#If anyone has any questions let me know though I can promise no huge knowledge of the subject matter^^°
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
First attempt at fic binding
I’ve been admiring all examples of ficbinding/bookbinding that have crossed my dash lately and wanted to try my hand at it.
Though I did have some materials at hand, a full project seemed a little overwhelming, but a small test run seemed possible. Turns out, Of dogs and deer darcy fits perfectly into a 16 page single signature!
I followed this excellent tutorial by @armoredsuperheavy for preparing my printing file - that was easier and quicker than I expected, though I still needed to print it three times. In all cases entirely because of mistakes made by me, first I didn’t trust word and added empty pages in the wrong places (do really start with your title page on the first page of your document and then just keep going, word will really print it in the correct order! Who would have thought^^°).
For the next print everything was in order, but I had forgotten to fix my page numbers (the text started on page seven because I had forgotten to substract the front matter etc. Though I did manage to make word only start printing page numbers from the second page of the text after some effort - don’t skip the bit about creating sections, guys, even if you think you only need one because you’ve only got the one chapter!) I was willing to live with that, but then I messed up trying to cut off the page creep, so I had to reprint it anyways and thus fixed the page numbers at the same time. (My text starts now on page 3, and though I’m not entirely sure that’s correct either, it certainly looks way better than starting on page seven!)
I printed it on 80 gsm recycling printer paper and that has a nice look and feel to it for this small project.
We only had one firmer paper suitable for a backing/ at home, so I just went with that. It’s 160 gsm paper in the colourway ‘honey’. Embroidery floss I have enough to choose from; I went with a matching orange thread left over from an embroidery project.
For binding I followed this tutorial by @eat0crow and that needed two tries as well, again all because of me (I folded one page wrong and of course only noticed once everything was tied off!). I used two strands of embroidery floss, about twice as long as the back of my signature. (So that’s two strands separated from the six strand twist most embroidery floss is sold in for those of you not familiar with embroidery floss!) I used my awl to punch the holes and just a regular needle to sew it up (I tried using a curved needle at first, but that was very thick and would have widened my holes too much for my liking). The tension could probably be a little higher, but the pages don’t seem to be moving around, so I think it’s okay.
I went with seven holes just as in the tutorial, but I didn’t like the large gaps at the top and bottom from just setting them up equidistantly, and instead went for a 1,5cm gap at the top and bottom which left me with a very easy to measure 3cm between each hole.
I tied off the thread on the inside and cut off the excess and that’s my first ficbinding done! I’m a little annoyed by the page creep, but I definitely need better tools before I attempt cutting that off again!
This was a lot of fun and really actually quite quick to do! I’m torn now between creating an entire collection of little booklets like that for my shorter fic or whether I want to combine them into one, multi-signature anthology instead!
I’d definitely recommend a small single signature project like this if you just want to try out some of the techniques and the preparing of a file for signature printing! You don’t really need special equipment for this and still end up with a really nice result - at least I really like mine!
For reference, Of dogs and deer darcy is 2k long and I have one blank page left over at the end, plus a double blank page between my front matter and the text that you could potentially use up as well. Word signature length goes up to 40 pages, so you’ve definitely got some space for longer texts with this method (though I don’t think going up to a 40 page signature would be recommendable). But a 5k fic should definitely be doable even with just a 24 page signature! And you can always play around with font size and margins and the like, too.
I love my little fic booklet, so thank you very much to everyone who reblogged bookbinding posts over the last few weeks for introducing me to this craft! And thank you so much to all the wonderful people writing tutorials, you guys are the best!
#lessa says#ficbinding#bookbinding#I heartily recommend trying it out! It really is great fun!#This ended up a little long but I hope it'll encourage someone else to just try a small project like this one#and perhaps I can help you avoid my own mistakes!#If anyone has any questions let me know though I can promise no huge knowledge of the subject matter^^°
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?
So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....
Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....
So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.
And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”
And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”
And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”
And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.
Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.
“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.
“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”
Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”
“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids.
“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.
“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”
“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint?
What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?
Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower.
“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”
He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”
As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes.
“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”
Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.
“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”
He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”
“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”
Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”
Signal just snorts.
“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”
“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”
“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”
“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”
Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”
“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”
“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”
“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”
“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”
The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.
“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”
Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”
“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”
“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”
“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer.
“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”
“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”
“You did what?”
“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”
Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.
“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”
“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.
“Plus he bribes better.”
“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”
Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”
“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”
“Its called an homage, 4chan.”
“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."
Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.
“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”
Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”
Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.
“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”
“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”
Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”
“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”
“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.
Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”
“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”
“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.
“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”
“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”
Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest.
“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”
“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”
Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”
“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”
Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.
“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.
She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”
“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.
“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.
“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”
She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”
“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.
“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”
“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.
Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.
Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.
“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”
Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”
“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.
“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.
“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”
Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”
“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”
“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.
Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.
Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:
“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Why Deku's ultimatum to Overhaul is bad and he should feel bad
This is a bit outside my normal character wheelhouse, but I really need to get a rant about it off my chest, so here goes:
The Deku and Overhaul scene in Chapter 316 is terrible. It is fucking terrible.
I took a whirl around Overhaul's tag up through when the leaks first started dropping, but didn't immediately see anyone talking about why it's so fucking terrible, only concerns about letting Overhaul see Eri (understandable, but baseless, I think), some empathy towards Overhaul's current state (totally warranted!), some snark about Deku being So Done with Overhaul (haha because who cares about Deku's stated goal of trying to understand villains, right?), and, worst of all, some cooing about how Deku was being so compassionate and noble by offering Overhaul that olive branch.
Deku was not being compassionate and noble there. Deku was being arrogant, small-minded, and so shockingly cruel that it leaves me speechless that anyone could think his stunted and hard-hearted "offer" reflects well on him.
Deku's entire motivation in this arc has been wrestling with the realization that he might have been able to avoid some of the desperate battles of his past if he'd understood more about the villains he fought. He thought of three very specific people--Stain, Muscular, and Overhaul--as he reflected, "Maybe it wouldn't have had to go that way if I'd understood them better." He then thought of Gentle Criminal and La Brava, people who he’d come to some understanding of, who he’d been able to soften the conclusion of his battle with by going along with Gentle's fiction downplaying what had happened between them. The whole line of thought was intended to contextualize his newfound desire to save Shigaraki.
It soon became apparent that Stain, Muscular and Overhaul were, in fact, encounters that he would be revisiting, as a chance to see how he'd grown since he faced them, and as a dry-run on reaching out to villains that would give him a chance to practice ways he might reach out to Shigaraki when the time comes.
Well, based on his performance so far, the idea that Deku might be able to reach Shigaraki is laughable.
Firstly, his tentative questions to Muscular were ill-timed, all wrong for the middle of a battle. Muscular laughed him off, and I don’t think there’s any version of that scenario in which he would have done otherwise. Muscular was a huge threat, gleefully violent, disinterested in conversation about his history. Obviously, right in the middle of a fight was no kind of time to try to figure out what made the man tick! But Deku didn’t get the luxury of choosing the circumstances of that encounter, so yes, that battle probably was unavoidable, certainly if Deku wanted to stop him from doing further damage. But the idea that because Deku couldn't reach him right then and there, it's impossible for Deku--or, indeed, for anyone--to reach him at all is fallacious. Not every person has to be able to like or understand every other person. If Deku couldn't reach Muscular, so what? That doesn't mean it's impossible that someone might. And that means an obligation to treat Muscular like a human being, to afford him human rights, to not stop trying to find a way to rehabilitate him, even as you safeguard other people against him.
Deku's battle with Muscular being unavoidable was not some great triumph, for all that the narrative used it as an opportunity to let him show off how far he’d come in mastering One For All. In the way that matters, the way that Deku himself is currently trying to better, he hasn't advanced at all. Imasuji Goto represented his first test in the lead-up to saving Shigaraki, and Deku failed it.
His next trial was Overhaul.* Here, again, was someone who Deku was explicitly trying to understand. So what was the one thing that was most key to understanding Overhaul's current motivation? What was the one thing that Overhaul was ranting about out loud, incessantly? And what did Deku conspicuously fail to ask about? Overhaul's relationship with Pops.
This was so easy. So obvious. And Deku didn’t even try. All he could think about in the moment he was faced with that broken man was the little girl that man hurt--all thoughts of trying to understand where the man himself was coming from went right out the window, flown away in an instant. Instead of asking about why Overhaul feels the way he does, he demanded that Overhaul feel the way Deku wanted. He was essentially holding the only person Overhaul cared about hostage for the remorse he wanted Overhaul to feel.
I'm not going to try to armchair diagnose Overhaul with mental conditions. I don't have the educational background, and I'm positive Horikoshi doesn't. But it seems pretty clear that asking Overhaul to feel guilt about Eri was asking for something that he might not be capable of feeling, at least not without years of therapy that he was plainly not getting in Tartarus. And if Overhaul is not capable of feeling that guilt, then what does denying Overhaul his meeting actually solve? Who does it help? It doesn’t help Eri. Doesn’t help the old man. It certainly doesn’t help Overhaul himself. The only person who gets any satisfaction out of demanding remorse from Overhaul is Deku. And even Deku didn’t look like he found it very satisfying!
Another failure. A meaninglessly cruel, petty failure. A failure that served only to hurt a man who was already a live wire of agony, to sentence an old man to a coma he might never wake from without Overhaul's expertise, and to deprive Eri of the only actual family she had left.
And look, Pops might very well not be the ideal guardian for Eri, and I'm not saying he should get to "keep" her just because of the blood connection, but it's not like he cheerfully handed her over to Overhaul and walked out the door! He turned to Overhaul because he trusted Overhaul, because he wanted someone to help Eri and thought that maybe Overhaul could. And when Overhaul's thoughts about Eri took a very dark turn, Pops first denied his request about using her to further his research and then, when Overhaul kept pushing it, chose Eri over the kid he personally took in from the streets by telling Overhaul that he needed to leave the Shie Hassaikai if he couldn't muster any more respect for human life than that.
But, you know, Eri is so cute with Aizawa and stuff. And Pops was a criminal. Probably. Maybe? I mean, he was yakuza, anyway, so he obviously must have been a criminal even if the police never actually arrested him. Apparently, this means it's okay to just leave him in a coma forever! Even though Overhaul absolutely has enough medical expertise that letting him talk to a neurologist about what he did to Pops might enable them to figure out how to wake Pops up even without Overhaul being able to use his quirk to undo the damage. Hell, Overhaul is also the person alive who has the best handle on how Eri's quirk works. He might even know what her accumulation condition is. Maybe a better thing to ransom his access to Pops with would be Overhaul telling Aizawa everything he knows about Eri's quirk so Aizawa can use the knowledge to help her get a better handle on it.
But no. Obviously undoing some small part of the concrete harm Overhaul did was less important than how Deku felt about that harm.
And there's more! Oh, is there ever. I called Deku arrogant before; let me circle back to that.
Deku said that if Chisaki would feel the way Deku wanted him to feel, then Deku would uphold the promise to let Overhaul see Pops. But where in hell did Deku get off making that claim? Deku is a student. He's not a pro. He has no authority, medical, legal, carceral or otherwise. He has no say in where Overhaul goes or who he's allowed to see.
What the fuck? What the actual fuck? What kind of strings did Deku think he could pull that he could just casually make that claim without so much as going into a huddle with Hawks and Endeavor about it first? How inflated has this kid's sense of importance gotten that he made Overhaul that promise without even stopping to think about whether it was something he was in any position to ensure? It was such a bullshit ultimatum, not only because of how needlessly obstructive it was, but because it was so formless.
"If only you would feel a wish to apologize to Eri…" Okay, so what if Overhaul goes back to prison and, three days later, calls out to say, "Okay, I thought about it and I really feel like I want to apologize, now can I see Pops already?" Who gets to make that judgment call? Deku? Is he going to drop his faux-vigilante act and come visit Overhaul in prison just so he can squint at the man really hard to see if he's lying? Is Deku going to delegate the call to someone else? All Might? Hawks? A prison warden? A psychologist? Who? Who gets to be the one to say, "Okay, I think his remorse is genuine."
Then, once that call has been made, how many people have to arrange for Overhaul to be escorted out of prison and to whatever hospital Pops is in? Will Deku get to oversee that visit? Does he think he can overturn a warden declaring, "The scum doesn't deserve a visit, and the old man probably doesn't either," or a doctor protesting, "I'm not letting that man anywhere near my patient!"
The hell of it is, I think Deku could do all of that. He's got a close personal connection to All Might, who was basically a demi-god to this society for decades; he has the ear of the current top three heroes. Everyone is apparently convinced that the power to save this society rests solely in Deku's hands; I'm sure he could ask for anything he wanted. But the fact that that is the case suggests that this society is not even slightly turning away from its dependence on heroes dictating its morality. A hero having the sole right to dictate, out of hand, based on his personal feelings, the fate of people designated "villains" while the rest of society turns away is exactly what Shigaraki is angry about.
The only thing worse than Deku perpetuating the worst problems of hero society in an arc that's supposed to be about him finding a better way is that he didn’t even stop to think about it. It never even occurred to him that that was what he was doing. He thought that what he was asking of Chisaki was just and fair, and thus, he didn’t need to ask for any second opinions or permissions; he didn’t need to think about what would actually be feasible, about what was best for the people involved. He'd made his judgment call about a villain, and that's all there was to it. The villain could fall in line or--nothing. There isn't actually another choice. Hero's way or nothing
I hate it. I hate it. I don't care about whether Overhaul "deserves" to suffer; heroes making the cold decision that they will make him suffer is antithetical to everything a carceral system intended to rehabilitate prisoners stands for. And yes, Japan does at least claim on paper that the goal of incarceration in state hands is rehabilitation.
Restorative justice is superior to retributive justice. It's better for society and it's better for individuals. It is kinder, it is more compassionate. Retributive justice poisons people. It perpetuates suffering for no reason but moral grandstanding. Individuals are allowed to forgive or not forgive anyone they want, but a society should conduct itself with an eye to the long-term welfare of all of its people. That means that even the worst kinds of criminals still have human rights. It means not inflicting pain that serves no purpose.
I've gotten off-track here. Yes, I think that if Overhaul could feel regret about Eri, that would obviously be a positive development for his character. It'd hurt like hell, but it would be a hurt that indicated he was becoming a better person, a person who wanted to do more good, less ill, with his life and efforts. But you can't mandate that someone become a better person. No ultimatum handed down from on high is going to change Overhaul's heart. Telling someone, "I'll help you, but only if you only feel the way I want you to feel. Otherwise, you can just stay there and suffer," is not reaching out to help people who are suffering in the dark, which is, again, what Deku claimed he wanted to do, what he begged for Nagant's help in doing, the way he insisted to the vestiges that OFA should be used.
Deku writing people off because they don't conform to his expectations, because they can't be "good" the way he wants them to be, nor even "bad" in ways he can understand, is him failing to live up to his own expressed ideals. "I wish you'd feel bad about hurting people," wasn't enough to reach Muscular or Overhaul, and it damn well shouldn't be enough to reach Shigaraki.
Cruelty does not beget kindness. You cannot treat people with only callousness and severity, then condemn them for not taking the opportunity to grow. You have to give them opportunities to better themselves. For Overhaul, giving him an opportunity would be letting him help the man he wronged and then moving forward from there. Telling him to feel regret about Eri or else? That's doing nothing but sweeping his pain back under the rug.
---
*I have more or less exhausted my outrage over Lady Nagant in chats with friends, so I'll spare the rant on how disjointed, contradictory and ludicrous her turn was; the gist is "very, on all counts."
---
P.S. Anyone who says that Overhaul "has nothing left to live for" is being a level of ableist that defies description. Prosthetics exist. Assistive devices exist. Speech-to-text software exists. Overhaul is intelligent, driven and highly educated. Even if he never got prosthetics at all, there would still be things he could contribute to the world if he were motivated to do so. The better thing to do, though, would be to get the man some damn prosthetics, hook him up with the neurologist consulting on Pops' case, and let the two of them get on with the matter of waking up the old man.
P.P.S. Overhaul spent six months in solitary confinement. The United Nations considers solitary confinement exceeding 15 days to be a form of torture. Solitary confinement creates severe mental health issues and exacerbates existing ones. It frequently leads to a deadening of empathy, something Overhaul has in little enough amounts as it is. It is absurd to ask a man who's just come out of these conditions to "feel sorry for what you did to Eri," especially if you're planning to turn around and send him right back to solitary. Tartarus is inhuman, and the only reason more of the escapees aren't total wrecks like Overhaul is because Horikoshi clearly didn't bother to do the reading on the wide array of problems that those characters should be experiencing physically, mentally and socially.
#bnha#bnha critical#deku critical#bnha overhaul#chisaki kai#bnha muscular#my writing?#stillness has salt#bnha spoilers#one last salty post before I go back to working on things for characters and plots I actually like in this series#taking my life into my hands and posting this in the tags#but seriously#please please let Horikoshi realize#that Deku saying he wants to use OFA to save villains and then doing nothing but using OFA to beat them down again#is not Deku WINNING#it is Deku LOSING#saving someone takes more than rescuing them from a bullet that wasn't going to hit them anyway#if you don't have follow-through then you're just condemning people to fall through the cracks
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
The tit for tat game was well known to both of their top confidants and lieutenants because it had been going on ever since Natsu and Lucy broke up. Plus, it was hard to get around such knowledge considering most of them came from the same neighborhoods. These intrigues ebbed and flowed like waves. Months could pass by without any interactions between the two, at other times they’d go back and forth continuously until one of them finally gave up, and on the odd occasion ended in a huge fight that led to another round of ignoring each other. Up until now, it had been kind of amusing to watch them torture each other because it was better than a drama shows on television. But that didn’t mean Natsu, and Lucy’s friends didn’t worry about one or both being truly hurt one day because of it.
“It’s fine,” Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray chastised him after the soapland incident. The two men were at Natsu’s home after work hours and supposed to be relaxing. But clearly his friend didn’t want to drop the subject. “What’s the big deal?”
“Dude, you let yourself be blindfolded in a public space! Have you forgotten what kind of business we’re in? What if it had been an assassin instead?”
“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. We’re talking about Lucy’s company, and I trust their security measures because she has just as much to lose if a hit took place there.”
“Still, you should be more careful, at least take a bodyguard with you…”
Natsu’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “And what, so they can watch the show? We got any voyeurs on the payroll? Cause I can’t think of anyone here who’d wanna see another guy getting his balls fondled!”
Gray ran a hand down his face. “So not the mental image I wanted. You’re missing the point.” He sighed. “Natsu you are the head of this clan, and your safety is my top priority.”
“I get it, I get it,” Natsu drawled.
“And frankly,” Gray continued, “you’ve become distracted by her lately.”
“Tch! No, I haven’t!”
“Yeah, you are. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you drive by her place sometimes. I know you’ve followed her to that coffee shop she likes to frequent. But ever since her employee was robbed, things have escalated again.”
“You’re imagining things and apparently spying on me. I’m just keeping an eye on the competition.”
“Watching over you is my job! That’s not spying.” Gray crossed his arms. “And oh, it’s no doubt that you’re keeping an eye on her. That’s why you went to Katsunuma’s party and to soapland too. The problem is you’re getting sloppy and sloppy gets people killed.”
Natsu groaned. “Are you done yet? We’re supposed to be enjoying the baseball game, not psychoanalyzing my life.”
“Almost.” Gray placed a hand on his friends’ knee and leaned in. “Natsu, you’ve been chasing that tail since high school, just lock her down and convince her to work together already.”
Natsu snorted a laugh. “Gray we all grew up together, so what in all these years makes you think that’s a possibility? You know damn well Lucy’s not a woman you can control without her consent.” Natsu knew that, and frankly he loved that part of her. In fact, it made him even more fired up whenever he thought about it, just like a treasure you don’t just find but must win at the end of a game. “I’ll find a way, some day.”
“Well until that day arrives, could you promise me you’ll be more cautious?”
“Fine, fine,” Natsu waved his hand. “I’ll back off of Lucy for now.”
“Good.” Gray relaxed back onto his recliner thinking the drama was over.
“However, there is a new guy I want surveillance placed on.”
“Who?”
“The bartender from the party.”
Gray groaned. “Seriously? Why? He’s just a bartender!”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Was he spiking the drinks or something? Dealing drugs at the party?”
“Maybe.”
Gray huffed. “You really gonna try that? Do I look like an idiot? This is just straight jealousy talking.”
“I don’t care! I want someone to dig up what they can on the guy!”
“No, what you wanna know is if he fucked Lucy that night!”
Natsu jumped up with his fists clenched. “Fuck you!”
“Fuck you too!” Gray stood up and matched his boss’s energy. “Unless you give me a damn good reason to check into him, I’m not wasting my guy’s time! You might be the boss, but don’t you fucking forget who you’re talking to! I’m not some punk off the streets!”
Realizing he was taking things too far, Natsu sat back down. “Sorry.”
Gray sighed and plopped back down too. “I only joined because you asked me to and you’re my best friend, then I helped you build this new empire, so I’m just as invested in protecting it as you are. But Natsu, personal emotions have led to the downfall of many in this business, and as a friend, I’ll check you any time I think you’re going to far.”
“You’re right…” Natsu sighed too. “She just gets me so worked up.”
“Don’t I know it,” Gray laughed, but stopped when Natsu glared at him. “Sorry, it slipped out.”
“But I swear, there’s something suspicious about him. When he saw me, I thought he just reacted because he thought I was Lucy’s boyfriend or something, but the more I think about it, he might have recognized me.”
“Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious either.”
“True. But the look in his eyes just made me wonder.”
“Alright…” Gray groaned, “if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have someone do some digging. So, you said he has orange hair and glasses, and the name on his tag was Loke?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s an unusual name, shouldn’t be too hard to check on.”
Over the course of a couple of weeks, Gray sent out feelers for any information on this Loke guy. Katsunuma junior gave them their first small lead that the bartender had worked the party through a local food catering company. That catering company was a legitimate business who had both full-time staff as well as independent contractors brought in per event as needed. Loke had been one of the latter. From there Gray obtained a last name, de Lioncourt.
According to his sources at the local precinct, Loke de Lioncourt had no rap sheet, no prior dealings with police, and for all they knew was an average citizen. The man’s Line blog profile listed him as a 28-year-old, Japanese/French American, model and bartender, and it was filled with pictures from events, parties, as well as many gorgeous women— none of which contained Lucy. But as Gray trolled through the man’s feed, he did come across one person he recognized and passed the information along to Natsu.
“Wow, she’s in a bunch of photos,” Natsu mumbled as he scrolled through the blog.
“Well, considering Cana’s reputation are you surprised. Parties and alcohol are the two things that woman lives for.” Gray laughed. “Now see, this makes sense to me. Lucy and him, not so much.”
“Tch… still pisses me off he even tried.”
“Lucy’s a free woman, she can go out with whoever she wants to.”
“We’ll see about that,” Natsu mumbled low.
“What was that?” Gray asked with a raised brow.
“Nothing.”
“Better be nothing, cause this is a dead end. He’s just a flirty bartender. It’s how they make tips.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Natsu sat back in his chair. “So, back to business. What this I heard about some missing stock?”
“Oh, right. One of the warehouse clerks noticed a shortage, but when I checked with Yura, he said the books were fine. I had him show it to me, and it appears the numbers were just inverted by accident. So, instead of 185 kilos, it’s supposed to be 158 kilos.”
“Did you talk to the clerk again? Does he have any history of messing up like this?”
“Nah, he’s one of our better clerks.”
“Just keep an eye on it.”
“Sure thing, boss. By the way, have you seen Gajeel today?” Gray questioned. “I haven’t seen him.”
“He called me this morning said he wasn’t feeling well, thinks he ate something bad for dinner last night.”
“Tch, seriously? Thought he had an iron stomach?”
Natsu shrugged. “Must’a been some bad sushi or something. We ain’t got much happening today, so it’s fine. Anything else? I got some stuff I need to finish.”
Gray tapped his chin. “Just a reminder you have an appointment with our tech guy dropping by later this week to go over some upgrades on the system.”
“Like I’m supposed to know anything about that stuff, it’s what I pay him for.”
“You still gotta approve it,” Gray shrugged and took his leave.
Once the man was completely out of the office, Natsu opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a nondescript box he’d hidden inside. He grinned to himself. It was time to make another special delivery. Even though he’d told Gray he was backing off the whole Lucy and Loke subject, there was no way he was gonna let it slide. Natsu didn’t care if the man seemed legit, and he wasn’t the first nor would probably be the last that he’d eventually scared away. And besides, being a Yakuza boss had a lot of down times too, easily filled with having a little fun.
Today’s little care package was being sent to Lucy by a courier service and Natsu just had to drop it off to the delivery company. Just a normal company like Kuroneko Yamato so it wouldn’t rouse too many suspicions. It was turning into a fun game for him just coming up with ideas of what he could do to rile Lucy up or irritate this Loke guy. Natsu chuckled to himself. So far, his favorite prank was a box of small sized condoms and a bottle of enhancement pills that he’d had delivered to Loke while on the job at another party. He’d even snuck in to watch it delivered, gaining a good laugh when the man took a peek in the box and frowned at its contents.
It was childish, but Natsu didn’t care. Every day for two weeks now, something new was sent to Loke. Random gifts like children’s candy to a toy gun, a big bottle of lubricant wrapped in a bow, a week’s worth of meals sent for lunch one day, even an empty box with rocks inside it just to drive the man crazy wondering who in the world was sending them. Lucy too wasn’t immune to his pranks, though hers had a different feel to them. Flowers with no note attached. Tickets to a canceled show he made up. A supposed dinner invite from Loke that wasn’t real— okay that was to test her, but she didn’t fall for it. And today’s little care package fit right into his prank scheme.
Natsu dropped off the package at a Kuroneko Yamato office with the address instructions already filled out and paid the company’s employee extra to keep their mouths shut. ‘She’s gonna kill me one day,’ he laughed to himself as he rode back to his office. ‘If it’s suffocation by her boobs it wouldn’t be a bad way to go!’
“Anymore stops sir?” The driver asked Natsu.
“Nope. Back to the office.”
He looked at his watch. The package should be arriving at Lucy’s office within the hour. Give or take another to open it, and by 4pm he would be receiving another phone call. Maybe he won’t answer it. Oh, that would piss her off even more! ‘Well, if she’d just take the hint...’
The afternoon was supposed to be mellow at headquarters that day. No shipments, and no appointments. But when Natsu got back, another general in the organization named Jellal Fernandez came to his office to inform him of a problem. One of the new local restaurants in their territory was refusing to cooperate and he wanted to know how Natsu wanted it handled. They were right in the middle of discussing it, when Natsu’s office door flew open with a loud bang!
In stomped Lucy who immediately threw a box at his head, causing Natsu to duck and Jellal to pull his gun.
“Don’t!” Natsu screamed at his general and motioned for him to stand down, to which the man complied. “Do you have a death wish Lucy!”
“Get. Out.” She snapped at the general. “Get out! This is between me and your boss!”
Jellal looked to Natsu, who nodded his head to scram. “I got this, don’t worry.” The man holstered his gun and left, but Natsu could see he’d stayed right outside of the now closed door.
“I take it you didn’t like the gift,” Natsu pretended to stay calm.
“Gee, me throwing it at you give you that impression? I know it’s you sending all these damn deliveries to me and Loke. That needs to stop now!”
He crossed his arms and scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Play dumb all you want. Just stop! Why are you even doing this?!”
“Take a guess,” he sneered back.
“I could’ve sworn we were adults now, but apparently I’m the only one who grew up. Stay out of my love life Natsu!”
“So, you admit you’re sleeping with the guy!”
“That’s none of your damn business! I can fuck whoever I want!”
“Not as long as I’m alive,” Natsu growled back.
Lucy crossed her arms. “That could be arranged.”
“Is that a threat?!”
“Yes! If you don’t stay out of my love life!”
“A woman shouldn’t be sleepi—”
“Don’t you finish that sentence!” Lucy grabbed a stapler that was within reach and chucked it at Natsu’s head. “Stop trying to control me!”
“Are you crazy?!”
At that moment, Gray barged into the room. He’d heard the screaming from the other side of the office, and when he got close enough to see Jellal standing outside the door, he became alarmed. Why would a general leave Natsu vulnerable! The man told him their boss told him to leave, but as the sounds inside escalated, Gray couldn’t wait anymore.
“Stop it!!” Gray got between them. “What are you two doing! Lucy you shouldn’t be here!”
“Then tell your damn boss to leave me the fuck alone!” Lucy spat back. “Ask him how he’s been harassing Loke and me!”
Gray turned to his boss with a groan. “Natsu, we talked about this!”
“Tell Gray what you been doing!” Lucy pressed. “Show him the stupid packages you send!”
“What packages?” Gray looked to Lucy, then repeated the question as he stared at his boss. “What packages?”
“Tch,” Natsu crossed his arms, “it’s not even that bad.”
Lucy stomped over to where the box fell and picked it up, pulling the contents out. “Bullshit!” She snapped as she held up a very racy, red nightie with flame prints, a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a large dildo. “See this shit?!” Lucy shook the floppy latex toy at Gray before chucking it to the ground again. “He includes messages too,” then handed the man a folded piece of paper.
Gray read it aloud, “to make up for what playboy lacks. Had it custom made to my size wink wink. Ugh, seriously man,” he tossed the letter.
Natsu shrugged. “I was just having fun.”
“This is the yakuza, not a daycare!” Gray snaps. “I’m not here to babysit the boss so he stops harassing the competition! There’s more important business to worry about!”
“That’s right listen to Gray,” Lucy sneered.
Gray turned to her. “Oh, you ain’t innocent either, so don’t even try it. You both do things to purposely rile the other up and get mad when there’s consequences. Stop it!” He looked back and forth between the two. “Just stop it already!”
Natsu and Lucy looked away from the man with scowls on their faces. Neither wanted to admit he was right.
“Jellal,” Gray called out. When the man entered, he instructed him to escort Lucy out of there. “Next time, just call me instead. It’s best you two just stay away from each other. Got it?!”
“Yeah,” Lucy grumped.
“Got it?!” Gray questioned his boss.
“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled.
“Fucking like high school,” Gray ran a hand down his face in irritation. “You two need therapy.”
#nalu#nalu au#nalu fan fic#nalu fan fiction#natsu dragneel#lucy heartfilia#ch 6#we'll take back heaven#petri808
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
atsumu x reader; motion sickness - chapter three.
summary; atsumu wants to get to know reader better, and somehow convinces her to take him to the ice rink
content warnings; nsfw content, public sex, unprotected sex (nothing will come from it), dom/sub undertones
a/n; i hope u enjoy!! i think from here on out i get more into the swing of things and much prefer my writing so i hope u do too! reblogs/thoughts are v appreciated <3
ao3 | series masterlist | main masterlist | 18+ minors dni
Choosing to wake up alone means the bed is cool and spacious. You can roll over and feel nothing. Sheets fold against your body, swallowing you whole. No need to tug them away, they are all for you. You push the thoughts away too, the idea that there could have been a warmth to tuck into. All throughout your routine you ignore how someone else could fit into it.
Breakfast alone stings a little more, the hotel full of families and teams. You’re more aware now at the buffet, of the many muscular men that stand around in groups. They pile plates high of the day's energy. Wildebeest at the watering hole, you note to yourself. If there was anyone to eye roll at, you would. You notice you don’t see a certain head of toned blond hair. Not that you’re looking for it, you remind yourself.
People watching is best done on your own however, and your eyes flit between young couples, children spilling honey down their chins, and people desperate for the relief of caffeine.
Alone is safe and comforting. An observer, as Faiz would often call you. Watching and analysing and playing with the stories in your mind. You can live through the honeyed child, the tired parent. Give them a job, a goal, a life. It’s fun to enter their space, if for a moment.
The moment ends as Faiz breaks into your thoughts, fragments of faux futures shatter around you. “I have a challenge for you today.”
“Oh?”
“I want you to trust me,” the cheeky glint in his eye makes you want to do anything but.
“You already know I do.” His overjoyed energy is infectious, and your morning of distraction in other people’s brains has been replaced. You can feed off him to feel full. “What are you planning?”
“So, before you ask he’s down,” he begins, grinning at your raised brow, “but I think you should work with Makito today.” You chew on your toast for a minute, thinking through what Faiz is really asking. Or telling, as is more often when it comes to your coach.
“It’s for p—”
“Passion, you dumbass.”
“—ssion, isn’t it? Oi.” you go to flick his forehead, but he’s too quick and instead gets yours. “Ow, Faiz. Insulting and hurting me? Your favourite skater?”
“My favourite skater you may be, but you also need to score well. And I’ve got a plan.”
He drones on for a while, about how working with Makito is going to help create an environment where you’re performing for someone in particular. If you are embers, he will try and find someone or something to breathe the fire into you. You see how much he’s thought about this, and hey, you’re willing to give it a go if it might help.
As you make your leave from the hotel restaurant, you bump into something. Firm and tall and moving in such an ecstatic manner that it’s almost difficult to believe it’s so early in the morning. The someone grabs your shoulders, almost picking you up to move you to his side. You fluster, and they lean down to you.
“Sorry, sorry! Apparently way too hungry for breakfast,” his voice is deep but keeps the same energy as his movements. “Wait, do I know you?”
And then you see it. Another flashback to your night of heavy drinking. A shock of white and black hair, and bird-like features. “Barely, I think. I was drinking with your,” you’re not sure what term to settle on, “teammate, I think? Atsumu?”
“Yes, Tsum Tsum’s girl! Hey!”
“I’m not—”
“She’s not—”
And there he is. Sun gold hair still damp from an early shower. He looks like the warmth you were missing that morning. You didn’t miss it, you correct your runaway thoughts. It’s just a feeling you were once used to.
“Oh. Awkward. Well, breakfast calls!”
Like that the owl flees the nest.
“I should get going,” you say, shuffling past him as an attempt to run from the atmosphere. You don’t need to talk about it, or what you did. Hookups are a lot easier when you’re not both staying at the same hotel.
“I meant what I said, by the way,” he calls after you, waiting a second for you to turn. You shouldn’t turn around. Not if you don’t want to give him the chance to offer again. But it’s like his voice has a command over you, and you pause briefly. He rewards you with the easy curl of his lips and the way it shows in his cheeks. A small flash of hope in his eyes. “I’ll teach you a spike for a spin.”
At least there’s someone for you to roll your eyes at now.
“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“Glad ya keepin’ up.”
Atsumu is quickly realising that you don’t quite speak your mind. It’s always you won’t take no, you don’t have to. It’s so far never been, I’m interested, I want that. There’s something about the way your brain is wired that makes him curious. Not that he would tell you about the other women that have flit through his life, but his type usually falls under demanding, high strung. Osamu would tease him that he dates reflections of himself. They could barely be considered dates, if he really looks into it. It’s always to bars and parties, his ‘date’ enjoying the expensive alcohol or his teammates.
Maybe he does have a jealous streak. When he goes for those who throw themselves at him, he never quite expects them to do the same to his teammates in turn. It’s nice to be wanted though, if only as a stepping stone.
If you are not demanding, it would only be natural to assume you are easy or effortless. But you are not that either. You need persuasion and nudging to agree to the course you want anyway.
You are a curiosity, Atsumu thinks as you enter the rink together. His practice isn’t till late, your schedules are so perfectly mis-aligned.
The not-boyfriend from the bar is here too, pushing off the seats to greet you. Atsumu stays back and lets you explain the situation, giving a polite nod when Faiz is introduced as your coach. He relaxes more when Faiz gives him a grin, one that spills with knowledge of late night escapades.
“So, you’re the guy?”
“Am I the guy?” he questions you, and as your eyes once again move to roll, he speaks again, “y’know, your eyes might get stuck like that one day.”
“I told her the same thing!” Faiz laughs, patting Atsumu’s back. “She’s always doing it too, as if I’m so below her.”
“Both of you should stop talking.” It’s cute, he thinks. Your little pout that you probably think looks oh so stern. Brows knitted and a finger to your temple. A kindergartner would laugh in your face.
“Faiz, I hate to break it to you. But she didn’t deny it.” His hand squeezes Faiz’s shoulder, a look of woe playing on his face. The coach responds with a hand clasped to his chest, stepping back as if your words have shot him.
He mutters your name under his breath, as if shocked by the revelation. “You’ve been using me all this time? And here I thought we were friends.” Faiz looks between you, lips trying so hard to fight a smile, and the beaming blonde next to him. “And him? You’re using him for se—”
Your eyes widen, and your hand immediately goes to slap your palm over Faiz’s mouth. “Okay! Okay, I get it! Very funny Faiz, very funny Atsumu. You’re both first class athletes and comedians.”
There’s murmuring that comes from the fingers covering Faiz, and you open them just enough for Faiz to let you, “was it any good at least?” before you close them again.
Atsumu goes to open his mouth, goes to prod more fun in your direction. But your hand goes from Faiz’s mouth, to his hand, and you’re pulling him and his words away.
“Please not in the locker room,” Faiz calls in your general direction, to which you pull your signature middle finger back at him.
“Are we gonna do it in the locker room?” Atsumu asks, praying the slight element of hope is hidden by the teasing. How easy it would be to guide your hand in his, move it towards your waistband.
“You wish.” He does.
“I like your coach.” Atsumu leans against the rows of lockers, watching you swap shoes for skates, “seems more fun than mine.”
“He knows me better than anyone. And he’s honest, doesn’t hide anything,” you speak as if it's routine. A question that has an automatic answer. “I already regret letting you two meet.”
“Oh c’mon, Golide,” he trails after you, admiring how on earth you can walk so comfortably on blades. “We both know you enjoy it.”
“You need me to say it?” you question as you step on the ice, whisking away before he can respond.
Maybe he doesn’t need you to say it, but he certainly wants you to. There’s elements of your attitude that Atsumu wants to learn. Why you very clearly have walls up, and how he can seep into the cracks.
Faiz comes to stand next to him, both of them watching as you move across the ice. Now you do seem effortless. Atsumu is sure it takes huge effort for you to push yourself across the ice, but somehow it looks like you prefer it to walking.
“So,” Faiz begins, and Atsumu knows the tone of the protective friend, “you like her?”
As much as you can after hanging out with someone a couple of times. Atsumu knows he’s become curious. Is that liking you? It sounds like something a teenager would say. So far he knows he likes aspects of you. Your smile, first of all. The banter between you both is easy, it keeps him on his toes. Your moans and sarcasm are both equally sweet.
“Something like that.”
Faiz hums thoughtfully and Atsumu thinks he’s not going to do it, and that he doesn’t need to make any promises. “Just be nice to her. She deserves that.”
It’s a weird way to phrase don’t hurt her, but Atsumu nods nonetheless. Just like that the men are back to smooth and easy jokes and discussions of career.
Eventually another man, the other not-boyfriend Atsumu recalls, joins them, and Faiz bids his goodbyes. They both go towards you on the rink, and so your new lesson begins.
Makito is almost giddy to work with you. His movements are too quick and too erratic for you to feel calm. Your head is usually clear in practice. Knowing where the exact places your skates should be, the extension of your hands. But it’s fogged doing it with someone else, as well as knowing two pairs of eyes are watching.
You had begun by simply holding on to one another, doing the most basic of motions to make sure you were working together well, and that no one was going to trip over the other. Deeming it a success, Faiz had moved onto the next challenge.
“Remember, this is all about feeling with Makito,” he instructs, putting both your hands on each other, “I want to see you responding to him. Acting the part.” Pretending to be in love is what he really means.
You both move across the ice, you’re meant to be jumping into Makito’s lap and the two of you leaning back to balance the weight. The idea is to make it look sexy, alluring, erotic. All words that you think far from describe you.
From the edge of the rink Atsumu wolf whistles, and he imagines the eye roll, although he’s not sure he likes the idea of that so much when you’re seated in someone else's lap.
“Makito, how did that feel?” Faiz quizzes.
He winces, looking sheepishly towards you before he answers. “Like she thought she was going to fall.”
“Did you think you were going to fall?” He directs the question your way, but you think he knows the answer. Curse him understanding you inside and out.
“I- I don’t know. Trying so hard to look romantic I didn’t think about much else.”
It goes on like that for long enough that you’re both sweating. The same song plays on repeat as you go through set movements again and again. It makes it feel like both so much and so little time is passing. Even Atsumu is just flicking through his phone now. Why did you say yes to him coming again? You know Faiz can feel your agitation, the way you bristle each time he instructs you to look a certain way. If trying your best was enough, you’d be done by now.
“Go. Take a break,” Faiz instructs. He’ll give you some time to cool off as he always does, letting you work it out isolated. It’s what works best for your brain. A whole other routine, walking away and turning music up far too loud. Stewing in it all. Absorbing yourself in the negative feelings until you can push them away or find something to distract yourself from them.
It feels like you should be alone this time. Too many wrong buttons pushed and you could snap at someone only to regret it. Too bad for you that you said yes to your newest irritant.
“You looked awesome” Atsumu begins, looking up from whatever feed he’s swiping through. He can barely finish the sentence before your face causes him to falter.
There are two pairs of steps echoing down the hallway, the creak of a rusty hinge swinging twice. Hopes of a lonesome sanctuary in the locker room are dashed.
“Hey, you okay?”
His face is full of concern, which puzzles you. Your fingers struggle to unlace your shoes. Must you struggle with everything when it comes to your profession? Maybe a distraction would be better.
“Goldie?”
The nickname bounces around in your mind, coupled with I’ve got you. Your shoes are off and next comes your sweater. Tugging it over your head and discarding it unceremoniously on the floor.
“Do you need anything?”
Perspiration still clings to your body, coming down from your workout on the ice. He is standing there, so big, so broad. It’s like a magnet is drawing you closer. He is a distraction wrapped in an aggravatingly handsome face and strong body.
“Yes, I do.”
His eyes flick down to your chest, heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat. Not the time, Atsumu. You’re looking up at him through your lashes, and his lips part, thinking about- not the time. He thought it was annoyance in your eyes, but the darkness seems to hold a different weight. Fists are balled by your side, and he’s not sure if you’re holding yourself back from punching a wall or something else.
“Fuck me, Atsumu.”
“What?” His brain is short circuiting, he thinks. ‘It’s not the time’ he repeats again and again. He’d promised to be nice to you and suddenly he’s not sure if that means talking you down or engaging with you in all the ways he wants to.
“You wanted to, right? Just fuck me.”
All of your body language is screaming at him to grab you and pull you in. Your palm crosses against his pectorals, your fingers curling to tease your nails down past his naval.
“You want me to beg Atsumu?” On tip toes you can push your body against his. Low and whispered against your voice is at the shell of his ear. “You want me to say please?”
The tensing of his muscles underneath his shirt makes you not want to pull away. You want Atsumu to want you. No, you want him to need you. To show you that you’re good for something. So you fall back on your feet, starting to turn away, heart dropping for a moment when he stays still. Maybe you’re the desperate one.
But then his hand grips around your arm, pushing you firmly against the row of lockers. His mouth crushes yours before you can even think of teasing him. Gripping under your ass, he brings your legs around his waist. You smile into the kiss as you notice he’s already half hard.
He almost growls into your sigh, realising that he does not have easy access to you like this. Slow ruts against you, easily bringing you against his crotch as Atsumu keeps you stuck between his body and the lockers. He needs convincing to let you away from him for even a second. “Say it again.”
“Please Atsumu. Please fuck me.”
It tips him over, sends him into some sort of feral need for your cunt. Dropping and rotating you, pushing you back up against the cool metal.
Fingers rip at your leggings and panties, rolling them just far enough down your ass. You think he may manage to leave you with bruises when he grabs your hips again. He is always on you, whether it’s his tongue on your neck, his hands pulling down your cami to cup your tits.
Your hands scramble behind you, desperately trying to pull at his pants. He’s quick to entertain you, bringing them down and tugging his cock a few times.
Foreplay be fucking damned. You think you’re wet enough, or at least the stretch and burn of Atsumu buried inside you will be enough to sedate your over active mind. “I need you inside me. I n- need you to fill me, ‘Tsumu.”
As much as Atsumu wants to treasure your body, give you all that you deserve, the pure desire that fills your voice drives him into a new space entirely.
His head presses at that tight ring of muscle, letting himself be lathered in your slick. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes it between his teeth to let it slowly drop on his cock. You whine, begging more and more. Pushing yourself back on him as best you can with your waistband keeping your thighs pressed together.
Atsumu’s thumb pushes his spit around your already stretched hole, then moving down to press against your clit. It’s enough for him to fully sheath himself, giving you the delicious burn you were hoping for.
You’ve never been fucked like this. Never been needy enough to beg for it, and fuck, maybe it’s because Atsumu seemed so eager to make you feel good before. Maybe it’s that you know you don’t have to feel anything more than his length pushing against your satin walls again and again. You’ll go home, and all the deranged things your mind made you do can stay here.
Words fall from your lips, you’ve been the one talking- begging so far. “Harder, please, please, please, fuck yes.” One large hand is holding your elbows together behind you, the other plucking at your nipples or passing over your clit. He can’t make his mind up, each one drawing a new sound from you until you're babbling under him. Going from nothing to having Atsumu smacking his hips against your ass, oversensitive everywhere as you’re grabbed and played with.
“Yeah? You can’t even beg for it anymore, huh?”
Glazed over eyes look back at him, as if his cock has been a complete shock to your system.
But you’re defiant. “P-Please,” he makes out through your gritted teeth.
It makes him think of things you both could do. Things that need safe words and more trust than he feels you’re willing to give.
He’s close, feeling his abdomen and thighs tingle and tighten. There’s some part of him that wants you to be open to ideas, open to the trust that they’d need. He would need it.
Quick thrusts slow. Atsumu moves deep and slow, his hand letting your arms go and wrapping under your chest. He almost fully pulls out before driving back in, leaving you gulping for air in short gasps. His fingers massage your clit, and instead of mocking you he’s whispering encouragement.
“You feel so good, so, hah, s’fuckin’ good. Wan— wanna make you feel it all, wanna make you feel good.”
You don’t even realise your satin walls are fluttering around him, but Atsumu does. The tightness of your pussy around him makes him want to fill you up with his cum, and then he realises. No condom. Fuck. He looks at your fucked out face, eyebrows raising in bliss.
More whispered praise against your ear, and now you can feel it too. The coil in your stomach that’s making you tighten, making you open your eyes in surprise. He’s not saying it, but all you can think about is Atsumu saying “I’ve got you” because you’re so sure he does. Holding you up and close to his body, wanting you to also feel the pleasure you can see etched across his handsome features.
Before you realise it’s happening you're falling, spasming around his cock. Repeating “‘Tsumu, ‘tsumu, ‘tsumu” in a rapturous melody. Moans echo around the locker room, and Atsumu’s pulling out from between your plush folds, leaving you to clench around nothing. His cum coats your ass, jerking himself off to completion, wishing so hard it was your cunt milking every drop from him.
Slow and sweet kisses pepper your shoulder and neck, the cheek that isn’t pressed into the metal. “You feel good?” he says softly between pecks.
“Yeah, I… I needed that.” His thumbs massage into your hips, as if he’s working out the bruises that will definitely be there tomorrow. It’s another show of care that leaves you unsettled. “Feel better without your cum on my ass.”
Atsumu lets out a low chuckle, and he steps back to admire his work. A pretty painting, if he says so himself. Tucking himself away, he has to leave you standing awkwardly to run and grab tissues. There’s sincerity in how he cleans you up too, not quick and hurried as he should be. His fingers smooth over the curve of your ass, leaving more kisses in his wake.
Once you’re clean, he neatens your hair and pulls your leggings back up. You smooth out your smudged mascara and you both head back towards the rink. It’s too quiet for too long, but before you can interrupt the silence he does.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Hmm?” you hum.
“You said you needed it. Frustrated about something?”
The cold hits you both as you push open the doors into the rink. Makito and Faiz nod at you both before going back to their conversation. Probably about how much you suck at anything close to passion, you think, the feelings you’d just managed to smother becoming too quick to resurface.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” His eyebrows deepen and his brown eyes are full of so much sincerity you can’t help but go on. “So, I did pairs skating for a while, like what you saw earlier.”
He lets out little hums as you talk, reassuring notes of interest. “But then I moved to singles, and lost the spark and, uh—”
“The passion.” Fuck Faiz and his fucking passion. Atsumu grins at him for a moment, and you’re waiting for the onslaught of teasing to begin, but it doesn’t. His eyes return to you, his smile stays, dropping from cheeky into something softer.
“That. Passion, the desire, the,” you gesture wildly, “the stuff that turns it from spins and jumps into a performance.”
“And that’s what you were doing with your friend?” Atsumu points at Makito.
“The lift? Yeah, seeing if I’ve still got it in pairs.”
In a flash Atsumu is lifting you for the second time today, grabbing you by the waist despite your “hey!” Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the breath being pulled from you as he manhandles you easily.
One large palm spreads across your back, and your body is running on it’s latest experience, curving back. Is he also thinking about what just happened, thinking about how he was going to take you like this? His face still holds onto something dark, his eyes lingering with lust. You pray your own doesn’t betray you, that you can feign it as surprise.
“That’s it! That’s the look!” Atsumu and you both turn to your coach.
His eyes wide and excited, both hands pointing at your face. Faiz is almost jumping up and down on the spot. “That’s what will make people notice! You did it!”
Your cheeks warm, watching Atsumu try to lean back also, replicating what he saw Makito do earlier. He’s strong and beautiful and everything you’re sure many women want. But with his eyebrows drawn in deep concentration, trying so hard to be elegant… He looks utterly ridiculous. Like that you’re giggling, hands having to loop around his neck to keep yourself from laughing your way to the floor.
You sound so good when you laugh. The challenge of getting it out of you is what first caught Atsumu. A smile made his drunken self feel gooey. Now sober, the noise of you trying to even your breathing as you give him a full bodied laugh. It makes him want to cup your face, marvel at your eyes creasing, the way the corners of your lips curl.
“And it’s gone again.” Faiz sighs, but it’s warm and full of so many emotions but not disappointment.
Eyes full of sweet browns and honey catch you off guard. He’s looking too intently at you. Your smile fades, body going more rigid in his hands. Atsumu lets you drop, making sure you’re steady before his hands move from your waist.
Practice starts back up, Atsumu watching from the sidelines. He can’t hear the discussion well enough between the trio on the ice, and soon his attention splits back between you and his phone.
His thumbs move quickly, typing out a ‘you’ll never believe what just happened’ to the MSBY group chat before he pauses, and presses against the backspace. To share what just happened feels wrong. It felt a little too personal. You needed him for a moment. If he was to tell the team, it’d be a fun anecdote. There’s the chance they could piece together it was with you, and if he can convince you to come to a game…
Atsumu doesn’t want to mess it up.
So instead his fingers take him to a different message, and start to type again.
Me // 11:21am
>> oi, i got a question for u
Samu🍙 // 11:24am
>> yes you need to wash everywhere. including there.
Me // 11:24am
>> ok
>> guess i’ll ask someone else
>> scrub
Samu🍙 // 11:24am
>> don’t be a baby
>> what’s up
His quick typing stops for a moment, watching you jump into Makito’s lap once more, and then the three of you are grinning and high fiving.
Me // 11:25am
>> have u ever liked someone
>> like liked
Samu🍙// 11:25am
>> are you 12 years old
>> i’ve had literal girlfriends
>> i’m trying to get ready for the lunch rush and you’re asking me about crushes?
Me // 11:25am
>> is a few days too soon to know
Samu🍙// 11:26am
>> depends i guess
>> you like someone?
Atsumu doesn’t know how to respond to that, so just hits the call button.
“I told you I’m tryna be prepared,” Osamu immediately berates his older brother, talking about how there’s only so much time before he’s going to be swarmed.
“Well, if ya shut it for a minute, I’d be able to talk.”
“Fine. So who’s my favorite twin crushin’ on?” he asks the question in a song, making Atsumu regret the call in the first place.
“I’m your only twin, dumbass,” he mutters, interrupting Osamu before they go off topic again. “I don’t know if I like her. We’ve hooked up a few times,” a gross comes from down the line, “but she’s just cool. I don’t know, dude. I just want to get to know her more.”
“So what does it matter if you like her? Just get to know her.” Coming from Osamu it seems simpler. Sometimes his thoughts can run off, get muddled and confused and overwhelming. But Osamu’s always been the calmer, the one who can keep him on track and call him out when he needs it. If Atsumu is a boat in a storm, Osamu is the anchor.
A few more words are spoken back and forth, general housekeeping to know what’s happening in each other's lives, before Osamu has to work, and Atsumu is left with his thoughts. There’s still that annoying doubt at the back of his mind. A little worm that’s dug so far down, even with someone else helping it’s hard to get out.
What if you don’t like him?
You apologise for his cold rosy cheeks and how long he had to sit and watch. He reassures you that he had fun, the both of you headed back outside into the heat of the city. You fall into place easily next to one another, walking by the river rather than ordering a car back to the hotel. Atsumu had persuaded you, protesting that without the warmth of the sun, how could he ever regain feeling in his nose.
“Next time you’ll have to get me on the ice.”
“You already impressed Faiz so much, are you sure you’re ready for the career change?”
“I’m sure a publicist could work it,” he’s quick to respond, holding hands out wide in front of the both of you, “I can see it now. The great Miya Atsumu conquers the ice skating world. Is there anything he can’t get gold in?”
“Real humble, Miya,” you say with an exasperated smile.
“Miya?” he echoes, “and here I thought I was gonna get a nickname.”
You’re either looking up at him with a quizzical stare or the afternoon sun is in your eyes. Either way Atsumu notes that it’s a cute expression, one that brings out the flecks of colour in your irises.
Pausing for a moment, people shuffle around you, going about their days in the city. Bringing his lips to your ear, you can feel the width of his smile on your cheek. “‘Tsumu, ‘Tsumu, please ‘Tsumu” he whispers the whines - your whines - much to your dismay.
Pushing him away, you’re only reminded of the hard planes of his abs, and now there’s definitely heat rising in your face. “Shut it Miya,” you wish you said with more defiance. Your grumble let’s him know he’s won your embarrassment.
“Thought ya liked it when I talked,” he teases, twisting you around by the shoulder to keep walking. The way you try and avoid eye contact only makes him want it more, and deciding between poking fun and giving in is all too difficult.
You come around quickly though, Atsumu using his seemingly effortless charisma to smooth over jokes, bring you back out of your shell. There’s a feeling that he can, innately, get people on his side. Despite his seeming arrogance and over-confidence, he takes the quips you throw at him on his shoulder. Letting deep chuckles spill off his tongue and reassuring touches whenever he responds in a similar jest.
Atsumu tugs you left and right, pointing your way back to the hotel with ease. The walk proves longer than the twenty minutes Google Maps promised you, trusting Atsumu when he says he ‘knows these streets like the back of his hand’. He does know them pretty well, at least knows that right turns should in fact be left. But the banter and laughter you two are sharing is doing more to him than the sun. It’s still surface level, discussions about plans for the week, where your home is. There’s a segment featuring each of your favorite colours, foods and films.
“Really? Rear Window?”
“What? It’s a classic!”
“The fact that you’ve even seen it surprises me.”
He goes on to explain that yes, it was the only film available at the hotel, but that he admired the determination of the main character. You wouldn’t have pegged him for watching anything considered old, or classic, let alone admiring the story. “And Grace Kelly, right?”
“I mean,” he begins sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck “yeah but—”
Your giggles quiet him.
Eventually you’re back where it began, standing outside the hotel looking at one another.
“So, are you goin’ give me your number or am I goin’ to have to beg you for it?”
“Oh, there’s a chance you’ll beg for it?”
You don’t miss the glint in his eyes, flashing quickly before it passes. “Is that a no, Goldie?”
It would be easier if it was a no. Your hands are acting on want, pulling your phone out and handing it to him with contact screen open before you can think too much about it.
“You better text me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Atsumu hopes that you will. Maybe asking him to a meal or if you need him again, to your room. He settles that want next to another. No running before you can even walk. Like Osamu said, just getting to know one another.
Afternoon practice is long. Time spent sweating and running and jumping for hours away from his phone. He’s thinking about hyper active teammates, making sure he’s setting just right for them. Touching you right. All of his energy spent on the blue and yellow ball before him. Spending his energy on you. Then he’s on to letting his mind be consumed by proteins and carbs and what he can eat over the next week. Maybe just a film in, rather than dinner out. Thinking about Kiyoomi who’s acting all analytical, watching the group and remarking on Atsumu’s performance.
“You seem distracted.”
But he’s not, of course. He can laugh it off and joke around with Bokuto in the locker room. Purposefully not thinking about earlier in the day. His heart wouldn’t race when he finally can open up his phone. It wouldn’t thump in his chest when he checks his notifications.
Unknown Number // 5:48pm
>> i can’t think of anything cool to say so
>> hi tsumu✨
#atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader smut#haikyuu smut#miya atsumu#atsumu#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#haikyuu x y/n#atsumu smut#atsumu fic#atsumu multichapter#haikyuu fic#ven; motion sickness
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Collection of Queer Country Artists and Songs for anyone who doesn’t feel like there’s country music they can relate to...
There is this idea that country music is like just Republican men singing about beer, and trucks and also Jesus, and that is kind of fair because loads of it is but there are some cool as hell queer/lgbtq+ country artists. Finding those and finding that representation in a genre of music I was literally raised on kind of changed my life in a tiny way and I wanted to share that.
(This is by no means a comprehensive list and also I’m basing the “Country” part of this sometimes on my subjective opinion/limited music knowledge so yuh please don’t hate me if I get some wrong)
Also link below for a Spotify playlist of my favourite gay/gayish country music, some mentioned in this post some not, (with a title that isn’t obviously gay for anyone who can’t openly listen to gay stuff on their public accounts for whatever reason) so feel free to skip the massive essay and just jump straight to that. And pretty please repost if I missed anyone/ any songs you love.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7KB6PmUxnpkU7lih8Bysvw
Artists To Follow:
Chely Wright
- Right off the bat, Chely Wright is a legend and I’m in love with her. So, in the 90′s Chely Wright was kind of a huge deal. She started her career as a singer/songwriter and released her first album in ‘94, which was critically acclaimed although never reached the commercial success of her later works. By ‘97 she was really hitting her stride, dropping her breakout hit “Shut up and Drive” (a personal favourite of mine) followed two years later by the biggest hit of her career “Single White Female”. Throughout all that Chely Wright was, to the world, a good old fashioned, heterosexual southern gal. Privately it was a bit of a different story. She had public relationships with male country artists, all while pursuing a secret decade long relationship with a woman.
I hadn’t ever really heard a Chely Wright song until a few years ago so I never knew about her music or career pre-coming out but I do know that even though by the time she came out in 2010 she was by no means at the height of her fame Chely Wright is kind of one of the biggest names in country music to be out and proud (in my opinion) and I love her like an insane amount. I literally play her music in my car when I have passengers just so I can be like “fun fact this singer is actually gay-” and then subject them to a lengthy explanation of her entire career. She came out with an album and a memoir and the album is my favourite of her work because it’s so fucking raw and because I relate to most of it immensely. Anyways Chely Wright went fucking through it in her journey to being her authentic self and now she’s out and proud and married to a woman and they have a family together and I’m a fucking sucker for a happy ending and y’all should add her to every playlist you have. And on top of that her music is genuinely good. Coming out undoubtedly damaged her career but I think that
Brandi Carlile
- As far as I can tell Brandi Carlile has been out her whole career. I feel like this list is just going to be me saying “I’m in love with her” about a bunch of women old enough to be my mother but in my defence, I am honestly in love with her. She’s been making music since she was like, seventeen, and has had a bunch of massive hits, as a singer, songwriter, and producer. If you want to cry kind of happy tears listen to her performance of “Bring my Flowers Now” with Tanya Tucker. She’s won Grammy’s and CMT awards and she’s done it all as an out Queer woman. She’s also a founding member of The Highwomen, an all-female country music group who released their first album in 2019, comprised of Carlile, Marren Morris, Natalie Hemby and Amanda Shires. I really love this band because they’re four artists who are immensely successfully in their own right collabing, much like the Highwaymen, and their music is phenomenal while also being a fuck you to mainstream country music and their inability to properly represent women in country music spaces.
She’s been married to a woman (smoking hot and also brilliant) since 2012 and they have two kids together and if you want to cry (again) then you have to listen to her song “Mother” about her eldest daughter. A queer country artist absolutely worth adding to all your playlists.
Brooke Eden
- As I understand it Eden came out publicly in January of this year. She’s engaged to Hilary Hoover, who she’s been dating since 2015 apparently. I can’t even imagine the pressure that must be on a person and how stressful it would be to keep a relationship secret from the whole world for years and personally I think they’re a cute as hell couple and I wish them literally all the happiness in the world.
Brooke Eden has a few older songs that I think are really good, my favourite being “Act Like You Don’t”, and while her new stuff isn’t my usual country vibe I am a sucker for literally anything gay and it is legally my gay duty to stream any song that she releases to support my fellow queer. It’s quite different to anything Wright or Carlile sing but I actually kind of love that because it shows that country music of all different shapes and sizes and styles can be sung by queer artists.
Amythyst Kiah
- Okay so I am a very new listener to Amythyst Kiah, but her music is literally so beautiful it would be a straight up sin to not include her on this list. Her music is country-blues-roots esq (more roots than country, I think?) and her voice is so unique. She grew up in Chattanooga and has been playing music since childhood. She recently made her Opry debut which is fucking awesome. She also belongs to a band called Our Native Daughters, described as “A supergroup of Black women in traditional music”. Their debut album “Songs of Our Native Daughters” did numbers and I haven’t listened to the whole thing but my favourite so far are “Black Myself” and “I Knew I Could Fly” so y’all add that to your playlists along with “Wild Turkey” by Amythyst Kiah because holy hell her voice on that will blow your mind.
Steve Grand
- The first man to make this list, he should frankly be honoured. Grand has been an out and proud gay man making country music since like 2013, and I have so much respect for an artist who chose to simply never be in, choosing instead to simply write gay ass songs about being in love with men and letting the chips fall where they man. His music is always going to have a special place in my heart and, he’s cute so if you’re into men and music by men give him a google. add him to your playlists, his All-American Boy album is literally just a dozen songs that are perfect to yell-sing along to.
Katie Pruitt
- Not hugely knowledgeable on Katie Pruitt but her music makes me feel crazy intense emotions and is absolutely gay
Honorable Mention Artists I haven’t Really Listened to But Who I Know to be gay thanks to google and might be your thing so totally check them out:
Brandy Clark
Ty Herndon
Shelly Fairchild
Lavendar Country
Trixie Mattel
Cameron Hawthorn
Drop any other names of artists or songs you know of
Specific Songs That Make Me Fucking Cry or (in good and bad ways (but always in a gay way)) or basically are just gay as hell:
If She Ever Leaves Me; The Highwomen
- So, this album came out about a week before my first (and only) girlfriend broke up with me. The general gist of the song is a woman singing about how her loved isn’t ever going to leave her but if she does it sure as hell won’t be for a creepy man in a bar. A little ironic that I felt I related to it so intensely, considering she did in fact leave me. There’s this one lyric that goes “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve lover here out loud/the sky hasn’t always been blue” and my girlfriend and I were crazy deep in the closet so I drew her a cute little picture of a grey cloud and on the back I wrote that lyric and I gave it to her and to me it was kind of a promise that one day I’d get a chance to love her out loud and even though I never actually did this song is forever going to make me cry because of the little bit of hope that lyric gave me and the way it’s inclusion on this overwhelmingly mainstream country album made me feel like acceptance was just that little bit closer.
All American Boy; Steve Grand
- Definitely one of the first gay country songs I ever heard, and Steve Grand didn’t once sacrifice a scrap of country for the gay. It’s beautiful, it’s a little sad, it’s hopeful. It’s forever going to hold a special place in my heart and the music videos is kind of one of my favourites ever. I found this song before I found myself and the way it made my heart warm should have been a stronger sign than I took it to be.
Like Me; Chely Wright
- When you love someone you kind of make it your mission to know them in a way that no one else can. This song by Chely Wright is sort of an ode to that, and how even once you lost someone, you’re still going to know every little thing about them. On top of that it sort of speaks to the idea that all these things Wright learned about this woman, she learned in secret and she knew her and loved her in secret and now that they’re gone from each other she’s left with all of this knowledge and all of these questions and no one to answer them. I love the way it’s so slow and the melody and her voice, the way it’s low and a little raspy, make this one of my favourite Chely Wright songs.
The Mother; Brandi Carlile
- Sorry but a song about being a mother by a queer woman is going to make me cry every time and actually I’m not that sorry. It’s quite a simple song, if any song written by Brandi Carlile can ever be described as ‘simple’, it’s an ode to her daughter. My favourite line is “you are not an accident/where no one thought it through” because it speaks to the fact that in order for queer women to have a kid together they have to want it so damn bad and also I just like the way her voice sounds on that line. This song is also the perfect thing to listen to if you ever for a second feel like being gay/queer is going to stand in the way of you having a family because it absolutely doesn’t have to and if that’s something you want, you can have it. Don’t let people try and convince you otherwise.
Loving Her; Katie Pruitt
- Unapologetic gay love. Opening a song with “If loving hers a sin, I don’t wanna go to heaven” is a fucking baller move and she went there. The lyrics are beautiful, and her voice is phenomenal. It could be a sad song, about confronting religious repression and grappling with what that means for your love, but instead its triumphant. Katie Pruitt doesn’t give a fuck if you have a problem because she’s going to write songs for her lover.
Jesus From Texas; Semler
- Not actually totally sure this is a country song, but it has the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘Texas’ in the title so I feel safe including it in this list. Honestly, I don’t really know why I relate so hard to this song. Like, I wasn’t really raised with religion, so I don’t know what it is about this funky little tune that makes me want to sob but there’s something about this tune that makes me want to do whatever the opposite of get up and dance is, but like, in a good way.
Lovin’ Again; Steve Grand
- Breakup song that ends kind of positively? So good to sing along to at high, high volumes. The idea that losing someone doesn’t have to mean losing yourself and just because you can’t love them doesn’t mean you’re not ever going to love again. But also kind of about how it’s hard to get over someone, I don’t know it’s just good.
Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears; Lavender Country
- Jesus christ if this isn’t the coolest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. Sorry but a gay country group formed in 1972 who dropped possibly the first gay themed country album, and this was the title of one of the songs. God I am in love.
Songs that (to me) are a little fruity or that I just relate to in a gay way:
Picket Fences; Chely Wright
- Chely Wright is gay but this song came out long before she did and when she wrote it, it wasn’t supposed to be gay which is why it’s in this section and not the previous. The reason it’s included at all is because frankly ma’am, Mrs Wright, it’s a little fruity. And I feel a little bad for joking because honestly to me, the way I hear this song and knowing the context (that Wright was deeply closeted at the time she wrote and released it), it’s kind of just sad. The general gist of the song is Wright asking what’s so great about a traditional lifestyle anyways. It could be read as a woman genuinely questioning why we push that expectation that she’ll have two kids and a husband and a picket fence lifestyle, or even could be read as a woman who’s trying to deflect how much she does in fact want that, you have to listen and form your own opinion. But to me, it feels like a woman who’s desperately trying to justify why she doesn’t want that life not because she can’t have it, but she knows it will never be right for her. I don’t know it’s hard to explain I just feel like this song is a little bit gay even though I’m sure she didn’t intend that.
Sinning with You; Sam Hunt
- Sorry but this song is gay. Sorry but you can’t write the lines “I never felt like I was sinning with you/Always felt like I could talk to God in the morning” and “if it’s so wrong why did it feel so right” and “But I never felt shame, never felt sorry/Never felt guilty touching your body” and not to mention the opening line of “raised in the first pew/praises for yeshua/case of a small town repression”, and expect to not sit in my car sobbing as I realised that while I never felt like what we did was a sin she absolutely did, and wishing I could have told her that I was sorry for making her carry the weight of both our souls but also that it wasn’t a sin and nothing in the world could feel that good and be that bad and it isn’t right that she had to be so ashamed of something that was just so good. Sam Hunt actually said after he wrote the song that while it was reflection on his own relationship with faith he genuinely hopes that people in the lgbtq community can like find comfort or whatever in his words and like go off king, we stan an ally.
How do I Get There; Deana Carter
- This ones easy, it’s about falling in love with your best friend and suddenly realising you want more than just friendship with them. Sorry Deana, that’s gay. In my Deana Carter of like Year 10 I played this song on repeat and screamed along to the lyrics as though singing it hard enough would make her like me back.
#country#country music#music#singer#lgtbqia#lesbian#queer#gay#brandi carlile#brandy clark#chely wright#owns my entire heart#deana carter#country songs#playlist#compilation#steve grand#lavender country#brooke eden#trixie mattel#katie pruitt#semler#gay country music#gay country songs#add to this playlist and this post i want to know everyones favourite country songs and artists who are gay as hell
58 notes
·
View notes
Note
An anti/former harry fan has made several long blog entries about why harry is not political, just privileged and out of touch. Can we please prove them wrong? It makes me sad.
x/x/x
Listen, like.
Ok. Sigh. Big sigh. Because—here you know what I’m gonna put this under a cut bc frankly I don't wanna clog my blog up with discourse. So. If yal care what I think about this then keep on readin.
Honestly? Honestly. Honestly I know this isn’t what you want to hear but I…….. think this person raises some important points. I don't agree with everything, obviously—I wouldn’t be a fan of Harry if I didn’t see such gracefulness and compassion and strength in him and his work. But. Yeah. Some of this is stuff we should consider.
Here's the thing: personally, I don't necessarily think that H's reputation for quietness on social issues or for making soft statements is as awful as it's made out to be. Would I be elated if he said more? Sure, absolutely. He is so, so, so privileged, and he has such a huge platform. But what I see in him is a careful and thoughtful person who prefers to show solidarity through action or appearance rather than words. Which is, frankly, usually enough for me. I understand why it's not enough for some, but most of the time it is for me: I can take what he does and my interpretation of it and apply the goodness and kindness I see there to parts of my own life.
But really, getting to your actual question, I think this person’s point that if you’re pro-choice but are not willing to make unequivocally damning statements about abortion, you shouldn’t weigh in, is..... a fair one. It's interesting. Like, I don't totally know how I feel about this, to be 100% transparent with you. I don’t think I’d want to entirely gatekeep that conversation, and I want H to be able to express support for his fans in the ways he feels he can and should, but I do see where op is coming from there. Seen from a certain angle, H's statement does feel like a flippant nod to an issue that is very, very, very contentious and painful. And personally, I would appreciate a full-throated denouncement of laws prohibiting abortion from Harry much more than this kind of sort of maybe TPWK thing that we keep getting—but I think we have to remember that that kind of statement is not Harry’s thing. It's not, and hasn't really ever been; Harry’s music is all navel gazing and figuring yourself out, internal rather than external, and I don't think he promises us more than that. I don't think he needs to. And, like I said, I can understand why some would resent him for that, given his immense privilege, but really—Harry’s a human, and no matter what he says or doesn’t say people will scream at him and tell him he’s awful horrible evil or amazing gorgeous perfect, the combination of which has to be incredibly confusing, and not to baby someone who’s been read as a white man his whole life but—I don’t know that I’d want to try to make eloquent and perfectly measured statements on social issues if I were in Harry's position, either. I'd be terrified of my own platform. I just—he’s a person. Let him be one.
Granted, this particular instance is a bit tricky because being pro-choice *is* black and white right-wrong for me, where something like gender or sexuality (other issues he's often demonized for not "speaking out" enough on; utter BS, that) is very much a gray-area ~different for everyone and he'll share when he's ready or able~ type thing, but this idea of entitlement to all of Harry’s opinions and thoughts is still so tiring and frustrating to me. I'd like it if we could just let him figure things out at his own pace.
And, also: listen to what he's saying. Right? Like. He literally never said "abortion". I do think he was making a nod to it, but honest, the way I read that statement originally was—Harry doesn't want anyone to tell *him* what to do with his body. I hear, more than anything, just straight-up bodily reclamation there. Someone had to point out that it could be applied to the Texas law for me to get that part of it. It's layered. I feel like he's letting those who hear him decide what he means (yet again). And I see why someone might take issue with him making a statement that, because it's vague, could be misconstrued (even to the point of being twisted into an antivax statement, but I don't really think that's Harry's fault, it's pretty clear where he stands on that issue)—or see this as him maybe kind of going, eh, let's just throw abortion in there while we're at it as if that's not an issue that would deserve its own statement—I just. That's not what I take from it. And in any case I agree with op, in a twisty turny kind of way: I can't expect my politics to come from Harry Styles. I am a fan of Harry Styles because I think it's awe-inspiring that he shares his shifting, expanding knowledge of himself through his art, always with his trademark, ever-present grace and softness and vulnerability.
Really what it comes down to is. The person whose posts you linked said that his statement, if it's about abortion, is inappropriate because it puts the onus on those people actually harmed by the issue to "fix" it by supporting one another, and again, yeah, I can see why they said that—but I still don't think that's the only way to read it. What I hear when I hear Harry ask us to have one another's backs is: kindness is absolutely foundational, kindness is everything; acting human towards yourself and others, even when others do not, is not weak but is rather an act of defiance and it is very, very brave; is a way of fighting, really, for goodness; this is a world in which we all must take care of one another, and it's courageous to do so. He didn't say all that any more than he made a clear-cut statement about abortion, but still.
Whether H means for all of his equivocation and shallow-seeming statements to have so many interpretations isn't really my concern, at the end of the day. I don't know what's in H's head. What I do know is what his art has done for me—so even though it might sound hard to believe after reading this longass answer that I've written you today, nonnie, I do try to focus on only what I can see of H, remember that he's a privileged human being who, like all of us, is far, far, far from perfect, and not idolize him too much. It's important to encourage accountability for what he doesn't say and maybe should, but equally so to hear what he does.
#asks#anon#EDIT lmao i'm so aggressively pro choice that i forgot this is online and u gotta specify those things#a typo in an earlier version of this almost made it seem like my dumbass was pro life so if you were victimized by that earlier#i apologize#rambles#discourse
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I would love to hear your thoughts/predictions/hopes for s3, now that we got the episode titles :D
Hey Nora!! Let me go grab my tua theory hat real quick. Spoiler alert, it looks exactly like the umbrella hat on the 3 right here:
Full disclosure, I've only got like a pinky toe in the tua fandom right now, but I'm still going to see what BS I can spin from these titles.
1. MEET THE FAMILY. The description on imdb is "The siblings get to know some more of the 43 children in an alternate timeline." So, I think this is pretty self-explanatory. Netflix likes to start things off with a bang, so s3 of TUA will probably be no different: we'll probably get a vague flashforward/flash-sideways to a "what if" scenario that will make sense by the last few episodes, and the rest of the episode will be sowing seeds for the s3 plot. The big question is, what family are we meeting? I think this episode will revolve around themes of family (no-brainer) and redefining the relationships between our Umbrella siblings in light of the season 2 finale, as well as their new Sparrow 'replacements'. To that end, initial Sparrow sibling parallels will be presented and subsequently complicated in this first episode. I also predict we'll see varying reactions to this alternate Reginald, as the Umbrella siblings are thrust into an outsider perspective that follows on from season 2.
2. WORLD'S BIGGEST BALL OF TWINE. This is going to be a multi-layered metaphor. I can feel it. It will no doubt refer to the plot that's about to unfold (is it an outside threat to both parties - the Umbrellas and Sparrows - from, say, the Commission, or is it more to do with the two rival Academies?), but I wonder if it also refers to the Wizard of Oz type scenario the Umbrella siblings find themselves in: they aren’t in Kansas anymore. (But you know what is in Kansas? The world's current biggest ball of twine.) Also kind of want to see Klaus knitting again in this ep - perhaps as a way to subtly re-address his ongoing addiction issues, especially now Ben is gone.
3. POCKET FULL OF LIGHTNING. This probably has to do with powers. Sparrow powers, Umbrella powers. There'll be a lot of new flexes in this season, so who this refers to is anyone's guess.
4. KUGELBLITZ. Here's where it starts to get interesting, because this title carries forward the subject of lightning from the last one. According to a very quick internet search, kugelblitz literally means "ball lightning" in German, and refers to both a) a glorified WW2 tank designed to take out aircraft (a certified Big Boi), and b) a theoretical black hole made from light/radiation rather than matter. So this is absolutely going to be a new, unseen power - probably from the Sparrows. Hopefully from Christopher because a cube executing a move named after a sphere just makes me chuckle. Ah, fun with shapes... But in addition, this power is probably going to pack a huge, debilitating punch to whatever narrative is underway at this point in the plot. I'll bet money that whoever wields this power is the tank character in their party or they are after this at least.
5. KINDEST CUT. This throws me back to the barber shop meta, I'm not gunna lie. Someone's going to get hurt, either physically or emotionally, and it's going to be the lesser of two evils. If it's a follow through on the barber metaphor, then Reggie will be the one to orchestrate it. Or, in a surprise twist, will he be the one gTetting hurt or being silenced? (Remember that cutthroat allegory that chases the siblings through the first season, particularly Allison and Klaus. It was about becoming voiceless.) 6.MARIGOLD. Big shout out to this post for spreading the word on the marigold symbolism. I'm pretty sure this will be Reginald backstory, which ties in with the creation of the Umbrella Academy. Also, because I'm a sucker for flower symbolism and reading into things, consider that marigolds:
a) fall into two families, the calendula which means "little clock" and the tagetes, which is named after the Etruscan prophet Tages. The Etruscans believed heavily in predestination - some events are set in stone, and cannot be changed. (Consider the way the apocalypse seems to always come for one set of siblings...) b) are named as such colloquially because they were offered in place of money to the Virgin Mary. (More divine imagery, and reference to a pure mother figure...) They are Mary’s gold. So maybe it’s a reference to Reginald’s wife, which would fit with the flashback scene we see in 1x10. c) are a flower of duality. They have strong connections with the sun and resurrection, yet the marigold is thought to be a flower of grief because it blooms in autumn. Again, think about that flashback in the first season. At the end of the world and a wife dying, there was the promise of rebirth. d) It's also a very common flower. Remember, there's actually 43 siblings out there. We've only met 14.
Also Netflix loves to do this thing around the halfway point (usually episode 5/6) in a season they're producing. They'll switch up the narrative with a twist or turn that provides a new perspective. 7.AUF WEIDERSEHEN. Once again, a German connection. And, obviously, a goodbye. Considering the last season focused on Kennedy, are we going to get some earlier Cold War time-travel shenanigans? Or maybe WW2? I think Blackman has said something about the Berlin Wall, which is interesting. A country divided... Umbrellas and Sparrows allegory? But as an aside, I'm also kinda lowkey hoping it's a nod to Auf Weidersehen, Pet. If you don't know the show, here's the wiki summary for the first season:
Auf Wiedersehen, Pet is a British comedy-drama television programme about seven British construction workers who leave the United Kingdom to search for employment overseas. They find work on a German building site in Düsseldorf but despite promises of hostel accommodation, are forced to live in a small hut that reminds them of a World War II POW camp. The rest of the series is driven by the interactions and growing friendships between the various characters.
In episode seven, three of the “Magnificent Seven” visit an intercontinental hotel. Just saying. If s3 was to go this route, my money would be on Luther, Diego and Five getting up to shenanigans in this one. I miss 125 shenanigans.😢
8.WEDDING AT THE END OF THE WORLD. Honestly, I’m holding out hope that one of our fave siblings gets married. I feel like that’s a trap though... Actually I feel like it might actually be a trap. As in, this is when the rising action really kicks it up a notch. But also remember the title of 1x01: We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals. Maybe the siblings get split up, possibly in episode 3/4, and they’re trying to reunite through episodes 5-7. Also thinking about hotels and apocalypses... There’s something very fatalistic about these titles so far. I have a feeling that the B-plot or the subtext is going to reveal a lot more about Reginald’s history and the destruction of his world.
9. SIX BELLS. This makes me think of church bells, which is some nice continuity with the wedding of the last title. But church bells are rung for all sorts of reasons - as a call to worship, or in celebration or mourning, or to tell the time. (Thinking back to those marigolds suddenly.) But why six? Now I’m thinking of bell ringing (change ringing), and the way different bells have different cord lengths to control the time of their chimes. It’s a highly mathematical process. Will this episode be Five’s time to shine? Will he coordinate his siblings through a large attack? 10. OBLIVION. Does anything even need to be said about this one? Hotel Oblivion baby ✌✌ Any further theorising would require more knowledge of the coming plot tbh.
Edit: I wrote most of this at 2am, so I’ve just tidied it up a little. Thank you for the ask, Nora! This was fun to think about.
#nikkiwrites#tua meta#tua s3 meta#aka i shake a magic 8-ball and see what comes up#tua season 3#nikkianswers#softforklave#tua s3 spoilers#the umbrella academy#spoilers
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Out Of Time ~ 14
MASTERLIST
< previous chapter
Word Count: 1,250ish
Summary: Y/N struggles with the concept of being out of her time. Fury gives her a mission.
~~~
Agent Coulson kept telling Y/N that being in a different time would get easier as time went on, but Y/N felt like it was just getting harder. For the past month, Y/N has been living at SHIELD’s DC Headquarters, the Triskelion. Agent Coulson said it’s to ease her into society, but she knows that they’re just waiting to see if she will do something. For the most part, she stays silent, going through the motions to do the testing and training SHIELD wants. Coulson is the closest thing she has to a friend. He’s there everyday, trying to get her to open up more. She appreciates it, but ends up hiding her tears every time he mentions his love for Captain America and his vintage trading cards. She usually excuses herself to the restroom quickly after her brother is mentioned.
Y/N began struggling with the concept of time. For her, she lost Bucky and fought side by side with Steve a few weeks ago. For everyone else, it was decades ago. Director Fury is careful when it comes to sharing information about the people she knew. At first, he explains SHIELD, what it is and who founded it. The next day, Fury lets Y/N know that Peggy is alive. She immediately insists on seeing her, convincing him that it would help her. Peggy was brought in three days later. Peggy was much older than Y/N now. 87 years old, but still going strong. The two women held onto each other and cried. Peggy tells her of Steve’s last moments, and how he had promised her a dance.
“Howard searched for both of you, endlessly,” Peggy stated as she gripped onto Y/N’s hands. “He found the cube but never could find a trace of you or Steve.”
“How is Howard?” Y/N asked. Peggy paused, looking down at their clasped hands. “Peggy? What’s wrong?”
“Howard… He… He and his wife, Maria, died in a car accident in 1991.”
“What?”
“Official report says it was an accident. But…”
“But Howard helped found SHIELD. So it couldn’t have been an accident… I just… Howard… He…”
“He never stopped looking for you two. Said it owed it to you.”
“He didn’t owe me a thing… Did he have any children?”
“Yes, one. His name is Anthony. He goes by Tony though and is way too much like his father for his own good.”
In the weeks that followed, Y/N began to have nightmares about falling out of the plane and the blue cube. Coulson, who was staying in the room next door on Fury’s orders, frequently comforted Y/N at night after waking up to her screaming. It wasn’t uncommon for Coulson to her Y/N call out for Steve or Bucky. It hurt him to hear her to desperate for them.
After Y/N had been awake for about a month and a half, Fury brought in two of his best Agents, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, to train her. Y/N threw herself into it, welcoming a distraction. Just like back in the forties, she was passing all the tests with flying colors. When she wasn’t training, she was studying up on what she had missed and learning all the new technology. Everyone was surprised at how fast she was adapting to the twenty first century. Y/N really struggled with it, she just wouldn’t let it show. She knew that she needed to push herself in order to be able to actually live a life in this new age.
Though the government wanted to make a huge deal about Y/N’s discovery, Fury and the rest of SHIELD had convinced them to not tell the press. Fury saw Y/N as an asset for information in the field. He also knew that Y/N didn’t want all the attention that would come with the world knowing that she had survived.
As she trained and was tasked to go on missions as a field agent, she became close with the agents that were tasked to watch her. It was nice. She had woken up in a new time without anyone, but they had become her little family.
It had been almost two years after she had woken up, when Director Fury threw a file on Y/N’s desk.
“What’s this?” She questioned, carefully picking up the large file.
“Your first solo assignment,” Fury responded.
“Sir, I don’t know if—“
“You’re ready, Agent Rogers. You’ve passed every test, even better than Romanoff. You’ve successfully completed every team mission you’ve been on, exceeding every expectation in the book. Frankly, you’re over qualified for this mission.”
“What exactly is the mission?” Y/N asked as she began flipping through the file.
“Personal security to the CEO of Stark Industries, Tony Stark.”
Y/N’s head snapped up to look at Fury. “Howard’s son? I thought he was missing.”
“The US Military found him about four hours ago. He’s on his way home and you’ve already been hired. His personal assistant, as well as the board of his company, seemed very desperate to get him a personal security guard.”
“Am I suppose to go under cover?”
“Yes.”
“How do we know Howard never talked about me? Or had a picture of me with him?”
“No need to worry. He didn’t.”
“Oh.” It kind of stung a little, the fact that Howard never mentioned her. “What name am I using?”
“Y/N Barnes.”
She sucked in a breath, clenching her eyes shut. “Really?”
“We thought it would be the only name you’d be comfortable with. Too late to change it now. Your alias background files are already public knowledge, you should review them the way there.”
“When do I leave?”
“You have an hour to pack up, then you and Agent Coulson will be flying out to Los Angeles. Coulson is going to be your point guy on this. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Why this case, sir? Out of any case, why Tony Stark?”
Fury sighed. “I knew Howard, personally.”
“You did? Why haven’t you—“
“I never said anything because you haven’t needed to know. And you don’t need to know everything I know just yet.”
“You can’t—“
“I can do whatever I want, Agent. You work for me. Now, quit wasting time. Romanoff will help you pack.”
Y/N gave a simple nod as Fury turned around and left her office. She glanced back down at the file, brushing her fingers over Tony’s pictures. He was so Howard’s son. She sniffled, not really wanting to cry, but it was moments like this that made her miss the forties. Natasha Romanoff was already in Y/N’s room, packing, when she arrived.
“Are you excited?” Romanoff smiled. “First solo assignment.”
“Yeah… I just…” Y/N sighed. “I just wish that it wasn’t Howard’s son. It’s going to be weird.”
“From what I understand, he’s even more of a playboy than his father.”
“That’s not helping, Nat. And if he’s such a playboy, why am I going?”
“Fury is convinced you’re up for the job. I thought you’d be more excited than this.”
“I’m just nervous, I guess. I don’t feel ready.”
“You don’t feel ready? Hell, if you don’t feel ready, I shouldn’t be going out in the field.” Nat took Y/N by the shoulders, turning her to face her. “You’re more than ready. You got this.”
“I got this.”
next chapter >
NOTES: my tags still aren’t working... so if anyone has any ideas. please send them in. Thanks for all the comments, likes and reblogs. Means the world! truly.
#tony stark x reader#bucky barnes x reader#avengers x reader#the avengers x reader#marvel imagine#tony stark imagine#bucky barnes imagine#avengers imagine#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#marvel fanfiction#Phil Coulson x Reader#avengers fanfiction#iron man x reader#winter soldier x reader#captain america x reader
454 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just saw your take one Lilo&Stitch's approach to child protection and I was wondering if you could give some advice on how to write realistic stuff in this matter? I've been meaning to write a foster care/adoption fic and I do know the system in France must be at least a little different - and I will get down the research hole once I have a bit more time - but do you have any advice on how to write the kids reactions, the way parents deal with everything, the bonding part... things like this, so I can avoid clichés.
You don't have to answer though, feel free to ignore all this akdjwja I just figured there's no harm in asking XD
Yeah, sure! (To anyone else reading this who has a fic, feel free to send me a message if you have questions!) I’m definitely not the most knowledgeable person, but I know quite a bit. And I’m sure things are a bit different in France (hopefully their court system is better - yikes!) but I think the human element would be pretty similar, so here we go.
First off, know that everyone is foster care is having a rough time constantly. Foster kids, workers, parents, foster parents, foster siblings. And no one knows what’s going on long term. There’s always a lot of uncertainty. Will the kids go home soon? Are parental rights going to be terminated at the next court date? Who knows???
The birth parents, at best, are going through a really tough time in their life, made worse because their kids were taken away from them. Some care about their kids, but they’re extremely self-centered and have zero parents skills. Some are manipulative and see foster care as free babysitting, and as long as they get to see their kid for an hour or so a week, this arrangement is fantastic for them! At worst, they’re just horrible human beings who abuse children. In general, most parents are clueless and selfish and pretty manipulative. They say they’re good parents and have no clue why their kids were taken away, even though their kid has cigarette burn marks on their back, or had to eat out of the garbage to survive because the were left alone for hours at a time when they were four, or worse. They have no clue at all what their behavior does to their kids, and they refuse to listen to anyone who tries to explain it to them.
No matter what type of parents they were, their kids ALWAYS love them and want to go home. Every single one of them. No matter the age. No matter what their home life put them through. Some of them aren’t old enough to understand why they can’t go home. Some have been in foster care for years and hardly remember living at home but still want to go home.
It makes for complicated foster relationships sometimes because the kid will be attached to both birth and foster parents and feel guilty or conflicted or disloyal, or they’ll try really hard not to be attached to the foster parents in the first place. (I can think of only one exception to this. Two sisters who had been put into another home and liked the foster family and decided that they were going to be adopted by this family and were very excited about it... except the foster family had no plans to adopt them. I never learned what happened there.)
And this is before accounting for the mental health struggles that often accompany the trauma most of them have been through. Some kids come in with anxiety that makes it difficult to trust new people. Some kids’ behavior is so extreme that it’s difficult for foster parents to take care of them, and so the kid moves around constantly. (If their behavior is too bad, they can sometimes be put into either a group home or residential, either temporarily or permanently.)
Parents are also entitled to visits, usually either weekly or every other week, at least while the goal is reunification (which is always starts out as). Before the pandemic, these usually took place in the DCF (Department of Children and Families is what it’s called in my state) office or in a visitation center. Sometimes the court orders that the visits be supervised so they don’t start promising their kids that they’re coming to get them next week. Often the workers think that sitting down the hallway not listening counts as supervision. 🙄
With the pandemic, kids have been meeting over Zoom. That’s being phased out pretty soon here. Kids are almost always triggered by these visits. I mean, they look forward to them usually. Some kids are mad at their parents and don’t want to talk to them, but almost always, they want to see their parents. And almost always whatever behavior problems they had before is extremely worse for the next 2-5 days. (Which is terrible if you get a visit every week.) Some parents bail on these visits regularly. Some consistently bail on only birthdays and Christmas. We’ve learned not to tell the kid that they have a visit coming up until we know it’s definitely happening, or sometimes only right before we’re planning on leaving to go, because the anticipation of a visit is triggering or because getting stood up by your own mother is traumatizing. Sometimes you can get the kid’s therapist to write a note asking for the visits to be less frequent for the kid’s sake, but often that just means every other week instead of every week.
For foster families welcoming kids into their home, it’s a little different. They’re often more stable, and their whole life isn’t shifting around them. They’re just getting one or two kids into the family. The home dynamic is going to be a little different. Nothing huge, compared to what the foster kids are going through. It often depends on the kid how fast you get attached. Sometimes you know kids are only going to be there for a month because their normal foster family had to deal with an emergency, but the plan is to take them back soon. Sometimes they’re adorable babies and you get super attached really, really fast. Sometimes they’re so unhappy and scared that they make your home life completely miserable. Sometimes you’ve seen so many kids come and go over the years, and they’ve all left eventually, and your heart becomes guarded to protect you from that pain. But you get attached eventually anyway.
And sometimes your parents are given a newborn whose goal is reunification and it’s love at first sight even though you don’t know if you can keep him, and then he’s put up for adoption when he’s two and you adopt him SO HARD. And then you make future foster kids upset because you can’t adopt them too. :( And even though they get adopted by friends of yours, they still feel conflicted over it four years later.
You would think that a kid raised completely in their adoptive home from birth would have no problems, and sometimes that’s the case. Sometimes they still get upset about the adoption when they’re older because the foundational belief they have about themselves is that their mother didn’t want them, even though it’s not true.
(This is the real-life story of my brother. We are the only family he’s ever known, and he’s 13 now, but he still has issues over being adopted. The other boy is 16 and is doing much better with his new family now, though he still has some issues. We had him for a very long time, and we were all happy that we know his adoptive family well because we stayed it contact with him, which almost never happens when a foster kid leaves.)
Oh, I forgot one thing. Usually when kids first get to your house, they are perfect little angels for a while. Depending on the kid, it’s either a couple days or maybe even three months. It’s called the “honeymoon period.” Once their subconscious realizes that this is a safe place to work on their issues and they aren’t in physical danger, they start to process what they’ve been through. It comes out in a variety of ways. Behavioral issues, bedwetting, explosive anger, nightmares, etc.
A note about social workers: All the workers (at least in my state) constantly have too many cases. Like, double what they’re legally supposed to have. Most of them try hard to keep up. Some DO NOT CARE. Some are fantastic and put extra time in to go to the kid’s end-of-the-school-year recitals and build a relationship with them. They’re in charge of organizing visits and making sure the kids have everything set up and are generally important in the kid’s life. They’re required to visit once a month and make sure foster parents have all the right paperwork and arrange dentist visits and bring them to all their therapy appointments. (FYI, You get a piece of paper that says you’re the legal guardian. You have to show it to schools and doctors when you make arrangements for the kids. My mom also keeps a copy in her purse, just in case a kid starts screaming “HELP! SHE’S NOT MY MOM” in the middle of the store or something. It’s never happened, but you know, just in case.)
Also, you would think that they’re the constant in the kid’s life, but if the birth parents move, the case gets transferred to another office in the state, and so the social workers switch. I sincerely hope that’s not how things are done in France because it’s garbage for a lot of reasons.
Okay, I’ve written you an essay, but I hope it was a useful essay! Let me know if you have any more questions!
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
i can be temptation, you can be my sin
Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 4.5k
Genre: smut, tiny side of angst and fluff, office!au (not the TV show), coworkers!au
Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!Jimin, sub!reader, spanking, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, degradation, reader sends nudes
Summary: Between bragging about his prolific sex life and his horrific design ideas, Jimin has managed to make your work life a living hell. Then one little accident sends you hurtling towards him, and as hard as you try, you can’t seem to stop yourself.
A/N: This is a commission for @ppersonna for @ficswithluv‘s ChangesWithLuv project dedicated to raising money for BLM. I’m so sorry this fic took forever to write (I’m not sure why), but I hope that you enjoy it! A huge shout-out to my lovely beta-reader, @jinterlude. She’s the best!
| m.list |
“Jimin…” a groan tumbles out of you, “that shade of yellow is-“
“Bright and comforting?”
“-awful.”
His thick lips curve into a pout, eyes doing little to conceal his mock hurt. Exasperation runs through your body, grasping your brain in its clutches. Your entire week has been filled with Jimin’s progressively hideous design ideas for a book cover, to the point you’re beginning to wonder how he got hired at all. The piss-yellow mock-up in front of you is just another straw in the stack that is going to break your back.
“What?” he looks confused, “You said you wanted something eye-catching, and I would have to say this is pretty darn, eye-catching.”
“It’s blinding is what it is. Maybe if we toned it back a bit…” your eyes drift over the design, horror twisting in your gut.
You want to cry. A week ago, your boss had enthusiastically paired you with Jimin to design a book cover for an up and coming YA author, claiming the two of you were the best designers she had, even promising the both of you a promotion if things went well. You aren’t sure what designs Jimin had produced in the past, because what he was bringing to the table now wasn’t much better than a shitty college club poster.
Jimin didn’t make for great company either. Sure he had legs that went for miles, and a face that would outshine angels, but his mouth was filthy. If the two of you weren’t bickering over fonts and hex codes, you were stuck listening to him brag about how loud he could make a girl scream. What’s worse is that while your brain was logical enough to know that Jimin was no good for you, your body had other ideas. As a result, you often went home after a long day, frustrated in more ways than one.
With a little luck- and quite a bit of compromising- you manage to make it to five ‘o’clock without murdering anyone. You manage to talk Jimin down off the yellow in exchange for completing the pitch presentation by yourself. Presentations are time-consuming and tedious, but it’s better than being out of a job because Jimin is set on making the cover look like a neon highlighter.
A half an hour later, you're collapsing on your soft couch, ready to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend. A sigh of relief carries an iota of the stress out of your body as you sink back into the welcoming cushions. You grimace as the tension in your neck became apparent, and you feel the growing ball of angst you have for Jimin tighten. You were going to send him the bill if you had to go to a chiropractor.
In an attempt to move on from your hectic week and into your relaxing weekend, you wander to the kitchen, searching for the merlot you have yet to open. The tall green bottle greets you from the counter. You find a glass and watch as the red liquid quickly fills it. You savor a long sip as you let your mind stray away from the thoughts of work and stress and into notions of self-care and relaxation.
An hour later, having eaten a frozen pizza, you find yourself soaking down into the hot bath suds. The heat begins to draw the ache out of your sore muscles. Once again, Jimin flashes through your mind, coupled with resentment. Your eyes prickle at the thought, sick and tired of Jimin living in your mind rent-free. Why is he preoccupying your brain instead of Seokjin, the cute cook you matched with on Tinder?
While you had yet to meet in person, you and Seokjin had hit off right away when he opened with the cheesiest pick-up line you’d ever heard. He worked at a five-star restaurant a few blocks from your office, but you’d never met in person. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t had a few scandalous conversations. You weren’t usually one for sexting, but Seokjin’s way with words left you little choice.
Eager to take Jimin off your mind, you grab your phone from the side of the tub, quickly opening your messages. You’re much too impatient for small talk, so in the interest of sparking some saucy dialogue, you take a few snaps of your bubble-covered nude body. You suck in a breath as you hit send, anxious for your reaction. It wasn’t the first time you had sent him a nude photo, but it didn’t make you any less nervous. Seokjin was one of the most attractive men you had ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, and it was only natural for you to question your appearance in comparison to his. He would always reassure you, though, flattering you with compliments, both sultry and sweet.
When he doesn’t respond fifteen minutes, a knot forms in your stomach. What if he didn’t like them? What if he was seeing someone else? What if he lost interest? You check your messages with hurried concern. What you find on your screen mortifies. In your haste to tease Seokjin, you had accidentally sent the photos to the last person you texted: Jimin. Worse yet, the little grey “read” sits just beneath the last picture. As you stare at the screen with abject horror, a little speech-bubble pops-up. Your stomach twists in knots, anticipating of what he might say striking you with fear.
The Office Brat: if you wanted a piece of me baby girl, all you had to do was ask 20:33
You suck in a breath when he immediately follows the text with a picture of his own. He’s shirtless, lip between his teeth as he grabs his prominent erection through grey sweatpants. You can’t help the whine that slips out of your mouth at the image. You try to ignore the heat that rushes to your core as your legs rub together. When your senses finally return to you, you drop your phone on the bath mat before sinking into the water, leaving only your face out. The photo is still seared into your brain, taunting you with his delicious abs and what turned out to be a healthy sized dick.
You immediately resolve to forget it ever happened. You spend the rest of the weekend attempting to distract yourself through a binge of every cheesy rom-com you can find on Netflix. You sent Jimin a quick text, informing him that the photos weren’t actually for him. He hadn’t responded, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. It certainly didn’t aid the dread building in your stomach at the thought of having to face him again on Monday.
When you walk into the office two days later, you’re relieved to find that Jimin seemed nowhere to be found. You pray that he actually had an iota of shame and quit out of humiliation. Your hopes are crushed when not five minutes later, you notice him prancing toward your cubicle, his ever-present smirk plastered across his face. When he reaches you, he plops down in an extra desk chair, arms crossed across his chest, eyes looking you up and down. You can’t help but shiver at the knowledge that he knows precisely what you look like underneath your work clothes.
“What do you want, Jimin?” you sigh.
“Haven’t I made that obvious, baby?” He grins. “I want you.”
You roll your eyes.
“Jimin, what happened this weekend was an accident,” you give him a firm glare, “so no matter how much you claim to want me, I want nothing to do with you.:
He raises his eyebrow, eyes locked on yours, before standing and walking to you. His breath is warm on your neck as he leans over to whisper in your ear. You clench your thighs in an attempt to extinguish the heat beginning to burn in between them.
“We’ll see about that, now won’t we, baby girl?”
He pulls away with a smirk, before turning to head to his desk. Your eyes trail to his ass as he leaves, only worsening the situation in your underwear. You silently vow to yourself not to fall for his tricks. You have more self-respect than to allow yourself to be yet another notch in Park Jimin’s bedpost.
Brushing thoughts of your troublesome coworker from your mind, you turn back to your bright computer screen, determined to lose yourself in your work. Your eyes widen when you find an email from Jimin taunting you in your inbox. Heart pounding fast, you click on it, half afraid to find another nude of his (it wouldn’t be beyond him). Instead of a naked Jimin, a PDF with the details for the cover design presents itself. You’re taken aback. Not only had Jimin swapped the yellow for soft coral, but he practically redesigned the entire thing. Scrolling through, you’re embarrassed to admit that it was nearly as good, if not better, then some of your best works.
You immediately realize that this means he’s been pulling your leg for over a week. A groan escapes you, and your head falls forward, smashing into your keyboard. Of course, he was a fucking amazing graphic artist; you shouldn’t have expected anything less. Fury floods down your spine as it dawns on you that it was all a trick to get out of doing the PowerPoint. Now you were stuck making an entire presentation, just because Jimin had pretended to love piss-yellow.
It takes every ounce of your self-control not to march to his desk and strangle him. White anger flashes in front of your eyes, resentment growing to cover every waking thought in your brain. When you finally calm enough to rationalize that murder isn’t going to get you anywhere, you decide that your best course of action is to avoid him until the day of the two of you are scheduled to present to the board.
The world isn’t being kind to you today, because when you finally head to the break room for lunch, you immediately run into your new worst enemy.
“What’s got your panties in a knot now, love?”
You glare at him, not trusting yourself not to stab him with your salad fork. He smirks in response, before turning to leave. At the last second, he turns back to you.
“Have fun with that PowerPoint.”
You want to scream.
“Jimin, I swear to god, you little shit, I’m gonna-”
“You’re gonna what? Spank me?” His cheeky grin widens. “You know, baby, I’m usually a dom, but if it meant feeling your sweet pussy, I’d definitely be a sub.”
You are lucky that no one else is around to hear his words because you are mortified enough. Red creeps across your face as Jimin winks at you. When he finally leaves, you collapse back onto the counter, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. You swear to high heaven that you’ve never hated someone so much in your life, yet feel so attracted to them at the same time. As infuriated as you are with him, you are even more infuriated with your inability to control your body’s reaction to him.
Why did he have to know exactly what to say to soak your panties? Why was he so hellbent on getting you to sleep with him? Why did you ever have to be assigned to him in the first place? These questions plagued your mind as the week trickled slowly on. Your anger with Jimin was beginning to be diluted with anxiety about your upcoming presentation. No part of you looked forward to standing in front of the company board to make a potential career-changing pitch with the person you hated most in the world. Not to mention public speaking made you want to hide under a rock and never come out.
Thankfully, Jimin is kind enough to offer to do most of the talking- even if his original deal included a blow job- but it also meant you had less control if things started to go south. By the time Friday rolled around, you’re shitting yourself with fear. Jimin does his best to calm you down as you sit in hard plastic chairs outside the boardroom, waiting to be called in.
“Look, we’ll do fine. You made an amazing presentation, and I’m pretty brilliant at charming people if I do say so myself.”
He reaches over and gives your hand a small squeeze. You’re just nervous enough to offer him a small smile. For what it’s worth, he wasn’t terrible at comforting people.
“Thanks, Jimin. I’m sure everything will go great.”
Everything did not go great. In fact, it went very, very badly. Somewhere out there, someone must have hexed you because that’s the only reason you can think of that would explain why you placed Jimin’s original yellow design in the slideshow instead of his new one. You feel terrible. Not only have you fucked up in front of the entire company, but you’ve put both of your jobs on the line.
As soon as the meeting ended, you rushed off to the bathroom. You already embarrassed yourself enough as it is, you don’t need everyone to see you cry too. Tears roll down your face as you sit on the toilet, praying for the sudden end of your existence.
You had one job and somehow you had managed to fuck it up. You managed to ruin your career. You’re going to end up jobless. Broke. Destitute.
You’re jolted out of your thoughts by a knock at the door.
“Doll? Are you in there?”
Jimin’s voice is soft and comforting, and if you weren’t so afraid of humiliating yourself, you would have gladly welcomed his arms around you. But you are, so you try to stifle your sobs in an attempt to make him go away.
“Doll? I know you’re in there. I can hear you crying,” he sighs, “Please just let me in. I just want to talk.”
A sigh escapes your lips as you debate your options. If he already knows you’re crying, what difference will it make if he sees you? You stand up from your seat on the toilet, make a quick attempt at cleaning up your ruined makeup, and hesitantly open the door to let him inside.
He immediately takes you in his arms, closing the door behind him. The feeling of his body wrapped around yours only serves to induce more tears, and you find yourself crying into his shirt collar.
“I’m so, so sorry, Jimin,” you hiccup, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I used that one. I’m so sor-”
“It’s okay, baby.”
You pull away to look at his eyes.
“What? How can you say that? I ruined the presentation, and we’ll be lucky if they want us to come back to work tomorrow.”
“They loved it.”
“What?”
“They loved it. They thought it was bright and innovative and really demonstrated that we understood design enough to push its limits.”
You look at him in shock. They loved it. They thought it was great. Your job was safe. You weren’t going to be fired. You may even receive a promotion.
“Feel better, doll?” He smiles down at you.
For once in your life, you return his smile, while shaking your head in affirmation.
“Well, then…”
You’re still smiling but suddenly unsure of what to do. Jimin’s hands are still on your waist, and you hated how aware of them you’re becoming. He seems to notice at the same time and quickly pulls them away.
“I have a question.” His voice is soft and shaky, and his eyes shift from side to side, seemingly unable to focus on you.
“What?”
“Why do you hate me so much?”
You’re taken aback. Jimin, who was usually so confident and larger than life, is now standing before you, small and meek, like an underfed puppy begging for scraps.
“I, I don’t hate you, Jimin.”
“But you must,” his voice is curt, “You never flirt back with me, yet I see you tease Hoseok all day long. You never laugh at my jokes. You never praise my work. As soon as I come anywhere near you, you close up. You snap at me, and you have no patience with me. You avoid me at all costs. So let me ask you again: why do you hate me?”
This time, instead of avoiding eye contact, he stares at you like he’s trying to read your soul.
“I really don’t hate you, Jimin.”
He raises his eyebrow.
“I just don’t want you to hurt me.”
He looks genuinely confused at your statement.
“How could I possibly hurt you?”
“The same way you hurt all those other girls.”
“What other girls?” His voice rises with defense.
“You know, the ones you sleep with in bathrooms, only to leave them broken-hearted when you never so much as glance their way again? The one’s you brag about fucking every chance you get until I want to slam my head into a brick wall? The ones that prove you’re nothing but a narcissistic fuckboy whose only goal in life is to get his dick wet? Those are the girls I’m talking about.”
Jimin looks shocked before his face morphs into an angry scowl, eyes heated and alert.
“That’s what you really think about me? That I’m a no-good player who uses girls for their bodies? Do you really think I trick girls into sleeping with me? Because you're wrong. They know what they’re getting into when they agree to restroom rendezvouses, but they always seem to convince themselves that they can convince me that I should be in a relationship with them. That’s not my fault. I would never sleep with someone under false pretenses. And I bragged about them because I wanted you to like me! Do you not get that? I don’t ever try this hard to get anybody to sleep with me, but I like you. I like you a lot, and this whole time you just thought I was a misogynistic fuckboy because you never cared to get to know me better.”
Jimin is seething, like a dog that went feral. His chest rises with heavy breaths as he backs you into the wall, eyes staring down yours. You let out a small whimper when he leans into your ear, hot breath ghosting your neck.
“If you think I’m such a fuckboy, then a fuckboy is what you are going to get.”
Before your brain can properly register his words, his lips are covering yours in a desperate kiss. Despite your lack of cognizance, you respond immediately, lips moving against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into you. His hands ghost down your side before he grabs your ass with a rough squeeze, eliciting a whine from your mouth.
He flips you around before bending you over the sink, eyes holding yours in the mirror reflection.
“I think you’ve been a bad girl, don’t you agree? Leaving me with blue balls just because you think you’re better than me.”
Words fail you, so you nod instead. His hand slips under your skirt, softly massaging your ass.
“Don’t you think Daddy needs to punish you?”
You whimper, eyes struggling to hold his in your shared reflection. His gaze was burning with lust and fiery.
“I need you to use your words, baby.”
“Yes, daddy, I need to be punished.”
He grinned before flipping up your skirt to reveal the supple curve of your ass to his waiting gaze.
“Fuck, baby, do you know how long I’ve stared at this ass walking away from me, trying not to pop a boner in front of the whole office?”
He grabbed a rough handful.
“So long, baby, much too long. I think ten should suffice. Count for me.”
“Okay, daddy.” You whine.
“Say ‘red’ if it gets to be too much.”
“Yes, daddy.”
The first spank sent shocks running through you. While you expected the pain, you hadn’t anticipated how hard he would hit you, or how the contrast of his warm palm and cool rings would send pleasure singing through your body.
“O-one.”
The word barely made it out of your mouth, your brain hazy with lust.
The subsequent slap on the opposite cheek once again jolts you, and you fall forward, bracing your hands on the cold porcelain sink before you.
“Two.”
By the time he made it to five, tears had begun to well in your eyes, and you were sure your ass was painted a nice shade of crimson. By the time he made it to ten, tears had streaked your cheeks as moans and whimpers left your mouth alongside your garbled counting.
Jimin takes a moment to step back to admire his handiwork, his smirk only widening as he takes in his handprint bruised into your ass.
“Holy shit, baby, you’re so hot. You took your punishment so well. Look at how much of a good girl you are.”
Even in your hazy state, you beamed at his praise.
“Thank you, daddy.”
“I think you deserve a reward, baby girl.”
You nod vigorously at that, eager to feel him finally inside you.
“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”
“Your fingers, daddy, please.”
In an attempt to convey your desperation, you grind your hips into his crotch.
“Patience, baby girl. Where do you want them?”
“In my pussy, daddy. Please. I’m so wet for you.” Your sentence ends with a light sob, the need for him overwhelming you.
“Ask and you shall receive.”
With that, he pulls your panties to the side as he cautiously rubs his pointer finger up and down your soaked slit, before slipping inside.
“Fuck, baby, your dripping. Did spanking you turn you on that much? Is my baby girl that much of a pain slut?”
“Yes, daddy. I’m a pain slut just for you.”
He adds a second finger, and your head drops between your shoulders as he begins to move his digits in and out of you at a quick but intentional pace. Moans fall from your lips, and you let out a sharp squeal when he crooks his fingers and brushes against your g-spot.
“Fuck, daddy, right there.”
He quickens his pace, rubbing you perfectly over and over again as he brings you closer to the point of no return.
“Shit, baby, I’m so hard right now. Your pussy is so tight and wet around my fingers; I just want to sink my cock into you.”
“Please, daddy, I want your cock too. I want you to cum inside me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“
Words fail you as you are sent hurtling into your orgasm, waves of euphoria crashing down around you. Your body is shaking as you collapse against the sink.
Jimin lets out a groan at your fucked-out state, removing his hand from your pussy and bringing it to his lips to taste you. He lets out a moan as he does, freehand going to the front of his pants to rub his prominent erection through the black fabric.
After you recover enough to stand, you turn around and replace his hand with your own, pussy clenching at how big he was.
“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You look up at him under your lashes, and his head falls back at your mock innocence, a light whimper escaping his lips. He tilts his head back up to look at you, hand coming to grab your waist to pull you to his lips.
You taste yourself on his tongue as your hands come to play with his hair, tugging on the strands. He ruts up into you, desperation getting the better of him. He pulls away, revealing his swollen lips and hazy eyes.
“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you now, baby girl.” He makes quick work of his belt zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to let out his cock and balls. The tip is an angry red, beautifully contrasted with the white of his dress shirt. Your mouth waters as you take in its wide girth and slight curve. You’re desperate to taste it, but right now there were more important matters at hand.
You drop your panties, before hopping up on the edge of the sink. Jimin gives his cock a few short tugs before lining up with your dripping entrance. You let out soft moans as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as possible. His hands grab your ass, pulling you to the edge of the sink, before slamming back in. He sets a slow but intentional pace, the sound of skin and desperate moans echoing throughout the small bathroom.
You aren’t going to last long, having already come once, and judging by his quickening pace, neither is he. Your lips meet each other in a messy kiss as he pulls you tight against his body. It’s hard to discern what is a part of you and what is a part of him. Your limbs are so intertwined, that it feels like you are one body.
As his cock continues to drill into your g-spot, stars begin to cover your vision. With the force of a freight train, you come unannounced; your mouth opens in a silent scream. Jimin follows right behind you, painting your walls white with his seed. He lets out a groan of your name, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.
Both of you silently shake as you take a moment to catch your breath and process what just happened. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, watching as his cum pours out of your cunt.
“Fuckkkk, that’s hot.” He groans, tucking himself back into his pants, before wetting a paper towel to help clean you up.
“I’m sorry I thought so poorly of you.” You give him an apologetic grin, as you pull up your underwear.
“It’s okay. I can see where I might have led you to think that I don’t treat girls well.”
“Well, now I can see that I was wrong. You seem like you would be a fantastic boyfriend.” You move to exit the bathroom, eager to get away so you can process the rampage of emotions flooding through you now that your lust wasn’t getting in the way.
“I can be yours.”
You pause at the door.
“What?”
“I could be your boyfriend.”
“I-“
“I’ve liked you ever since the first time I saw you, and I think that maybe you like me, and I just really, really want to be your boyfriend.”
Your mind is racing at a million miles per hour, trying to process everything that’s happening. One moment he was fucking you like it was your last day on the earth, and now he’s standing in front of you, pleading for you to make him yours. You aren’t sure what to make of it.
“I think I would really like that too, Jimin,” he beams,” “but everything is going so fast, and I just need a little time to take everything in.”
His face falls a little, but he nods understandingly.
“That’s fair. Let me take you on a date, at least.”
You grin.
“Okay.”
“Coffee on Saturday?”
“Sounds great.”
#changeswithluv#bangtanhq#btswriterscollective#btswritingcafe#btsbookclub#bangtanarmynet#fanfic#one-shot#smut#bts#jimin#park jimin#bangtan#fluff#angst
390 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Here’s my English translation of Mahiru’s Voice Drama - Love is Mine I couldn’t find an English translation from anyone else, so I did it myself. I’m not super good at japanese, but I think I got the important things down. Feel free to use/post this translation wherever you like.
Mahiru: (humming)
(distant footsteps)
Mahiru: Prison guard is almost here~
Es: (footsteps) (door opens) (door shuts) Sorry to keep you waiting, Prisoner Number 6, Mahiru.
Mahiru: Ah! It’s like-
Es: Huh?
Mahiru: (giggles) It’s sort of like a date- It’s making my heart beat fast… it’s sort of thrilling!
Es: I heard Yuno say something similar, female prisoners seem to say things like that.
Mahiru: Eh? It’s super romantic, right? Thanks to you, I’m having fun every day.
Es: (sigh) It is interesting here…
Mahiru: Ah! So you agree~!
Es: Understand the situation, Mahiru. You’re in here because you’ve committed a murder, not so you can play.
Mahiru: Murder… Yeah, I don’t really understand how what I did was murder.
Es: We’re going to do an interrogation to uncover your sin, starting from now. The situation is far from being romantic.
Mahiru: Sorry, sorry… I get it.
Es: MILGRAM exists to reveal the sins of the prisoners, and make a moral decision. For that reason, let’s talk about some things.
Mahiru: Lets talk~! I get to spend time with the Prison Guard, I’m so happy!
Es: It’s no use trying to slow down my pace like that. (muttering) You prisoners are always like this…
Mahiru: What were you just talking about?
Es: It was nothing! …Let’s start the interrogation. That’s right… M-
Mahiru: Yes! I’m Mahiru Shiina, 22 years old~! Thanks for coming here to meet me!
Es: I’m the one leading this interrogation! (muttering) What is this pattern?! It’s the same as with Yuno… It’s fine… I need to calm down.
Mahiru: Okay! What about you?
Es: Huh?
Mahiru: Your name and age?
Es: …
Mahiru: Your name is…? Your age is…?
Es: Es…. I’m around 15…
Mahiru: (clasps hands) Fifteen years old! That’s young for a prison guard, isn’t it? At my age, I’m like your big sister! Come on, tell me anything!
Es: Oi… Mahiru, why am I-
Mahiru: Hey, hey what kind of name is “Es”? It doesn’t sound Japanese - where is it from?
Es: … I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I am Es, other than that I don’t know anything. I don’t have any memories.
Mahiru: You have amnesia!? You poor thing…! You actually have it?
Es: I don’t see why you care. I don’t worry about it, it lets me concentrate on my work without having any extra thoughts or memories to distract me.
Mahiru: That’s so interesting, Prison guard! Let’s get to know your personality!
Es: My… personality? I’m…
(high pitched ringing)
Mahiru: Prison guard, what’s wrong?
Es: Uh, excuse me.
Mahiru: Are you feeling okay? That was too tough of a question, wasn’t it? Herbal tea is good for remembering- green tea especially- It activates the brain.
Es: Oh, I see… Lets try that… No! I don’t give a damn about myself right now!
Mahiru: (disappointed hum) That’s no fun.
Es: Why were you even asking me these questions?
Mahiru: But… But Prison Guard… I just wanted to have some mutual understanding. You want to know about me, so I want to know about you!
Es: Well, I suppose that’s alright.
Mahiru: Yay! In this situation, I think the first step is to understand each other. There’s a lot I want to talk about so I can know you well… Es: Hm… Does an approach like that really work?
Mahiru: Yes! If you have the courage to lay yourself bare, the other person will be able to talk to you with peace of mind. Es: Self-disclosure reciprocity… But this only works if you already have knowledge of yourself. Mahiru: Eh? Self-disclosure reciprocity..? Es: I’m gathering information so I can get to know you better. It was in this book I read. Mahiru: Haah? Prison guard reads too? “Love-Talk of 1000 Girls in Kanto” is good too! Es: …What’s that? Mahiru: Eh? You haven’t read it? It’s all about how to make love special!
Es: Make love?!
Mahiru: Uh-huh, make love! It has features on fashion, trends, and fortune-telling - things that will help you find love! It helped me to become a stronger, brighter me!
Es: (sigh) I think I misunderstood. Please forget what I said.
Mahiru: Oh, so that’s how it is! Prison guard must be interested in romance~! 15 years old is the height of puberty, after all. Is there anyone you like?
Es: I’m not very interested in that kind of thing.
Mahiru: Eh? No, no. It’s not good to say you dislike love, right? Love is like a little explosion, it’s just that you’re a little late. Even if you aren’t interested now, it’ll explode some day! Someday you’ll have a fateful encounter..!
Es: You sure speak of it well.
Mahiru: At first, you’ll deny it. I do the same, but then I feel like a girl in a shoujo manga - it’s like being in some different world~!
Es: I’m not sure… Is love really that important?
Mahiru: It’s important.
Es: (small sigh)
Mahiru: It’s important. Above all else.
Es: I see. That’s yours, prisoner number 6, Mahiru.
Mahiru: Eh? What is?
Es: Somehow, as I’ve interrogated people they’ve shown me something. What they cherish.
Mahiru: Love is something very important to me (giggles) It’s not like I was hiding it!
Es: Could it be, that your murder was derived from it?
Mahiru: (silence) It seems so… I think it was love.
Es: It looks like your love ended in death.
Mahiru: It… seems so.
Es: I see. A song produced from a murderous love affair… It’s not an unusual story.
Mahiru: No, it’s not like that. I didn’t want to kill anyone. I just- It just happened.
Es: What do you mean?
Mahiru: I won’t say. I don’t know enough about Prison Guard yet!
Es: So there has to be a mutual understanding, huh?
Mahiru: (giggles) Yeah, that sort of thing!
Es: This sure is troublesome. Oh well, do you think what you did can be forgiven, or not?
Mahiru: There’d be no point in living if I can’t be forgiven for what I’ve done. (laughs)
Es: So you could be fine living after you’ve committed a murder? You sound like a dangerous person.
Mahiru: Ah-! No, what I meant was… it’s suddenly gotten all messy… I just don’t want to kill people at all! …but… I decided to live for love.
Es: For love…
Mahiru: I know the wonderful feeling of loving someone- it’s amazing! Every day is shining and colorful! The normal scenery changes to something out of a drama or a movie!
Es: I’m not following.
Mahiru: Ehm… I don’t have a huge vocabulary, so I can’t really explain it well… But you’ll understand one day, I’m sure!
Es: I wonder…
Mahiru: Without love, my life would be dull and tasteless, so if you say love’s no good, then there’s no point in living.
Es: But your love kills people.
Mahiru: You’re so mean…
Es: Your love killed a person, but would you love someone again?
Mahiru: I want you to tell me… Is what I did unforgivable?
Es: What?
Mahiru: I wonder if I should still love someone, even if it would end up killing them.
Es: (silence)
Mahiru: Hey, Prison guard, tell me! Is it unforgivable for me to love someone?
Es: I don’t know. What you’re saying now sounds a bit different than what you were saying before.
Mahiru: Is that so… I suppose that’s true… I’m feeling strange… I don’t know…
Es: Not yet…
Mahiru: Eh?
Es: I just don’t know yet. I don’t make these decisions immediately, you have to wait.
Mahiru: (sad/surprised noise)
Es: To be honest, this is one of my weak points. That’s why, as you said, I should get to know you better.
Mahiru: Prison guard…
Es: I am your Prison Guard. I don’t make decisions on a whim because I’m not sure if you’re forgivable. I’m here to judge you, and decide whether or not to forgive you of your sins.
Mahiru: (confused noise) (excited noise) So you’ll keep watching me?
Es: Yes, that’s my job.
Mahiru: (squeals) (gets out of chair)
Es: What are you-
Mahiru: What happened..?
Es: What are you talking about?
Mahiru: You’re enthusiastic about work… I love that!
Es: Stop fooling around.
Mahiru: (panting) That’s no good, (haah), be careful! Um.. Um.. If you’re too kind to me, (leans in) you might die! Okay?
Es: I’m not trying to be kind. I don’t understand how you got that from what I said before. I can only promise you this: Rest assured, I won’t die no matter what you do.
Mahiru: (gasp)
Es: Because I’m… The Prison Guard of MILGRAM.
Mahiru: (yells) (gets up and starts to run)
(bell starts to chime, stone grinding)
Mahiru: Wh- What? Did my voice trigger a collapse?!
Es: No. It seems like the time is up on this little game. What a pain… I have no choice but to end this as usual. You all…
Mahiru: Um… Um… I’m a little nervous about singing… I’m not very good at it…
Es: You won’t be singing. Your mental landscape will appear as a song and video without any conscious input from you. Mahiru: Oh, it’ll be visible then… That’s a little ridiculous… Es: I suppose so. The intensity of the video is different for every person… It all depends on how you perceive your sins.
Mahiru: Ah…
Es: Either way, I’ll be able to see how you see the world.
Mahiru: I see, I see! It’ll be unique to me, because the world of love was so beautiful to me. Oh! Prison guard, you’ll be able to understand the amazingness of love through me!
Es: I’ll hear it, too.
Mahiru: Huh? That too?
Es: It’ll be good knowing something that you don’t. It’s necessary for me to acquire various knowledge to get to know you. That’s not bad, either.
Mahiru: (gasp) I… love how hardworking you are…
Es: Shut up!
Mahiru: It was just a little flirting…
Es: (sigh) After we’ve talked, I don’t feel as though I’ve been working very hard…
Es: Do you have anything left to ask?
Mahiru: Eh… Um… Just one!
Es: What? You still have more?
Mahiru: Um… can I call you “Es-kun?”
Es: NO COMMENT (turns around and leaves)
Es: (sighs) Prisoner number 6, Mahiru. Alright then, show me your sin.
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
Remus Lupin is very young when he joins the Order of the Phoenix to fight in the war. Young, but not naive. He knows that war isn't an exciting adventure with heroic battles, but pain, loss and grief. He has known this ever since his boyfriend was killed by Death Eaters when he was just seventeen years old. It only makes him more determined to fight.
And maybe the things we lose really do have a way of coming back to us in the end.
Wolfstar angst, but with a sappy, happy ending!
Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”
Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.
Always meant to come back
The young man, almost a boy really, barely twenty years old, blinks his eyes open. He squints against the bright light in the room, and tries to sit up, but winches in pain and falls back on the bed.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Alastor warns. “We’ve had a Healer patch you up as good as possible, but your body has taken quite a hit, with all those hexes and curses thrown at you.”
“What...” the young man begins to ask.
“You’ll be fine,” Alastor ensures him. “You’re just going to have to take a lot of rest, at least until your wounds have healed. Especially the cuts on your back, probably from a Lashing Hex, may be dangerous if they’ll start bleeding again.”
The young man looks at him for a moment, pale, weary-eyed, with a deep cut on his cheek. “You’re not a Death Eater,” he states.
Alastor laughs shortly. “No, rather the opposite I’d say.”
The young man just looks at him questioningly.
“I’m an Auror,” Alastor clarifies. “Head of the Auror’s office at the Ministry.”
“That can’t be.” The young man shakes his head. “That would mean...”
“You’re safe,” Alastor says.
The young man lets his head fall back on the pillow and closes his eyes, releasing a shaky breath.
After a short silence, Alastor finally asks the question that’s been at the forefront of his mind ever since finding the young man. “You’re Sirius Black, aren’t you?”
The young man opens his eyes again. “Yeah,” he replies.
“Everyone thinks you’ve been dead for at least two years.”
Alastor remembers the story. It was one of the first tragedies of the war. The disowned heir of the house of Black, only seventeen years old at the time, not even graduated from Hogwarts yet, murdered by a group of Death Eaters. The Black family was already high on the list of persons of interest, due to them advocating for blood supremacy and openly supporting He Who Must Not Be Named’s regime. Their eldest son, however, who had already been known as the first Black to not be sorted in Slytherin house, had fallen out with his family and hadn’t been living with them for over a year at the time of the murder. Or, well, alleged murder.
“Two years?” Sirius mumbles. “I don’t know whether it seems like yesterday that I was still living my old life, or whether being at school actually feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe both.”
“What I gathered from the story at the time,” Alastor continues. “Was that a group of students from Slytherin house had purposely leaked information to you that your younger brother was to be sworn in as a Death Eater, and without properly thinking it through, you left to try and stop him and get him away from that evil alignment.”
“I did,” Sirius simply replies.
“That was an idiotic plan,” Alastor says. “Going on your own to a place you knew would be infested with Death Eaters, to save someone you didn’t even know wanted to be saved.”
Sirius huffs a laugh. “You sound just like Moony when he was telling me not to go.”
Alastor doesn’t know what a Moony is, so he just continues. “You never came back. They caught you, or maybe it had all been a trap to begin with, as the Slytherins who spilled the information later all became Death Eaters, and maybe some of them had even already joined at the time. Either way, the word spread that you had been killed by the Death Eaters.”
Hogwarts had been in shock, Alastor remembers. Not only did the death of a schoolmate make the war suddenly seem so much more real, Sirius Black had been bright, promising, loved. It had been a blow to almost the entire school to lose him.
“That’s what happened. Well,” Sirius gestures vaguely at himself. “Except for the being killed part, obviously.”
“Why didn’t they kill you?”
“My irresistible charm?” Sirius attempts with a weak smile. “No,” he then sighs with a pained look in his eyes. “It was my little brother. He said he’d only join their cause if they agreed to let me live. Most of the Death Eaters just wanted to kill us both then, not deeming him very important anyway, but my parents didn’t have a second spare heir ready, so they couldn’t afford to lose another son. They convinced them to imprison me instead of kill me.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s the only time the power and influence of ‘The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black’ did me any good. Although I have often wished they had just killed me. Some of them ignored me, others liked to taunt me, and a few immensely enjoyed hurting me.”
Alastor feels a rare surge of empathy. It was a cruel fate indeed, to be locked up for so long under those conditions, and he had only been seventeen, barely more than a child.
“So how did I end up here?” Sirius asks.
“We placed a Tracing Charm on Goyle, and noticed he was regularly visiting a manor in the countryside, on paper owned by the Rosier family. This made us believe it to be an enemy headquarters, so we planned a raid. We disconnected the house from the Floo Network and placed an anti-apparition charm over the whole premises, before we invaded the place. Unfortunately, the ones present were in possession of illegal Portkeys, I still have to ask Mundungus Fletcher how they could’ve gotten those, and managed to get away. Upon searching the house, though, we found you locked in one of the rooms, severely injured and barely conscious.”
“Of the people I knew, is anyone... Do you know if anyone has been...?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Alastor answers. “To my knowledge, no one from your year at Hogwarts has been killed. I don’t think that there’s anyone you may have known among the victims.”
Sirius lets out a relieved breath. “I didn’t think there was either, as the Death Eaters would have jumped at the opportunity to rub it in my face had they hurt someone I knew, but still.”
“Of course, I don’t know about your brother,” Alastor adds. “As he’s not on our side.”
A flash of pain shows on Sirius’ face for a brief moment, but he quickly composes himself. “I’m sure Regulus is okay,” he mumbles. “If he’d been gone, I would’ve been dead.”
“The Ministry is doing a shite job fighting this war!” Sirius throws down the Daily Prophet on his bed. “Half of the people in this photo is either a traitor or under the Imperius Curse!”
Alastor glances down at the paper. On the front page is an article about Barty Crouch, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his plan to fight violence with violence and legalise the Unforgivable Curses. The article is accompanied by several photos: Barty Crouch and his family, some other high-placed Ministry officials such as Augustus Rockwood and Walden McNair, and the heads of the influential Mulciber and Malfoy families, who are often thought to influence, or bribe, the Ministry.
Sirius is getting better, and he’s already proven his worth by passing all the valuable information he managed to pick up during his imprisonment on to Alastor.
“And the measures that they’ve been taking are hardly going to be sufficient to win this war,” Sirius adds.
“Well,” Alastor replies calmly. “Considering how corrupt the Ministry is, it’s a good thing they’re not taking more measures.”
“How can you care so little? You’re part of the Ministry, and forced to fight a losing battle.”
“That would be concerning indeed, if it was really the Ministry fighting this battle.”
Sirius raises an eyebrow, prompting Alastor to continue.
“There’s another group that forms the real opposition to He Who Must Not Be Named. A secret order of witches and wizards personally recruited by Dumbledore himself, fighting the Death Eaters behind the scenes.”
“I want to join,” Sirius immediately says.
“What you’ve been true is enough to traumatize someone for a lifetime,” Alastor says. “Are you sure you want to engage yourself even further with this war?”
“Bollocks,” Sirius replies. “I still have great magical skills and abilities, I was the best dueller at Hogwarts and I know better than anyone how these Death Eaters think and operate. You need me. You want me. You don’t give a crap about my emotional state, or you wouldn’t even have mentioned it.”
Alastor supresses a smile. Sirius is right. Alastor is eager to get him on board, but he felt like he had to at least symbolically offer him a way out, never expecting Sirius to actually take it. Truth is, his only goal is to win this war, by whatever means possible, and he doesn’t have it in him to care about an individual’s mental health.
“Very well then. Come to think of it, you might even see some familiar faces.”
“Lily, you look so...”
“Remus Lupin, if your next sentence contains the word ‘big’ or ‘huge’, then in Merlin’s name, I will hex you.”
“Eh... radiant?”
A very pregnant Lily rolls her eyes as she sits on the couch across from Remus. “I’m a bloody whale, I’m completely bloated and I feel like I’m just peeing all day.”
“Isn’t she just glowing?” James appears at Remus’ side, staring at Lily like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, which she probably is.
Remus chuckles. “You’re a very lucky man, Prongs.”
James sits down next to his wife, and Peter sits down next to Remus, while they all wait for the Order meeting to begin. The Prewetts arrive shortly after, and Marlene and Dorcas rush over to Lily to ask her a thousand questions on how she’s feeling. James just stares with an adoring, fond look, while Lily describes in detail how all her bodily functions have changed now she’s so very pregnant.
“Ah, to be young and in love,” Peter says.
Remus tries not to show any change in expression, but he can’t help his smile slightly faltering.
Unfortunately, Peter notices. “I mean, of course you know... I didn’t mean to...”
“It’s fine,” Remus says curtly. “Don’t worry about it.” His time of being young and in love is over. Yet, he doesn’t resent James for his happiness, just because his was taken away from him. After all, he knows that for James as well, not a day goes by on which he doesn’t miss him.
Professor McGonagall walks over to Lily to ask her about her due date, and Lily happily informs her that the baby is expected to be born this summer.
“From this September on, you’ll have eleven more years to prepare for Gryffindor’s next trouble maker!” James says.
“James Potter,” Lily scolds. “We agreed to not pressure this child about which house he should sorted into. That already goes into effect before he’s born.”
“Honestly professor,” James whispers too loud to professor McGonagall. “I already love this kid so bloody much. I wouldn’t even mind if he’ll end up in Slytherin!”
McGonagall chuckles. “You know, James, you really don’t have to call me professor anymore.”
James looks absolutely horrified at the idea.
Remus is glad they still see professor McGonagall so often. He doesn’t think he would’ve been able to make it through his last year at Hogwarts without her.
He’s always happy to see her, even though each time it reminds him of that one conversation. At first, he had been angry at him that he had gone anyway, and angry at himself for not realizing that of course he’d go anyway. Then, there had only been the anxious waiting for him to come back, until McGonagall had called Remus, James and Peter into her office and with more distress than he had ever seen her in, told them that he was not going to come back.
James had immediately started crying. Heart-wrenching sobs that went through the bone for the loss of his closest companion, his best friend, his brother. Remus had felt... nothing. It was like he heard the words, understood what the words meant, but did not comprehend what the words implied.
He hadn’t just lost someone he could talk to, someone he could trust, someone he could hold on to. He had lost a small home somewhere on the countryside just outside of London, with large fireplace in the living room and a small shed outside for the motorcycle. He had lost a large garden with an aviary for the owls and enough space for the dogs to run around. He had lost taking time off from working as a teacher and a Healer to spend a few weeks by the coast each summer. He had lost summer evenings in the garden, inviting friends over for a barbecue, a small Quidditch field in the backyard, little children running around. He had lost a future he never thought he could actually have, but had set his heart on anyway.
It took a week. A week of feeling nothing. A week of seeing the worried stares and hearing the constant whispers from his schoolmates. A week before the pain and grief hit him at full force.
He’s pulled from his thoughts by Marlene’s voice. “Remember, when Moody gets here, don’t mention the Rosier manor-raid.”
Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, McKinnon. I don’t have a death wish.”
Remus shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine how pissed he must be about it. All that planning, just for each and every Death Eater to get away.”
“He’s gonna be livid,” Marlene agrees. “This is not gonna be a happy meeting.”
“I was so disappointed when I heard it,” Lily sighs. “It felt like we finally had something on them, and now we have to start all over.”
Remus wonders what kind of missions they’re going to assign people to this time. Lily has scolded him before for always volunteering for the most dangerous ones, but to Remus it seems perfectly logical. If he goes, his friends don’t have to go, and he has the least to live for anyway. He said as much one time. James had cried and Lily had yelled at him, so he doesn’t say it anymore. At least not out loud.
It isn’t long before Moody enters the room, looking as battered and grizzled as ever, and commands the meeting to begin. Everyone immediately gathers around the table, as no one, except Dumbledore and McGonagall when it’s absolutely necessary, dares to oppose Alastor Moody.
“Right. We have much to discuss,” Moody says in his growling voice. “First point of order, I’ve gotten confirmation regarding our suspicions about Mulciber, and we should from now on assume that each person working in his vicinity is under the influence of the Imperius Curse and cannot be trusted. Moreover, I received intelligence that Augustus Rockwood, Walden McNair and Barty Crouch Jr. are traitors.”
Everyone sucks in a breath of surprise and disbelief.
“Mr. Crouch’s own son?” McGonagall asks. “An accusation like that can put us in a lot of trouble. Where did you get this kind of intelligence, Alastor?”
“I obtained it from the Rosier manor-raid,” Moody replies, and another wave of surprise goes around the table. No one had expected Moody to bring up the failed attempt himself.
Remus frowns. He has never underestimated the enemy and he knows the Death Eaters aren’t stupid enough to leave a list of names of everyone who’s secretly a traitor. And if they did, it can only be a trap, but Moody must know that better than anyone.
“How?” McGonagall asks, apparently on the same train of thought.
Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”
Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.
James has gotten pale as a sheet and Lily has automatically grabbed his hand, while Peter is throwing worried glances in Remus’ direction. Professor McGonagall has her lips pressed tightly together, and is looking at Moody with a look that clearly says ‘you better have a very good reason for this’.
Moody, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, just keeps talking. If his previous words had been shocking, it’s nothing compared to the effect his next words produce. “You must have heard of it, I believe some of you were at Hogwarts when the whole ordeal took place. As it turns out, he was actually held captive by the Death Eaters. We found him locked up in the Rosier manor in quite a state, but we managed to patch him up, and he was able to give us quite some valuable information.”
Remus hears the words, but can’t process their meaning. He just stares, waiting for Moody to say ‘just kidding’ or wake up from this dream. Nothing happens for a long moment, until Marlene breaks the silence. “But everyone gave the same account... They all said... How?”
Moody makes a dismissive gesture. “There was some family drama involved I believe. But he can tell you himself in due time. He has agreed to join the Order, actually.”
“You’re lying.” Moody finally looks up at hearing James’ angry tone. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”
“Calm down, Potter,” Moody replies. “We can talk about it after the meeting, if we must.”
Remus only realises he has stood up when he notices everyone looking at him. He gives Moody a steely look. “Let me see him.”
“Lupin, we’re in the middle of a meeting. We still have much to discuss.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your damned meeting!” Remus shouts. “Let. Me. See. Him.”
Moody regards him for a moment, and then nods.
Maybe Moody is tricking them as a test. Maybe Moody is delusional and there’s no one there. Maybe someone has tricked Moody and is leading them into a trap. Maybe Moody is under the influence of the Imperius Curse himself and is leading them into a trap. Remus goes over every option in is head as he, James and Lily use the Floo network to go Moody’s safe house. Every option except one. The one he doesn’t allow himself to even think of.
He realises that many option would put them in immediate danger, but he only cares for James and Lily’s sake. If this really is a cruel trick, it’d almost be a relief to be killed right after. Even without allowing himself to hope, he couldn’t handle the disappointment.
But they step into the room, and there he is.
In the living room, fast asleep on the couch, covered by a thin blanket. One hand dangling over the edge of the couch, the other on his stomach, his chest softly going up and down in time with his breathing.
He’s less muscular and a lot thinner than before. His face looks very pale in sharp contrast with his dark, now very long, hair, with a healing cut on his cheek and a receding bruise under his eye.
But it’s him, unmistakably him.
Odd enough, the first thought that occurs to Remus is that he has always wanted Sirius to grow his hair out and that he hopes he doesn’t cut it too soon. At this moment, he seems unable to form any other coherent thought.
Suddenly, he feels James’ hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him forward. “Go to him.”
Remus stumbles forward. He falls down on his knees next to the couch in front of Sirius’ face. He reaches out a trembling hand and touches Sirius’ cheek.
Sirius’ eyes, those eyes nothing can compare to, fly open. Startled, Sirius sits up with a bewildered look. He first sees James and Lily standing there, looking at him.
“Prongs? Evans?”
Then he turns his head towards Remus, and his eyes, filled with emotion, widen.
“Moony?” His voice slightly breaks.
“Hi,” Remus whispers.
Sirius reaches out and gently strokes his thumb over Remus’ cheek. Remus only now realises that there are tears streaming down his face. They stare at each other for a breathless moment. Then, at the same time, they move and wrap each other in an impossibly tight embrace, both whispering unnecessary apologies, as neither thinks there’s anything to forgive the other for.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a stubborn arse, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t even say goodbye. I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I meant to come back. I always meant to come back.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t come and get you. I’m sorry I never came to bring you home. I gave up on you, and I’m so, so sorry.”
Eventually, James can’t hold back anymore and he flies forward to embrace is brother, and upon seeing him desperately crying, Sirius starts to cry as well.
When he’s more composed, James starts asking Sirius a hundred questions to check if it’s really him. Sirius effectively shuts him up by informing Lily that James stole one of her T-shirts in fifth year and slept with it in his bed for two years.
“I hate you so much, Padfoot! And I missed you more than you’ll ever know, and don’t you ever leave me again!”
This exchange is followed by Sirius going on for ten minutes: “Evans, you’re pregnant. You’re pregnant with a child. Prongs’ child. Evans, you’re pregnant with Prongs’ child. You’re having a baby. Prongs is having a baby. You and Prongs are having a baby. Together. You let Prongs get you pregnant.”
All the while, Remus is still sitting on the ground next to him, their hands firmly clasped together.
Eventually, they have to go back to the Order meeting, and of course want to inform the others. Peter will be ecstatic and professor McGonagall might cry. Lily kisses Sirius on his cheek and James hugs him again, after letting him promise five times that he’ll still be there tomorrow and he’s not going to disappear again.
“You know, Moony, if you want to go to the Order meeting, you’ll have to let go of my hand,” Sirius says with a small smile, without making any attempt of releasing his grip himself.
Remus smiles back. “No, I’m never letting you go again.”
#my tumblr writing#wolfstar#wolfstar fanfiction#wolfstar fic#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#sirius black#remus lupin#remus x sirius#james potter#lily evans#jily#alastor moody#first wizarding war#hurt sirius black#james potter is a good friend#wolfstar angst
105 notes
·
View notes
Photo
I haven’t known true peace since I realised that Wei Wuxian actually believes this. He’s not just saying dumb shit here, or oversimplifying things to be dramatic--he truly thought of it this way, even back then. Even though nobody else did.
This line has always confused me and maybe I just haven’t given it enough thought. Maybe it’s obvious. But everyone has such a different perspective at that section of the story, including the audience. And that’s part of the tragedy of it all, really, is how much the situation was twisted up--both on purpose, by the Jins, and by simple circumstance--to the point that nobody was on the same page. But the extent of Wei Wuxian’s didn’t really hit me until recently, when puzzling back over this particular scene.
(In my defense, it was easy for me to miss until now, because it’s mixed in with Wei Ying admiring Lan Zhan admiring the moon and followed by Lan Zhan calling Wei Ying out on his “I’m fine” bullshit before carrying him down the stairs.)
At first pass, all I could think was, “Wei Wuxian, are we even watching the same show?” He and Jiang Cheng were rivals as much as they were best friends as much as they were brothers, and frequently at odds.
They never really had a “them two against the world” vibe outside of their Twin Heroes of Yunmeng promise. Wei Wuxian loved the world, and making friends, and did so freely and gladly. He and Jiang Cheng really only ever stood together against really blatant enemies like the Wen before and during the Sunshot campaign, and by the time the Jins and the rest of the prominent sect/clan leaders were at their throats, things were definitely falling apart.
They not only had a fraught childhood together in that household to begin with, but they also haven’t been truly on the same side since the fall of Lotus Pier when it all came to a head; the slow dissolution of their close bond is a huge underlying theme of the story as we suffer through the emotional torture of watching their desperate love create a wider and wider chasm between them, littered with broken promises and unspoken words as they slowly forget how to know each other.
And they really never stood together against Lan Wangji?? Ever?
While Jiang Cheng was regarding him (and every other human being and activity) as a rival for his shige’s attention and proof of his own social ineptitude (a potential cause for worry in his earnest role as sect heir and representative of his clan), Wei Wuxian was utterly enamoured. By the time Wei Wuxian had his rounds of falling-out with Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng regarded him as an ally who stood by his side for months and kept his hope alive while helping him scour the land for all traces of his missing brother and was really confused why Wei Wuxian was being a jackass.
In-between all this, they travel and fight together--all three of them--on more than one occasion, and even go to war together.
We’re frequently shown glimpses, scenes, framing, setups, that show us Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji standing together without or apart from Jiang Cheng as well. Because reasons.
From Lan Wangji’s point of view, he was never not on Wei Wuxian’s side when it counted. He just had trouble communicating this effectively at times, especially while Wei Wuxian was in a constant push-pull with himself and everyone else about what he should be allowed to want and have.
From Jiang Cheng’s point of view, Wei Wuxian was failing to be on his side again and again, and it was never really about his own loyalty, because he was the only one still keeping their promise.
And certainly by Jin Ling’s one-month celebration, they both seemed to be on the same page that they were coming together as Wei Wuxian’s important people, if not actively friends by then, and that they were of one mind in getting Wei Wuxian back around his family and back into society. One of the most shattering things anyone has ever had the nerve to tell me straight into the void that once was my heart is that they (along with Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan) were probably so excited to see Wei Wuxian and proudly show him how well they were all getting along.
So I, humble viewer of episodes, watch all of this happening, and then narrow my eyes at Wei Wuxian in disbelief. Who does he think he is? Jiang Cheng, always at his side? With Lan Wangji, always opposite?
Why does this moment of self-reflection even exist? When he could have taken this opportunity to have some kind of flashback about Lan Wangji and the moon, as the rest of us are? Is it just to torment me, in particular?
But then I thought of three things. One, his point of view at the time. Two, his point of view in this episode. And three, the phrasing of what he’s saying here.
The phrasing feels important. Wei Wuxian simply says he thought Jiang Cheng would be at his side/on his side/by his side, and he thought Lan Wangji would be opposite. Opposite doesn’t necessarily mean a direct rival or enemy. It can mean standing for the opposing viewpoint, or having an opposing position.
Given that he’s directly comparing it to how he feels right now, it makes sense. As of this episode, he’s just had his real first encounter with Jiang Cheng, and it was pretty horrible. He had to deal with Jin Ling and his curse, between now and then, but that isn’t really going to be what’s on his mind.
I might be like, “Ah, yes, running away from Jiang Cheng to go fuck off with Lan Wangji, typical Wei Wuxian scenario, even if I support it especially in this particular instance.” Jiang Cheng might feel that way, too, right down to “Thank fuck he ran away like he always does and didn’t call my bluff about killing him a thousand times over because that would have been embarrassing.”
But to Wei Wuxian, the circumstances are completely different. He’s not running off on an adventure after which he absolutely intends to return home. He’s leaving with what he sees as confirmation (which he was trying to avoid) that Jiang Cheng truly hates him, and the knowledge/reminder that he may never see him again because he will absolutely try his hardest not to. And he’s returning to Lan Wangji, who is his adventure, but also, increasingly, his home.
He can’t really think of it in those terms, yet, though. So he thinks about it as sides.
Even though they and Jiang Cheng are never truly pitted against each other in the present any more than Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were ever pitted against Lan Wangji in the past (that is to say, one or two tense scenes and mostly a lot of wibbly gray areas indicating that there’s a lot more going on in everyone’s heads), Wei Wuxian sees Lan Wangji on the “Wei Wuxian Should Not Be Dead” team and Jiang Cheng sulking on the opposite shore.
Or, at the very least, the teams are “Leave Wei Wuxian Alone” and “Wei Wuxian Needs To Fucking Stop.”
Which reminds him how different it all used to be.
And even if we’re like, “Was it, though?” that’s not his perspective on it. He didn’t see all the pieces that the rest of us saw. He never knew the lengths Lan Wangji was going to in order to try and help him, the rules he broke. He never saw the punishment Lan Wangji endured for simply visiting him. Even Jiang Cheng saw Lan Wangji stand up for him publicly after the heart-wrenching scene in the rain. Wei Wuxian never did.
He only saw Lan Wangji trying his damnedest to get him to give up demonic cultivation. He only heard Lan Wangji’s attempts to convince him to get better that he never really understood. He only ever perceived resistance and disapproval.
Wei Wuxian was expecting Lan Wangji to come and personally try to stop him at Nightless City. Wei Wuxian woke up alive and took one look at Lan Wangji (and softly gayly smiled and took a second look for good measure) and took off. Wei Wuxian woke up again with all his memories and the knowledge he was loved and missed after sixteen years and asked if Lan Wangji had ever really believed him. Wei Wuxian has been slowly coming to terms with the fact that Lan Wangji wholeheartedly and unreservedly does, now. So, to him, it’s the idea that Lan Wangji has “switched sides” as it were.
And Jiang Cheng?
Wei Wuxian thinks he and Jiang Cheng were unquestionably on the same side right up until Jiang Yanli died.
Jiang Cheng was angry, was upset, was in pain. They fought. Promises were broken. But that didn’t mean they were on opposing sides, not really, surely.
They were on the same side about questionable cultivation methods not being questioned as long as it made Yunmeng Jiang strong where it was currently weak. They were on the same side about it not being anyone else’s business. Their fight was faked, even if the separation had to be real.
Wei Wuxian was still standing by Jiang Cheng’s side in prioritising Yunmeng Jiang’s political standing. Jiang Cheng was still standing by his side in caring about their home and their sister. He brought shijie, who brought soup. And something about their public break and Jiang Cheng’s account kept the other sects from piling on Wei Wuxian right at the start.
At Nightless City, while he expected Lan Wangji to be there countering him, he did not expect any of Yunmeng Jiang to be there to actually fight him. Of course Jiang Cheng was there--how could Jiang Cheng not show up? One of the great clans? And they’re not really supposed to have anything to do with one another anymore, right? Wei Wuxian was a traitor to Yunmeng Jiang, right? Of course Jiang Cheng had to show up.
But as long as Wei Wuxian was in control of the resentful energy and puppets, not a single Yunmeng Jiang disciple, let alone Jiang Cheng himself, was so much as looked at sideways.
Jin Zixuan had been killed. Jiang Yanli would never forgive him. His found family full of innocents had been slaughtered by power-hungry hypocrites. The entire cultivation world was after his soul. He was a dead man walking. He’d been hallucinating for hours. His mind was mostly gone.
And he thought, “Lan Wangji is here to put an end to me at last. It is time to fight.”
And he thought, “Jiang Cheng is not truly part of this. I must not touch Yunmeng Jiang.”
Both of these things wound me deeply. The first, because it’s demonstrably untrue. The second, because it might not have been nearly as true as everyone (including Jiang Cheng) wishes, though at least we’ll never really have to know, will we.
And then Jiang Yanli died.
We can see the story happening in stages, the various breakdowns and buildups and breakdowns again. And we always knew this ending was coming. But to him, that’s the moment everything truly, truly broke.
Though, I feel the need to point out, hysterically, he still wasn’t opposite Jiang Cheng even then. Because Jiang Cheng, he believes, wanted him dead (even if he couldn’t do it by his own hand) just as much as Wei Wuxian wanted himself dead. And Lan Wangji did not want him dead. So he stood in solidarity with Jiang Cheng one last time, did right by Jiang Cheng and Yunmeng Jiang and their family one last time, as he yanked his hand away from Lan Wangji.
Only now, in the present, are Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng truly in opposition. And only now are Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji on the same page. Supposedly.
One of Wei Wuxian’s particular character journeys post-timeskip is finally having the concept of interpersonal nuance smashed into his head in a way that still allows him to be himself and follow his own moral codes and build relationships in his own way. His assorted encounters with Jiang Cheng leading up to their reconciliation (as well as the juniors and the sect leaders and other characters) all demonstrate that nicely.
But in this scene, it really is that straightforward to him. Hell, it’s even presented such to us for a hot minute.
If for no other reason than the direct parallel of Lan Wangji finding out about Wei Wuxian’s fear of dogs and protecting him both physically and emotionally without question, and Jiang Cheng already knowing about it but using Fairy against Wei Wuxian until it triggered him into a panic-induced ptsd flashback seriously what a fucking dick move though.
So, perhaps it’s understandable, between Wei Wuxian’s misconceptions of the past and his current experiences in the present and the fact that these are the only two people left to him in all the world.
He believes the bitter irony of fate has dictated that he can never have them both. He was only ever going to have one of them and he never considered it would truly be this one.
And for just one moment, before he can be glad of his gain, he has to mourn the inevitable loss that comes with it. For that one moment, even seeing Lan Wangji so beautiful in the moonlight, so openly and invitingly waiting for him, that’s all he can think about.
It haunts me.
#wei wuxian always thought he knew better than lan wangji what was good for lan wangji#even when it was wei wuxian's death#his *trust me; you're better off without me* followed him over that cliff#lan wangji has since pieced all this together and come to terms with it#but jiang cheng is going to figure it out someday#and yell for like three solid hours#and then make fifty quarts of soup#as a side note#i love jiang cheng the most but i will never forgive him for that stunt with fairy#and honestly he'll never forgive himself for it either#by the time he works himself up to grovel about it though wei wuxian probably won't even remember#the untamed#the untamed meta#wei wuxian#wei ying#lan wangji#lan zhan#jiang cheng#jiang wanyin#wangxian#chengxian#parallels kind of#what was this post even about#i don't remember now#episode 35
82 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyy so I was wondering if you could do a nsfw alphabet for Brahms? 🥺
Hey I’m sorry it took me a hot sec to post anything in a while but hopefully you enjoy! I love doing these alphabets cause it helps me get a better feel for the character.
Brahms N/S/F/W Alphabet
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Brahms is a clingy boy after sex, typically wrapping himself around your body and refusing to let go. You’re his teddy bear and he’ll throw a tantrum if you refuse to snuggle with him afterward. He loves leaving kisses along your neck and jaw and humming so deeply it reminds you of a purring cat.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His hands are probably his favorite part of his. Especially after meeting you and reveling in how you react to his touch. No matter your size he will always see you as smaller and more fragile than him and seeing his big hands gripping your wrists or holding onto your waist always get him going.
While he would love every part of his partner unconditionally, his favorite part would be their eyes. There’s so much emotion he can see from them, he can tell when you’re happy, worried, upset, or needy. He can’t get enough of the way you look at him with such softness when he is at his most gentle and desire when he is teasing you. And sometimes, he gets a thrill out of the look of fear in your eyes when he is being more dominant and direct with you, liking to see just how much of an effect he has on you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Brahms will certainly make a mess out of you if you’ll allow him. He really can’t decide where he likes to come the best. A few of his favorite places would be your chest, along your stomach and thighs, and inside of you. He gets a rush seeing you covered in his come like he’s laid claim to you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Brahms has loads of dirty secrets, he's lived in the walls for most of his life so everything of his is a dirty secret. But one of the dirtiest that he has is that before he revealed himself to you, he would steal your underwear and watch you through the walls. You wouldn't have to be doing anything explicitly erotic, but anytime his urges got the better of him and when he felt he might lose himself and lunge out of the walls to grab you, he will take your underwear and jerk it off along his cock, the fabric adding much-needed friction for him to satiate his urges and come before he does anything too rash. As he usually makes a mess of your underwear, you find you're missing a lot of pairs frequently, both clean ones and ones from the hamper. Because you know Brahms is a dirty boy and would definitely get off on inhaling your smell as well.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He is a virgin, no question. The most experience that Brahms has is what he's read in the books on his shelves. He most likely hasn't read actual erotica but the books that he's read might have some sexual scenes or descriptions of such things (albeit probably only from very older books that use way too many euphemisms and flowery language). He is also aware of reproduction and how to have sex through diagrams in stuffy anatomy and biology books. As a lot of his knowledge is in a scientific context, he will really need you to guide him the first few times. After that, it's no holds barred.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He has a hard time deciding. Brahms really enjoys missionary so he can pin you down and watch every expression on your face as he pleasures you. However, he is also partial to doggy style because sometimes he gets so worked up that he can’t help but want to take you as roughly and deeply as possible.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Brahms is always more serious during intimate moments, the most he might do is a little laugh as he teases you. He’s not one for joking during sex simply because he is still a little insecure about his abilities, though if you’re with him for long enough he might start to loosen up a bit.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Have you SEEN how hairy this man is??? Brahms has probably never used a razor in his entire life so he's a full wolfman. He also never really had opportunities to clean himself fully like in a shower (the most he probably does is a makeshift sponge bath if even that) so you're most likely going to have to get him used to proper hygiene unless you like a very stinky wall boy. He also wouldn't bother with his body hair on his own unless you offered to trim it for him. A full shave anywhere right off the bat might not be too good either, because he will feel naked and itchy for days. You will have to get used to some hair on him because even if you were offering him kisses as rewards for shaving he wouldn't let himself be completely shaved head to toe. As it is, it'll be an absolute pain trying to get Brahms to agree to you manscaping him below the belt because it is certainly a mess down there.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Brahms is always romantic during intimate moments. Or at least, what he believes is romantic. Most of the time he is simply overwhelmed by his desire for you and if he can manage it in the heat of the moment he will grunt how beautiful and lovely you are in your ear as he thrusts into you, praising and telling you that you’re all his and no one else’s. His heart is in the right place but you might need to help him understand the nuances of romance.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Absolutely. While he might have associations with it being a dirty act from being punished by his mother, he still finds he cannot help himself when he first saw you through the walls. Mostly it’s a way for him to calm himself down and take control of himself again when he feels the urge to reveal himself to you. At first it might begin when he sees you changing or showering, but it could escalate to him just jacking off to you doing simple tasks around the house.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Brahms might have a hard time putting words to describing what his kinks are because he has been so sheltered, but he has far too many to count. Essentially when he finds his perfect person to be the nanny at the Heelshire mansion, his kink will be everything about you. You yourself are what turns him on the most. He’s a huge voyeur, no surprise there. He also has a bit of a size kink because of his size compared to you. Essentially if his partner is involved, he will be down to do or try anything.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He loves dragging you in the walls and having sex with you pinned flush against the wall. While he’s thrusting into you from behind, he’ll make you look through one of his peepholes and tell you exactly what he does while he watches you through them. His bed in the walls is another favorite place, mostly because he can keep you between the wall and him and you would have to get through him if you wanted to get up. He likes having you all trapped for himself.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly, anything can turn Brahms on when it comes to you. You could show this boy a bare ankle and he would instantly nut. But if you really want to drive him crazy, wear revealing clothing. Lingerie, booty shorts, crop tops, leggings, skirts, anything that covers you while also teasing what is underneath. He won’t be able to control himself and he will either pester you all day about giving him attention or simply tackling you on the spot and giving all of his love right then and there.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Absolutely will not share you with anyone else. He refuses to even entertain that notion. On a similar note, he wouldn’t be interested in public sex, not that he leaves the Hillshire mansion anyways, but he refuses to even think about someone other than him looking at you in such a vulnerable position. You’re his and his alone.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He is usually more of a giver. Brahms always wants to make sure you’re taken care of, and as someone who is horny for praise, he gets off on getting you off. And if you tell him what a good boy he’s being? Instant nut. Though he will never turn down oral from you, though he might be a little twitchy about it at first. He’s not used to someone pleasuring him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
When he’s horny and in more of his man persona, he’s all sorts of feral and rough with you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take his time, he’s just usually so pent up and has such a high sex drive that he can’t help himself. It’s possible for him to go slower but it will take a lot of urging him and a bit more willpower on his end, as well as the promise of rewards if he does.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
All. The. TIME. Since he’s been so pent up for years upon years in the walls, any small action from you will get him needy. If you’re not careful, he’ll bend you over every surface in the house, and then when he’s done will scurry away while you’re sitting there trying to process what just happened, all the while cursing him for making you horny in the process, thus continuing the cycle.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Brahms is hardly a risk-taker in his own life and any sort of change will upset him. Even spending more time outside the walls is tough for him, but once he’s grown used to you the risky behavior he will have is having sex outside the walls or your bedroom. For someone so used to sneaking out of the walls without being spotted and getting reprimanded by his parents, it’s a thrilling experience for him to be so naughty out in the open with no one scolding him for it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
While he isn’t one to last a long time, he can go for as many rounds as he can stand. Since just about everything about you gets him in the mood, he could have just orgasmed and will start getting hard again.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Brahms doesn’t personally own any toys but if you do he won’t protest. The only thing he might not like is if you use them by yourself. He wants to be a part of the fun too, whether he’s using them on you, you on him, or both of you using them together.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He LOVES teasing. Any opportunity to see your flustered expression while you try to scold him is one he will take. Plus he loves seeing just how needy he can get you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Brahms usually isn’t loud at all especially if the sex is slower. He might make a few moans here and there. But when he’s needy for you he will make all sorts of animalistic grunts and groans. He’s less talkative except to tell you how good you’re being for him. He usually gets so carried away that he can hardly speak and mostly just moans in your ear as he ruts into you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Brahms is a curious boy, and on some occasions when he steals your underwear he’s attempted to wear it. Especially anything soft and silky you might own, it’s a different sensation on his body that he isn’t used to and the whole debaucherous act leaves him unable to contain himself. You might have to invest in buying him his own undies. But even then he would prefer to steal yours because they smell like you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He is slightly above average length but he is also endowed in the girth department. Again, lots of hair down there.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
The easiest way to explain his sex drive is that he is the kind of guy to get hard over any bare bit of skin not covered. He will settle down more the longer you're together, but he still acts like a feral animal anytime he sees you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He will be out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow. Get used to falling asleep with his arms and legs wrapped around you and his chin resting on your head. Good luck if you need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
293 notes
·
View notes
Text
AAhh I really like 45 it pushed the story along while also being just hilarious and touching and it was just so good!! 46 was just pokemon battles...
OBEY ME! LESSON 45 DETAILED SUMMARY
At breakfast the most of the brothers crowd around MC and ask them how different appliances work, Asmo apologizes for them and then immediately asks MC something as well and well Belphie calls him out on it he says he hasn't been in the human world for a really long time and things have changed. Beel says that the human world progresses so fast that it makes him dizzy and Asmo says maybe it feels like that since the devildom doesn't progress. Lucifer tells MC to get ready to leave once they're done eating (still on the white couches is2g this pisses me off so much) and when MC asks him wtf he says oh yeah forgot you nearly died while Solomon told you about getting a sorcerer's license. MC's got a meeting with Solomon and Beel & Lucifer were asked to come along. Mammon & Asmo protest cause they can't tag along. Belphie says that Beel and Lucifer were probably chosen cause they'll at least appear as mature functioning adults.
They meet up with Solomon in front of the Sorcerer's Society HQ, which according to Solomon is filled with "Pompous Uptight Bureaucrats". It provides assistance to sorcerer's living in the human world and provides them with first a provisional license and then a full license that'll allow them to practice magic as they pls more or less. Lucifer's like; that's great and all but why the fuck are we here. And Solomon tells him that he'll understand when they get inside. Lucifer says that sounds exactly like something someone who was seconds away from causing problems would say and he tells MC to brace themself.
The backgrounds for both these lessons are really good! Right so when they walk in sorcerers start ooing and awing over Beel and Lucifer - they've never seen them irl before, one even wants their autographs. Apparently Solomon's apprentice taming the 7 rulers was believed to be an urban legend?????????? I dunno imagine going from being a normal human to becoming an urban legend amongst sorcerers? Lucifer thinks Solomon brought them along just to boost MC's reputation (ohhh the poor man). Solomon reveals that he isn't on good terms with the society (is it even a surprise?) and being his apprentice would just make things harder for MC and that he established the society with his previous apprentice long ago but they had a falling out and now that apprentice runs the society (is it sad that there's a huge possibility that the falling out could be food related?). Solomon says he brought the brothers as bodyguards for his cute apprentice/charming apprentice/favourite pupil (If he keeps talking like that whoever runs this place is gonna deck MC) since back in the Celestial Realm the two of the were known as "the two greatest champions and protectors of the CR". Beel gets pissed off cause he thinks this means Solomon is putting MC in danger and Solomon says 'lol that's definitely not who I'm putting in danger' and when Lucifer picks up on that and questions Solomon on it he goes 'man look at the time we really gotta go get MC registered WOW'. The dude at the reception uses his staff to etch a magic seal that's the society's crest on to the back of MC's hand (I really feel like you should tell someone beforehand that you're gonna give them what is basically a tattoo? Also cant wait for that butcher to see this and the rest of MC's harem and come to the conclusion that they're in a cult) which consists of 3 staves and 7 stars signifying the 3 Magis who are believed to have invented magical arts and the 7 virtues (is it bad that before i even started om i knew what the 7 sins were but only had a vague knowledge about the 7 virtues? I wouldn't have been able to name them all without this lesson :/ anyway they're humility, generosity, gratitude, patience, chastity, temperance and diligence. Something i really like is that the brothers have all displayed the virtues that directly oppose their sins on a semi regular to regular basis). To get their license apprentuces must earn the seven stars via passing 7 trials with the first of the trials being set and judged by their master. (ok so I assumed each test would focus on a brother and MC'd earn the star that opposes each brother's sin and would pass the test by learning and displaying the virtue of that star. But that isn't what happened here? If anything the test was there to teach Lucifer humility? Is that how it will go? will each test somehow focus on MC helping the brothers learn and display their opposing virtue even though all of them have already displayed this virtue to some extent? I mean I guess the main point of the tests were to show that MC could control the brothers so that makes sense? but even though this test did focus on making Lucifer let go of his pride, the test was about MC learning to control Beel's power and these two lessons are very much focused on Beel so was the star they earned actually temperance? Even though the test didn't have anything to do with that virtue? Ahh i have so many questions about how the stars are earned and neither lesson really clarify it and if anyone wants to come debate about this???)
ANYway Solomon uses a spell to bind Lucifer in place, which pisses Beel off, tho when MC stays calm and just observes what happens Solomon is pleased assessing a situation before taking action is important (Ive had this HC for a while now but solomon is definitely the kinda teacher who throws you into the deep end with just a cryptic warning and watches with a smile as you try to figure out how to not die, if you do something particularly amusing while struggling he'll give you another cryptic hint, occasionally he'll yell out praise with that smile of his even if it looks like you're actively drowning and dying and failing). They start to get an audience while Lucifer threatens Solomon and shifts into his demon form and goes also im still fucking pissed off about that lunch so/ Beel also shifts and threatens Solomon, tho lucifer tells him to stand down cause he wants to murder solomon on his own and that a mere binding spell won't hold him down, Solomon's like Jeez chill it's for MC's exam you fucknugget and Lucifer's like oh shit yeah but you know i'll actually kill you for this later and Solomon's like yeah that's cool and also imma use my powers to make you into the size of a barbie doll and lucifer's like what- MC then proceeds to lose their shit over a tiny blushing Lucifer. MC's test is to keep lucifer safe for 24 hours which would be fine if they you know didn't live with the other 5. which is actually what lucifer says when Beel says it'll be easy if they just stay at home cause home according to lucifer also contains his '5 greatest enemies'. MC's job is to protect Lucifer from them without using any commands on anyone other than beel, and the goal is for them to be able to fully command beel like they did with Asmo in S1 against Henry 1.0. Beel is not allowed to act on his own to protect lucifer and can only act on MC's commands. Beel agrees, Lucifer swears and Solomon asks MC about their confidence levels. MC can promise one of the three of them that they won't mess up. Solomon says he'll stay in the house with them so that he can judge and Lucifer's more or less like; you're having fun aren't you and solomon says Duh.
So they end up at the café where predictably Luke & Simeon end up screaming and laughing at a blushing pissed off mini Luci, Simeon tells him they physically cannot laugh cause of course big scary Lucifer is now in Simeon’s words ‘Teeny-Tiny” & how he’s so cute he wants to keep him in a jar as a pet (God I love this lesson). He says Michael would love to see this and when Lucifer yells at him he completely ignores him to poke his cheek (V Relatable). Luke also wants to join in on the fun but Lucifer is a little bitch to him and as retaliation for scaring their son MC pokes luci on the cheek too. Beel laments about wanting to poke luci on the cheek too and when Solomon tells the others to stop teasing lucifer, luci goes, EXCUSE ME WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE. Beel notes that luci now smells human. When luke asks about the smelling thing beel says that all 3 species? races? Smell different. Simeon marvels at how much humiliation PrideTM is willing to take cause he’s simping for MC. Luci tells them to shut tf up cause unless they come up with a plan to deal with his hell children they’re probably going to kill him the second he steps foot inside the house. Beel tells MC to use his powers. Luci says they should be able to draw out Beel’s powers like they did Asmo’s in S1. Solomon says since he gave them a power up in S1 simply saying the incantation won’t work this time around and they must first fully understand Beel and his nature to be able to do that. MC has a flashback to the Butcher and his relationship advice and then asks Beel what he thinks they should do to be able to better understand him (while I do think ideally this is the right choice, in context with the other two choices, to me, this is the ONLY choice cause the other two come off as slightly yandere on mc’s part). Beel chooses spending time together via sleepover. But obviously Luci will have to come along and Solomon invites himself along too cause he’s still the judge. Simeon’s sad about not being able to join in and luke is TOTALLY NOT JEALOUS OKAY!?!?
Outside the house Luci, Beel and MC all make pledges like they’re invading enemy territory; Lucifer: Swear you won’t let your guard down. Beel: Swear to protect Lucifer with your life. MC, 100% seriously: I Swear. Solomon: Are yall fucking serious??? These are your fucking brothers???? You practically raised them??? Lucifer: Have you ever actually met my brothers???? Beel: You legit think they won’t give up their lives just to fuck with lucifer for a day? When Solomon asks what lucifer ever did to make them hate him so much he says he doesn’t know. And look while “locking me up in the fucking attic for a whole year”, “not acknowledging that you’re actually my father and taking some fucking responsibility” and “blaming every minor inconvenience in your life on my very existence” are all very valid reasons none of them actually hate him right, cause I mean using every chance you get to fuck with your siblings is just part of being a sibling? Which is what Beel and MC both tell Lucifer. Lucifer doesn’t believe them and actually seems sad about it. Solomon said “while I do find the complicated interpersonal dynamics of your family fascinating” my ass is freezing out here. …Do you think they’re like solomon’s favourite show??? I mean Solomon’s old as shit and probably doesn’t remember what it’s like to have a family, and before MC, Simeon and the student exchange he didn’t really have anybody so do you think he just watches the brothers + MC like ‘damn, this shit is wild’????????????????? The instant they enter the house, someone casts a spell and they’re pulled into a portal. The fuck did you say about everyone loving Lucifer, says Solomon while making direct eye contact with Beel. They fall through endless darkness and MC tells them to chill cause it only feels like they’re falling. They end up in a weird ballroom/royal courtroom kinda place, which Solomon marvels. Beel & MC recognize the place as a location from one of levi’s games and meet Levi in his TSL clothes who welcomes MC as the ‘hero’.
Beel, Luci & Sol kinda just wordlessly stare at levi with tired expressions and MC being the bro they are plays along with levi by asking if he is who they think he is. He introduces himself as The Lord of Shadows, the ruler of all 7 lands. Lucifer: WTF. Beel says they don’t have time for games and Levi gets upset that they’re making him look pathetic. Levi gives MC their mission – to save the world by defeating the demon lord satan. Lucifer tells Solomon to get the fuck out of there. Solomon says he can’t considering he has no idea where the fuck they are in the first place. Beel politely asks ‘his majesty’ the way to pantry and Levi yells at them to take it seriously. Beel says well ok and explains the whole test thing to levi as a way to explain why they can’t play. Levi says satan already knows this. After that there’s a flash and black smoke starts curling up around the room and satan turns up in his demon form. And LOOK I hate satan’s demon form outfit but it actually looks really good in this context??? The feather boa and ribbon bow thing really works with the curling black smoke, evil demon lord look. It probably helps that you can’t see his bottom half. Anyway Satan turns out to just be a magical projection and he says, well you’ll have to come to me cause I kidnapped your boyfriend, while Diavolo calls out to Lucifer and MC from off screen. Diavolo had run away from the devildom to surprise the brothers. While Lucifer scolds Diavolo and while Diavolo apologizes, Satan tells they must all come to him along with the “obnoxious talking doll”. Lucifer: the fuck did you just say. Ok this part is really cute; Satan: “I’ll be seeing you MC.” Diavolo, still off screen: Can’t wait to see you MC! Luicfer has a migraine. When Beel tries to say they should head off, Levi tells them they forgot something in RPGs. MC, still dutifully in character, asks the lord of shadows to give them aid. Levi gives them 100 grimm and just anekfnsndfjn the fuck can they do with just 100 grimm. Which is what both Beel and Luci say. Solomon says, well maybe they’re just fucking poor around here so everything here is cheap. Levi gives them a talisman to protect themselves with, Lucifer says cool, but once this is over I’m gonna beat your ass :) Levi says he just bought a new game that lets you create your own story and he just wanted to play it with them :(
So they end up in a cute lil’ game village & beel wants to go to a tavern but lucifer says they need to buy equipment first. If MC asks a NPC they just repeat the same line about how great life is under levi’s rule over and over again, if they search in the grass they find some medicinal herbs but beel immediately eats them, if they break a barrel Solomon starts breaking open barrels too and they get yelled at by lucifer. They end up in No. 2’s armoury. Lucifer’s fed up with life. Solomon says the gear looks like shit and Beel says it makes sense since this is only the first town. When Beel tries to ask 2 for food he repeats his introductory dialogue over and over again. With the money they have they’re able to buy gear for Solomon and MC and the only thing that fits Lucifer is the fairy outfit,,,, I’m NOT fucking wearing that says lucifer off screen and God I love this lesson. Solomon and MC are both little shits and can you just imagine them trying to convince lucifer to wear it just to test it out? Fucking amazing. MC tries to haggle/talk with 2 so they could get armour for beel but he says buddy I’m running a business here BUT there’s a monster in the casino that cheats ppl of their mone– Lucifer & Beel simultaneously: Oh, Mammon. So basically, if they can get 2’s money back he’ll offer them a huge discount on the lord of flies armour. They decide to find an inn for the night before they face Mammon.
Lucifer finds it hard to eat food. Solomon: Cause you’re tiny ^.^ Beel: Wonder whose fault that is :I MC can either offer to cut it for him (He thanks MC and tells them to feed him too. Entitled Fuck. Solomon & Beel also want to be fed but Lucifer tells them to fuck off) or tell him to just open wide and take a bite (Lucifer says if he gets too close to the food Beel would probably accidentally eat him). Beel says the food is a lot like devildom food and MC asks him if he likes devildom food or human food, Beel says all food is good. Since they don’t have much money MC & beel and Solomon & Lucifer end up sharing beds with Lucifer telling Solomon to use a spell to keep himself still during the night to avoid accidentally killing lucifer in his sleep. There isn’t a spell for that. At night, Beel asks lucifer if he thinks Satan still hates him and gets “…” in response. Assuming Lucifer is asleep he asks MC what they think. MC says they think Satan just can’t admit that he likes Lucifer. Beel says if that’s what they think then it’s okay cause he just wants Satan to love lucifer like the rest of them do. MC asks Beel if he’s worried about lucifer (Beel says Lucifer wouldn’t want him to worry but… and that he wants to be there when lucifer needs help) or says that Beel really loves Lucifer (Beel happily agrees that he does). Beel then tells MC about how he and Lucifer first met: So back when Beel was an angel, according to him the only thing good about him was that he was strong so he decided to become a soldier except he couldn’t control his strength and always ended up breaking things which led to Raphael always saying something sarcastic to him. The whole thing was depressing for him until one day lucifer came over, sat beside him and talked with him. Lucifer was always really busy and spent most of his days deep inside the palace (places where Beel has never even been to before). He told beel that a soldier was not about attacking but instead about protecting, that protecting was what was most important. He’d told beel that he was special cause he had the power to protect everyone and keep them safe (this shit is the sweetest and it has me sobbing but also that must have hit like a bullet when Lilith died…). Lucifer had told Beel if he learnt to control his powers then Lucifer would recommend him as a Cherubim, gatekeeper. Lucifer had given Beel confidence and his post as a gatekeeper. Which is why Beel wants to protect him, cause he loves and respects Lucifer. He says all his brothers love Lucifer cause if they didn’t they never would have considered leaving the celestial realm. He says that even though Satan’s situation is different he isn’t the same as he was before MC came around and that Beel likes the new satan better. And that he actually likes all his brothers more since MC came around, which is why he likes MC so much too. MC gets to either kiss, hug or thank him. Beel says his powers are there so that he can protect both Lucifer and MC. And FUCK I love this backstory so much????? And I desperately need all the other backstories?
#obey me spoilers#my posts#my theories#obey me#obey me shall we date#swd obey me#shall we date? obey me!#obey me!
13 notes
·
View notes