#Anon I am so sorry I've been trying to respond for so long and I was just getting stuck on it but I finally managed!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goleb · 2 years ago

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Have you ever incorporated or made a Roylore version of what was established in the lost pilot, Wakey Wakey? Or are you not too keen on it in general? I know you’ve already given Roy’s hometown a name!

Anon, I am so sorry it took me until now to respond, I've been meaning to do it so much sooner!! I need you to know how much you've contributed to the publication of various Roylore… well, lore, because it's a lot, and it is APPRECIATED. Seriously, it means so much. Thank you. 🥺😊

Ah, the lost pilot… Unfortunately I've only seen bits of it - as much as I could, considering the it being lost and me living in Poland thus not being able to see it live and all else - so I unfortunately can't obnoxiously overanalyse it frame-by-frame for my own Roylorish purposes, but I can still try to get something for you!

Under readmore because long + rambling, as always.

Alright, well, immediately you got me there XD I'm not too keen on it in general - I mean, Roy's not even really in it! You just can't have the Roylore without Roy. But, ah, seriously now XD

Yes! Roy comes from the city of Craywall. Which means, fun fact, unlike Duck Guy and Red Guy, Roy's not even a Londoner. I mean, Duck Guy's from Clerkenwell, and Red Guy's… probably from there, too, I don't know - I never bothered to ask, but they're like, childhood friends, right? Or at the very least they met long before Roy met either of them. You get my point. [Update: I asked. I was wrong. Red Guy's from South London. Doesn't matter.]

Craywall is a relatively modern city that is currently best known for 1. Roy living in it, and 2. it having a mall that appears to be stuck in the 80s-90s. Well, I'm kidding of course, but I'm also not lying XD The people of Craywall are an even mix of puppets and otherwise, but it's nothing particularly out there. There's also significantly more Craywall citizens than one could reasonably get to know, but Roy still somehow manages to have acquaintances and contacts all over the place. That's just how he is. Makes it a whole lotta easier to accomplish when you've invested in half the city, but you know how it is.

Craywall is… regular sized. If you wanted to lock Craywall down, you'd need a significantly bigger gate. I mean, there's, you know, the usual stuff: a couple more than just a few houses, the previously mentioned mall, the park with the playground and the ice cream stand that Roy and Yellow buried Shrignold in that one time, a couple cafes, several couples of shops, a local university, a school that Roy vehemently refused to send Yellow to for several years…

And speaking of Yellow! You know me. You know I care about Yellow immensely. He is my boy. Roy's boy. Well, our boy. And if anyone were to make him sad on his birthday, I would throw hands so fast. With that said, he cannot have a puppy (also, what the fuck!). He did once have a pet loaf of bread though! It was not sentient - or even alive, actually - and died soon after from a bad case of the mould, and it was promptly buried in the garden, but it was an important lesson on responsibility and the mortality of things for the boy. He does eventually get two pet rats, a male one named Ratty / Roddy, and a female one named Eighteen-Hundred's Industrialist George Cadbury (and yes, that is her full name, and yes, you have to say the whole thing every time). He's very good with them!

Funny thing is, Craywall has an established 'mayor' person. And when I say established, I mean that there is a statue of him in the centre of one of the roundabouts. The head of the statue got knocked off some years back and to this day it remains headless, and is officially recognised as such by the locals, so nobody's willing to do anything about it. Well, he tried to get it fixed once but that was deemed a waste of taxpayers' money that wasn't beneficial enough for the rest of the people in power so it never happened. And nobody even remembers what that guy looked like anymore, but that roundabout is best known as the hotspot for a number of fast food vendors, including Roy's favourite salad place.

Okay. I admit. I find the "Duck Guy is weirdly horny for a bowling ball" thing to be absurdly funny, and I've referenced it a few times (such as in that one old mermaid drawing, which, huh, I completely forgot its May already, I should draw something about that!) so you can safely consider it Roylore canon. Also his interest in politics and his interest in the military all match up, considering everything we know about him. Duck Guy is just Like That. I mean no offence, but I think if you play your cards right and flatter him well enough, you can get him to do a lot of things your way.

I've nothing to say about Red Guy in this, cause he just kinda… walked off. Saved the day. Y'know, this is kinda a reverse Jobs scenario, now that I think about it. You know what I mean?

In regards to Fizzy Milk, all you need to know is that I had this whole thing going on with Dont-Hug-Me-Aesthetics (cheers, btw) back in the day that included me making this:

so you know! And Yellow going through his teenage rebellion phase is, frankly, adorable - just not under these circumstances.

Am I forgetting anything? AH. Yes.

I always enjoyed the taste of keys.

#Shut the heck your up mouth Roy #long post #DHMIS #Don't Hug Me I'm Scared #Dont Hug Me Im Scared #Anon I am so sorry I've been trying to respond for so long and I was just getting stuck on it but I finally managed!!#I wonder what you're up to these days - it's been almost half a year since we last talked #Your asks always made my day a little brighter hehe thank you for letting me just talk about things (I mean Roy about Roy about Roy)#But yeah... Craywall! It's a lovely place and you should visit sometime

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turnfires-secret · 2 months ago

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Kinich x top male reader? Imagine that Kinich limps a little after their night with reader, and while reader is trying to make amends, Ajaw makes fun of them in every possible way. That would be fun lmao😭

Anon ilysm i've been craving a reason to write ajaw for days now and I finally get my excuse!

This isn't really smut tho... sorry if I've disappointed anyone!

Payment Due | Kinich X Male Reader

It’s beyond hot inside your shared bedroom. How long had the two of you been at it? Neither you nor Kinich could recall. Kinich has buried his face into the crook of his arm again, trying to keep himself quiet. It doesn’t bring the Turnfire hunter any sort of mercy from the ruthless unending pleasure plaguing his mind, seeing as you just start fucking him harder fueled by the desire to listen to the whorish sounds that slipped from his mouth.

When Kinich wakens the next morning he’s met with a terrible sticky sensation and… as per usual, the most aggravating sound Kinich had heard in his whole life.

“Ew! You humans really are disgusting! I’d have never expect my own servant to engage in such… foul, vile, unholy, unsanitary acts of sacrilege in the close presence of the mighty dragon lord, Ku’hul Ajaw! “

Attempting to ignore Ajaw’s incessant yapping, Kinich takes a deep breath and gets up out of bed… Only to realize the pain and agony that came with such a task. Actually, phrasing it that way is abit too… dramatic. What he was actually facing was the aches and pains of post sex. Kinich is limping, and (to make the situation worse) Ajaw notices.

“Oh? Did that puny human you drool over fuck you that hard to the point you can’t walk straight?! Wait- Meheheheh! maybe today’s my lucky day! You should go outside and try fight a pack of those idiotic tribal warriors and die!”

“I’m not that stupid, now leave me alone”

Kinich replied, taking yet another deep breath before going to the bathroom and taking a shower. The dendro user finishes his shower, feeling much more refreshed and awake despite the fact he’s still limping. Changing into some fresh clothes he feels your arms around his waist and your head nuzzle into his shoulder.

“Well good morning to you too”

“Mhhh~ Kinichhh why are you up so early….?”

To Kinich, the sound of your voice was always the best part of his day.

“It’s far from early my love, Infact, it’s 11 am”

“Still too early…”

“EW, DISGUSTING LOVE BIRDS, YOU MAKE ME SICK!”

Theres a pause in the room before you and Kinich both decide to once more completely ignore the yelling pixelized projection.

“Moving on, you, should be paying me compensation.”

Even though your voice was the best medicine for the aloof warrior, you were still not exempt from his habit of counting costs. To Kinich, it seems his aching grievance was enough to warrant payment.

“Wh- payment?!”

“Because of your prior actions i now find it hard to walk normally, so personally, i think you should pay the prince, no?”

“Personally i think you should charge them has much as you can, Kinich!” (Ajaw says, bardging into the conversation only to get ignored)

“Wh- Alright then~ For payment how about… we go another round?”

You respond, your voice now holding that seductive tone you seemed to enjoy using with him.

His neck is sensitive after last night’s activities. You bite down, hard enough for him to feel it. Such an action’s associations mixed with such sensitivity forced a needy whine from Kinich’s throat, aswell as changes the Turnfire warrior’s mind.

“... fine, i have time to spare… just… be abit more gentle this time, will you?”

#genshin impact #genshin male reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #sub genshin #bottom kinich #kinich x you #kinich genshin #kinich x reader #kinich #ajaw #k'uhul ajaw #genshin ajaw #genshin impact kinich #genshin kinich #malipo kinich #kinich and ajaw

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jakescakeislateforourdate · 9 months ago

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Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx

Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader

wc: 4,600

Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college.

As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way.

It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars.

Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time.

“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.”

You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson.

“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe.

Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.

Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind.

Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.

It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.

When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.

Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.

“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”

“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”

Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest.

Her hands—

What is wrong with you, Joe?

Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin. Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep.

…

Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains.

“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued. The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before.

The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.

As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.

Right in front of you! What is going on?

“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”

Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.

There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”

About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags.

Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off.

Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.

“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.

“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear.

When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world.

You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”

You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.

…

The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.

“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.”

“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”

“Ouch, that hurts me.”

“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right.

“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.”

Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”

“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.”

Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout.

Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”

“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”

“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.

He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you. He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too.

His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”

“Then who else would I be?”

“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious.

“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”

“You too are good friends then?”

“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.

Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”

“None of the girls from high school? Never?”

“Not one.”

You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do.

People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”

“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt.

“Can I walk you home?”

“I would love that.”

Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?”

“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him.

“His parents remind me of my own.”

Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”

“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”

“Hey now,”

“Sorry.” You take his hands.

He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.

When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”

…

The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away.

He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.

…

Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles.

His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse.

Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it.

Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.

You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”

“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”

“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.

“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”

You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.

After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak.

“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in.

“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”

“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.

Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”

“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”

“I know.

“Really?”

“Pocock made sure I know.”

The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”

“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”

You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat.

You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist.

“Can I—may I kiss you?”

Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart.

“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”

...

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.

-the author

#boys in the boat #Joe rantz #callum turner #joe rantz x reader #callum turner x reader

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silassinclair · 4 months ago

Note

Making up with ID! Leon after an argument? (fluff?)

Of course anon! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3 Sorry it took so long to respond I've been busy asf. Anyways this one is pretty short because I didn't really know what to write. CW// Alcoholism, Arguing, Jealousy

Masterlist Here!!

Workaholism

ID!Leon x Reader

You knew what you were getting into when you married Leon Kennedy. Whether it be helping him fight alcohol addiction or cuddling close in the midnight hour. You fell in love with every part of him and adored him for it. But sometimes he would really be a stubborn old pain in the ass. Especially right now.

"Leon I really miss you. I understand you have a really intense job but you don't have to take this mission! The mission was optional yet you took it on anyways. And in December too? I want to spend Christmas with you." You say, pouring your heart out into every word. You two have been at it for over an hour.

But there was no winning with your workahoic husband. He was as stubborn as a bull. And when he wanted things his way he would get it. But you couldn't let him win without putting up a fight, there was always a chance after all. This is for his own good. The hours he put in were unhealthy and you see the tolls it takes on his body.

"Y/n." Leon utters lowly. "I need to do this. Who else will?" He was sitting on the couch manspread; pouring himself a glass of bourbon. You've been helping him fight alcohol for years but here he is drinking right in front of you. He may as well spit on you because of how blatantly disrespectful he's being.

You're standing in front of him arms crossed and hands clenching your biceps. You're at your limit right now, there's only so much you can take. Everything feels hot; your throat, your eyes, and the grip you have on yourself.

"Leon do you not want to be with me? That you'd rather fight bioweapons than spend Christmas with you wife?"

The annoyed groan Leon lets out only makes you feel 100x worse. If this is what he wants then fine. What was the point in even trying anymore? If you two did spend Christmas together it would probably be miserable knowing his attitude.

Walking to the other end of the couch you plop down in defeat. "Forget it." You mutter. "Spending Christmas together would only make us both miserable. Just go do your job, I'll spend Christmas with someone else."

Leon turns to face you, his attention off his drink for once. "Someone else?"

You nod with an eyeroll. "Yeah, I'd rather not spend the holiday alone so I'll spend it with someone else."

"Who?" He mutters darkly.

"Well Chris is taking off so I'll spend time with him and Claire if she's available to-"

The sound of Leon's glass slamming down onto the coffee table makes you halt in your words. Leon was pissed before but now he looks downright enraged.

"No way in fucking hell am I letting my wife spend Christmas with another man." He seethes, now standing over you with either hand by the sides of your head on the couch.

You on the other hand are sitting stark still. Like one move would cause the cobra to strike.

"What else am I supposed to do then?" You say softly. Leon has never been this mad at you before and you were honestly scared.

Leon exhales through his nose slowly and shuts his eyes. "Baby do you know why I've been putting in all the extra hours?" He questions, answering your question with one of his own.

"Because you want to keep the world safe?" You mutter hesitantly. But Leon only chuckles and shakes his head back and forth. He opens his eyes and looks down at you with a crooked smile.

"Yes and no." His hand moves to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. "The world is only worth saving because you're in it. But the reason I work so much is so I can provide for you. Every cent counts because I wanna spoil you baby."

His words make you deflate. All the anger built up over the past hour from arguing has left your body.

"Leon..." You whisper; but his lips kiss yours in a soft, quick, peck and you're immediately silenced again.

"I wanna provide for you sweetness. I hate imagining you cooped up alone in this apartment while I'm out. I wanna see you in a big open kitchen just like you wanted. A living room with a grand fireplace and closet to hold all those sexy clothes I love seeing you doll yourself up in."

He sighs and looks down off to the side. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before I just... It's embarrassing. Being unable to provide for you."

You frown firmly and hold his face in place causing his blue eyes to widen.

"It's your turn to listen to me now Kennedy." You state. "Don't put yourself down like that you hear me?"

He gasps when you pull him into a hug. Your fingers rake through his silken blonde locks and your other hand rubs calming circles into his back.

"Don't ever feel like you're not doing enough for me. I don't need fancy things to be happy okay? I need you to be happy. So instead of working so hard to afford fancy shit, work less so we can spend time together. Because you're all I really want."

Leon sighs shakily and cradles the back of your head, bringing you into the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry baby... I just want what's best for you."

You reply softly, "You're what's best for me Leon."

He brings you into a passionate kiss. One the two of you have been needing for a long time. His lips taste like cheap liquor and it has you feeling tipsy. Rough hands feel down your waist and touch at the belt loops of your jeans.

"Now what was that about spending Christmas with Chris huh?" He rumbles roughly through sloppy kisses.

You part away panting to catch your breath. "That was just to get at your nerves."

Leon smirks. "Bad girl. I should teach you a lesson huh?"

#leon kennedy fic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #infinite darkness leon #id leon kennedy #silassinclair

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sixosix · 6 months ago

Note

hiii i fear tumblr may have ate my ask so i'll say it again just in case--if not im so sorry please ignore this i don't mean to rush you or anything :')

wanderer, candy(does that count?), fluff!! :D

(oh oh also can i be 🪐anon/saturn anon? if not thats fine! i just thought i'd ask since i think i've been sending asks consistently enough to identify myself ^^)

notes wc 800; HII your ask wasnt eaten, i was just taking a long time writing the requests LMFAO. of course u can be saturn anon!!! welcome welcome to the blog (this ask was sent a month ago and i am very much late. idek if anon is still active here…) tbh i wrote this and just went with the flow HAHA

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

You unceremoniously dump the pile of imported goods on the table, causing quite a scene in the silence of the House of Daena. They scattered about, and some even clattered onto the floor. You grinned proudly at your friends’ dumbfounded stares.

Tighnari was the first to speak. “I’m assuming you had fun on your vacation in Inazuma?”

“Do you even have money left?” Alhaitham asked, quite incredulously. The most emotion you’ve seen from this month.

It took you a moment to respond, and you felt momentarily distracted by the strange sensation of being watched. “Well, no,” you said eventually. “But I bought all this for you guys! Be more grateful, will you?”

Kaveh clapped his hands. “This is incredible! I haven’t gotten the chance to try any of these local delicacies from Inazuma!”

You nodded approvingly. See? Was that so hard? “Yes, I know. Aren’t I such a good friend? You’re welcome, all of you.”

Belatedly, they mutter their thanks.

You went on a tangent, reciting the food sales pitch you memorized from the sellers, feeling remarkably intelligent. They didn’t have to know that, half the time, you were the personification of a lost tourist/foreigner/idiot in Inazuma and just decided to play it safe and keep most of the souvenirs as food.

They segregated their wanted share and thanked you again. They left you some of the candy, which you had no qualms about eating for yourself. As you all fell into the lull of a conversation, the feeling worsened, and you’ve had enough.

You turned to your friends. “He’s been staring at me for about 30 minutes now…”

They each cast their discreet glances.

“Are you scared?” Kaveh asked worriedly.

“Look at that look in his eye!” you said. “I’ve seen that same look in Rishboland Tigers!”

“He’s not going to eat you,” Tighnari sighed. Well, he wouldn’t know that. Only Alhaitham has met Hat Guy, and he seemed to be amused instead.

“Violence is not permitted in the Akademiya grounds,” Cyno said seriously.

“Maybe it’s not you he’s looking at…?” Tighnari tried.

“Cyno, switch with me,” you ordered.

Wordlessly, he obeyed. The group watched in disbelief as Hat Guy’s gaze simply moved to where you sat next. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Maybe he’s interested because it’s a candy imported from Inazuma,” Cyno supplied thoughtfully.

“That’s a good point. I’m surprised you didn’t make a p—”

“Don’t you mean—” Cyno held up the box that displayed the Inazuman Electro symbol on the front, “shocked?”

You hung your head. You spoke too soon. “OK.”

Tighnari watched your face for a long moment, but it didn’t feel as charged as the guy sitting a few tables away. “You don’t seem to hate the attention,” he concluded at the sight your giddy smile.

“No, I really don’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “He’s smart, and he’s handsome. Of course I’m interested. I just wish he would be a bit more normal about his flirting—if he’s even flirting. Should I give him some?”

You didn’t wait for an answer as your chair scraped backward and you faced Hat Guy directly.

“Make sure it’s just the candy you’re giving!” Kaveh called out.

“I see that Sparks are flying,” Cyno said.

Walking over while you held his gaze was excessively awkward, but it was worthwhile seeing Hat Guy’s little smirk grow like he was pleased you were taking his challenge. It was a bit of a problem, however, that he was undeniably attractive. If he was cute from afar, he was drop-dead gorgeous up close.

“Y/N,” you said, in place of a greeting.

“They call me Hat Guy,” he mused. “Those from Inazuma?”

“Yes.” Suddenly embarrassed that the bullshit you were spewing was picked up on by the guy who everyone was pretty sure was born in Inazuma. “Did you hear me?”

Hat Guy shrugged, plucking one candy from the pile on your hands. “You did pretty well. But I only have one criticism, and I can tell you bought most of them from the same place.”

Ah, you did do that. He tore off the plastic and popped it into his mouth, expression turning sour. “The best ones come from the locals. You should’ve asked the kids,” he advised.

Mouth dry, you said, “Yeah, I should’ve.”

Everyone told you that the mysterious new student—Hat Guy, you now learned—was prickly and slips off when someone approaches him. His birthday was apparently a very thrilling event—in the case that everyone had to hunt him down to give him his cake.

“Want a tip?” he asked, head tilted and looking entirely pretty. His tongue rolled around as he ate his—your candy.

“You seem to know best.”

“Take me with you next time.”

#606: 5K EVENT #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you

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kassiekole22 · 1 year ago

Note

Can you do a Syzoth/Reptile x reader, about him telling the reader about things they should know about him & his reptilian form before they date each other? Thank you!!!

Are You Sure?

Picture lightly edited by me.

Description: It takes all the courage in the world to tell Syzoth how you really feel about him. But Syzoth isn't so sure that you can handle a Zaterran as a lover. So he decides to tell you everything you need to know, before taking your relationship to the next level... Warnings: Fluff, Pining, A Small Bit Of NSFW. (For brief mention of breeding.) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long for me to finish! I've been dealing with some health issues and other personal struggles recently so I've been having a hard time getting things done quickly. But I'm getting better so hopefully that will change soon. I want any other anons to know that I still fully intend on finishing your requests and to other readers, please don't let this discourage you from sending any requests. I love hearing all of your ideas! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this fic. 🖤 MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @bihansthot, @katiralovely. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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I slumped down under a shady tree after practicing fighting for a solid two hours. Lord Liu Kang told me the monks would be harsh, but I never expected training to be just as hard as it was. So I sat — the back of my head hitting the bark of the tree as it fell back onto my shoulders — and I let out a tired sigh. My eyes began to fall shut but then the wrestling of tree branches jerked me right awake as I let out a startled gasp. I looked up to find the source of this sudden commotion only to see Syzoth — in his human form — staring down at me from a high branch with a cheeky smile stretching his lips.

"You scared me!" I laughed as I reached an arm up to swat at his feet, which hung down from the branch he sat on.

After responding with a huff of laughter, Syzoth jumped down beside me. He sat down on the ground so close to where I was that I subconsciously held my breath, now very weary of moving in his presence. But not from fear — because it was the closest I had ever been to Syzoth before. The soft touch of his skin touching mine when our elbows brushed together, being engulfed in a cloud of his natural scent, even being able to hear his breath was enough to get my heart beat racing. To say I liked the man was quite an understatement. In my eyes, he was beautiful; I just wish I knew how to tell him that.

"It's so nice out here," he breathed before letting out a relaxed sigh. "I could sit out here for hours."

"Yeah, me too." I agreed, looking in every direction but his. Of course, I wasn't subtle about it — despite trying to be — and he noticed instantly.

"Are you ok?" He asked as his tone dipped softer with more concern.

I simply nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

I finally mustered up the strength to look back at him and make eye contact. But as soon as my eyes met those pale green ones, I could feel my cheeks burn with a sudden heat of desire. The expression that grew on his face was much like his tone moments ago: concerned and worried.

'Shit! He notices!'

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" He asked while placing a hand gently on my own. The sudden contact did not help my rosy completion and I felt my skin burn even more.

I quickly pulled away and nodded my head, "Yes, yes — I'm fine." I assured him. "I just got too much sun today."

It was a good lie and I just prayed that Syzoth was as gullible as I had hoped. He did not answer me after that and for a good moment, peaceful silence had fallen over us and I was glad.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and finally felt myself relax again. Looking up at the sky, I noticed that not a single cloud covered it, allowing the sun to beam down upon us. The birds chirped happily and the butterflies fluttered in the air — watching them helped all of my stresses melt away and bring me to peace. It truly was a perfect day. I let my eyes flutter shut as a cool breeze blew passed us, and then I felt completely comfortable in my surroundings.

That was until Syzoth's voice broke the long-lasting silence...

"(Y/N)," His voice came out serious as he spoke. His sudden change in tone instantly caught my attention and I turned to face the man. "I have a question that I must ask—"

"Ok — what is it?"

"Do... Do you have feelings for me?" He asked hesitantly and almost... Shyly?

I froze as soon as the words came out of his mouth and I instantly felt my cheeks burn with intense embarrassment. The shock I felt was overwhelming and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. I just sat there, thinking deeply about a million things at once.

'Does he know? Am I really that obvious? There's no way! I mean, I've done so well to hide it!... Haven't I?

As humiliating as it was, I knew I couldn't keep the truth from him for any longer. So after heaving a deep sigh to gain just a little more confidence, I spoke my confession: "Yes, Syzoth — I do have feelings for you."

He stared at me with a blank and not so surprised expression for a moment. I felt as if I was under a burning spotlight while under his gaze. Finally — after a moment that felt like a lifetime — he let out a soft sigh. It didn't seem necessarily stressed or disappointed in anyway — it was just a normal huff of air.

"Are you sure? Because — as you know — I'm no ordinary individual. I'm not human like yo—"

"I don't care, Syzoth!" I cut him off as I raised my voice slightly. I didn't mean to come off aggressive in any way — I was just eager to tell him how I felt. I exhaled slowly and lowered my voice to a more calm pitch. "I like you for you; that stuff doesn't matter."

He looked at me for a moment, almost like he was reading over my words in his mind. Something told me by his expression that he did not believe me and would need further convincing. And unfortunately, I was right.

"No, (Y/N). You do not understand." He heaved a deep breath and shifted so he was facing me more before continuing, "There is still a lot about me that you do not know. Things you are not prepared for—"

"Well... Prepare me!" I basically demanded with an enthusiastic smile and he raised a brow at me for a moment. He seemed almost hesitant to let me into his world but eventually he did nod in agreement.

"Ok... For instance, our diet mainly consists of raw flesh of animals and humans. We can eat cooked foods but we don't prefer it." He paused for a moment to check my facial expression before continuing, "We shed our skin once a year. It's a very long and uncomfortable process and I will become very irritable at that time. I like warmth and do not do well in the cold — I can't handle it, in fact. I also have to keep my skin hydrated and... There's also mating season... Um..."

His eyes averted away from mine as he shifted uncomfortably on the ground while letting out a cough. I blushed at the thought of this "mating season" he mentioned, but tried my hardest to keep my composure for his and my sake.

"I may appear human sometimes, but do know that my reptilian nature still lingers within. Are you sure you want to engage in a romantic relationship with someone like myself?"

I smiled warmly at the man sitting before me and took his big hands in my own, massaging the backs of them with my thumbs to sooth him. It was obvious he was nervous and I didn't want him to be — he deserved to be comfortable with someone for once in his life and I was going to make sure that I was that person.

"Like I said before: I like you for you. And I would be more than happy to engage in a romantic relationship with you — that is, of course, if you want to engage in one with me?"

I gazed up at him through my lashes with hope blossoming in my heart for the first time that day. I felt his hands grow sweaty in my own and the look of concern on his face remained, causing a little bit of that hope to die off.

But then his worried expression melted away with a fond smile as his cheeks turned a faint tint of pink. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against mine — not necessarily molding them into a kiss, but just holding them there. So I decided to take charge of the situation and pressed mine into his in the way a kiss would be formed. And happily, he kissed back.

I knew that loving a Zaterran would be a challenge, but I wouldn't have it any other way. My heart longed for him and now that I had him, that's all that mattered to me. I had finally found the one for me and I knew I'd be happy as long as he was at my side — this I was sure of.

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#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #mk reptile #reptile #reptile x reader #mortal kombat syzoth #mk syzoth #syzoth #syzoth x reader #KassieMortalKombatFanFics

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 9 months ago

Text

Do It For Him | Keep Quiet For Me | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You're on a family vacation but Jungkook wants you no matter the risk... Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 2.3k~ Warnings: Explicit language, an injury and blood, smuttttt and infidelity (but it's difh so duh lmao) and barely edited but yeah that's normal for me lmao a/n: This is response to someone asking for a drabble of in regards to my answer on this ask thank you to the anon/s that were interested in this and sorry it took so long to get out 😭 I was very very burnt out on this story so I hope this'll make up for it Series Masterlist

"Do you need anything? I'm gonna run inside and go to the bathroom" I whisper to my husband while we're lounging outside with the rest of the family. "No that's okay, you go ahead" he says and I respond with a quick okay and give him a quick kiss before standing up.

"Actually" he say, grabbing my hand to stop me from leaving just yet. I hum in acknowledgment, waiting to hear his request. "Do you think you could grab me another beer? Take your time in there though" he says giving me a sluggish smile, telling me he's fully relaxed and that I should probably follow up that beer with some water. "Sure honey" I say, grabbing both of our empty Kloud bottles and heading inside.

Walking into the house I first go into the kitchen to throw away the bottles but on my way I grab my phone out of my pocket to check a notification that came in but before I'm even able to turn it on I feel one of the bottle slip from my grasp and fall on the floor, smashing and scattering the glass all over the floor.

"Perfect" I groan under my breath and start crouching down to pick it all up. "Need a hand?" Jungkook asks raising his eyebrows after seeing the mess I've made. "No I'm fine I can take care of this on my own" I grumble and continue to pick up the shards while Jungkook just stands there staring at me.

"What do you want Jungkook?" I ask after a few moments pass by and realize he's been starting at my chest this whole time. "Don't you think that bathing suit is a little...revealing?" he asks as he continues to stare, not even bothering to look me in the eye.

"Last time I checked I didn't ask for your opinion and I'm still not asking for it now. Can you please just go back outside?" I ask and go to pick up another shard but when Jungkook tries to say something else I grab it too quickly and slice my hand.

"Shit" I say and stand up and grab a towel to prevent it from bleeding while I walk over to the bathroom to wash it. "There should be a first aid kit in there" Jungkook calls after me as he trails behind. "I know, why do you think I'm going to wash it in the bathroom instead of the kitchen?" I ask, pointing out how stupid it would be to tell me something I already am aware of. I've got accident prone kids so you would think it was important for me to find that right away.

"Right" he mumbles to himself, trying to stem off the irritation in his voice. "What do you really want Jungkook?" I ask, since there's clearly something else he wants.

"What I really wanna do is fuck that pretty attitude out of you but let's worry about fixing that hand up first Angel" he says, coming up behind me and placing a strong grasp on my hips as I wash the blood off.

"Real funny Jeon now can you just leave? I can take care of this on my own" I say, clumsily trying to open the box but struggling to the point that Jungkook just opens it for me. "I said I could do it myself" I say, glaring at him even though I know I needed the help. "Sure you could" he responds with a taunting smile.

Rolling my eyes at him I sift through the products and find an antiseptic and a bandaid big enough for the area. I go to rip the package open with my teeth but he takes it out of my hand before I'm able to. "I said I didn't want your help" I reply but hold out my hand anyways. "I know but you need it if we want to get this done before you bleed out" he says, focusing on the task at hand.

"Don't be so dramatic I-" "Shh" "Did you ju-" "Shh" he shushes me again and I let out a big sigh but ultimately let him take care of it.

"There, all better" he says, throwing away everything and I moved out of the way so he could use the sink to wash up. "Thank you" I mumble and he pauses for a second, "Thank you? Where's that smart mouth from earlier" he asks while drying his hands. "I was in pain and irritated alright just forget it" I say and turn to walk out. "That's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I mumble and before I'm able to walk out of the bathroom he pull me back in.

"What was that Angel? I didn't quiet catch that?" he asks, me now pressed up against the sink facing the mirror again with him pressing up against me. "I said that's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I say glaring up at him in the mirror before focusing on trying to push him off.

"Get off of me" I say, pushing my hips back against his and it then that I can feel how hard he's gotten. "That's not fair love. I took care of you and I think it's only fair if you help take care of me" he taunts rubbing his dick against my ass. "Jungkook stop everyone is outside" I plea, trying to knock some sense into him.

"Jungkook stop we can't do this" I say, slapping his hands away when they toy with the tie on my hip. "Why not angel? As long as you stay quiet no one will know" he says, pulling on the tie and sliding them down my legs, now only wearing my bikini top and a small cover I had over it which he slides down my shoulders next.

"Let's take care of that attitude huh? Looks like someone forgot who they were talking to" he says, sliding his right hand down my stomach and his left up to hold my throat. "Jungkook please sto-" is all I manage to get out before he traces a finger through my folds, making me shudder at the contact.

"Looks like someone was just begging to get fucked weren't they? Look" he say, showing me his finger, already soaked in my arousal. I try to look to turn my head away, hating that my body always responds to him but he grabs my jaw and turns me back to face the mirror.

"Nuh uh, you're gonna be a good girl and watch. Watch me fuck that attitude right out of you just like I wanted to" he says, sliding his hand down from my jaw to my neck, applying just enough pressure to remind me of the control he has over me.

"Let's see if you can cum on my fingers first huh? Think you could do that?" he asks and I don't answer, not wanting to play into his games. "Silent treatment huh? Cute" he says and applies more pressure before putting two fingers inside without warning. I choke back a moan, shocked up the stretch and the slight pain it brings.

"If you want me to be gentle with you then you need to talk to me" he says, applying more pressure on my throat as if mocking me. Daring me to say something smart but I don't. "Let's try this again. You think you can cum on my fingers princess?" he asks and I shake my head slightly, wanting him to just fuck me and get this over with.

"Really? Because I think you can. Let's test that theory" he says before he starts pushing his fingers in and out, dragging them along my walls while rubbing his thumb on my clit, all while holding my head up and making me watch as my face starts to contort in pleasure. "There you go princess, focus on how good it feels" he says, pumping his fingers in a bit faster and adding a third once I've stretched out enough.

"You sure you can't cum? Because from the way you're body is talking to me looks like you're almost there" he taunts, taking note of how hard I'm squeezing his fingers and how my legs have already started shaking. I let out a choked back moan in response and I just hear a dry chuckle from behind, clearly enjoying my struggle in trying to keep quiet and he doesn't let up at all.

"You're being stubborn aren't you? Trying to prove that I have to work harder to make you cum?" he growls in my ear as I continue to hold myself back, defying his claims and just waiting for him to fuck me and get it over with.

"Fine since you want this cock so much then why don't you beg for it?" he says while taking out his cock and dragging them up and down my folds, making me purr at the sensation. 'Shit no I cannot give him the satisfaction of knowing that I'm enjoying this fuck!'

"What was that?" he taunts, giving me a smug smile through the mirror which makes me look away again. He grabs my jaw roughly and brings my face back over again. "What was that princess? You like that?" he says doing it again, making my knees want to give out under me but he steadies me on my feet.

"Something as simple as this is making you feel like that? Angel was sensitive now wasn't she? Just begging to get fucked and didn't know how to ask for it" he says and presses on my back making my cheek press up against the glass, my breath fogging up the mirror as he lines himself up, giving up on making me beg since we need to finish up fast before anyone notices.

He pushes in without any notice leaving me biting down on my lip to muffle to sound but it only does so much. He inches inside of me giving me the smallest amount of time to adjust before he's bottomed out.

"Look at you, such a dirty little slut letting me fuck you in here. Take you from behind while you watch us in the mirror. Is that something that turns you on Angel?" and at that my body betrays me and squeezes his cock, giving him the answer that he already knew would be true. "Fuck, you're incredible" he says, raking his eye up my form before meeting them in the mirror.

"Keep quiet for me yeah? Wouldn't want anyone to know that you're taking my cock so well while your husband is outside now would we?" he says, trailing his hand up my back and finally untying the last two ties that are keeping my top on. "Or don't. I would love for them to hear what you sound like while you scream my name and beg for more but I don't think you want that now do you Princess?" he asks while placing a kiss on my neck.

"N-no" I stutter out, knowing better than to not respond this time. He reaches his arm around and pulls me back up with his hand on my throat and makes me make eye contact with him through the mirror. "Then be good and cum on this cock. Can you do that?" he questions and I nod, not trusting my voice this time with the way he's rubbing up against my walls at this angle.

He lets go of my throat and leaves me reaching out my arms to brace myself, my knuckle white from how hard I'm holding on and seconds later he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before slamming into me, making me go on my tip toes from the force. He drills into me unapologetically while watching my face contort in pleasure through the mirror.

I can't hold back and I end up letting out barely audible whimpers while he continues to abuse my aching cunt, already close to release. "Fuck Angel loosen up I can barely move" he grunts while I grip his dick so well, seconds from tipping over. "Cum" he growls in my ear and that's the last push I need to lose myself in the feeling, letting out a choked back sob and squirting all over him.

"Shit" he grunts and picks up the pace of his thrusts, fucking me through my high and tipping himself over to reach his a minute later and he grabs onto my throat again, his other hand on my hip thrusting a few more times until he's spent and both of our releases are dripping out of me.

"Fuck Princess I didn't know you could squirt" he says while roaming his hands up and down my body, touching me as much as he can before I push him off seconds later when that post nut clarity hits.

"Get out" I choke out, trying to calm myself down and bring my breathing back down to normal. "See you soon love" he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder before walking out. Not bothering to look around to see if anyone might see him leaving.

I take a deep breath and turn on the shower, getting in and not bothering to wait for the water to heat up, letting myself deal with the chill it brings to my warm skin.

Standing with my face under the stream I try to drown out all the memories of what just happened and how I just let him do that to me. Why do I always just let him get his way?

I can't keep doing this. I have to tell someone because this secret is suffocating me.

If I keep it in much longer I don't know what'll become of the person I once was.

I need to stop this, everything just needs to stop.

Read the series from the beginning

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

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AITA for planning to move out of my fiancee's place?

This one might be long so... sorry. Tried to sum it up the best I can. Hi, it's the anon moving in with the vegans. So my fiancee (20) and I (21) moved in with a pair of vegans, one of which has since moved out so now we only live with Sam (26).

Sam is polyamorous, and I thought I was too (although I now think I might be just aroace), and since moving in my partner has discovered that, unlike they previously thought when I was interested in someone a couple years prior, that they are also polyamorous, and have started dating Sam. I was totally okay with this, because I'm very poly-positive and wanted my fiancee to have a chance to discover themself and experience new things.

However, since moving in, they spend 90% of nights sleeping with Sam in their bed, and the other 10% in mine. I've been feeling really lonely about that, and expressed that, and they've responded that they've just been having a really hard time lately with their mental health, and that it's not personal. I'm trying to be supportive and understanding and patient, but I feel very isolated in this house.

Everyone in the house has chronic pain, although my fiance and I have more flare-ups than Sam does. But while there's a lot of leniency when they don't do chores, I'm still supposed to get all of my work done AND theirs, without my pain levels taken into account. This has led to me losing hours of sleep due to being expected to finish chores after getting home at 1am from my shift.

There's also the money problem: I am currently working two jobs to pay rent, and Sam makes triple what I do in salary. My fiancee only works one shift a week by choice, to pay for therapy, and thus doesn't pay rent. We are splitting rent equitably, so I'm not paying nearly as much as Sam, but still if I had the chance to cut back on hours at work to actually take care of myself (emotionally, pain-wise, actually having time to do my physio, etc) I would take it in a heartbeat. But I'm not dating Sam so I feel like there are a lot of double standards here.

I like Sam. They GM for our TTRPG home game and I have a great time. I sincerely don't want to lose those good times. But my mental health is at an all time low and I feel like a third wheel to my fiancee. I've known them for 6 years, we've known Sam for almost 1. I've started a tally of how often my fiancee sleeps in my bed vs in Sam's, and in the past 18 days, they've slept in my bed once. (I started the tally because I convinced myself I was making things up). That all said. I like Sam. But now I'm starting to have feelings of resentment due to... all of this whole situation.

This has led to me reminding my fiancee daily how much I miss them and how lonely I am, talking about moving out (they confirmed they would still live with Sam if I moved out), and being more vocal about my mental health struggles. I've started talking to my friends about it, so quite a few of them are in on the situation, and most people are advising me that I need to communicate more or that we just shouldn't get married.

I love them a lot and do still want to get married, but I also want to break up just because it's hurting to stay in this situation.

That got a lot away from me sorry, I'm probably missing some details, but I really want to know, am I the AH here? Should I be more sympathetic to my fiancee? Am I being unfair to Sam?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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star-girl69 · 2 years ago

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Hi, I've been thinking about this today, Tsu'tey with a fem reader. dreamwalker where he has to teach the reader the ways of people, and he obviously hates that, he always teases her about how fragile she is and then she starts teasing him back saying the other warriors are better than him, so tsu'tey without realizing it starts trying to impress her every day :)

Sharp Edges

—-

a/n: let’s just pretend that tsu’tey and neytiri were never betrothed pls and thank you! also this is so off ask i’m sorry anon 😭 i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of animal death, some sensual touching, mentions of bows and arrows, swearing, mentions of death, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The two of you were in an undesirable situation, yes? You had long since made your peace with it, and you knew you could be an adult about it.

Having Tsu’tey teach you the way of the people wasn’t the worst thing to happen, but it certainly had its downfalls.

But, you thought he would be mature about it.

You weren’t expecting sunshine and rainbows, but he was a knife. His edge was curved and jagged, and he seemed to point the tip right at your heart. Seemed intent on destroying you, but really he wanted to destroy the people behind you.

The humans, the Sky People, whatever they were.

He hated them, so as a dreamwalker, he hates you.

Each day, he seems intent on handing you a knife and telling you what to do with it, only to laugh when you fall on it.

“Wrong,” he grunts. It seems to be the only word he can say.

“Wrong how?”

“Your form. Raise your arm,” he says, and you follow, the string of the bow becoming taut as well. “Hm. Could be better. But, it would be a shame if that skinny arm of yours broke, yes?” he lets out a dry laugh, eyes drifting from you to the ground.

“Thank you, Tsu’tey. Everyday, you are so kind.”

His eyes meet yours and he smiles, unkindly, more so a sneer. But, regardless of what he thinks, you’ve grown used to his harshness. You may not have had his training, but your skin is steel to his insults and actions.

He seems a little startled when you don’t respond, always so used to you scowling or storming off. But, today, at least, you weren’t going to let him win.

“Let me demonstrate,” he says, and you pretend like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

He shoots the bow easily, makes it look natural. His form was perfect, his aim was perfect, and he turns to you with a cocky look, chin held high.

“I am good, no?”

“I’m not sure,” you feign, watch as his face drops. “What would a weak human like me know of all that?”

“You are funny, Y/N of the Sky People.”

“Besides,” you hum, and you know you’re striking low. Will he really even care what you think of him? But you still want to dig in, feel his flesh give in on your side, even if he feels nothing. “I saw Konve shoot the other day. He is good too, no?”

Tsu’tey scoffs. “Not better than me.”

“Of course,” you hum, but you can see the look in his eyes.

—-

The next morning, you follow the crowd to just outside of Hometree, seeing the crowd gather around something. Someone.

You push your way through the thick crowd, wondering what could possibly have everyone so engrossed?

Then, Tsu’tey sits in front of the crowd, high on his pal’i. He takes the world in one hand and carves it to what he likes. He rules it. Bow held in one hand, the other raised out like he is greeting the world- the universe.

Next to him lies the largest sturmbeest you have ever seen. Your eyes flick from him to the dead animal, until voices start to rise up.

“He hunted it! All alone! Killed it, all alone!”

You gasp and look towards him again, only to find his eyes on you. He smiles, smugly, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, hide your smile. He is not as unaffected as he pretends to be.

—-

“Impressive,” you muse when you see him for your regular lesson.

“What?” he asks, but you can tell from by the way his head tilts, he knows exactly what you’re talking about. He just wants to hear you say it.

“Your kill,” you spit, annoyed that he’s playing you like this.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, standing tall with a smug smile.

“You sure?” you smile, like a hunter caught her prey, picking up a practice bow from where it hangs on the tree.

“Sure of what?” he huffs, weary of what you might say.

“Sure it’s not nothing? No reason why you did it? No special occasion, no… special girl?”

“I know no girls.”

“You know me.”

“You do not count.”

You sigh, with and smile, eyes bright as you turn and get into position, ready for him to berate you.

“Whatever you say, Tsu’tey.”

“Fine,” he mutters, before a slow smile creeps onto his face. You ignore it, thinking he has simply come up with a pleasing insult. Tsu’tey has sharp edges, yes, but you have strong walls.

“W-what are you doing?” you gasp, but he simply holds you in place, hands on your hips.

“Sloppy,” he mutters, lips by your ear. “Again.”

“What?” his chin is just above your shoulder, and if he wanted to, if his hands slipped, he could slide them around to press flat against your stomach, hook his chin over his shoulder.

“Your form,” he says, infuriatingly slow, in a low voice, “was sloppy. Again.”

You barely manage to muster up the strength to ignore his warm, big hands, his breath on your cheek, raising yourself back up into the proper form.

He hums, one of his hands splaying across your hip, your waist, the other coming up to run along your arm. Back to his chest, just millimeters away, so tantalizingly close. You won’t pretend to ignore it- Tsu’tey is attractive. A provider. He would be not only a good mate, but a strong father, a talented hunter.

“Better,” he says, hand wrapping around your own, fingers over yours on the bow. He leans back up to your ear, so close you can feel his breath, hear something in his voice. “Shoot,” he bids.

So, you do, let the arrow fly, let it fall and sink into target. Still off, by a few inches, but close enough to where he lets you go. While the arrow falls, maybe he sees you fall too.

—-

Falling for Tsu’tey is an exhausting thing. You think about him too much, not enough- he overwhelms you.

You try your best to tease him like teases you, but while he gets more bold, hands wandering more, you shrink up. Your insults are barely insults. They hold no fire behind them, no emotion other than your flustering.

You feel stupid and foolish, like a teenager with a crush, and he seems only to enjoy. Tsu’tey seems to only enjoy sinking his sharp edges into your skin.

You barely bite back a sigh, cursing yourself for thinking you could have one nice night. It was a hunt festival- you thought he would give it up. At least for one night.

But, no, he had instead inserted himself into your conversation, pulling everyone’s in the groups attention, all while he would smirk at you occasionally.

He is like the eye of your storm, the bane of your existence.

Finally, you manage to slink away from the conversation, into the corner, waiting for the night to be over. You watch as Tsu’tey arm wrestles with some other warriors, staring at you after he wins.

One night, you think to yourself, could I not be free for one night?

Finally, after the fourth round he wins, you give up. You need air. You need space.

The woods provides the perfect cover, a place to hide and gather your thoughts, slink away for just a moment. Maybe you can even rip your foolish crush out of your chest. But then you might have to rip out your entire heart, and you don’t want to die.

Just as you manage to take a seat on a fallen tree trunk, take one, two, three deep breaths, a twig snaps from behind you.

“Fuck!” you shout, whipping around with no weapon in sight, only to see a worse fate.

He looks amused at your fear, your embarrassment, and anger rises in you.

“You will get hurt out here all by yourself, dreamwalker.”

“Then I get hurt,” you mumble, complacent and bored, turning away from him. He stops in his tracks, the sounds of leaves crunching stopping.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? I mean leave me alone, Tsu’tey. I will be fine. And if not, then why do you care?”

He scoffs, and confusion rises in your chest, but you ignore it. You can’t even see his face right now, too scared everything will all come down, and you’ll let him kill you with his sharp edges.

“I put so much effort into courting you the human way, and all you can do is scorn me?”

You swear your heart stops, hope bubbling in your chest like a volcano, threatening to spill over and burn you. That what it feels like, when you’re with him. Like you’re burning from the inside out.

“What?” you breathe, looking of your shoulder. He has no sharp edges right now. Only softness, like sea glass.

“The humans. This is how they court? The- the teasing?” you can tell the word is odd for him, but in this moment, why would you even care about that? Not when the world is in front of you, when Tsu’tey is telling you he was courting you. “I wanted to impress you, the Na’vi way. But- the humans- I did it their way, too.”

You let yourself sink, let yourself stand and fall into him. You only come a step closer, but his hands fly to your waist like he’s scared you’ll run. Like he has to keep you there. Has to keep you with him. You let him. You like it.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He frowns, fingers twitching into your sides. “Is that not what the humans do?”

“I-” you gasp, overwhelmed by everything, by him, by the feeling of air in your lungs. “No,” you choke out. “That’s not- I thought you hated me?”

“I did,” he hums, unbothered by it. “But then… you spoke about Konve, about how he was better and I- I did not like it. I didn’t even realize I wanted you until I realized I wanted to impress you. I- I would like for more, Y/N. I want more of you.”

It’s odd, to hear so many words come out of his mouth at once, especially so heartfelt, but it makes you sing and burn on the inside and feel like the most precious piece of treasure.

“I want more of you too, Tsu’tey,” you breathe.

And you’ve learned that Tsu’tey will have what he wants, so he places his lips on yours, let’s you fall into him, and you let his sharp edges sink into you.

You let him sink into you, and it hurts, it burns, buts it’s good.

—-

#tsu’tey x reader

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beesmygod · 4 months ago

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i know an anon suggested ocd to you the other day, and i didn't see the original message but i know it was a bit fraught. but i am a longtime follower who has ocd who also thinks you may have ocd. and with the reblog you just did i'm like well, maybe i can say a little bit.

i've been sitting on sending a message for a long time because (1) trying to diagnose someone on anon is so fucking weird, i am very aware and ashamed of this weirdness in sending this to you, don't worry, (2) it seemed so obvious to me and you've already talked about other mental health issues and such that i was like "no, surely she must already know she has ocd and is just choosing not to talk about it (completely understandable, i don't do it on main), and then i would also be weird for forcing her to out herself".

the thing with morality-adjacent ocd is that a lot of the base thoughts, in a vacuum, are fine. if you hurt somebody some level of shame is good so you can reflect and correct your behaviour. caring about doing the right thing and refusing to do things that violate your principles is good. it's the intensity and all-consumingness of the thoughts that is the problem.

i mean i say morality but it applies to other ocd too. you should wash your hands and keep your place clean as much as you can, but obsessively avoiding contamination by washing your hands for half an hour straight... etc. it's ultimately egodystonic - it takes the thing you hate the idea of the most and convinces you that is what you really are.

like you are genuinely an admirably principled person, more than many, and it's good that you do the right thing instead of the easy thing. but your anguish about like, not contributing enough good to the world as a comics artist and things like that screams morality ocd self-punishment to me... and repeatedly talking about it feels like a confession compulsion. which i also have, kind of! i feel the compulsion *to* confess, but i don't, because if anyone forgave me or told me it wasn't a big deal they obviously haven't formed a sound judgment because (1) they are morally depraved themselves, (2) i didn't explain myself properly and they didn't understand why it's bad, (3) they're my friend and being more permissive with me because they like me, so they're too biased.

this was long, sorry. but you're a good artist and i like your work and i hate seeing you suffer like this. and if you really don't have ocd, well, i'm just another weirdo armchair psychologist anon vanishing into the void.

i appreciate this and thank you for being kind+brave enough to send this while medication juggling is really making me insane new ways. i have not been diagnosed w/ocd and only started kicking the idea around not too long ago when cornered by the inescapable nature of my thoughts/feeling, the fact that no one understands what the hell i'm ever talking about, and seeing signs of it in someone else very close to me. and i guess incidentally learning more about how it develops/is treated.

lol your bit abt internally responding to how ppl try to comfort your "confessions" rings very true. i never thought of my posts as confessions but like im desperately trying to get a hold on a reality that makes sense to me because when reality doesnt make sense, it feels perilous and fleeting. like, doesnt anyone else feel like this? why am i the only one who sees this? how am i supposed to understand what i'm supposed to be doing to live a life that isnt equivalent to a sewage drain that empties out into people's houses if i cant even understand whats happening?

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jerzwriter · 5 months ago

Text

Thank you to the brilliant anon who sent this ask from this list! Pairing one Trystan Thorne with one Tobias Carrick may be the most inspired idea in the history of ideas! Since this is before they met their perspective C's (as you put it! lol) I swear this should be my canon. I've wanted to do a Trystan x Carolina end up in Edenbrook's ER when Tobias x Casey are on duty forever - and this would make it even better! I am LOVING that idea!!!! Thanks so much for the ask!

Books: Crimes of Passion/Open Heart Crossover Pairing: Trystan Thorne x Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: 1,032 Summary: It must have been a wild party... because when Trystan and Tobias woke up in the same bed... neither had any idea how they got there. Can they figure it out? A/N: This fic takes place approximately 2 years before the start of Open Heart Book 1. Participating in @choicesjunechallenge2024 - June (for Pride month) and "In or Out?" The original prompt was for scenario number 12 from this list by @creativepromptsforwriting

There’s something about the morning sun that commands respect. Its power is undeniable, rousing people from slumber, no matter how much the prior evening’s choices have them desiring a full day spent in bed.

That’s where Tobias Carrick found himself... cursing the morning sun that blazed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His eyes had barely opened when he felt the pounding in his head. The throbbing pain would typically be unwelcome, but today, it brought a clarity he desperately needed.

He knew his head was pounding—of that was certain. But as for everything else—where he was, what he did—he had no recollection. When he felt someone stirring in the bed behind him, his eyes jolted open wide. Another mystery unsolved... who was he with?

An audible groan filled the air—one that didn’t belong to him - and Tobias’s eyes darted around the well-appointed bedroom, desperately seeking anything that might jog his memory. Something that would make the upcoming conversation a little less awkward, but there was nothing. Not a single memory was stirred and he wondered, just how much did he have to drink?

Conceding that discomfort was inevitable, Tobias decided to bite the bullet. Ignoring the queasiness rising within him, he sat up and turned to his side, finding an incredibly handsome—if somewhat worse for wear—man seated on the edge of the bed. Even with long locks obscuring most of his face, it was clear this specimen was genetically blessed. And his torso indicated countless trips to the gym made up for whatever genetics may have denied him, only adding to his allure.

“Hey,” Tobias said with a graveled voice, causing the stranger to jump. “Sorry... didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s all right,” the man replied with a foreign accent Tobias tried to place. “I was just hoping you’d stay asleep a little longer.”

“Really?” Tobias replied. “Why’s that?”

The man turned with a sheepish grin and a delicate blush creeping onto his cheeks as his hazel eyes met Tobias's aqua-blue ones. “I was hoping you’d stay asleep so I could try to remember who you were.... perhaps take a photo to do a Google search.”

Tobias erupted into his trademark raucous laughter, only to halt when he realized it was causing immense pain—not only to himself but to his handsome bedmate as well.

“Would it be disappointing if I told you I was glad to hear that?” He replied with a slight grimace.

“Really?” The stranger responded with a raised brow. “And why is that?”

“Because I'm still trying to figure out who you are,” Tobias chuckled. He extended his hand with a disarming grin. “Tobias, Tobias Carrick. And you are?”

“Trystan,” the man replied with relief. “Trystan Thorne. It’s lovely to... uh... meet you?”

“So, Trystan, do you know where we are? Because if you do, you’re already one up on me.”

Trystan squinted as he looked around. “We’re at my place,” he confirmed. “Although... this is the guestroom.”

Tobias appeared shocked, given the size and opulence of the quarters. “Damn! If this is the spare room, what does your bedroom look like?"

Trystan peeked out from under his bangs with a sly grin. “Do you expect an invitation?”

Tobias barked out a laugh. It was rare for him to meet anyone he considered a match in the art of flirtation, and he was impressed.

“Slow down there, big boy! First, I’d just like to figure out how I got into this bedroom... we can take the rest from there.”

“I don't quite recall," Trystan chuckled. "I think I'll need a heavy dose of caffeine before I figure that out... but the last thing I remember was being at the Pride parade...”

“New York!” Tobias snapped his fingers. “I'm visiting New York for the weekend.”

“Wow,” Trystan astounded, “You hadn’t even remembered that much?”

“Hey, I’m just waking up!” Tobias assured. “Pride parade... pride parade...” he mumbled. “I remember. After I went to Marie’s Crisis to get a drink...”

“Yes! I was there... and I told everyone I was hosting a post-Pride party at my place.”

“Ah!” Tobias realized. “That explains how I ended up here. Well, at your apartment, that is not necessarily how I would up in your guest bed with you.”

“I’m not sure either,” Trystan continued. “I’ve never slept in this room. The only reason I can think of would be...” he stopped with a gasp, his eyes filled with horror. “Oh, no!”

“What?” Tobias asked anxiously.

“I was absolutely done for the night... too much partying, too much drink... I told the butler to oversee things until all the guests had left. I needed to retire for the evening.”

“And?”

“I stumbled to my room and opened the door to find my sister, Astrid, and her latest girlfriend in flagrante delicto...in my bed!” Trystan winced. “I’m going to have to purchase a new mattress!”

“Or, you could just wash the sheets,” Tobias laughed.

“You, sir, have never met my sister, Astrid, or you’d understand. The sheets will be dissolved in acid, and a new mattress is a must.”

“Damn. I’m not sure if I should be impressed with or scared of your sister,” he smirked.

“Perhaps a little of both. Anyway, I was so intoxicated even that horror didn’t fully rouse me, so I stumbled to this room and found you snoring.”

Tobias was appalled. "Hey! I don’t snore!”

Trystan found that endearing and immediately decided to let him off the hook.

“To be honest, I was in no condition to be a reliable witness. You may well be right. I tried to wake you... but you were out cold... wouldn’t budge an inch. So I pushed you to the side, put a blanket over us, and passed out myself.”

“So... we didn’t...”

“Since our pants are still on, I’m pretty sure we didn’t.”

“There’s no pretty sure here,” Tobias said with a cocky grin. “If we had... you would have remembered. Trust me.”

Trystan shook his head with a smile. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to exit this room at once. Your ego appears to be at least as enormous as mine, and having them both in a room of this size must be a fire hazard, according to the NYPD."

Tobias threw his legs over the side of the bed, recovering his shirt from the floor as Trystan carefully surveyed the sculpted contours of his unexpected guest's back, chest, and arms. Would it be wrong to ask him to remove the shirt again?

"So," he cleared his throat. "I'd normally offer to make breakfast, but I have no idea what condition I'll find this place in. But there is a lovely cafe down the street, they do a lovely brunch on Sundays - would you care to join me?"

Tobias leaned over the bed with a playful smirk. "Trystan, are you asking me out on a date?"

The normally unflappable prince appeared flustered, words hard to come by. "I'm asking you to brunch," he finally grinned. "And perhaps to Macy's to mattress shop once I'm assured Astrid has vacated the premises. Are you in or out?"

"You had me at Brunch," Tobias chuckled. "But throw in mattress shopping, and how can I say no."

"Good," Trystan grinned. "I think we're at the start of a memorable day."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #crimes of passion #open heart choices #choices open heart #choice fanfic #trystan thorne #tobias carrick #trystan x tobias #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #just one bed

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alatismeni-theitsa · 5 months ago

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I really really hope I don't end up coming off as rude in this, but I found your account from the Hades tag (the game--which I suppose I don't really have the same negative feelings for, both because I'm neither greek nor religious and thus am very disjointed from the frustrations expressed ) and seeing as the designs were the main talking point (I know I'm oversimplifying her I'm so sorry if this comes off as rude) I was curious as to what would be a respectful depiction of Greek mythology. Greek mythology has always been something I enjoyed reading about, but knowing that a lot of my exposure to it has been heavily westernize one way or another, I was wondering if I could ask for I guess more insight? I might not share the same feelings (due to again having grown up unreligious and thus trying to compare how I might feel if my own chinese mythology was given the hades treatment isn't exactly far becaue to me they really are just kinda like prompts in my mind--though I'm not sure how wrong it is for me to think like that) I do wish to understand it because your culture religion and mythology isn't a prop. It deserves the same respect every other culture/religion has/is getting. sorry for the lengthy ask, but it's perspectives like you're I want to hear more about though I've struggled to really open up to them because often time the discussions felt hostile (that said I am conflict adverse so this is probably a me problem.). On a final side note (and this is definitely where I am about to sound really stupid/bigoted but I really have to ask because my conscious will not leave me alone about it) but would it be ignorant for a person such as myself to find enjoyment from a game such as Hades less because of it's mythological roots though they are a factor and more for the story it's decided to tell (for what is honestly when I really do think about it) using the greek mythology "props"? Like enjoying it seperate from the source material?

Hello and apologies for taking so long to answer! Two consecutive hours where I exist undisturbed is very rare in my life during this period, so please, again, forgive me for replying a month later. 💜💜💜

A second anon question I got about the same issue:

I appreciate both of you for asking. Identifying the problem in the context of your situation, and what you don't know is a great step forward (and I am very sorry I wasn't able to respond to you earlier). For those who don't know, this blog, despite the salty content, is all about peaceful discussion and understanding.

I think answering the first anon ask will also cover the first. Let me start with one point and elaborate on the rest:

"On a final side note (and this is definitely where I am about to sound really stupid/bigoted but I really have to ask because my conscious will not leave me alone about it) but would it be ignorant for a person such as myself to find enjoyment from a game such as Hades less because of its mythological roots though they are a factor and more for the story it's decided to tell (for what is honestly when I really do think about it) using the greek mythology "props"? Like enjoying it separate from the source material?"

Neither I nor any other (sane) Greek would like to police people in a way of stopping their enjoyment of media. Like other Greeks, I have also played Hades and liked it. I believe we can enjoy the present media and still advocate for better media in the future. We can all be more aware, and push for gods and heroes to be treated like the cultural figures they are, and not as products of late-stage western capitalism.

Greek gods and heroes cannot be separated from their culture and still be the same since they no longer carry their stories or embody the same values. (This goes for every cultural figure.) What would be the point of Heracles if your only exposure to him was that "he is an ancient strong guy who kills monsters"? There is a whole story to him beyond that, what makes him "Heracles", a hero that Greeks hold as a symbol even in our days. Without his story, he's no different than an average modern American superhero.

To the first anon: If you were to explain any Chinese hero or deity to me, you would still need to explain all the "surrounding" elements, like the world domains, the monsters, what is "respectful" and what is "not respectful" to do within the context of the Chinese culture. You wouldn't just drop the figure in question and expect me to understand everything, right? And for this reason, I don't think it would be fair to this figure and the Chinese audiences to just drop this figure separated from Chinese culture in a super American setting. As you suspected, it would leave a bad taste in the mouth of religious and non-religious people who know this figure.

There is some effort from Western media to incorporate these elements into their stories but it's done superficially through the classic Americanized lens. This doesn't allow the audience to feel these values and stories within a different context. The producers will do anything so (mainly Western) audiences don't feel alienated by exploring a foreign culture - but this entirely misses the point of exploring a foreign ancient culture.

I don't want to be entirely absolute here and say that no modernized depiction of these figures is good. It was even a fresh take a few years ago but now the market is so saturated with this presentation that even the audience who "loves Greek myth" is only exposed to this, and misses all the nuances of the ancient Greek context.

To its credit, the Hades game incorporated some ancient elements successfully (the gods offering their favor and getting vengeful when ignored, or having their own "human-like" interactions without getting reduced to the presentation of "petty humans"). This is more than what most westernized media has achieved but I still feel we only got crumbs compared to what we could have.

For me and some other Greeks, the game would be considerably elevated by the use of actual Greek culture, in addition to its cool story. By "actual Greek culture" I mean ways of interaction, clothes (not just the standard white chiton), music, etc. It looks like most western media fears that the Greek gods inside their culture will be "too foreign" for their audiences, which treats the audiences as if they're dumb and frustrates the already tired Greeks because god forbid we ever are "too foreign", "too unapproachable" to rich/western foreigners.

As always, depictions of heroes and gods from other cultures should be kept. The very recent phenomenon of westerners just deciding to "re-paint" the Greek gods Nordic pale or West African dark - according to their social sensitivities of the time - is a decision they took alone and without any consultation of Greeks. It's a decision that treats the Greek gods like props, as well, precisely because people of the original culture were never asked, and they are negative about this type of change. This decision was taken with the same brass the western colonizers used these same figures to set harmful standards for the colonized peoples and other nations they deemed "lesser", like the Greeks of their time themselves.

As we are not expected to change Maori, Chinese and Congolese gods' appearance (symbols, clothing, phenotype (or "race" as it is in some countries)) same goes for Greek gods. We grant all gods this standard because we recognize that they're - among other things - symbols of the overwhelming majority of the indigenous people of their land. Many USians mistakenly equate Greeks with the Western colonizers and the US culture, a thought that feeds their ownership attitude which I've spoken about many times in the past and i won't elaborate further on, for the sake of your sanity xD

Finally, if one struggles to place the Greek gods in the context of an actual religion, I think it would help them to read ancient hymns for the Greek gods (which are widely available online, in English at least) so they can see firsthand the veneration they were/are worth to their worshippers. Reading plays like the Bacchae or Alcestis, or parts of the Iliad and the Odyssey where the gods are present will show the magnanimity of the gods within the religion.

I'd also encourage them to recall examples of being present when their family or friends expressed veneration towards a deity (be it the God of Abrahamic religions, the Chinese pantheon, the Hindu pantheon, and so on) and try to imagine the same veneration towards the Greek gods. Studying Greek Orthodoxy is another way to understand this veneration. Since many ancient Greek elements remain in our Christianity, in it one can find many of the old type of respect. (Saint veneration replaced the deities' worship, the Greek type of offering worship, prayer to a home altar with offerings, road altars, funerary customs and processions, etc). If one is already familiar with Christianity this study would be a good middle step, in my opinion.

Having the context for each Greek myth figure one uses can be challenging but big studios should be able to hire specialists and offer proper representation. "They want the pie whole and the dog full", as we say here; they want quick profit with the least possible effort. They know that if they just name-drop some stuff western audiences will believe they have done deep research because previous media never invited them to engage deeply with the Greek heritage.

No culture is "uncomplex" and "easy to learn". Ancient Greek culture, like all, needs significant study to fully grasp. People should not expect to know it all after one Wikipedia reading. There's always more to learn and more context to be understood. The good news is that if you speak English and have an internet connection, translations and analyses of ancient Greek texts are super accessible to you.

It shouldn't be expected from all people to become experts but if one "loves Greek mythology" and their knowledge is PJO level, I am sorry but this person doesn't really know what they "love". A decent amount of study, at one's own pace, will enrich and deepen engagement with the Greek myths. Once you gain more knowledge, you understand why it's needed.

For the second anon's question, "What would be a proper representation of a Greek god", I have mostly answered it in the above paragraphs, but I would also like to add something culture-wise. Since the Greek gods in the media can exist in various eras, one should not divorce them from the Greek element. The Greek gods are an expression of the ancient Greek collective, therefore it wouldn't make sense for them to have lost all touch with Greek ways of thought and attitude. If they were Americans, they wouldn't be WASPs, or Native Americans or Black Americans. They would be more like First Gen Greek Americans. They would love (to a healthy degree) and mention their culture because that's where they came from and that's what they represent.

#answered #representation #I haven't properly answered asks in a WHILE #Sorry about that

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