** Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count
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“Do you not have some tonic for the old man?” asked Thor, looking a little panicked as Katja calmed Ivar after another coughing spasming incapacitated him, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed he’d just finished making up for the God of Thunder. 
Katja shrugged. “By the time I fetch it, it usually passes.” 
Ivar nodded wordlessly, his heaving breaths the only noise coming from him.
Loki stood in the corner of the room, learning against the wall with his ankles crossed, a casual pose clashing against his demeanor, which was uncomfortable at best and radiated bitterness. Thor looked back at him, frowned, and nodded to Ivar. 
“I thank you for the hospitality,” Thor responded, “I may not be your Prince anymore, but I assure you that I will seek a way to repay you both for the kindness.”
“Then we will leave you now,” Katja said, bidding them a brief goodnight before helping Ivar to his feet. It took him several moments just to leave the room. 
Loki sighed with concern for the elderly Asgardian. Perhaps he isn’t long for this world--
“--Loki,” Thor said sternly as soon as the door was closed, “What is going on?”
He shrugged and lightened his volume in a sad attempt to sound ignorant. “I don't know what you’re talking about.” 
“Is there something more than just attacks going on here?” his brother asked. “I may not be as sharp with the ability to notice details as you are, but I felt much tension between you and Y/N today downstairs.” 
“Tension!” Loki spat, scoffing and pushing off the wall, pacing in front of the bed. “You’re absolutely wrong, you know.”
Shaking his head with a smile. “Oh, brother dear, you’re so deeply in love I think it’s even missed your sensibilities! Every time she made noises in the kitchen, you perked your head up like an hound scenting his prey! She looked like she wanted to sit in your lap all afternoon! And…by Norns…looking at you now…you’ve made love to her, too…”
He teasingly winked and added after a pause: “Good for you!”
Loki gritted his teeth and turned to the wall. “I thought I was just keeping her close,” he finally began to defend himself. “So that she’d feel comfortable with me.”
Thor cocked his head to the side. “Most people can do that without sex!” But he stopped his lighthearted teasing when he saw how it was affecting Loki. “But it did more to your heart than hers?”
Loki shook his head. “I think Freyja has whispered in both of our ears. The only difference is that Y/N had the courage to confess it.” 
Thor’s eyes widened. “You haven’t told her how you feel?”
“Well, look at everything going on around us!” Loki suddenly barked, breaking the dam at last and letting all of his words spill into the room at once. “A monstrous group of fanatic sheep are trying to complete the genocide of our people, with only a bitchy she-king, an untrained death mage, and a former aid to that very genocide--” 
“--stop it--”
“--constantly threatening us from our own doorstep! Meanwhile, the Fury is breathing down our backs with execution if we fail to not only quell the threat but fail to bring our reaper friend into line, which, in my mind--which happens to be VERY sharp!--somewhat contradicts the order of defending the village, doesn’t it? All while I can’t stand to tear my eyes from her when she isn’t looking back at me! She depends on me for guidance, and my Norns her hair shines in the sun like a mirror, every word she speaks is for my benefit, and it sickens me to think how beneath me I am, and how little she suspects that the only reason that this village and it’s people are no longer living in luxury on Asgard is--”
“--Loki!” Thor put a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder to stop his pacing and venomous train of thought. His naturally-strong grip nearly bruised Loki’s shoulder. “I’ve told you already, it was determined by the Uhn that you were not ultimately at fault!”
“By the what?” Loki asked quietly. 
“Huh?”
“You said ‘by the Uhn’?”
“The council in New York? The big building with the flags where they formally gave you clemency?”
Loki couldn’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes. “The U-N. United Nations, brother.”
Thor smiled and laughed at his own silliness. “Now there’s the Loki I remember before it all.” 
“Before it all began…” Loki repeated, summoning memories before Thor was tempted to attack Jotunheim many years ago. “...the careless days of our youth are over.”
The God of Thunder nodded in agreement. “Doesn’t mean adventures still don't await us. They just take a different shape!”
“Such as?” 
Thor shrugged. “Well, once I go back to New York, I was thinking of going off into space for a bit. There’s a group of travelers who have one human among them. I’m not sure how effective they are at guarding galaxies, but the human man wants more muscle on his team. They were at S.H.I.E.L.D. recently reporting some minor threat that turned out to simply be the man hallucinating on the Asgardian mead I gave him. I sometimes forget that Midgardian livers can’t stand up to our liquors!” 
Loki sank onto the bed. “You’re leaving?”
Thor sat beside him. “You sound like a child being sent to boarding school. It’s an adventure! I’ll always come back.” 
The trickster twisted his lip. “I suppose you are about to say that Y/N is my next adventure?” 
Thor rolled his eyes. “I’m not entirely made of cliches, brother! But…yes.”
His little brother was quiet for a moment. “Very well. I’ll speak to her and clear the air.” 
The blonde was dissatisfied with the brief, cold answer, but he chose to accept it. “Good, now let’s both get some rest. We have a lot of work ahead of us once you both choose to see reason.”
“And what is ‘reason’ in this case, Thor?” Loki asked as he got up from the bed, headed to the doorway, and stood in the threshold another second. “Falling for someone who can end your life if she blinks at you with malice?” 
He shook his head as he laid himself partially supine on the bed, kicking up his feet (boots still on) and folding his arms behind his head as he leaned against the pillows. “I bet it adds to the thrills in the bedroom!” he jested with a wink.
The younger Prince sighed. “Thor, you’re a muscle-bound lout with a heart of gold and a brain of gruel. You fit more cliches than a romance novel.” 
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“Brunnhilde! I need help!” you moaned, walking into her training gym the following morning, so early that she herself was barely awake and ready to warm up. 
“What is it?” she replied with a groan of equal negativity. “I’m hungover.”
“When are you not hungover? Come on!” you said, exasperated, running up to her and grabbing her wrist with such strength even the strong Asgardian was yanked along with you. 
Your heart was pounding painfully against your ribs in panic as you led the King to a vine growing along a trellis against the wall of her cabin. “Look!” You tried summoning your power, but nothing was forming. Desperately, you began attempting to find the energy inside to make your morbid mist reveal itself. You pushed, pulled, and cried out, but it was no use. Gripping the vine so tightly you nearly ripped the stem, and nothing was happening to the vine. “I can’t kill it! I can’t!” 
Brunnhilde shrugged, looking annoyed but also amused at your distress. “Isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do the whole time? To suppress it?”
You heard Loki’s rich, smooth voice in your mind, repeating the things he’d said about embracing who you were, including your powers. 
“No,” you said, a realization finally hitting you after months of practice and meditation: your gifts were bound to every cell of your body. You were feeling lost, alone, and heartbroken. Perhaps it was like falling sick. Until whatever was happening between you was solved, it seemed that your magic was suppressed.
“I know what this is,” you added. “I need to speak to Loki--”
“--I’m listening.” 
You looked, stunned, at Brunnhilde, whose voice changed drastically. A moment later, her form began to dissolve into Loki’s with green mist. “Her Worship is attending to matters down by the docks. I didn’t think you’d care to seek me out so quickly, but I know you have lessons with her this morning.” 
You scoffed. “So quickly? It’s been four whole days since the funeral,” you said sharply. “You don’t think I’ve been waiting for you to come for me all this time?!”
Loki looked offended. “And you don't think I’ve been off attempting to make sense of all of this?”
“A good teacher would’ve told his student if he was planning to mess with her heart, Loki,” you said firmly. Suddenly, you felt your cheeks go hot and the first of the tears fall, so you quickly pivoted on your toes and made a break for the door. You knew you had to get out of there before you became any more vulnerable in front of him. 
How dare he? How DARE he trick you so? 
“Y/N! Please wait!” he called behind you, but you were much faster, at least in the moment. You were able to put a little distance between you by running up through the village and ducking behind a small shack. 
As you held your hand to your chest, as if doing so could still your heart, you hyperventilated and began to blink down more tears, which seared the side of your face, leaving hot trails of emotion running down your cheeks. Your embarrassment at how you were seconds away from pouring your heart out, along with being startled by Loki’s trick
Loki was calling from further down the path, but another noise found its way to your ear first. It was the sound of sobbing, much higher and softer than yours, and it made you instantly still yourself in order to hear it with more clarity. 
A child was sitting in an upright fetal position at the other end of the wall you leaned against, a young boy, sobbing into his knees. He took a minute to realize you were there. You knew Asgardians aged at a different rate than humans, but in Midgardian years, this child was easily no more than six. 
“Are you okay?” you asked stupidly, realizing that if the kid was crying, clearly he wasn’t well. 
He looked sadly and pointed down at his feet, where you finally noticed the corpse of a rather large cat, fluffy with brown and gray fur, an animal clearly built for the outdoors, or was before he died just now. 
“That’s your cat?”
The boy nodded quietly. “Juni died.”
“I can see that. Was she sick?”
He shrugged bashfully. “She was..was…my best friend.”
Your entire heart went out to him at that moment. He clearly hadn’t braced himself for this moment, and a child of six shouldn’t have had to mourn the loss of his best friend alone. 
I wish there was something I could do, you thought as you kneeled down in front of the boy, getting a better look at the dead cat. She looked much like one you knew from home. 
Push!
A new voice commanded something in your ear, startling you and making you fall backwards onto the dirt. 
The boy looked up again, this time confused and curious. 
You looked again at the dead cat. 
PUSH! 
You had no idea who the voice was, but you were beginning to feel the energy under you from those buried under the soil throbbing as it pulsed up your legs and radiated around your body. The dead were encouraging you to act again, just as they had on the roof last week. 
You brought your hands together and placed them on the cat’s head. Snapping your eyelids shut tightly, you began to hear the voices grow to a shout. 
PUSH! GIVE YOURSELF! HARDER!
Obeying the voices, you concentrated on forcing all of your energy into your palms, as if preparing to inject life into the animal. The boy curled up onto his ankles to watch.
Your body went hot, pain shot up your skin like bolts of lightning, but thin as hypodermic needles. You screeched in agony as you trembled so violently that the boy, frightened, got to his feet and backed away several feet. 
You could no longer see, darkness was all before you, but the electric heat finally wriggled free of your palm, and you felt a light so hot and a pulse so heavy hit you like a bomb, throwing you onto your back, all but unconscious. 
“Juni!” cried the boy, his voice gleeful, indicating your success. 
Suddenly, a wave of drunkenness fell over you. You couldn’t see anything but moving shapes and colors. Your sense of balance and strength was gone, and you’d developed an instant fever, causing the sweat to replace the trails on your face where tears had been moments ago.  It was all you could do to begin to crawl away and try to find an adult before you passed out entirely. 
You were able to make out a large pair of familiar black boots running toward you, and another voice (this time from above ground) calling out to you, distressed. “Y’N! Love! Y/N!”
You couldn’t make sense of English. Instead, you felt the vague sensation of being thrown over a hard, strong shoulder and carried away. 
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What felt like hours later, but was only about fifteen minutes, your brain began to recalibrate, and you found yourself lying on your back on the sofa back in the basement, just as Loki was pulling a blanket up to your chin, despite the late-spring warmth leaking in through the open window. 
Thor came bounding in just as you blinked your eyes back into full focus. His was loud and brash, and Loki had to nearly check him back into the stairwell in order to stabilize him. “Too much,” he whispered, and Thor nodded gently, quickly calming down. 
“I saw you carrying her!” he said. 
“All is well, go back to chucking hammers with Her Worship,” Loki said quickly, putting up a defensive hand. “She needs quiet…and we have much to discuss once she wakes.”
“Alright then,” Thor replied, hanging his head and turning to go again. 
Once Thor went back up the stairs and closed the door behind him, Loki turned back and knelt beside the sofa again as you stirred. “She’s already awake,” you said. 
“I knew it, naturally. That’s why I got rid of Thor,” Loki answered, smiling gently and running a palm over your forehead, hot and damp with fever. “How are you feeling?”
You groaned lowly.  Your head roared. “Like shit. Did you see--?”
Loki nodded. “Yes, and I was astounded. You never fail to amaze me.”
You shook your head. “Now, that’s a lie.”
He bit his lip awkwardly. “Maybe we should wait until you have some tea to discuss this.”
“No, I want to discuss it now,” you insisted, beginning to maneuver yourself into a sitting position. Loki aided you after you began struggling, much to your chagrin. Once you were propped against your pillows, you sighed. “I feel so heavy,” you added.
“You resurrected a creature more than four times the size of a field mouse,” your teacher informed you. “I’m surprised you are conscious.” 
“They told me to,” you said softly. 
“They?”
“The dead, the buried,” you said. “I know it makes me sound like a head case, Loki, but they told me to push and revive the cat.” 
He nodded, taking a moment to absorb the new piece of information. “Now, we’re getting somewhere,” he whispered. 
“What?”
He shook his head. “Perhaps we can talk about that later. For now, I was thinking we were going to sort out something else.”
Nodding, you frowned. “I’m not going to pretend what we’re doing isn’t incredibly dumb,” you said. “But so is going up against S.H.I.E.L.D. Loki, we need each other. Surely you feel that?”
You felt a wave of satisfaction soothe your headache as he nodded in the affirmative. “So what holds you back? Your past?”
Loki barely whispered, his natural baritone going even lower, “Yes.”
Rolling your eyes, you pulled an arm out from under the covers, laying it gently on his cheek. “None of it matters here with me. You know that.” 
“But it isn’t just that,” he added. “Do you know how many times I’ve escaped and run away from death?”
“I’ve heard tales of you evading the Grim Reaper,” you answered. 
“Well, try finding love in your primary enemy’s body,” he said. “Magic reacts not only within oneself, but to other magics around it. I’ve spent my entire life running, tricking, escaping the inevitable, that it’s like attempting to bring two magnets together at the same pole,” he explained. “To love you is not possible, and yet here I am…”
“So, it’s a case of your heart saying yes, but your body saying no,” you stated as you ran a thumb briefly over Loki’s lip. He swiftly scooped your hand into his and raised your knuckles to his lips. The small-yet-sweeping gesture made your heart flutter. 
He smiled. “Yes. That is what is causing my aversion. You’re very intuitive.” 
“And how do we quell it so we can be together?” you asked. 
Loki stifled another sad sigh. “I’m afraid it can’t--” 
“--Y/N?” a steady-yet-soft voice called from the door, which you hadn’t noticed had been opened. It was Katja. She looked pale and sorrowful, but didn’t step further into the basement, as if time was of the essence.
“What is it?” you asked, perking up at her presence. 
“It’s Ivar,” she said sadly. 
Loki’s shoulders dropped. “What is it?”
“It’s…it’s his time, but he lingers,” Katja informed you quickly. “He’s asked for you, Y/N.” 
“Me? Why me?” you asked, confused and instantly hit with another wall of sadness at the news. 
Clearly, Loki had put two-and-two together instantly. “May we have just a moment?” Katja gave Loki a nod and went back upstairs without answering you. 
Loki squeezed your hand, looking like a stoic face attempting to mask oncoming bad news. 
Your questions got more frantic, more anxious as you threw off the blanket and set your feet on the floor, the quick movement sending your brain into a fuzz. Loki firmly put a hand on your shoulder and pushed back, so that at the very least you were lying against the back of the sofa. 
“You won’t be going anywhere until you can handle yourself,” he said sternly, Professor Loki appearing for the first time in a while, making other parts of your body begin to flutter in sync with your racing heart. 
“But What did she mean? Ivar is dying? He wants to say goodbye?”
He looked at you with tender, protective concern, as well as regret at his new task of informing you of your assignment: “I believe he is asking for your services, my dear.” 
“My services? What services?”
Then it hit you. 
“No.”
“He needs it.” 
“No!”
“Y/N, he is languishing!” 
“NO! LOKI, DON’T MAKE ME DO IT! PLEASE!!” You shrieked, covering your face with your hands. The instability of your emotional state had brought back your magic, and it was thickly rotating around your hands and arms. Of all the times and ways for it to return! Now there’s no excuse…
Loki fell onto the sofa beside you, scooping you against his chest, rocking you gently back and forth and running fingers through your hair as you repeatedly chanted “No! I won’t kill him! No!” knowing perfectly well that no matter how hard you protested, you would be upstairs in moments, making your first house call, bringing Ivar to his permanent rest. 
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I'm back! Thank you for being patient with me while I was on my hiatus. I was going to wait until August 1st, but I got engaged yesterday so I'm in a jolly mood and decided to pass on the celebration to you!
Please comment and reblog if you like!
@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl @loz-3 @mjsthrillernp @alexakeyloveloki @linaax @noideakitten @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14 @itzcomplctd7 @praq123 @the-fantasy-loving-angel @alexakeyloveloki @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @admiralatthebowofnails @vanilla-daydreaming @technicallysassyfox @ozymdias @fall-myriad @sititran @lokisdeadcat @blog-the-lilly @satrkovaza
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some of the less pretty parts of plurality
we talk a lot on this blog about the funny or nice parts of being plural, but there's also a lot of bad shit that can come with it. it's not all good, just like it's not all bad. it just is! sometimes, seeing posts like this makes us feel a little better, knowing we aren't alone in these struggles and seeing other people who have come through it, so, here's this
this is going to require a lot of me being vulnerable on the internet lmao
everything is going under a cut, and i'm marking applicable TW and CWs here as well as in the tags. i tried to keep it as light as possible (if there's any tags i missed, PLEASE do let me know and i'll add them ASAP /gen)
(this is also quite a long post, under the cut the word count is: 437)
WARNINGS: addiction mentions, physical illness, exotrauma mentions
-) developing an addiction/dependency that everyone has to manage, due to one headmate's actions
-) trying to collectively recover from addiction when not everyone wants to, and some headmates actively working against the progress and goals
-) more specifically, having to maintain a clean streak for everyone, not just one individual. not just yourself. we have an agreement- we stick together with this stuff
-) headmates who actively dislike people we know, and generally collectively like, and having to manage and ignore secondhand emotions towards those people when the headmates in question are around (not to say, ignoring how those headmates feel about people, but moreso not letting the emotions bleed through into our own interactions)
-) panicking because your job directly relates to helping other headmates, and despite your best efforts, things keep getting worse (not directly applicable to me who is writing this -host)
-) having to agree with headmates, who have done nothing wrong, that they can't be around front, because they're symptom holders, and the body is ill enough all the time that we physically can't handle them fronting
-) fighting. constant fighting. i can't think of a day since our syscovery that there hasn't been some sort of fight, argument, breakdown, violence, some sort of incident internally
-) so many headmates with so much exotrauma. some of their triggers have bled into our collective triggers, and holy shit is it hard to explain thost to people who don't understand exomemories, or even who don't know about the system
-) having to watch littles who are far too young for any of this experience this whole ordeal
-) "Atlantis" by Seafret. it's about an extremely different topic, but the lyrics hit home. "i can't save us, my atlantis, we fall. we built this town on shaky ground." because holy fuck, it feels that way sometimes
several of these things are now managed, several are not. being human is a weird, messy, fucked up experience, and when you shove a bunch of consciousnesses into one human body, it gets even more convoluted
whoever you are, whatever reason you might have for reading this: i love you. you are not alone in your struggles. you have support from so many places, and you will get through whatever you're currently experiencing, be it so simple as your favourite pencil breaking, all the way to personal tragedy. you are loved
-the host (he/they), expressing thoughts of the collective
(scheduling this to post outside of the queue because our content is usually much more lighthearted than this and i don't want to take up a spot for that)
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intheticklecloset · 5 months
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Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Bungo Stray Dogs) Headcanons
I honestly can't decide if Fyodor is more of a lee or ler, because he carries huge qualities to be both, so I'm going to play devil's advocate and say he's a switch!
As a lee, Fyodor is extremely susceptible to light tickles - gentle tracing, teasing pokes, light scribbles, etc. It makes him react much more viscerally than if he were being tickled roughly. It makes him react cutely too (if you think he's cute lol), in that he'll giggle and squirm and blush and all that fun goodness.
He kind of enjoys being tickled, to an extent. I feel like overall it wouldn't be something he LOVES, per se, but he can definitely enjoy and appreciate it from time to time, especially if it's done playfully instead of maliciously.
He also falls prey to being teased as long as it's done right. Again, if it's playful and lighthearted, it will work wonders on him. Baby talk or mean/mocking teasing? Total opposite effect - will make him angry and want it all to come to a halt right there.
As a ler...well, we know the man, don't we? Absolutely ruthless, shows no mercy, takes no prisoners, will tickle his lee until they're begging for their life. Unfairly good at finding his lee's worst spots and focusing on them, making them desperate to escape.
Also STUPIDLY GOOD at anticipation! Hovering wiggling fingers, lightly tracing most ticklish spots, etc. The man is a menace!
And teasing? Don't even get him started - he's a master at everything he does, including turning his lee into a puddle of goo just by cooing at them. In general Fyodor loves making his lees submit to him by tickling them to near death.
Fyodor partakes in aftercare, but again, to an extent. When he's the lee he doesn't mind light cuddling afterward, but go into nurse mode and it will ruin the experience for him. As a ler, he doesn't necessarily aim to take care of his lee too much; he might offer a glass of water or a "good job," but that's about it.
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cupid-tune · 1 year
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Hello, I really want your opinion about the rejection of Beforius, and how he influenced society. We learned from Openbound that the high-bloods take care of the low-bloods. And many have the theory that the Highbloods basically cull other trolls when they have a disability, or a mutation that makes them unable to live on their own, and take on the responsibility of caring for them. Pretty good idea if it didn't have a lot of downsides. What do you think, could Kankri be "rejected" on the beforius, what influenced his character in the future:? or he also initially concealed his blood color, and only during the session he stopped concealing it:? If you think about it, then Rufio is also a kind of mutant, but when he grew up, for some reason he hid in the forest, away from settlements, like cities, as if afraid of someone:?
Apologies in advance for the disturbance :ззззз
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW HAPPY THIS QUESTION MADE ME
I've been thinking about this just recently!! I enjoy looking for content that tries to fill the gaps in between the experience of Beforus, whether it be dialogue or fan stuff. It upsets me that we weren't given too much insight into things, but the fun part is making do with what we have. This post is mainly focusing on mutants on Beforus, but I think this could apply to lowbloods and trolls with disabilities just as much.
Long post ahead!
A lot of what I could gather about the culling on Beforus was from Kankri's dialogue, which peaked my interest the most reading through it. In any other instance, I would take his remarks in the intended humorous manner, but if we really want to dive into this, taking what he says more seriously is a big help.
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Kankri describes the problems of Beforus as more underlying and insidious, which makes perfect sense with everything else we have. Feferi was the ruler on Beforus, and as such, was likely a kind ruler with a much more peaceful system in place. The problem is, utopia can't really be achieved, no matter how hard you try. What we're seeing is a flawed system, with trolls who, despite their peaceful way of life, still behave similarly to that on Alternia. You're going to have bad people with bad intentions, and they will most certainly take advantage of the system in place because it's so easy to do.
The theory that highbloods will cull lowbloods and mutants the same amount that it happens on Alternia sounds about right, even if their version of culling is near opposite. Mutants are pitied in such a society, and will be treated like fragile beings who are in need of help. Beforus and Alternia are both bad on opposite sides of the spectrum. One cares too much, the other cares too little. I think a good comparison for this would be the foster care system and how much corruption lies within it. Though, I'd rather not dive into serious real life matters like that while trying to talk about fictional trolls, so it's just good to keep in mind for future reference. Highbloods can take in mutants to care for them, and that seems to be about the extent of context we get. We could go different ways about this and guess whether or not their treatment of these mutants is monitored, or they are left to their own accord and simply trusted.
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Coddling seems to be a big deal for Kankri, as one of the only times we see him flaring up in defense is when Porrim shows him coddling-like affection. This could be taken as pale or motherly, but either way, it's upsetting for him. Again, this is probably written to be lighthearted and entertaining, but seeing as this is the only time we see Kankri aggressive, I consider it a trigger of his. Touching, in general, I think is another trigger of Kankri's, which might also come from his culled upbringing.
Kankri pulls away from Porrim a lot, seeing as he directly insults the sweater she gave him but continues to wear it regardless. There is sentiment there, but Kankri shows conflicted behavior. Another alternative could just be that Porrim forces him to wear the sweater, since...Yeah, that pant line. It's understandable. When it comes to Kankri and his relationship with his blood color, the sweater could represent his pride and will to show off his blood now that he's no longer on Beforus. Kankri might've hid his color back then, or was encouraged to wear more neutral colors by his culler like Karkat does.
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Further into the coddling nature, Kankri rejects any kind of form of endearment, since his view of it is that it feels belittling and condescending. I think this idea comes from the fact that he experienced similar treatment from whoever was taking care of him on Beforus, which he had grown to dislike either back then or came to realize during the game. He's even willing to take insults if it means not using "wiggler nicknames," which further shows just how much he dislikes this treatment.
Analysis out of the way, the theories of culling on Beforus can go many different directions. Kankri was culled on Beforus, yes. He didn't hide away like Karkat, he wasn't able to in his circumstances. As such, he was raised by a troll, a highblood most likely, who treated him as though he were a prized possession. Kankri could've been pampered and spoiled, which may explain his entitled behavior, but this kind of treatment comes with a lot of downsides. His culler may have been too protective of him, not letting him socialize normally like other trolls and keeping him isolated, or instilling this idea that he needed to be watched over, that he wasn't capable of living a life on his own because of his mutation. This could've been a common practice for many cullers, manipulation and conditioning in order to keep their culled troll under control. Of course, this is a darker way of looking at things, but realistically, this is a very likely reality for many mutants on Beforus. Like I said before, the nature of trolls are a constant, and that means bad people willing to take advantage of a bad system. The only reason I'm willing to take this route is because of how defensive Kankri gets about being treated like a wiggler, and why he strives to know more than others and stand above them. His upbringing shaped who he is now, and one could think that when those kids finally entered the session, Kankri was a free troll.
With Rufioh, he probably had a much easier time escaping the culling system. His wings sprouted later, so he wasn't immediately culled upon birth. He made a life out in the forest with other lowbloods, which allowed him to live relatively peacefully, at least outside of society. Things could've been a lot different for Rufioh had he undergone the same treatment Kankri did, but we can only guess how he would react under those circumstances. Rebelling sounds about right, but who knows how far he could've gotten with that?
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Rufioh's behavior is very passive, and he seems pretty content with his life as a mutant. He treats it normally, while Kankri on the other hand hates terms like "mutant" and sees it as a more derogatory term than anything. This is just a Kankri thing, but this could very well be why it's a Kankri thing. I like to think the two have somewhat bonded over being mutants in the past, and Rufioh knows the extent of the culling system and its effects. It's a good thing he ran away while he could, whether it be intentional or not. Rufioh's relationship with his mutation is because he was able to grow up in a setting that didn't shame him for it, allowing him to be carefree and treated like any other troll. This is what Beforus should be, or what the ideal was meant to be.
Beforus culling can be just as bad as Alternia culling, in the way that the victims of it suffer the effects for the rest of their lives. Many culled trolls might even die early on, either because of natural causes in mutations or other health issues brought upon them from the culling treatment. Kankri was conditioned to believe that he shouldn't exist, but to be thankful that he was taken care of anyway. If the people of Beforus were under the impression that culling was an honorable responsibility to take up, caring for the life of another, the ones who were culled are less likely to get help in their situations. His distaste towards the caste system and its inequalities is justified, and that seems to be where a lot of his priorities lie, on educating others about that underlying hierarchy. He's pretty ignorant on other subjects like Porrim's arguments about gender roles on Beforus, and refuses to learn more about it. Which, is not a good thing of course, and is definitely on the list of things he needs to work on, but there are explanations. A lot of what I think are Kankri's personal triggers came from his upbringing, though we can only speculate. Stuff like this is why I enjoy digging into canon, speculation and theories are something I'm not able to indulge in often.
But in conclusion, damn.
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carneirinha · 4 months
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two birds with one stone
written for the 2023 carrie holiday fic exchange and for @scary-white!! hope you enjoy!!
sue comes up with the idea of going to the prom with one of tommy's friends so that both she and carrie can enjoy it, a decision that ends up saving her classmates' lives. (light carrie/sue/tommy. everybody lives and has a good time, novel accurate, etcetera :3)
Sue straightened the neckline of her dress, beginning to think that the polyester lace in her dress that she could feel brush against her skin so routinely would give her further troubles. There wasn’t much to focus on while inside the car, and all she could do at this point was hope that this wouldn’t be too overwhelming for the poor girl Tommy waited for at the door.
The two had made out outside the car, before picking anyone else up for the ride, like a kiss goodbye before they began things. That night, there would be no affection. Sue found it fair that way.
(wonder how theyll look together)
She had to admit, she wasn’t as much of a Christ figure as she thought she’d be on such an occasion: She caved in. One sunny sunday, two days after she’d hatched her plan, she called Tommy in his landline, and, after waiting for a minute or two for his mom to go ‘fetch him’, she asked a simple question: “Do you have any friends who don’t have a date for the prom?”
It wasn’t too selfish, she convinced herself. In a way, she’d just been giving another person the chance to experience a once-in-a-lifetime event that had been so widely discussed the entire year. But, ah, she was lying if she didn’t say she didn’t half do it just to listen to the bands playing, half slow music, half rock, feel the golden spotlight lights softly hit her hair, be absorbed by the overabundance of glitter cut out stars and crepe paper covering everything. This wasn’t just about herself
(she hoped she sure hoped she wasnt making it so)
but it was played out, in a way, so all would come out winning in the end. How bad could that possibly be?
After a few seconds of no answer, she felt like she had to jump in, explain herself further. “I’ve been thinking. You take Carrie. I take one of your friends with no date, I know you have at least one. We can spend the night together, Carrie will get to… well, have fun, and you’ll even be able to bring a buddy along…”
Tommy finally answered after what seemed like eternity, first with a chuckle, then “We’re doing the long haul, huh? I like your plan, though.” The guy he eventually settled on was Rodrick Wilson, a quarterback that, while mostly put as an emergency third, Tommy had an amicable relation with: “He’s really a nice guy if you get to talk to him, but, since he doesn’t talk much to girls, none of them wanted to ask him out and neither did he think of anyone,” he explained.
Susan, feeling like she had finally dropped a boulder that she’d been carrying before making the call, replied, “I’ll ask him when I see him.” and, as an addition, said “Thank you. I love you.” This time, the first sentence came out naturally, almost gleefully, like a child who’d gotten candy.
Tommy took a few moments to reply, taken aback. “I love you too.”
Neither had been this emotionally intimate before planning for the senior prom.
Sue’s proposal, on a rather slow and cloudy Tuesday, had gone a lot more smoothly than Tommy's had… or at least she liked to imagine it so. As Rod - how he was often called - sat down for the class that the two shared, she walked up to him and said, in the most casual, non-committal way she could manage, “If you don’t have a date, would you like to go to prom with me?”
The boy, who Sue noted had hair that appeared to be growing into what was meant to be a mullet but didn’t quite reach that point, cocked his head back in a lighthearted laugh that indicated he somewhat knew about what she and Tommy had been up to,
(oh god this was a bad idea)
then nodded and said, “Yeah, sure thing.” And that was the last of it. Sue went to her seat and class began as normal, surprised that at least half of the plan seemed to have gone well.
What was tough to endure, however, was the surprise that some made clear. Lots of people, of course, weren’t surprised and caught on to what was happening. But the ones that were, mostly girls, seemed to almost react to the rumours as if what the two had done was an impossible feat. One of these, of course, was Helen Shyres, when the Decoration Committee worked on the prom mural in the gym. “You and Tommy are going, right?”
“Yes,” Sue replied, as she painted a gorgeous sunset with orange coloured chalk. She made sure that it would be the most gorgeous Spring Ball that would ever exist. “but not together.”
Helen stopped drawing and the two looked at each other in silence, like Susan had just mentioned something unthinkable and profane. “Can I ask you about it, Sue? God, everyone’s talking.”
Sue stopped drawing. “Of course.” She put the chalk down and tried to beat off excess chalk from her hands, which were bright orange at this point. “I suppose I ought to tell someone. Tommy asked Carrie, so that she’ll get out of her own head a little, and I asked Rod because he just wanted to go but had no one to take him.”
There was a bit of an awkward silence, so, once more, she felt as if she should add some information to explain herself. “We’re still going to be together and have fun. We’ll even sit at the same table. We’re just wanting others to have fun, too. Besides… I owe Carrie this much.”
And, then, as she saw Carrie get inside Tommy’s Ford 1963, sitting next to her on the backseat, face half giddier than she had ever seen her before or ever, and half mortified, Sue couldn’t help but notice for the first time that she wasn’t hideous as people made her out to be. In fact, as they drove around in his car, street lamps casting shadows and illuminating her face all at once, she was quite gorgeous.
Her dark blonde hair, that she usually saw frizzy and styled for practicality, laid around her pale shoulders like a curtain. Her round face now seemed to be positively glowing, in a way, and even her dark eyes had more of a shine. Her full lips, she noted, were highlighted with a peach-coloured lipstick that suited her just right. Her figure, usually hidden away by cardigans and long skirts, was now accentuated - in almost every way, even if Sue didn’t quite pay attention to those things - by the beautiful, simplistic, dark red dress that she wore.
All she could say was, “Hi... Did Tommy tell you how stunning you look already?” Tommy, upon hearing that, seemed to smile and slightly nod, while driving. Carrie replied, timidly, “Yes, he did.” He didn’t lie.
The air in the gymnasium that night smelled heavily like synthetic fabrics, hairspray and crepe paper, but Sue didn’t mind. She was right, making the decision to still go to prom was worth it in her mind. She sat, with a glass of fruit punch, mostly people watching: It was a habit she often liked to do, especially in moments with as many people as this. The Honor Society had just begun collecting the votes for run off voting for Prom King and Queen, and, in some faces, she saw nervousness and anticipation for something, in others, boredom and contempt as their fellow students snatched the ballots from their hands.
Most importantly, her attention was redirected back to her table. They’d all collectively voted for Tommy Ross and Carrie White, as, when Tommy exclaimed, “Let’s vote for ourselves. To the devil with false modesty!”, Carrie laughed and
(oh she sounded cute)
immediately after, Susan followed with a lighthearted “Gee, I’m voting for you two as well. I just can’t compete like this.” When she looked over to her prom date’s ballot, he seemed to have done the same. Carrie giggled, before accidentally hurting herself with a splinter from her pencil after voting for herself. Susan’s eyes widened, but as Tommy began to comfort her, she couldn’t help but zone out as she figured things would probably be alright. He’d been treating her well the entire night.
She looked up. It wasn’t particularly remarkable: a regular gymnasium ceiling, but, if anything, she was drawn to it because of how unremarkable it was compared to how flashy the entire building looked, a sore for the eyes despite its beauty, what with the bright lights.
And then she noticed something.
There were two buckets above the lights that illuminated the stage.
Chris had gotten inside the gym during the Prom Committee decoration, and, as Sue’s mood soured as she watched her talk to Tina Blake - of course, the two were as close as they could get -, a question arose in her mind. “Helen?”
“Hmmm?”
“Are they going to do something?”
Helen’s face seemed to somewhat distort itself, and, like an actor in a play, she replied, sweetly, “I don’t know.” Overinnocent.
“Oh.” Sue replied curtly, taking note.
(you know you know something: accept something goddammit if it's only yourself tell me)
The two went back to colouring.
She hadn’t seen those buckets there before, though it could have just been a small detail that her brain left out. Why wouldn’t it? As she examined it more, however, she couldn’t help but notice how out of place they were.
It was then she noticed the rope and the pulley set up near them, looking like a strange Rube Goldberg machine, that she remembered not seeing them before. It could be confetti or something equally obnoxious of the sort, but, if it were, she would have seen it be set up by a classmate or two when aiding with decoration.
The rope led to underneath the stage, as she tracked it down, and it was then a familiar, but alien feeling creeped up. She didn’t worry the entire night about Chris and her kind showing up and doing something, but it was then that the feeling hit her once more, like a sharp chest pain.
“Excuse me,” she said, as she got up from her seat, looking at Tommy who looked back at her with a confused look on his face. “I have to see something.” She slowly walked towards the side of the stage, trying to avoid bumping into Tina Blake and Norma Watson, who shined with pride and walked around collecting the votes like hyperactive ants.
When she did, she then noticed there seemed to be at least some sound coming from under the stage, muffled by the dark mint faux leather curtains that seemed to have been there since 1954. That strange feeling overcame her once more, as if something was incredibly, terribly wrong, and she pulled the stage upholstery up.
(thats hargensen i knew it i fucking knew it)
Blood rained down on the empty thrones, without anyone to crown.
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theragethatisdesire · 8 months
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i’m sorry ur not feeling well 🥺💗 sending you positive vibes tonight!!
for the slumber party plz tell me allll about your favourite character that you don’t currently write about 🙊 i wanna hear all the secret deets
HEY TIFFFFF i appreciate it :( i hope i'm not like being annoying venting on here i'm just so miz and i know my irls are sick of hearing it lolol anyways!!!!
okay my current obsession is gojo. and bc i haven't actually started the fic yet, i don't technically write for him often, only per request. does that count? idk i wanna talk ab gojo lol
just gonna throw everything below a cut because idk where i'm headed with this. minors stay away!
this is like, canonical, but gojo's so fucking annoying LMAO like i just know he is the most obnoxious, can't-sit-still, sarcastic asshole on the planet. he really makes it hard to love him sometimes.
this....is not a spoiler for a fic i'm def not writing (wink wink) but i just don't think gojo could really properly fall for someone who was not powerful. like i think part of his distance from others is his (admitted) narcissism that is somewhat well-earned considering he is....gojo fucking satoru. he needs someone that is at least somewhat towards the top of their ranks in whatever they do.
i also feel like gojo would be encouraging to a fault? like always pushing you further towards your goals, stepping in obnoxiously if your boss doesn't notice you've been working your ass off for a promotion (again, annoying). like he won't rest until you've made progress.
gojo also gets baby girl-ified WAY too much
like hear me out
we see him through the eyes of the kids/around his students in most of s1, and that's not to say he doesn't have the potential to be a playful, lighthearted person *when he wants to be*
but remember that scene of him talking to the jujustu higher-up where the guy tells him to watch his mouth and gojo laughs in his fucking face??
he's an egotistical, all-powerful, ballsy maniac. like gojo is not braiding your hair and cooing in your ear 24/7.
he is slowly backing you into a wall and taking what he wants from you. like sorry he just is.
also gojo strikes me as someone who is ....nasty. like, blood and knife play, gun play, psychopathic kind of nasty in the bedroom. idk if i would personally ever write that, but he's been through so much and seen so much gore you know that that's fucked with his....tastes, so to speak
i do think however that gojo would be absolutely devoted to his partner
like it would take him forever to come around and accept that he now felt responsible for protecting yet another person and that he had accidentally formed a connection (i see gojo as also having a very weird relationship with his humanity vs. his divinity but more on that another time)
but once he's around? he's in it for life. i mean, even if you don't ship stsg, you must acknowledge that gojo has never been willing to truly let geto go. he couldn't kill him, refused to believe geto had done that even though geto was showing signs of deteriorating mentally.
he's the same way with his partner. good luck breaking up with gojo because it's going to be a years long process.
gojo loves someone who can push back at him. he doesn't want an entirely submissive partner (kinda like eren!)
he likes someone who will put him in his place, has a sharp tongue, isn't afraid to stand up for themselves or others.
love language is absolutely gift-giving like that man has to spoil his partner he can't help it
size kink. turns his infinity on mid-sex to punish you. wants to have sex where he stands overlooking tokyo in the s1 opening. always takes the blindfold off during sex. huge public sex guy. i said what i said. it's hard being correct.
i could literally go on for HOURS tiff you have no idea the grip this man has on me. i cannot wait to write this fic!!!!!!!! ah!!!!!
thanks for coming to my slumber party lovie kisses from me to u :)
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Well, you know what - I am absolutely exhausted now. That's the thing about double Casualty nights. I went off them quite a while ago because it gives me a lot to talk about afterward, making typing up my thoughts take longer, and because while I like to think I have a good enough attention span it can only last so long. Also I was more triggered by the eps than I thought I'd be (my fault though, I misjudged how I'd feel).
Yet! I am glad. We went two entire eps without Faith turning up at all. My second-least fave, Iain, was there but primarily playing the only role I like him in: Jacob's friend who tries to look out for him. And thus, even he was likeable tonight.
And of course, Jacob is finally, finally getting focus again!! It's been long enough.
But before I get into all of that, thoughts on ep 1:
Rash's storyline was... well, it's very intense. A lot more so than I would have expected. His whole breakdown about everything being broken was incredibly sad to see. Poor, poor Rash.
I didn't think this would lead to him leaving but I'm not sure now, I could easily see this being an exit story. I hope not - though, on the other hand I want him to be happy, enough that if he has to leave for that I'd go along with it.
Neet Mohan was brilliant. He's one of Casualty's best when he gets the chance to be. I'm pleased it seems the show is finally acknowledging that, even if it means Rash getting a sad storyline for now. Also, I tend to like an ep that partially revolves around a character being in therapy. I hope we get one for Jacob eventually.
I'm... intrigued by Patrick. I really don't know what to make of him, though I don't think I'm meant to. He's definitely an unknown quantity of sorts so far. I thought he'd remind me a lot of Henrik and he does, albeit mostly in different ways than Max did. Patrick makes me think of early Henrik. The grumpy, not exactly nice new man in charge who just wants everyone to focus on their work, with just the tiniest hint of a gentler side beyond all the rudeness. The scene where he talked about Rash being like him, however, was not very Henrik of him. I don't think early Henrik would ever have opened up even that much.
I continue to like Tariq as a character so far. I enjoy his dynamic with Rash a lot, still. Their borderline-brotherly dynamic is very interesting. And I have to say, he was cast really well - he feels like such a believable cousin for Rash!
Ngozi continues to be great, as well. I adore her.
I thought the way this ep depicted how busy the department was was incredibly well done. I don't have much more to say there, but I wanted to point it out.
And as for the second ep:
I'd almost forgotten just how good Charles Venn is when he gets to do dramatic acting! Not that I don't enjoy the comedy/lighthearted stuff too, but there's been hardly any of that recently either - it's just felt like nothing but "Iain, I am now going to prop up your storyline because you're not interesting enough to carry it alone, I hope you don't mind". But he got to be brilliant again tonight.
And Jacob gets the focus he deserves. It's about time Blake came up again! I wonder what's going on with Blake, he did sound very upset. And I wonder what Elle is doing. I hope she doesn't get forgotten.
Jacob's line about how him and Blake haven't really talked for a while was very intriguing. I'm glad him being basically never acknowledged for like, forever is seemingly being incorporated into the storyline rather than glossed over.
Nicole is an excellent character so far. I love her.
Rida was fantastic tonight. Incredible acting from Sarah Seggari! Some very upsetting moments, undeniably, but the writing and performance were pitch-perfect. Wow. She's amazing.
Siobhan is wonderful. I've definitely come around to her.
Anyway, that's most of what I can think of to say about tonight but I'm sure I've left a lot out that I can't remember at the moment. Basically, however, the TL;DR version of all this is: I love Jacob.
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wutheringmights · 4 months
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I have to provide some context for this one.
Once a year, some friends and I get together to put on a big powerpoint night. We go hard for these. I usually do a big presentation where I analyze a piece of media. I put a lot of effort into doing the research for these. I once did one on eugenics rhetoric/ideology in My Hero Academia, for context.
This year, I want to do a presentation that tackles the antisemitism and fascist ideology in Attack On Titan. Naturally, this required research. A couple of weeks ago, I was reading an article on Polygon when I read that Attack On Titan has a YA novel spin-off. Not a light novel translated into English. A YA romance novel written by an American author published in English for American audiences.
Huh, I thought. You guys can probably tell by some of my reading choices that I deeply enjoy putting myself through some god-awful books (primarily YA). And one that's a tie-in to an anime I love being a hater for? Sign me up.
I bought myself a used copy and read it the moment it came in the mail.
That's all the context you need. Now that I've covered my ass, let's talk about what I actually think about Garrison Girl by Rachel Aaron.
It's not the worst thing I've ever read. The prose is overall decent, and I can appreciate that the main character has a pretty clear character arc. The best contribution Aaron made to the Attack On Titan series as a whole is a section towards the beginning where she takes about 2-3 pages to just describe how grotesquely horrifying the Titans are. I always thought the Titans were more funny-looking than anything, so this was a much needed improvement.
Everything else... ugh. Where do I start?
First off, the romance with male lead Jax drove me nuts. On paper, it's probably okay. Aaron put in a lot of effort to make sure they started off hating each other before slowly falling in love. Unfortunately, I really don't like Jax as a character. He annoys the hell out of me, and there was one too many times where he forced the main character, Rosalie, to apologize for something she did not need to apologize for.
The plot is largely episodic, theoretically tied together by Rosalie's character arc. By itself, it just feels like a slightly boring set-up for a larger series. It's fine. Some of the antagonistic characters were too cartoonishly evil for my taste, but it at least works. Having a plot that works is a surprisingly tall order, so I will give Aaron credit for that.
But in context of being a story that ties into Attack On Titan...
Attack On Titan is very good at being self-important. It is a very stupid story with some glaring writing flaws that can hide its issues under the veneer of depth and complexity. As long as you do not think about Attack On Titan too hard, it is a fine watch. Then it started including things that you HAVE to think about like eugenics and persecution, and it becomes glaringly obvious that the author has no real idea how any of this stuff works and only cares about the aesthetics of war.
None of that is in Aaron's book. On one hand, THANK GOD. On the other, this doesn't feel like it fits in with anything in the anime. Where are the gruesome, meaningless deaths? Where are the characters waxing poetry over their moral choices? Where are characters doing batshit things that can only be described as "cool as balls"? Aaron tries to squeeze some of this towards the end, but that still means reading 200 pages of lighthearted military exploits.
This just feels ill-conceived.
I have never read anything else by Aaron, but from a quick perusing of her Good Reads account, I don't think I would have picked her to write this. In her Reddit AMA, she says she took the project because she's a big fan of the show. Good for her, but I don't think she did a good job at making something that fits with the show.
But any Attack On Titan tie-in shouldn't be written for teens. An older target demographic would have opened the doors for a lot more of the anime's signature flairs.
I just think the very existence of this book is fascinating. Every time I check out the YA section at B&N, I always see more novels that are part of bigger non-book franchises: Disney princesses, Avatar the Last Airbender, Marvel comics. Whoever decided in ~2016 that American publishing should try to go anime was ahead of their time.
Yet, it seems like this book didn't do well enough to generate a trend. I haven't seen any other anime novels. But anime is more popular and more mainstream than it has ever been. Surely, another attempt will come.
Yet, Attack On Titan is a last of its kind. While anime is hugely popular, none of the big series now are the same ubiquity that early Attack On Titan did. Do you remember 2013 when the show first came out? Everyone was watching it, even non-anime fans. Many of the articles I read credit it as jumpstarting Crunchyroll. They also say that it's the perhaps the last property that every weeb could be expected to have working knowledge of, much like everyone's latent knowledge of Shonen Jump's old Big Three. There is so much variety and options at this point that weebs aren't watching all the same shows anymore. It's the last titan of an old age of anime fandom.
I don't know if anyone will ever attempt a novel tie-in again. Should it happen, then this is a strange, ill-conceived product ahead of its time. Should it not, then this is the most unique and strange attempt to profit off of a mainstream anime.
I hope Alex Aster writes a novel for Naruto. That's the good ending.
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