#am i happy with it? absolutely not. do i care? no because at least i finished ONE of my WIPs
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34to42 · 3 days ago
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Okay. So.
It’s no secret that I’ve been eagerly anticipating season 2 of The Night Agent so I made the very adult decision to take a vacation day from work and binge watch the whole thing in one day. And I have some thoughts.
Obviously spoilers lay ahead so please be aware of that before you continue reading if that’s something you care about. There might also be some swearing.
It’s not often we see a Netflix show get to season 2 and more importantly, have a season 2 that either lives up to or exceeds season 1 but I think The Night Agent is one of them. Season 2 is SUCH an experience, one that I was desperately worried about before it aired, and one that I am so happy I got to participate in now that it’s done. I was worried that the show would forget the events of season 1, that Rose would play a less integral role, that the show’s bigger and better storylines would be overdone, that they would play America as the hero when dealing with plot lines regarding international relations - none of those fears came true.
Though the showrunners were in uncharted territory having no other Matthew Quirk novels to adapt, they did a fantastic job in creating a new situation that felt similarly dire and equally as convoluted as the events of season 1. And the events of the previous season are directly referenced, and Rose continued to be integral, and the bigger and better storylines were handled well, in my opinion at least.
The overarching result of the events of season 2 however, has to be… tragedy. So many different characters have their lives upended, affected, or changed and it’s all just tragic. The character of Noor, an outstanding addition to the show, risking everything to get her family into a better situation only to lose her brother, traumatize her mother, and receive a cheque from a smiling bureaucrat for her efforts. Warren’s son Ethan, having to go through the betrayal of a friend (David), meeting his estranged father, getting so much conflicting information about his dad, only to lose him and be traumatized forever. Rose, desperately wanting a normal life but unable to fully process her grief and trauma because the only person she fully trusts left her and isn’t coming back. Even Alice’s family and the way they had to deal with their broken hearts when she took the Night Action job and stopped keeping in contact with them.
And finally… Peter.
Peter, who is a good man and wants to do the right thing but keeps getting into situations where the right choice has consequences. Who desperately wanted to clear his father’s name only to learn that it was all true and then have to make the same choices to save the one person he loves. The soul crushing tragedy of the scene with Peter and the broker in the rail car as he taunts Peter with the knowledge that by making the choices he did, he will become his father and follow in his footsteps. The absolute fucking agony on Peter’s face.
And then the tragedy of Peter telling Rose to forget him, because he knows that he cannot keep her safe and she will be used against him even though she means “everything” to him. 😭😭😭😭
My poor shipper heart.
Although I, and I suspect a lot of people, would have loved to see a happier ending for Peter and Rose, I will say that this one felt true to the story they were trying to tell. I can think of other ways this could have gone to get them that ending which I will definitely be exploring in fanfic but I can see why this choice was made. That scene in the hotel broke my fucking heart. Again, the absolute agony on Peter’s face.
So… yeah. Just, tragedy all around with this season.
I do want to mention a few things that I really appreciated about the new episodes. First, that Rose continued to not be a damsel in distress but rather continuously came to Peter’s aid and helped him out, much as she did in the first season. Second, the character of Javad was INCREDIBLY acted by Keon Alexander and made for an excellent villain, even if not the ultimate one. Holy shit, watching the shifts from romantic interest to quiet, seething menace on his face and in his demeanour throughout the show were so compelling. Third, all the scenes between characters at the Iranian mission. I was really worried this storyline would feel rushed but instead we got so many sweet moments between characters such as Haleh and Noor and an insight into their relationships.
Some specific moments I loved:
- Noor wearing her friend’s headscarf to the event at the mission
- Haleh warning Noor that Javad knew she was at the UN even though it could have cost her her job
- The ambassador’s handling of how to get Javad out of the mission, such a stroke of brilliance
- Rose’s conversation with Catherine where she told her off for talking about her aunt and uncle because she didn’t know them
- Peter holding doors open for Rose even when they were trying to get away from gunmen
- Peter immediately crawling into bed with Rose when she was having a nightmare
- Basically ever scene with Peter and Rose
- the fight scenes, they felt incredibly realistic and used a lot of elements from around the scene
- Peter and Rose’s silent communication regarding shooting Markus, it was so awesome to see them in sync like that
- Rose’s speech to Tomăs regarding the chemical weapons, she was able to get through to him even without any type of training because she is awesome
- Peter’s immediate confidence in Rose when Catherine asked “who knew she could do that?” Fuck, that was an awesome moment
- Peter and Noor’s conversation on the steps of the UN where she understood why he did what he did and accepted his apology by holding out her hand. The number of times Peter did and tried to apologize to Noor for her brother because he wants to do the right thing
Despite how much I loved the new season, I do have a few lingering questions and complaints that I also wanted to write out in case anyone else is struggling with them:
- How did the broker know to contact Rose at the beginning of the season if Peter’s name and involvement in Camp David were scrubbed?
- that President Travers wasn’t in more episodes. I really, really appreciated the way she stood up for Peter in front of Catherine at the beginning and wish there could have been some follow through later on in the season
- it feels like Rose and the doctor could have maybe thought of knockout gas a little earlier? I understand why the show did what they did for the plot but it didn’t ring quite true that they would both make so many cannisters of KX without trying something to get out of there
- Soloman’s speech to Peter as he was taking him to meet the broker regarding the one agent of theirs Peter killed in Bangkok. How they all attended his funeral and he had 40-some people who loved him. Dude, YOU killed Peter’s partner!! That whole speech just felt off.
- the character of Catherine. Things improved towards the end of the season but I really didn’t like the character at the beginning and especially didn’t like the way she spoke about Peter. It isn’t his fault that they sent him in without a lot of training and it was her job to make sure he was ready
- Peter’s tattoos being gone. I understand why it makes sense that a spy cannot have very identifiable tattoos but come on. I think we can all agree that Gabe’s tattoos are incredibly hot and we should be able to see them
So, those are my thoughts. I’m sure I’ll have more once the dust settles from watching all the episodes in one day but for now, I hope you enjoy the new season as much as I did.
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blu-writes · 2 days ago
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By Primus’s Will Pt.3
A/N: I’m sorry for the long wait between chapters! I’m currently moving and have been swamped with completing art commissions to help fund said move. ^^
TW: talk of wounds, blood, talk of death
"Thank you human." You looked up at him, still nervous over the fact that an alien robot sat in your garage.
"Y/N. You can call me Y/N" He nodded and closed his eyes, continuing to let you try and work on his side.
You wiped some of the sweat from your forehead and put the dirty rag over your shoulder. You had gotten his bleeding to stop temporarily, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. Especially if he woke up and tried to leave.
Turning and looking at out the door to the shed you saw the trail of blue “blood” beginning to dry and stain the floors of the shed. You filled a bucket with water from a tap in the back of the shed and tossed the water onto the concrete floor. You grabbed a brush broom and began to scrub at the spots.
You heard sirens racing near your house and looked back towards the road. An ambulance came racing towards your shed, nearly running you over before transforming into another tall robot.
“Where is Optimus Human!? He needs my attention!” You pointed into the shed, where he had to lean down to see into the building’s doorway and he dashed inside kneeling to look at his friend.
“I’m guessing you’re who he referred to as ‘Ratchet’? I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” He stayed silent, studying Optimus’s wounds and your handy work of his bandages.
“I tried my best to bandage him up. I don’t know how your bodies work-“ He turned around quickly and stared at you “Do you always talk so much? You know nothing about us yet you seem so calm and collected. Does our presence not scare you?”
You flinched at his words, realizing he was right, but you were scared at the two gigantic beings in front of you. “Trust me, I am absolutely terrified. But your friend was hurt. And bad. I don’t know where you two came from or what you’re doing in my garage. But I don’t want you to lose a friend because of a bad fall from space.”
You turned and started to leave the garage, huffing to yourself when a voice called out. “Wait Miss/Mr. Y/N. I want to thank you, and I want to apologize for my friend, we've grown custom to not trusting everyone we come across. And our situation is not very common, so your level-headedness during this has been surprising to say the least." You paused as he spoke, still facing the door to leave, and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. I can't say I blame him." You turned and walked out of the garage, still hurt by the quick judgement from Ratchet. “Stay here as long as you need. I’m going to close these doors so nobody can see you from the outside. If you need me, open the door and honk your horn once. I’ll hear you.”
Before either of them could say anything else you closed the doors and went into your house. The hot air of the desert was thick and you were happy to get back inside and cool off in the comfort of your home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Optimus’s POV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ratchet watched every step Y/N took, careful to make sure they didn’t try to do anything hostile against either of us. Trusting somebody entirely new, and of a different race, would be hard. Not only for Ratchet and I, but for every other Cybertronian who came to Earth and tried to form any kind of alliance with the humans.
“Ratchet-“ A cough rattled through my chest, making an awful echo in the garage. I covered my mouth, drops of energon falling into my open palm. “Lay down Optimus. Your condition is only getting worse, I need to patch you up immediately.”
“If you hadn’t been so worried about talking to that human maybe you would be in better sha-“ I looked up at him as he caught himself, before groaning as Ratchet pulled out a large chunk of what looked like a rock, it’s tip covered in bright blue fluid.
“She/He patched you up well enough to keep you stable.. Impressive..” Ratchet dropped the rock and began working, his large hands working efficiently and quickly, stopping the bleeding much better than it had been before. “If it weren’t for Y/N, who knows what condition I would’ve been in by the time you arrived.”
He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on my side as I sat back up, making sure the wound stayed closed. “Y/N seems wonderful Optimus, They do, but we can’t go trusting a random Human just because they helped us. We’ve never had good luck with humans, all they want is to destroy us and use us for parts.”
Wrong. Bumblebee had a wonderful Human friend, he was the first scout sent here, instructed to stay hidden amongst the humans. Until a decepticon scout had managed to track him down. “How is Bumblebee? Have you managed to fix his speech yet?”
Ratchet turned away, sighing. “No, his voice is..irreparable. I’m still baffled he even survived that ambush.” If only I had been here to protect him. “And what of his human?” He looked back at me this time, shaking his head.
“Unfortunately she didn’t make it. Bee is lost without her, they were partners for 3 years. And he blames himself for her death.” I couldn’t help the frown that spread across my face. “I could’ve saved them both.”
“Optimus-“
“I could’ve saved them, Ratchet. It’s my fault Bee is injured, and it’s my fault that his friend passed away.” The door to the garage slid open, and Y/N stood there, refusing to make eye contact with Ratchet.
“I want to know who you are, and what you all are fighting for.” They turned to look at Ratchet, scowling at him. “I can help more than you think. And you can use this garage for whatever you may need.”
Tag List: @jaguarthecat
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pollux-starsz · 21 hours ago
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introduced my mama to @wyervan's slasher au, guess what
Shes insane for it just as i am (we're so swag) and EEEESSSHHH she is crushing on sun!!! Adores your art sososo much, said she eat it if it were cookies!!
Check the au out!!💗💓 stuff under the cut :3
Was doing a lot of whiteboarding lately! A ton of Kalamela stuff and whatnot, i love her sosos much.
Plus a fun art I did with @su-gu3 with their Slasher OC, Kilonova! I drew the two hanging out together and we're friends so we obviously had to make them be besties😆 they're hanging out while Kilonova crushes over Sun :3c
Yes I did have a vision of the slashy boys fighting over who gets the first dance, more on that below the art😋
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Before the dance stuff, the last art piece is actually a much more like- i guess lore like piece hdodndod
The masks that Sun and Moon use plus the blood represents the killings. The heart represents Ethan, because she deep down adores that child.
(Even if she struggles to show it sometimes)
I have a feeewww other versions but they're not finished yet💔😅
Okay dance time! So Crystal Cove holds this little event every few months to raise money for charity ( the owners being a cute old couple aaugghhhh <3)
And Kalamela and basically all the other staff normally work that night to avoid any issues and also to raise support as well. She often doesn't dress up since she doesn't feel like it, that and also theres a few customers who are creeps- im actually writing about that and purposely making her beat their asses- and tries to just avoid the overall commotion and craziness! But the boys wont take no for an answer because she always spoils them so why not give her a night to have some fun eh?
More rambles below :3c
- I was thinking about this a lot but I think at some point she'd have to ask if Sun and Moon could let Ethan stay with them so he won't be witnessing a bunch of bullshit from his father, who sometimes comes over to her place just to start problems. I like to imagine she'll call them at least 30 minutes before he arrives and drives him over to their place to stay for a few hours until things calm down because she knows they'll take care of him!
- Kalamela isn't the type for romance movies, unless it's the Titanic, but I dont even know if that would be out in the very specific year the au takes place in considering it was released in 1997!! Either way😙 She often prefers horror movies and I think she'd really enjoy watching them with Sun, maybe its just so she has an excuse to cuddle up against him or just the thrill of watching some action! Who knowssss~
- She often lets Moon take Mango home for the night, he loves that parrot so much. Which usually gets an "Again?" from Sun because he always watches her whenever he gets the smallest chance.
- She definitely goes absolutely CRAZY on presents for holidays like Valentine's or Christmas for these two. I have a feeling she'd notice that they clearly didn't have the best childhood or ways growing up, and being in a similar situation because her family is extremely religious and she never had any freedom until she moved away, she often tries to make them happy and gets them as many gifts as possible. She spent all her money on them at on point and her only explanation was "I care for you guys a bit too much."
- cough wyervan ever since you mentioned that throwing a rock situation to get it through their heads that Kalamela loves them more than friends I can't help but imagine that she'd ask her friends about how to talk to them and her two friends, (Sprite and Eclipse, both guys, married gay men. They are extremely supportive. Would be great to have a beer with btw.) offer to help her, and eclipse throws a rock at both of them with a note attached to it while she just stands there in absolute shock that he actually aimed for their head. Oh and Sprite had to help Moon hold Sun back from beating his ass. Good times.
- I feel like at some point she would accidentally come across them killing someone and it results in this huge "oh shiiiitttt" moment from Sun and Moon as they drag her away into a more secluded area and then beg her not to tell anyone. (Even though her and Moon already talk about the killings, he still freaked) She doesn't rat them out because she is NOT getting slashed today, but often finds herself contemplating whether she should move and cut contact with them, despite the fact she loves them oh-so dearly!
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yaoiconnoisseur · 2 years ago
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i did some fucking around with a random limited palette and found out
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jlfs-ol · 1 year ago
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Baxter Ward in other relationships: *quick flings/hook-ups/nothing serious bye*
Baxter Ward with the MC in Step 3: *will not do anything beyond a hand squeeze or hugs/arms around them/on their shoulder unless the MC either seems to want it or instigates it*
The irony that when he actually cares and has feelings, his initial immediate reaction is to hold back because he knows what's coming and that it'll make it hurt more. The silliness of Mr. Direct and Forwardness when he actually cares about the other person is a lot.
I mean, he even gets surprised when the MC missed him while he was gone before Drinks happens and still thinks he doesn't bring value just for who he is. >_>
#Mr. Baxter Ward being all oh no feelings#oh god I'm falling harder#oh no I may hurt them but I want to be with them and well this crush was in the past so I'm sure it's fine#you big dummy you absolute buffoon I adore you#anyway thanks for the fairytale angst adventure sir#I'm going to fill these tags so much because I swear to god if you go into the tag again I am shy and nervous and anxious!!#let me organize in peace!!!#in for a penny in for a pound as he falls harder and doesn't seem to understand why the mc could also be doing so#you are so silly#I made this blog to yell into the abyss and yet somehow still keep talking about Baxter anyway#I think if I could've asked for anything more with Step 4#it would be more smaller moments of them together once everything is okay#Just more of Baxter finally no longer holding back and knowing it's okay to express his feelings when he truly cares#anyway this ridiculous rewrite has over 300K words and isn't done yet... 850+ pages and I'm still going#There's at least a few things I want to flesh out more and 3-5 other completely extra post step 4 things I want to write#Though one I really need to wait for more of OL2#of course I'm still hoping for a crossover thing#Other people: wedding/NSFW DLC#me: I want the DLC where Baxter re-meets his childhood friends with his Sunset Bird Friends (and girlfriend/boyfriend/partner if applicable#and they make up and all go to the diner and everyone is happy and become friends#and maybe we get some old stuff from his childhood home because he probably hasn't been there since college#and hopefully his parents aren't there because there are multiple people who will throw hands#I just want that closure on his behalf#maybe the closure is more on my behalf because I just think he needs all the hugs and his whole thing about not wanting to be important#YOU ARE IMPORTANT!! The wedding DLC broke me so bad and not even for the reason it was supposed to#and then Baxter's DLC just made it hurt all the more and like#as much as I was pissed at him I just want to hug him and see him happy#OLBA#OL#Baxter Ward
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daxite · 5 months ago
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yeah i think i've fully come to terms with the fact that i'm 100% somewhere on the ace spectrum lol
#dax rambles#i'm still absolutely bi but i'm just so fucking indifferent towards sex and relationship shit 90% of the time#i have attraction towards whatever gender but i don't even really consider it or think about it -- granted there is stuff i'm attracted to#i do like many various masculine & feminine features etc -- but ultimately it's just like i'm attracted to who i'm attracted to lol#but i really don't give much of a shit about sex itself really outside of when i'm in gooner mode and even then i only really care about#my weird fetishes/kinks LMAO#and relationship-wise it's the same though yeah i still want a relationship and have a possible crush on someone -- though that could be a#rebound thing since i went through a pretty rough breakup earlier this year + there's some other stuff so i doubt i'll act on it -- but#when it comes to relationships in general like in media and shit i really do not care honestly aside from a small handful of exceptions lol#like i still see so many people talking about shipping constantly here and i'm realising how truly little i give a shit about any#of that kind of stuff LMAO like more power to you but yeah it's never been something i'm that interested in at all aside from a small#handful of ships i like but honestly that's more of a lesser point#i just have zero interest in romance outside of what my own relationships would be i guess is the best way to put it#and i know i could never ever ever be in a relationship with someone who i haven't at least known as a friend for a good few years prior#like no fucking way lmao i need that established level of trust and bond + chemistry but i've literally never developed a crush on someone#outside of friends anyway so lmao and by crush i do mean someone who i would want to try a relationship with not just#“i'm attracted to this person” when it comes to attraction it's whatever and even with that it's very much a “damn they're hot would” and#that's about it lol it's not really super often either which is another main reason why i'm pretty confident i'm asexual to a degree#i think it was something i was in denial about for a while because i'm very happy with & enjoy being bisexual but either way i am still bi#it's just that the way i'm attracted to people & have little interest in sex itself is additionally some type of asexual experience lol#i'll probably delete this later unless i forgor i don't really give a shit though lmao
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moonlitwitchdaisy · 1 month ago
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No One Should Be Alone On Christmas
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❅ summary: Ever since moving to Tokyo for work a month ago, you’d been drowning in loneliness. You hadn’t fully adjusted to the people or the city yet, and worse, you were about to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning all alone. At least, that’s what you thought. In an attempt to forget your loneliness, you went to a bar, where you met the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Other than the fact that he, too, was spending Christmas alone and that he was devastatingly attractive, you knew absolutely nothing about him. If Christmas miracles were real, maybe you could spend this night—and the morning—in Nanami Kento’s arms.
❅ pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader
❅ word count: 6.1k
❅ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 modern au!, reader and nanami are strangers, one-night stand (?), nanami in a turtleneck sweater because why not??, use of alcohol, christmas market date, big mac and cinnamon rolls (yeah i was hungry while writing), use of pet names, mentioning of loneliness, kissing, neck kissing, nipple play, fingering, slow sex that turns rough, mating press, protected sex, mentioning unprotected sex, dominant nanami, also thoughtful nanami (yey)
❅ a little note: hello everyone with my new christmas-themed story! i was supposed to post it last sunday, but since i just got back from a trip and was very tired, i could only post it today. i think it’s a sweet yet spicy one-shot. enjoy!
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“And that was the ridiculous mugging incident I experienced during my first week in Tokyo,” you chuckled to yourself, the effects of alcohol making everything seem funnier. You finished the last sip of beer left in your glass in one go.
You were drunk. Seriously drunk.
Maybe getting some McDonald’s would help. At least it might clear your head, because right now, loneliness and unhappiness were clouding your ability to make rational decisions.
Spending Christmas Eve alone at a bar, drinking beer, and recounting your Tokyo adventures to a bartender who clearly didn’t care wasn’t part of your plans. Christmas had always been a warm and happy time you spent with your loved ones. But now, all you could feel was dizziness and a coldness you couldn’t explain.
You glanced at the time on your phone lying next to the empty beer glass. It was 8 PM. If you were lucky, maybe you’d find an open McDonald’s.
That is, if you could even manage to get up in your current state.
“Hey, uhmm… is there a McDonald’s nearby?” you slurred, somehow managing to form a coherent sentence as you directed your question to the bartender, who had been your reluctant companion for the past hour.
The bartender handed the cocktail glass he’d prepared to a server before turning to you with little enthusiasm. “I doubt it.”
“That’s ridiculous! McDonald’s is everywhere,” you retorted, anger bubbling up from your hunger.
The bartender seemed amused by your drunken indignation, letting out a low chuckle. “Maybe Tokyo, the city of your dreams, doesn’t have one after all.”
“Wait did you actually listen to me?” you asked, frowning at him because every sentence you told him was about how much you love and wanted to come to Tokyo.
“I got bored while making drinks and found listening to the silly stories of someone spending Christmas Eve alone kind of entertaining, I guess.”
“You’re rude,” you muttered, resting your head in your hands.
“And you’re lonely.”
“Alright, enough humiliation! Sure, I’m spending Christmas Eve alone, but you’re here making drinks and listening to a drunk woman ramble on. Ha! Got you! You’re just as lonely as I am.” Triumphant, you raised your head, only to lose your balance and tip backward. You were absolutely sure you were about to hit the floor, but instead, your back collided with something hard.
Maybe it was the backrest of the barstool?
Relieved, you exhaled deeply and turned around with a grin. “Well, if it weren’t for this backr—” Your words cut off mid-sentence because the thing that stopped your fall wasn’t the nonexistent backrest of the stool but a tall, broad figure dressed in black.
And it had blond hair. A truly stunning shade of blond.
The man in black was staring at you with a completely blank expression. It was almost as if he pitied you, but his face gave nothing away.
He shifted his gaze from your face and handed a card to the bartender. “I drank my usual,” he said.
The bartender took the card with a serious nod. “Yes, sir.” He clearly knew who this man was.
By now, you’d stopped leaning against the solid figure that had kept you from falling. Sitting upright on the stool, you realized you desperately needed to eat something and sober up. You reached into your bag to grab your card to pay.
But just as you were about to hand it to the bartender, the velvety voice of the man who had caught you made you turn your head.
“Please add the lady’s drinks to my tab,” he said.
The bartender glanced at the man and then at you, surprised, but didn’t protest as he added your drinks to the total. You stared at the man, trying to process what had just happened.
The blond-haired man was still watching you, his expression unchanging. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he pitied you again. After all, you were a woman spending Christmas Eve alone in a bar, drunk, and nearly cracking your head open on the marble floor. With all that combined, it was probably easy to see you as a pathetic, lonely soul in need of help.
The slight burning sensation in your eyes made it clear that tears were threatening to spill. And they did, quietly running down your cheeks. You didn’t even know why you felt so terrible. Spending Christmas Eve alone wasn’t that bad. You weren’t the only one doing it. Even the bartender, who you thought hadn’t been listening to you, probably was. And the other people quietly nursing their drinks in the bar were in the same boat.
And maybe even the blond-haired man who had stopped you from falling.
But right now, all you wanted was to build snowmen with your family, a tradition you’d done every Christmas Eve.
Screw it. Who wanted to be alone on Christmas?
Grabbing your coat and bag from the stool beside you, you muttered, “I’m sorry,” to the man before stumbling toward the door. The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, making you scrunch your nose. It helped clear your head a little. You were about to pull out your phone to find the nearest McDonald’s when you realized it wasn’t in your bag.
Perfect. Your dramatic exit was now a complete failure.
Quickly wiping the tears from your face, you were about to turn back toward the bar when the door opened, and the blond-haired man emerged, looking concerned. His expression softened when he saw you. You, on the other hand, were standing there with mascara likely smeared all over your face.
He approached you quickly. “Excuse me, you forgot your phone,” he said, handing it to you.
You sniffled, your cold nose stinging, and looked at him gratefully through tear-filled eyes. “Thank you so much. I—I… Oh, God…” And just like that, you broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably.
The scene was so humiliating you wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. A stranger had saved you from falling, paid your tab, brought you your phone, and now had to watch you cry like a child because of your stupid Christmas loneliness.
And here you were, crying again.
Covering your face with your hands, you tried to hide from him. All you wanted was to find that damn McDonald’s, eat until you were stuffed, and go back to your tiny but beloved one-bedroom apartment to bake cinnamon rolls.
“Forgive me for asking, but are you okay, miss? If you’re feeling unwell, I could take you home. Or, if you prefer, I can call a cab,” his soft voice said, breaking through your sobs.
You lowered your hands to look at him, sniffling a few more times. The blond man had a slight accent. His Japanese was fluent, but the words carried a subtle difference in tone. It was strangely captivating. And it wasn’t just his voice that was impressive—his face and build made him almost ridiculously perfect. You’d noticed his face briefly in the bar, but now you could fully appreciate it.
And yet, how could anyone be this nice? Of course you shouldn’t trust him immediately. For all you knew, he could be one of Tokyo’s most wanted criminals. With his black turtleneck, matching coat, and slacks, he had a slight “mob boss” vibe. The glasses softened his sharp features a bit, but actually, no—they made him look even more severe. Still, his previously stoic expression had faded. Now, there was a mix of concern and pity on his face.
You didn’t want his pity. No one wanted to be pitied. But maybe, just maybe, you could use it to feel a little better.
After taking a moment to compose yourself, you sniffled again and said, “I’m just… really hungry.”
The blond man responded to your honest statement with a smile, which only made things worse. How could he be even more handsome now?
“Alright, I know a good place. Would you like me to take you there? Don’t worry, I'll just take you there,” he said, his voice as gentle as ever.
Accepting his offer didn’t seem like a bad idea. If you ate something, you’d sober up and fill your empty stomach. The only problem was that you didn’t want to do it alone. Sure, this guy might be Tokyo’s top serial killer, but even killers didn’t commit crimes on Christmas Eve, right?
“Do you like McDonald’s?” you asked, though you doubted it. Looking at his impeccable physique, he probably only ate the healthiest foods imaginable. But you’d already made your offer.
The blond man’s smile widened, and his answer made your heart skip a beat. “I’m sure there’s one nearby.”
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
“You’re really hungry.”
Your eyes drifted to the blond-haired man as you bit into your second Big Mac. You were absolutely delighted. You’d managed to find a McDonald’s just a ten-minute walk away (take that, bartender!) and had ordered two Big Macs, two large fries, and an iced tea. The man across from you hadn’t ordered anything. No matter how much you insisted, he said he wasn’t hungry. When he tried to pay for your meal, you’d grabbed yhis wrist and said, “Unless you want me to throw up on you, put your card away.”
He was bigger than you and would probably win if it came to a fight, but you could handle paying for your own food. Sure, it was nice of him to be so polite, but this was a bit much.
“Yooh. I loveee Bog Moc,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, trying to speak as best as you could. It was definitely not respectful, but you’d already cried enough and embarrassed yourself in front of this guy.
The blond-haired man laughed at your attempt to speak. “I’m glad. I hope I’m not bothering you?” he asked casually, folding his arms across his chest.
You swallowed your bite and wiped your mouth with a napkin. “Not at all! If I felt uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have invited you.” You took a sip of your iced tea. “Though, I did wonder if you were a serial killer on the most-wanted list.”
You must’ve genuinely amused him because he threw his head back and laughed. That deep, masculine sound was more beautiful than any song you’d ever heard. This man did everything with elegance.
Unlike you.
He unfolded his arms and rested them on the table. The sleeves of his sweater pushed up slightly, giving you a brief but glorious view of his veiny forearms.
Now you were even hungrier. And this wasn’t a hunger another Big Mac could satisfy. You needed those arms. You needed to taste how strong they were. If you were lucky, maybe you’d get to feel the pleasure of his fingers inside your vagina.
In your wet and swollen vagina.
“Who knows, maybe I am. But if I were, why would you invite me to come along?”
“I thought about it and decided no killer would be boring enough to commit murder on Christmas Eve.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “You’re right. At this moment, I’d rather watch a crying woman devour hamburgers than deal with bloody, tedious business.”
You paused mid-sip of your drink, your face falling at his words.
He must’ve noticed because he immediately looked concerned. “Shit. I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh… As you can see, I’m not great at that.”
But he had made you laugh. The fact that he thought he’d upset you was actually funny. “Do you want to know why I was crying?”
“If it won’t upset you, then yes.” As he spoke, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. That small gesture was enough to make your heart race at 500 beats per second. It was a suspiciously intimate act for someone you’d only known for an hour, but you didn’t think he was trying to seduce you.
“I moved to Tokyo a month ago for a job offer. While moving to the city of your dreams is exciting, there are so many things I miss. I might have a great job, and small apartment which I love but being away from my family and friends is so hard. I know it might sound silly, but I miss them. And this is the time of year I want to be with them the most. Instead, I’m sitting here with a sexy man who still hasn’t told me whether or not he’s a serial killer.” You realized you’d said the word “sexy” only after finishing your sentence, and to cover up the embarrassment of your slip-up, you quickly stuffed a fry in your mouth.
“While I appreciate you saying I’m not bothering you, the fact that you said I’m a sexy stranger who could be a serial killer is truly…” He paused, searching for the right word. “…honorable.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not bad company. I just miss them. Right now, I’d probably be having a snowman-making contest with them and baking cinnamon rolls afterward. My dad is the best at that. He owns a little bakery in my hometown. I try to beat him every year, but I think some things just come down to talent.” As the memories flooded your mind, you shook your head and took a big sip of your drink.
“That sounds wonderful,” he said, looking like he wanted to say more. After a moment, he added, “I’m Japanese, but my maternal grandfather is Danish. I grew up and studied there. Like you, I moved to Japan last month for work.”
“Wow, we really have the same story. What company do you work for?”
“Nanami Structures.”
Your eyes widened at the name. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”
“Yes… Why?”
“The advertising agency I work for is doing their new campaign! We even have a meeting with the owner after New Year’s. Of course, I’ll just be there to take notes. Everything was already planned before I joined them.”
“Then this must be a nice coincidence.”
“Definitely! So, what do you do there?”
The blond man hesitated for a few seconds before answering. “I’m an architect.”
“Cool.”
“Thank you. Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I go through the same struggles as you. I’ve always worked away from my family and only get to see them once a year at best. Still, I make sure to call them every Christmas morning, and they always show me our dog Takuma in his latest Christmas costume.”
“That’s adorable. There’s nothing cuter than dogs in costumes! Especially if they’re dressed as elves.”
“That was last year. My guess for this year is a reindeer costume.”
“If you keep talking, my heart is going to burst from how cute this is.” The two of you laughed, and you realized how much better you felt talking to this stranger. As you finished your fries, it hit you that while you now knew the name of his dog, he still hadn’t told you his own name.
Excitedly, you asked, “Okay, you might be on a most-wanted list, but can you at least tell me your name? Don't worry! I won't tell anyone. I’m just tired of calling you the man with the nice arms and the limp.”
“You think my arms and limp are nice?” He raised a brow, giving you a questioning look.
Apparently, the alcohol was still in your system because you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
He responded with that deep, masculine laughter again. “You can call me Ken.”
“Ken… Honestly, that suits you. You look like a Ken doll.” You extended your hand to him, telling your name. He shook your hand with his large, soft one.
“For someone who draws all day, your hands and fingers are surprisingly soft.”
He glanced at his fingers. “I take good care of them. After all, I need them to keep people satisfied.”
That statement could be interpreted in three ways:
1. He’s an architect who creates designs to impress people.
2. He uses those hands to satisfy partners in bed until they’re utterly spent.
3. Both of the above.
It was probably the first, but your slightly aroused brain was leaning toward the second… or maybe the third.
“I’d be very happy if you told me the cream you use,” you stammered, barely managing to speak through your embarrassment.
“Gladly. If you’re done eating, how about we get some cinnamon rolls?”
Surprised by his suggestion, you asked, “Do you think we can find some? Most places are closed on Christmas Eve. Even this place will close in an hour.” Your original plan had been to bake them at home, but inviting him over seemed too forward. He might have a girlfriend or even a wife. Heck, maybe he even had kids. Okay, probably not a wife or girlfriend—he wouldn’t be spending time with another woman alone if he did. But the kids were still a question mark.
While he offered to find cinnamon rolls, you were mentally drafting his backstory like a TV drama. How ethical was that?
“There’s a Christmas market near where I live, and I saw some on sale earlier,” he said.
You immediately stood up, grabbing your coat and bag. “How far is it?”
Ken laughed, standing and guiding you toward the McDonald’s exit with a hand lightly resting on your back. “Not far, don’t worry.”
It seemed this Christmas Eve wasn’t turning out so bad after all.
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The cinnamon rolls were absolutely delicious. Maybe they weren’t as good as your dad’s, but they were definitely better than the ones you made.
“I don’t know why we didn’t meet earlier,” you said, taking another bite of your cinnamon roll. “If we had, I’m sure we’d be great friends. I’d probably come to this market every day, too!”
Ken laughed as he watched you. “I think we would’ve been great friends, too. And since you eat so much, I’d have made a workout program just for you.”
By the time you’d left McDonald’s and arrived here, you’d talked about so many things. The conversation continued while you searched for a place to sit and as you devoured the cinnamon rolls. Ken might have appeared to be a stern person, but after spending this time with him, you were certain he wasn’t a serial killer. Also, as you had guessed (unlike you), he was one of the healthiest eaters you’d ever met. And after your mini TED Talk on your love for food, he seemed determined to convert you to the joys of a healthy lifestyle.
“Hold it right there, big guy. I’m perfectly happy with my body.”
Ken’s eyes instinctively roamed over your body. You weren’t wearing anything particularly eye-catching—just a white sweater and jeans. But even so, his gaze lingered on you with undeniable appreciation.
You wondered if he wanted to do more than just look, and then he spoke his thoughts aloud. “You should be proud—you have a really great body.” After saying this, he seemed to lower his head, almost embarrassed.
You didn’t want him to be embarrassed. If anything, you wanted him to say more. Much more…
You placed your plastic fork back into the container of cinnamon rolls. “Even though we’re spending Christmas Eve together, I still haven’t thanked you for saving me. If you hadn’t stood behind me when you were about to pay, who knows how much I would’ve embarrassed myself.” You let out a playful groan.
“You’re welcome. But I’d also like to thank you.”
“For what? If it’s for the cinnamon rolls, you’ve already had enough—”
“Oh no, but thanks again for those. If I hadn’t stopped you, I’m pretty sure you would’ve broken my arm.”
That was true. You’d insisted on paying for the rolls yourself as a kind gesture. After all, he’d paid for your drinks. Also, when you handed over your card, seeing his veiny hands and the Rolex on his wrist had almost made you bite those hands right then and there.
“But what I want to thank you for is making me laugh while you were drunk. Also, we’re definitely going to report that mugging incident to the police.”
“Wait, you were actually listening to me?”
“I wasn’t sitting very far from the bar, and after I noticed you, I don’t think I could’ve focused on anything else.”
You stared at Ken with a hungry look in your eyes. The fact that he wanted you made you want to scream with joy. This man had truly saved you from a lonely Christmas. Tonight would end soon, but maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t wake up alone on Christmas morning either.
“You said you live nearby, right?”
“Yes, why? Are you not feeling well?”
“No instead I’m really good. I just want to feel better.”
Ken didn’t say anything for a moment, but the look in his eyes told you he understood exactly what you meant—and that he wanted the same thing.
“Are you sure? If you’re still drunk and don’t want to—”
“I really want you, Ken.”
He still didn’t respond with words; he just kept looking at you with that same hungry gaze.
“Five minutes. It’s just a five-minute walk.”
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“Mffmmp Ken, please…”
As soon as the elevator reached the floor of the luxurious apartment and he opened the door, your lips collided with Ken’s, and you practically jumped into his arms.
He kissed and sucked your lips with such hunger that it felt like he was already inside you. One hand caressed the right side of your face while the other firmly gripped your waist.
He pulled his lips away from yours. “What is it, baby? You want more?” He brushed his lips against yours again but didn’t kiss you. You could feel his hot breath on your lips. “Say it. Say it again.”
“Fuck… Yes, Ken. I want you to pin me to your bed and fuck me until I can’t feel my legs.” You managed to get the words out, panting.
“I knew the moment I saw you that you’d drive me insane.” He pulled you away from the wall where he had you pressed and kissed you again, carrying you toward his bedroom.
You closed your eyes along the way, but you knew you were going upstairs somehow. Was this apartment his? And damn, why was it so big? You were too aroused to focus on anything else. All that mattered to you was the fullness of his luscious lips.
When your back met the soft satin sheets, you opened your eyes. Ken was watching you with a deep hunger in his gaze. Slowly, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before trailing softer kisses downward.
He licked and sucked at your neck, his hands sliding under your white sweater until they reached your breasts. Without rushing, he kneaded them with a deep hunger.
He spoke against your neck, his warm breath making you shiver. “May I take this off?”
The only response you could muster was a loud moan. Ken took it as a yes, planting a final kiss on the sensitive spot of your neck before sitting up and carefully removing your sweater. All that was left was your white lace bra, but instead of taking it off immediately, he let his fingers wander over the lace, particularly around the area of your nipples.
“They’re so soft and beautiful. I could play with them all night.” He leaned down and pressed wet kisses against your bra-covered breasts.
“Oh my god, Ken! Shit—are you going to take it off or not?”
His gaze shifted from your breasts to your face, darkened with desire. He took your right nipple between his teeth over the fabric, making you moan loudly. When he released it, your eyes were still closed, and you were gripping the satin sheets so hard it was a miracle they didn’t tear.
“I like it,” he said, his gaze returning to your breasts. “Besides, the night is long. I’ll take it off when I feel like it.” Without hesitation, he moved to your left breast and gave it the same pleasure as the right.
“Sh-shit, I’ve never—never felt this way before…” Your hands left the sheets and gripped his hair, pulling him closer as if begging for more.
“If I wanted to, I could make you come just by sucking on this perfect nipple, sweetheart.” You were sure he could. If he kept torturing your nipples like this, your panties would be completely soaked.
As if he’d read your mind, his lips left your breast and returned to your neck. He immediately found your favorite spot and began sucking, while one hand moved downward to your soaked, desperate core. You hadn’t even realized when he’d removed your jeans and panties; the pleasure in your breasts had blinded you to everything else.
“So wet and…” His fingers explored your walls, gently rubbing them. “…so warm.”
“KEN… PLEASE.”
“Shhh, be a patient baby. I promise you won’t spend a single second of this Christmas Eve alone or without pleasure,” he said, his lips biting down on your neck as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed it slowly but firmly. “No one will stop my new friend from having a beautiful Christmas.” His fingers moved faster, pressing hard against your most sensitive spot.
“Ughh… Ken, fuck—fuck, I don’t want to—don’t want to be alone.”
His hot breath and quiet curses landed on your neck. “You’re not, sweetheart. I won’t let you be. You’re with me, here, in my bed.”
He drew circles over your clit with his fingers before suddenly plunging them inside you, making you cry out. You didn’t know how he sped up, but as his thick fingers pumped in and out of you, he never slowed down.
“Y-you’re so fast, Ken!” you stammered, barely able to speak from the pleasure. He pressed against your G-spot with such precision that it felt like he’d tear through it.
“Fuck… Right here, isn’t it? That sweet spot. I bet it’s been swollen like this even before we got here,” he said, slowing his pace but pressing harder and deeper against your G-spot. With each deliberate thrust of his fingers, their full length filled you completely.
“YES—YES, THAT’S EXACTLY IT… OH KEN… DON’T—UGH—DON’T STOP!” Both hands moved from the sheets to his head, pulling at his perfectly blond hair as if encouraging him to go deeper.
“Don’t you dare come yet. You’re only coming when I’m inside you for the first time,” he warned as he felt your walls begin to clench around his fingers.
Amid the wet, obscene sounds of your core, you tried to protest. “But I want to… I-I’m so close, Ken.” You pulled his hair harder.
Ken suddenly stopped moving his fingers and pulled them out of you. He sat up, licking his fingers clean. His deep, masculine groans as he savored every inch of your taste sent shivers down your spine.
“Screw the cinnamon rolls. This is my dessert.”
He climbed off the bed and removed his pants and the black turtleneck that fit him so perfectly. His boxers strained against his erection. He opened a drawer from the nightstand, pulling out a condom packet. Lowering his boxers, his cock sprang free, leaving you staring in awe.
Calling it a “cock” felt insufficient—it was massive. A rare sight that anyone would only encounter a few times in their life. And lucky you, on a Christmas night you thought you’d spend alone, you’d encountered it. In that moment, you mentally thanked Jesus. Because without him, there would be no Christmas.
Ken tore the condom packet open with his teeth and carefully rolled it onto his length. He must have noticed your wide-eyed stare because he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips for you to focus on him.
“I never have sex without protection, but if you’re uncomfortable—”
“No—no. I don’t take pills, so we can’t take any risks.”
His gorgeous smile returned to his sweaty face. Aligning himself with your entrance, he pushed just the tip inside, making you close your eyes and let out a deep moan.
“Ken…”
“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Too tight…” He gripped his length and pushed more inside. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to his body as you adjusted to his size. He hadn’t even fully entered you yet.
Ken began thrusting slowly, letting you get used to his girth. When your back hit the satin sheets again, he hooked your legs around his waist. His face found your neck, his favorite spot, as he groaned softly.
“This—this is exactly what I needed.” His cock slid in and out with increasing depth. “This isn’t just—fuck… Christmas fun, sweetheart. You’re mine now.”
Pulling away from your neck, he straightened up and started moving faster. Your legs stayed wrapped around his waist, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside you with every thrust.
“Hnngh Ken… F-faster… Please, faster…” You needed more. You wanted all of him.
Ken gripped your legs tighter. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” He suddenly pushed your legs up to your chest and leaned over, slamming his entire length into you.
“KEN—KEN… FUCK… YOU’RE GOING TO BREAK ME!”
“That’s the plan.”
This was more than just sex—it was pure obliteration. His cock was wrecking you, pounding against your G-spot with relentless force. Your legs, trembling from pleasure and strain, would have fallen limp if Ken weren’t holding them.
“Ken… I think I’m—I’m going to come…” you moaned, the waves of pleasure building in your body signaling your release.
“Yeah?” His hands tightened around your thighs. “Then take it. Take every—every inch of me. Come for me, sweetheart…”
“DAMN—I LOVE CHRISTMAS SO MUCH!” you cried out, the explosion of your orgasm rocking through you.
Ken thrust into you a few more times, then slowed his movements. The grip on your legs loosened as he let out a deep, guttural growl and came, filling the condom.
As he released your legs, they dropped to the bed, completely limp. You didn’t have the strength to lift them. Ken braced himself above you, breathing heavily. His eyes were closed, and in that moment, you decided this was the most handsome he’d ever looked.
He pulled out of you and disappeared into the bathroom. You assumed he was disposing of the condom. When he returned, his cock was still hard, and he was stroking it lightly as he walked toward you.
You stared at him in shock. Again? Hadn’t he just come?
The sweet man you’d met that evening now looked serious as he ordered, “Turn around and get on all fours. No condom this time.”
Your eyes widened at his words. You were done. You had no energy left, but you still obeyed, getting into position despite your trembling legs.
As you closed your eyes and prepared to feel his massive size inside you again, one thought crossed your mind: Jesus was probably watching.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been. Did you really want him witnessing these nasty moments?
Happy birthday, Jesus.
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You woke up the next morning with a sharp ache in your hips. You’d known this would happen. After going six rounds in five different positions with that massive cock, it was inevitable.
You tried to lift yourself up but flopped back down. Turning to the other side of the bed, you found no trace of the stranger you’d met the previous night. Pushing the hair out of your face, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath your feet.
As you wondered how you were going to walk, you noticed a glass of water and a few pills on the nightstand. Beside them, a note written in neat, elegant handwriting caught your eye.
“I thought you might need these :)”
“That bastard…” you muttered under your breath. He really knew what he was doing. Sure, he was sweet, but what he’d done to you in bed last night… You’d cried during sex for the first time in your life.
Quickly downing the pills, you got to your feet and started searching for something to wear. Picking your clothes up off the floor was out of the question—you didn’t have the strength. While exploring the room, you found a massive walk-in closet and rejoiced when you spotted an oversized T-shirt.
Everything was neatly folded and smelled just like him. If they sold his cologne, you’d have bought ten bottles without hesitation. Slipping into the plain white T-shirt you found, which reached past your thighs, you decided underwear wasn’t even necessary.
Leaving the bedroom to find Ken, you finally noticed the sheer size of the apartment. How much did architects make? Maybe he was world-renowned. You made a mental note to look him up as soon as you got home.
Descending the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit your nose. You saw him standing in front of the coffee machine, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. His back was to you, his hand holding his phone as he scrolled through something.
He looked like a Christmas morning gift you couldn’t wait to unwrap.
“Good morning…” you said shyly, standing near the entrance of the kitchen.
Ken looked up from his phone, and his eyes hungrily roamed over you. You recognized that look all too well, and God, no, not right now. You were starving, and your legs had barely carried you this far.
“Hey, good morning.” He walked over and kissed you softly before returning to the coffee machine as it finished brewing. “Coffee?” he asked, to which you eagerly replied, “Please.”
The word please had become your most-used word in the past 10 hours, and if you stayed around this man any longer, it would probably dominate the rest of your vocabulary.
Ken handed you a cup of coffee, then started making one for himself. Taking a sip, the warmth of the coffee helped you feel a bit more alive.
“Shit… I forgot to text my parents.” You set your cup down on the counter and went to find your bag. It didn’t take long; it was sitting near the entrance. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you opened your messages to reply to the “Merry Christmas” text your parents had sent you at 7 a.m., which you were now seeing three hours late.
When you returned to the kitchen, Ken was speaking on the phone in what sounded like Danish. You couldn’t understand a word, but no language had ever sounded this sexy before.
You placed your bag on the counter and waited for him to finish while you opened a text from a coworker.
Yuma [20:30]: Hey, I didn’t want to bother you on Christmas Eve, but do you remember that architecture company we’re making the ad for?
Yuma [20:30]: Of course you do. Well, the owner hasn’t been in Japan for a long time, but now he’s here.
Yuma [20:30]: *photo*
Yuma [20:31]: YUMMYYY!!!
Yuma [9:23]: Merry Christmas!! I know you spent the evening alone, but if you want company this morning, teleport to my place!
Yuma [9:50]: Since you haven’t replied, I’m assuming you drank and cried yourself to sleep last night.
You started reading the messages from the bottom up. Just as you were about to reply that your Christmas Eve hadn’t been lonely at all, the attached photo caught your attention—and you froze.
This couldn’t be real.
The man in the photo, looking dashing in a gray suit, was the same man currently standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but sweatpants, speaking on the phone.
You quickly opened Google and typed Nanami Structures. The CEO’s name caught your eye.
Kento Nanami.
Clicking on the name brought up countless photos, articles, and interviews about the man you’d spent the night with.
This was your fault. Why hadn’t you researched the company before the meeting? Then again, this deal had been arranged before you’d joined, so no one had given you the details.
Closing your phone, you set it down next to your bag and took a large sip of the coffee Kento Nanami himself had made for you. The heat burned your tongue, and you winced as your eyes drifted back to his bare back.
The handsome stranger who’d kept you company on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning was the owner of the architecture firm you’d be making an ad for—and probably the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk properly by the time of the meeting.
That day, you truly believed in the Christmas miracles.
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all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
nanami art by @matchapichai on X.
dividers by @mikeykuns @cafekitsune
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daincrediblegg · 10 months ago
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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obsessedwithceleste · 11 months ago
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Til It’s Gone
Theodore Nott x reader
Based on this cute lil request 🤗
Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)
word count: 3.2k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.
“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.
Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.
“Theo.”
“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.
Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.
The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.
“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”
“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.
Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.
“Theo?”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.
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He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.
“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.
Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.
“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”
The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.
“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.
Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.
They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.
The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.
“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.
Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.
“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”
“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.
Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.
“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.
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“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.
“It’s Theo.”
“That’s what I said.”
You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.
Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.
It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.
You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.
Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.
That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.
The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.
“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.
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The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.
Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.
“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.
Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.
“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.
“Oh fuck off you two.”
Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.
“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”
“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”
“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”
“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”
With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.
Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.
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For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.
It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.
Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.
And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.
It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.
It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.
“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.
Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.
It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.
The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.
“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.
“Theodore?”
Theo glares at the use of the name.
“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.
With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.
“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.
“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”
"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.
"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."
Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.
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As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.
It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.
But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.
Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.
“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”
A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.
“Just a special friend,” you reply.
After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.
Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.
After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.
There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.
Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.
You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.
“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.
With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.
With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.
“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.
You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.
“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.
“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.
To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.
"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.
"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."
"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."
"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.
"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.
You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.
Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"
"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.
"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"
His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.
"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.
"I think I can have that arranged."
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Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽
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hyunebunx · 2 months ago
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˖˙ ᰋ ── you, clouds and rain (and the wine on your lips)
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff, slightly suggestive
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my mindy requested something soft and domestic with a slice of spicy tension with hyun and who am i to say no? enjoyyy <33 and let me know your thoughts <3 part two right here
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When shooting your tired boyfriend a message this morning, inviting him over for lunch and a cuddle sesh by the television, the last thing you expected was a power outage. Even though it was still light outside, the sun and its bright rays were obscured by dark and angry clouds that could only mean one thing: rain.
Hyunjin was a fan of rain, loving the silence and how the whole world seemed to slow down and hurry home. He could be as silly as he wanted and nobody would judge him, too busy to remain dry to care about anything else. You, on the other hand, hated rain. It usually ruined all of your plans and kept you stuck inside, depriving you of sunlight and everything you loved. Including seeing your beloved and going on cute dates, holding hands throughout the day while exploring new and exciting places neither has seen before.
And now it ruined another one of your plans because things could never go your way, now, could they?
“I’m so sorry, Hyun.” You sigh, playing around with the food on your plate, absolutely dejected.
Hyunjin shakes his head and tries to hide the smile threatening to stretch across his features, freshly dried hair bouncing with his every move. “You’re sorry for what exactly?”
Thunder interrupts before you can even begin, souring your mood further as Hyunjin reaches for your fork, twirls it around expertly and brings it to your mouth to eat before it gets cold. You’ve worked hard on this pasta, letting it go to waste would be a shame.
“The rain.” You mumble before chewing, pouting. He waits patiently for you to finish before leaning over the table to wipe some sauce that has somehow landed on your chin.
“You can’t control the weather, baby.” He smiles, fondness spilling from his eyes as he watches you reach for your drink. Your apartment was no longer bright, engulfed in this darkness that would fool anyone into believing night was about to set at any moment. Fortunately, you managed to prepare everything before the power went out so at least your lunch date wasn’t completely ruined.
To set the mood and try to lift your spirits, Hyunjin has lit a lone candle between you on the table – a romantic till the end, you’re convinced your boyfriend would shrivel up and die if he couldn’t spoil you somehow.
“Well, I want to control it all to make you happy!” The statement is a bit childish but not far from the truth. For Hyunjin, you would do anything to see that beautiful smile of his lighten up every room. Control the weather, move mountains and even give him the moon which he embodied without even realizing. As bright as he was, Hyunjin was the moon in your eyes, illuminating every dark corner of your world with his ethereal glow that left every passerby in awe.
Breathtakingly beautiful, both from the exterior and from within. There was no other person like him in this universe.
This time, he laughs, eyes turning into two crescent moons as if to prove your previous point. “I’m the happiest as long as I’m with you, no matter the weather, time or place. I thought you knew that?”
You’re aware yet your heart still skips a beat, as it always does whenever he opens his mouth and hits you with such a line. Hyunjin wasn’t shy in the slightest when it came to you and the love that was overflowing out of him. All of it was yours, of course. He could never love another in the way he loved you for as long as he lived.
“Doesn’t matter.” You still shake your head, deciding to be stubborn. “It still ruined our plans. I was looking forward to finishing that show together and now we can’t.”
He takes a sip of his wine, the condensation on the glass proof of the warmth in the apartment. “It’s not like we can’t watch it another time, baby.”
“I guess.”
“Don’t pout.” His bigger hand settles on top of yours on the table, bringing it to his plump lips to plant a lingering kiss on the smooth skin. “I came over to see your beautiful smile and talk each other’s ears off. Don’t make me sad.”
Hyunjin makes a face, dramatizing his sadness and you finally laugh, returning to your meal with newfound vigour. He always managed to make even the gloomiest days happier, and you suspected your boyfriend might actually be an angel in disguise, sent from above to watch over you.
“So,” he starts, happiness radiating off of him at the delicious food, his hand still holding onto yours, “did you finish that new book you were telling me about the other day, yet?”
The rain was hitting your windows heavily, creating a curtain of sorts that kept you and Hyunjin separated from the outside world, protected from all evil in your little love bubble that continued to grow with every moment spent together. Excited, with your whole face lighting up, you stand abruptly and make your way over to plop yourself onto his lap without shame, just so you can snuggle while granting his wish. You were about to talk both of his ears off until he begged you to stop. And knowing Hyunjin, he might actually like that.
Time flies as you’re having fun with your other half, while he listens attentively to your every word, so drawn to you and the way your mouth moves that he can barely look away as he remembers to keep feeding you and himself until both of your plates are empty. If it were up to him, Hyunjin would glue your hands together so you’d never have to be more than a foot apart at all times. But reality is cruel, and spending all your time with your beloved was not socially acceptable – for some reason, you couldn’t make money this way. He really hated capitalism for keeping you away from him.
After a while, you both stand to wash the dishes, with him on your trail and being assigned to drying duty.
You’re laughing together as Hyunjin tells you more stories from work, something that happened the other day at the company, not leaving anything out. He was so honest and open about his feelings that nothing he said surprised you anymore.
Your back is to him as you wash the last glass when you feel strong arms pulling you to a sturdy chest, wrapping around your middle to ground the man as he leans over to hug you with all his might. You smile, genuinely, and rest your head on his shoulder just to plant multiple kisses on his cheek. He giggles, and you quickly shake the water and bubbles off your hands to turn around in his embrace and face him.
“Hi.” You smile, briefly kissing his nose. Thanks to the smaller windows, the kitchen was even darker than your dining room, creating a cosier, more intimate atmosphere one could only dream of basking in. Romantic with a pinch of tension neither could shake off - the pleasant kind.
The rain showed no sign of stopping any time soon so for the time being, you were the only two people in the world.
“Your smile is my favorite.” He’s staring deeply into your eyes, strong hands following the outline of your body downwards to rest on your hips and bring you closer, wanting to make you one. The butterflies start going crazy, flapping their colorful wings against your ribcage in a desperate attempt at being let out, longing to be touched by him just like you were.
Your arms come around his neck, and you’re nose to nose now. “You’re my favorite.”
Hyunjin breaks into a grin, one he can’t contain before closing his eyes and burying his face in the crock of your neck, hugging you close.
“You know what I really want right now?” His voice is low, the vibration against your skin sending a shiver down your spine as his hold on you tightens.
You shake your head, one of your hands moving to tangle into his hair and massage his scalp. “Tell me, so I can make it happen.”
He chuckles, thumbs drawing random shapes on your sides you could make out if concentrating on anything else other than his voice was possible. “You don’t even know what I want to ask for yet.”
“It doesn’t matter.” You respond a little too quickly, tenderly coaxing his head out of hiding just so you could see his eyes again and marvel at their beauty. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“Anything?” Hyunjin leans closer, trapping your body between him and the sink as he towers over you, few strands of his hair tickling your forehead. Your breath catches in your throat and you try shallowing, anything to get rid of this sudden lump that’s preventing the oxygen from reaching your brain.
When you nod, his eyes soften, warm hand sneaking beneath your shirt to feel skin, needing this contact to remind himself you are real and the possibility of you disappearing right before his very eyes were slim.
Then, without waiting for his next line, your hand grasps at his fluffy sweater and yanks him forward to connect your lips in a sweet kiss, one that has you both releasing a relieved breath, that acts like the lifeline you need to cling to, to survive.
His lips are soft and warm, and you can faintly taste the wine he indulged in, lingering on his skin. The hand that isn’t under your shirt finds solace at the back of your neck, gingerly deepening the kiss as thunder strikes once again. Not like you care anymore; not when he’s kissing you like he’s trying to burn to memory every nook and cranny of your physical existence.
Heads tilted, his tongue sneaks in to greet yours for the briefest moment before Hyunjin pulls away with great difficulty, chest heaving as he struggles to regain his composure.
“A blanket fort.” He almost croaks out, voice raspy and heart very much disappointed when he tears himself away from you to make some room.
You blink, confused and a little dazed, hands darting to latch themselves onto his sweatshirt so he won’t go too far. “What?”
With a laugh, he throws his head back for a moment, calming down before clarifying. “I want to build a blanket fort. Since the power isn’t back yet, I thought we could have some fun doing that.”
You’re bamboozled, almost spinning around in search of the hidden camera that will confirm this is all a prank.
“But I thought…” You trail off, arms falling to your sides as you look down in embarrassment.
Hyunjin is quick to raise your head, with a finger under your chin and another dazzling smile. “Didn’t you just say you’d do anything for me?”
What a fucking tease. How were you ever supposed to say no to that smile?
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sansaorgana · 9 months ago
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— TAMED
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You're a cat lover and Feyd-Rautha reminds you of one. You want him and you believe you can tame him.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is not exactly what the request was about but it includes Feyd having to deal with his wife's pet (I chose a cat because I'm a cat person myself). You see, I was a bit tired of my Readers being afraid and scared and I was also tired of the arranged marriage trope, which is one of my favourites, but everyone needs a break, huh? 😅
WARNINGS — harm to animals mentioned, brief mentions of Feyd's traumatic past, Reader being absolutely spoiled
WORD COUNT — 4,230
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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TAMED
“I want him,” you announced as you put your binoculars down and your lips curled into a smirk.
Your parents looked at each other, confused. You were in the stands as the guests invited to watch Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s gladiator fight. It was his birthday and his uncle made sure all the leaders of the befriended worlds were watching the display of violence and power. The display that made your parents absolutely terrified but you… You were amazed and aroused. The way young Feyd-Rautha defeated his enemies was like a brutal dance; a raw ritual. He was a feral feline and you were known to be a cat lover.
“Excuse me?” Your father asked.
“I want him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you repeated without even looking at him. Your eyes were focused only on the man in the arena who was raising his knife in a gesture of victory.
“These people are insane,” your mother hissed.
“You keep telling me it’s time for me to find a husband. I want him,” you pouted. You were determined – but not desperate.
“I can talk to Baron Harkonnen. But I am sure he would rather marry his nephew and heir to one of the Imperial Princesses,” your father informed you as your mother gasped at his words. She opposed the idea of this match completely.
“I understand,” you nodded. “Just do whatever it takes so if you fail, I will know you couldn’t possibly do more.”
He reluctantly agreed as he squeezed your cheek as if you were still a little girl. But perhaps it was a good thing that in his eyes you still were one. Because he would do anything to make you happy and fulfil your every whim.
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You spotted your father talking to Baron Harkonnen during his nephew’s birthday party but you didn’t want to just stand in the corner and wait for the men to make decisions in your name. Despite your mother’s protests, you approached Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and bowed slightly in sign of respect. He tilted his head, reminding you of a curious cat. You giggled and he squinted his eyes.
“Na-Baron, I couldn’t wait to meet you in person after seeing you fight in the arena,” you admitted.
“Lady (Y/N),” he greeted you coldly. “I wouldn’t expect such interests from a lady like you.”
“And I expected you would know more about the female nature,” you teased him and visibly angered him although he was trying to be on his best behaviour around guests. “Don’t you know that ladies love violence? The interesting ones at least,” you shrugged your arms.
“I don’t care what ladies like,” he answered. “I always get what I want either way.”
“I’m sure you do,” your eyes sparkled at a possibility of being one of the things he would want to claim for himself.
Most noble women were scared and disgusted after hearing all the stories about Feyd-Rautha and his sexual appetite, his psychotic nature. They would approach him only when needed and tried to stay away as far as possible. You were the very rare breed of women who would actually take interest in him and that intrigued him as he looked you up and down.
You gave him one last smile and walked back to your worried mother who was about to scold you for your reckless behaviour. However, for the rest of the night you kept glancing at the young na-baron and he was looking back. 
When you left the party, earlier than most people, you made sure to announce loud and clear that you were about to retire to your chambers. Then you looked deep into his eyes and walked out, followed by a servant. You dismissed her when you were in the guest wing and you continued your journey alone and as slow as possible.
You looked around but Feyd-Rautha seemed not to be following you. At least you could not see nor hear him and for a moment you thought you failed. After all, you were not a skilled seductress, you only did what your heart was telling you to do – your heart and your experience with the animals you loved the most. Cats.
And just like a cat and a skilled assassin that he was, Feyd silently emerged from the darkness when you were just about to open the doors leading to your bedroom. He was standing right behind you and his ominous presence sent a shiver down your spine.
“What are you doing, na-baron?” You swallowed thickly and shivered.
“Don’t pretend,” he whispered in his raspy voice. “You’re not the first spoiled noble lady who wants to use me for pleasure,” he told you. “What is it? Are you bored? Or engaged to an awful lord and you ant to find out what it’s like to have fun before you are forced to spend the rest of your life with him? Honestly, I don’t care,” he admitted and turned you around to face him. His touch was rough and for a second you genuinely felt scared when he trapped you between the doors and his muscular body.
The way he was staring down at you felt as if he was penetrating your soul. Only that his eyes were empty. He was gazing into you but you couldn't gaze back because he didn’t have a soul. There was an endless coldness in his pupils. And so much pain.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, as the tips of your noses brushed against each other. “I am not one of those women. The only man who can take me will be my husband,” you tried to sound convincing and stern but with a small dose of innocence. He blinked slowly, surprised by your confession.
“I thought you wanted me to follow you,” he insisted.
“No,” you lied. “I was only looking at you because I find you interesting,” you looked down. “But it’s sad what you’ve just told me, my Lord,” you added.
“Why?” Feyd was confused as he took a step back.
“I don’t know… I just think you’re so much more than a toy to use for pleasure,” you looked up again to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you should let those ladies treat you like that. I know you keep telling yourself you like it but it’s not you always getting what you want. It’s them always getting what they want until there is nothing left of you, is it not, na-baron?” You batted your eyelashes and he took another step back, like a predator realising that the prey he had caught was poisonous. “Good night, my Lord… and happy birthday,” you gave him a soft smile and disappeared behind the doors leading to your bedroom.
You couldn’t sleep all night, clutching on the bedsheets and hoping for the best outcome. In the morning your father told you that The Baron was slowly starting to like the idea of your marriage union with his nephew. Apparently, he changed his mind after a conversation with Feyd-Rautha in the early morning.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” your father warned you at the sight of your wide smile.
“Oh, papa, I always do,” you assured him, already excited about your new pet kitty.
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You stayed on Giedi Prime for a month for the courting process but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had the privilege of being able to call off the engagement at any moment. That, however, did not happen. He was growing more and more fond of you each day. You were watching him train and walking all around the fortress as he was telling you about his family’s history and culture. You were the most fascinated by the war stories and weapons, always eager to learn more. Always eager to let him steal a kiss here and there, let his hands wander but always stepping back when it would get too heated. You didn’t want him to use you and then discard you. No, he had to be patient for the real reward. Just like cats would lose interest if you let them catch the mouse too quickly.
What you noticed about him, though, was how much he avoided the intimate physical touch. He didn’t mind his opponents striking him or choking him, violating his body in any way, really. But the delicacy was making him flinch and startle to the point of aggression. He wouldn’t lash out at you but he would do that often at the servants. When it was you trying to caress him, he was clenching his jaw and shooting you a deadly glance. The more you knew about him, the more convinced you were that he was just a cat in a human form.
When a month passed, you were scared he would send you away. But instead of doing so, he sent a tailor and a bunch of servants to your room. It was time for you to make all the required fittings for your wedding dress. You sent out the invitations, too. And in the letter addressed to your parents, you mentioned all the things you wanted them to bring you to Giedi Prime.
One of them was your favourite kitty Mephisto.
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On the first day of your marriage you were unpacking the boxes from home as Feyd was sitting up in bed and watching you. It was the only day he allowed himself to skip the daily training as the activities between a husband and a wife could count as one, too. However, you required a break and wanted to finally reunite with your favourite items… and your favourite pet.
Feyd’s eyes widened at the sight of a hairless cat in the arms of the servant girl.
“What is that monstrosity?” He asked you.
“That’s Mephisto! My cat!” You took him from the girl’s arms and cuddled him. “Oh, mummy’s been missing you, baby,” you cooed to him and he started to purr.
“You can’t be serious, wife,” Feyd moved closer to inspect the creature with his eyes. Mephisto hissed and you giggled. “That is a cat?”
“You’ve never seen one?” You asked.
“I have. But not like that. It’s ugly,” Feyd scrunched his nose.
“Why ugly?” You gasped and held Mephisto’s head lovingly as if you were protecting him from your husband’s harsh words.
“Cats have fur. This one is so…”
“Bald?” You teased and he closed his mouth, realising the irony. “I have plenty of cats back home but I was aware I couldn’t bring them all here. I chose Mephisto because he is my favourite. We had tough beginnings. He didn’t trust me and he was scratching me a lot. He’s a mean-mean baby,” you leaned in to kiss the cat and Feyd winced as he found it disgusting.
“Do whatever but I don’t want this creature in my chambers,” Feyd stated.
“You’re insane! Mephisto will never leave these chambers. I don’t want him to get lost or hurt in the fortress. Also, he always sleeps with me,” you protested.
Feyd took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.
“If he scratches one thing… I will throw him out of the balcony door,” he threatened.
“If you do that, I will never speak to you again. And certainly I won’t ever share the bed with you, husband. Mephisto is like a child to me. You can’t threaten me this way. It does nothing but anger me,” you pointed out and cuddled the cat. “Aw, Mephisto, look, daddy’s angry.”
“I am not this thing’s… father,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth as he stood up to put a robe on. “After all, I think I will go train today.”
“Then go,” you shrugged your arms. “I will cuddle with Mephisto in the meantime because I haven’t seen him in a month.”
Feyd shot you an angry glance.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” You looked up as that sudden realisation hit you.
“No,” he snorted. “Of this thing? Please,” he sneered at you and left the chambers.
“We have lots of work with your new daddy, Mephisto,” you chuckled to the kitty and kissed its head. He meowed at you.
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Feyd-Rautha absolutely despised your cat. He hated that you allowed that creature to sleep in bed with you and you were always holding him in your arms. When Feyd was working on paperwork – which he hated – Mephisto would often jump on his desk and bother him. Many times when you were out of the room, Feyd had the urge to grab the creature and throw it out of the balcony or even snap its neck but when he actually extended his hands to catch the cat, the urge disappeared.
First of all, he didn’t want to hurt you. And that was a brand new feeling for him because never before had he cared about someone’s feelings like that. And second of all, the moment the cat was in his arms, Mephisto would start to purr and rub his head on Feyd’s hand or chest. Even though at first he found it disgusting, he quickly started to enjoy it. There was something comforting in the cat’s touch. It was not human and yet so pure. As time passed, he was allowing Mephisto to nap on his lap as he worked on the papers. Of course he would quickly put the cat away whenever someone was coming. He didn’t want anyone to see him so weak.
But he was jealous of the cat, too. He was jealous of the kisses and attention he was getting. The belly rubs and scratches behind the ear. The way Mephisto would curl up and sleep on your chest. Feyd craved it from you, too, but he didn’t know how to allow himself to ask for it. It would be humiliating, he thought, but also dangerous. He wanted to trust you but he was not able to. And whenever you tried to touch him gently, he was haunted by the memories he didn’t want to remember. He didn’t cuddle you at night and he didn’t allow you to do the same. While performing the marital duties, he had a feeling they would be even better if he allowed himself a little gentleness but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not even around you.
For a long time, Mephisto was the only creature that saw the soft side of your husband. When they were alone in your chambers, Feyd would let him not only nap on him but he would also carry him in his arms and pet him. Sometimes he was starting fights for the cat to scratch and bite him and for Feyd it was great fun. They created a bond that you had no idea about. You kept thinking that your husband despised Mephisto and he didn’t mind you thinking this way.
So, when you spotted a scratch on Feyd’s desk one day, you panicked. You quickly covered it with a few papers laying aside and fixed your hair right before your husband walked inside the chambers that afternoon.
“What are you doing here so early?” You asked as he squinted his eyes at you, suspiciously.
“I have to work on the papers, answer some stupid letters,” Feyd sighed and approached you. He put his hands on your waist and inspected your suspicious face. “Is everything alright, wife?” He asked.
“Yes, my dear, perfectly fine,” you faked a smile. “I have to go and work on the preparations for the event next week,” you reminded him and he nodded before leaning in to give you a possessive kiss. He would give you them a few times a day to remind you to whom you belonged. Not that you minded. After all, you had been wanting this from the moment you had seen him in the arena.
“See you later, then, wife,” Feyd sat by the desk and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted him picking up one of the papers you had used to cover the scratch with. However, he didn’t seem to notice the damage done to his desk. You sighed with relief and left the chambers, hoping that Feyd would continue to be blind when it came to that scratch.
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But when you came back to your bedroom two hours later, it was empty. You didn’t expect to see Feyd because he had his other duties to perform on that day. What worried you was the fact you couldn’t find your cat. After crawling all over the floor like a madwoman, trying to see if he was not hiding under any furniture, you just burst into tears in the middle of the carpet. You were sure that Feyd had spotted the scratch and gotten rid of your cat. After all, he had threatened to do so on the very first day of your marriage.
You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your forehead on them as you sobbed, hugging yourself. You could only blame yourself. Your parents had been warning you about the Harkonnens but you still wanted a man like Feyd-Rautha as your husband. Hoping to tame him as it would boost your spoiled ego even further to do that. And now your innocent little kitty was a victim of his fury. Was Mephisto still alive? You hoped so. But even if… how would he survive on Giedi Prime? He would not. And you would not either without him. He was your anchor.
You didn’t want to complain about your husband’s homeplanet because you chose him to be your husband yourself. And some part of you loved him – even though at the moment you weren’t so sure anymore – but it was not a friendly place. And it was not pleasant. It was cold and scary and colourless. Mephisto was reminding you of home. Of your other kittens, of your parents, of the real sunlight. He was also letting you love him like your husband would never do. And he was loving you back… unconditionally. And now he was gone. Your little baby.
You couldn’t tell for how long you had been sobbing like this. It could be hours. When Feyd came back to your chambers, he froze at the sight of you in such a position on the carpet.
“What happened, wife?” He asked as he stood above you. You didn’t answer, too angry at him. He sighed and crouched down to be on your level. “Are you hurt?” 
“Yes, I am,” you finally looked at him, furiously. He seemed to be surprised. “I am hurt by what you have done. And now you’re going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about, right? Go to hell. I hate you,” you snapped and hid your face again.
“I don’t understand. Can you explain this to me?” He asked, slowly, trying not to snap back at you.
“Mephisto! You got rid of him!” You sobbed.
“What? I have not…” He stuttered and put his arms on your shoulders to make you look up again. So you did but you were as angry as before.
“Don’t lie to me. You hated that cat and you just threw him away because he scratched your desk. Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha, you got rid of an innocent animal, you won with a sinless little baby; my baby. Are you proud of yourself? Was it a satisfying victory to hurt a little kitty?”
Feyd didn’t answer, he was staring at you as if you were crazy.
“It really feels as if you killed my baby,” you told him. “And I will never forgive you.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch him. What happened?” Feyd shook your arms.
“He’s not here. I don’t know what you’ve done to him but he’s not here,” you sniffled.
“I didn’t do anything!” He protested.
“I don’t believe you!” You moved back, you hated to feel his touch on you. You clumsily stood up and curled on the bed. “I don’t want to see you. Go away. I wanted to love you but you’re rotten to the core. You’re just evil. Unlovable,” you muttered.
You couldn’t know how hurtful your words were. But Feyd didn’t blame you because you couldn’t know his true feelings. And he focused more on Mephisto anyway. He was worried about the kitty, too. So, after a while of staring at you without a word, he put his hand on his hip and looked around, as if he would magically find the cat. He even looked under the bed as your sobs filled the room.
Without a word, Feyd left the bedroom and you hugged your own arms as the pillow under your head was getting wet from your tears. 
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It was dark already and you were half asleep when the doors opened again. It brought you back from the state of slumber but you felt too hopeless to even lift a hand to turn on the light. You recognised Feyd’s silhouette approaching you so you decided to ignore him completely. Nothing could fix this damage. Never.
You felt him sitting on the edge of the bed while turning the bedside lamp on. You squinted your eyes at the sudden brightness.
“I found him,” Feyd’s whisper made your eyes open as you sat up rapidly, utterly shocked at the sight of Mephisto in your husband’s arms.
“Wh-what?” You asked. At first, your sleepy and foggy brain refused to believe that the cat was really your Mephisto.
“He was hiding in the dungeons,” Feyd explained. “I searched through the whole fortress to find him. Hired half of the guards to help me. My uncle found it hilarious,” Feyd handed you the kitty and you sobbed out of relief. Mephisto was stinking but he was alive and healthy. You hugged him tight to your chest. “One of the servants was not cautious enough and left the doors ajar when she was cleaning here.”
“Which one?” You asked, angrily.
“It doesn’t matter. I have dealt with her already,” Feyd assured you and you nodded.
You suddenly began to feel guilty for the way you had treated your husband before. Now, when Mephisto was back in your arms and it was all thanks to Feyd…
“I didn’t expect you to care so much,” you admitted, not wanting to look up and meet his gaze. Your hands focused on caressing the cat. “That you didn’t want me to be sad.”
“You’re my wife of free choice. I don’t want my wife to be sad,” Feyd nodded. “And I wanted the cat back,” he added. You eventually looked up at him, surprised by his confession.
“You hate him,” you reminded him.
“Not at all,” Feyd smirked nervously and you didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea that he actually liked the cat. You still had a lot to learn when it came to the ways in which your husband would show his affection.
“I was cruel to you,” you whispered. “I am sorry.”
“You had your reasons to be,” he only said. “And you were not wrong about me.”
“I was,” you moved to the side gently, making a space in bed for him to lay there, too.
So he did, without a word. And one of his hands actually caressed Mephisto’s head. The cat began to purr and you realised they had already had a bond that you had just not noticed before.
Hesitantly, you dared to raise one of your hands, too. You gently brushed Feyd’s forehead and then his cheek. He didn’t startle this time and you happily began to explore every curve of his beautiful face with your fingertips.
“You’re funny,” you giggled and he looked up, curiously. “You’re the scariest Harkonnen but you’re also the prettiest,” you admitted and he blushed a little. You had never expected to see him blush. “And look at you, you allow me to touch you.”
“It feels good when you do that,” Feyd closed his eyes just like Mephisto had his own pair shut close. You swore, if your husband was an actual animal, he would start purring under your touch.
You felt proud of yourself to tame him. You had known from the moment you had seen him that you would succeed. But it was not the pride that made your heart swell. It was love. There was something about Feyd-Rautha that just made you want to treat him like a kitty, too. Scratch him behind his ear and let him sleep on your chest. Most ladies would call you insane for that but you knew him in a way they would never know him. You leaned in to place a kiss upon Mephisto’s forehead and then you did the same to Feyd-Rautha.
“I’m sorry I have doubted you,” you whispered to him. “You would never hurt me, am I right?”
He only hummed in response, moving even closer to your body. You smiled to yourself.
“I have tamed you, husband, have I not?”
But he didn’t reply. He was already asleep, snoring lightly. You had never seen his face so relaxed and carefree before. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer.
And as much as you loved Mephisto like your own little baby… You had a new favourite pet now.
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MASTERLIST
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twinkling-moonlillie · 3 months ago
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Hawks Headcanons
A/N: I am currently obsessed with Hawks (if you couldn't tell) and writing for him is fun. I made these headcanons while procrastinating on my midterm paper a few days ago-
Warnings: Some NSFW content; MDNI. Some angst too
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Starting things off with an angsty bang, Hawks has a bad habit of plucking his feathers when he is stressed out. It’s never too often and it’s never to a critical extent, but it does occur. Birds often do this as a form of coping with negative feelings, so perhaps he does this after a brutal mission. 
Like many other people, I firmly believe that Keigo has a thing for shiny or interesting looking objects. Again, it’s not to an obsessive extent, but he does have a good eye for pretty trinkets. Especially ones he thinks will look good on you. 
I don’t think Hawks is a good cook. There, I said it. This man barely has time for himself, do you really think he has time to devote to cooking? Do you really think that the Commission taught him to cook? Fuck no. He sticks to quick take out purely out of necessity. 
They say that the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and this is absolutely true with Keigo. He would love the little lunches and dinners you make for him while he is at work! He gobbles it up like a turkey. He swears that your food is the best thing he has ever had; he literally moans when the aroma hits his nostrils. 
I forget which fic I read this from (I will link if I find it), but I adore the headcanon of Hawk’s taking rut suppressant pills. I just think it makes so much sense since it aligns with his work-centric life and his lack of a wife (we aren’t talking about when you are married to him, obviously). They are probably similar to birth control pills where they stop the rut from happening 5% of the time. 
Even without his rut happening, Keigo still has a huge breeding kink. Can you blame him though? He just thinks that you'll look gorgeous with his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. 
*whispers* he also has the equipment to match
He has definitely accidentally run into a window from imagining you with a cute lil baby bump. 
He can get a little whiny and needy about wanting to devour your pussy. He will straight up beg you on his hands and knees. Please say yes to him. 
The songs Angel with a Shotgun and Mr Blue Sky fit him so well. Fight me on this. 
Also the song Hey Look Ma, I made it
I just imagine happy birb listening to Mr. Blue Sky after meeting you.
Intentional or not, his wings flap and rustle during sex. 
On the topic of his wings, I don’t think they are as sensitive as we all wish they were. It’s not like he’s gonna start moaning and whimpering when random fans touch his wings (he canonical doesn’t) HOWEVER, it does feel nice when you massage and gently comb your fingertips through them. I’m thinking that it’s similar to hair?? Or maybe his wings are ticklish?? But only in the right context?? 
You are the only person he really trusts to take care of his wings
Keigo loves holding you in his arms and taking you on night flights. The stars always seem brighter when they are reflected in your eyes (at least, Keigo thinks so…). You even have your own set of aviator goggles to wear during these dates.
One of his favorite things is when he DOESN’T have morning patrol and can snuggle you until at least 10 in the morning. Although it may be longer because his sleep debt is so huge. There is just something so satisfying and peaceful with having you close enough to hear your heartbeat. 
His biggest dream is being able to have a family with you in a quaint little house. His life, your life…they aren’t constantly in danger and he can sleep in with you, make you breakfast (it’s only a little burnt), wrap his wings around you. 
Keigo is extremely possessive of, not only you, but the life you created together. He is very sensitive towards things that threaten the small slice of normalcy he has, eliciting a sense of hypervigilance and territorialism. 
His mental state isn’t the best from the culmination of trauma he experiences, leading him to commit psychic cannibalism on himself. He represses all of these negative feelings in order to perform to the best of his ability and be the good lap dog for the Hero Commission. 
Needs therapy.
It’s established that he has some form of echolocation through his feathers. So…hear me out…just to make sure you are safe 24/7, Keigo gives you one of his smaller feathers. I’m not going to rant because I might make this into a small oneshot/drabble later
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shizucheese · 11 months ago
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Hey guys, we need to talk. Because a certain little something in TMAGP 8 is causing what is genuinely the most toxic part of the Magpod fandom at large to once again rear its ugly head. So let's talk about podcast character appearance head canons, shall we?
I'm tagging this with the Magnus Archives, TMA and Magpod tags because I am absolutely calling all of you out, but if you don't want spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 8 then stop reading right now.
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. Okay, so, Gerry exists in the TMAGP universe. He's happy (or at least acts cheerful). And some people have headcanoned this to mean that he is no longer goth, or at the very least isn't dying his hair black with bad box color. And other people have decided to get seriously agro over this. I have literally seen with my very own eyeballs someone call "un-gothing" Gerry a "hate crime" and calling the person they were talking to "gothphobic."
Let me make this absolutely clear for all of you: podcasts are a purely audio medium and unless a physical trait of theirs is explicitely stated, everyone's headcanon for how a character appears is valid. Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. But also
Rainbow Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. Pastel Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid.
Not Goth At All TMAGP Gerry is valid.
Bald Gerry who has actually gotten his brain cancer diagnosed in time and is getting treated for it is valid. Somebody's headcanon of a character that has no canonical description to them, or whose headcanon matches the few crumbs of canonical description we have but otherwise doesn't look the way you imagine them to, is not going to take away from your own headcanon of what a character looks like. If someone imagining or drawing a character looking a different way from how you imagine them looking somehow takes away from your enjoyment of the fandom or otherwise makes you feel like you need to barge in and tell them that they're Wrong and need to conform to your headcanon or else, that is a reflection on you, not them.
And this problem way predates TMAGP, let alone TMAGP 8. The only description we have of John is that he is in his early 30's and has prematurely greying hair.
If someone thinks he looks like the pastiest motherfucker to ever dwell in a basement, an extra-in-the-Adam's Family or Tim Burtan protagonist of a man, let them.
What's that? You want to tell them that John is BROWN and if they don't headcanon him looking that way they're WRONG and RACIST? Back away from the keyboard and go outside.
(Ironically, as someone who started getting grey hairs in my hair in my 20's myself, I'm pretty sure everyone's headcanon of John, with tiny little whisps of grey in his hair, is wrong, because if he was so grey that people were surprised to learn he was "a child of the 90's," he was probably full on salt-and-pepper when he was in his 20's.)
The only description we have for Martin is that he (man who canonically has the self esteem of a used doormat) describes himself as "not the smallest guy", Not-Sasha called him "roomy", Melanie is skinner than him, and Jonny said he imagined him as a "bigger guy" who would beat Alex in a physical fight. If someone decides to take this information and conclude that it means he's tall, broad and has muscle, rather than that he's overweight, fucking let them. If your first instinct to this is to run to your keyboard and call them "fatphobic" or otherwise bash them for it, I once again urge you to back away from your keyboard and go outside.
Someone headcanons Basira not wearing a headscarf? We have exactly 0 canonical physical description of her and the people who headcanon her as having one are basing that purely off of her name alone. Fucking let them. Someone headcanons Melanie and/ or Georgie as a skin color you don't agree with or a hairstyle you don't like? Fucking let them. As long as someone's headcanon of a character's description doesn't contradict the few canonical descriptions we have of a character, why do you care? Them having a different headcanon from you doesn't take away your right to imagine the characters looking however you like, anymore than it should take away their right to do the same. Someone headcanoning John as white (or Black, or Asian, or Mixed, or whatever) isn't going to make all of the fanart of John as brown with long hair suddenly disappear, nor the fanfiction describing him as such (although I do often wonder if the opposite is not true; is the fact that John looks the same in so much of the fanart I see on here really because of fandom "consensus", or is it because people are absolutely awful to anyone who draws him Different?). Someone headcanoning Martin as not fat isn't going to make the mountains of fanart of him as a fluffy little marshmallow vanish into the void (although I do remember hearing about someone getting bullied off the internet for daring to draw Martin as not fat). And someone headcanoning Gerry in TMAGP as not being goth isn't going to take away your preciouse goth TMAGP Gerry headcanon. That should be part of the fun of it, shouldn't it? Seeing what different images people have conjured in their heads of these characters we only get to experience with our ears, and celebrating the differences as well as the similarities? Why are we bullying people into conforming to one appearance of a character when no actual canonical appearance of them exists?
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bakugoushotwife · 4 months ago
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in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!
and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.
we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??
let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.
P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)
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honeytonedhottie · 5 months ago
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hyper girliness⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🎀
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this post is just my take on what girliness is to me and how i incorporate it into my life bcuz its a lifestyle for me. being super feminine and feeling happy and beautiful in that way is how i choose to live and this post is just talking about how i go about that. ofc with anything that u consume. take what resonates with you and leave the rest but i hope you'll enjoy…💬🎀
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GIRLY MINDSET ;
i think of very highly of myself, like a princess. i did lots of self concept work to get my self concept to where it is now and i can confidently say that my self concept is just as flawless as i am. because i think so highly of myself, i treat myself accordingly. something that i reinforce in my thoughts is to treat myself like my favorite doll.
what does it mean to treat yourself like your favorite doll? PAMPER yourself, treat urself sweetly and preciously and your body and mind and soul will thank you tenfold. every investment that u put into urself whether its mental or physical will give you the highest ROI then anything else can because its YOU.
IN TOUCH WITH GIRLINESS ;
im rly in touch with my girliness when im practicing self care or doing something creative (like girlblogging for example) to me, femininity is expression and creativity and energy and beauty so anything that resonates with those four words is enriching my own girliness.
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pampering and self care time every single day is a MUST
dancing or stretching
most tension for girls at least, is stored in ur hips, so whenever ur doing stretches or when u dance, i like to focus on my hips movements so that then i can release tension and let energy flow. doing so helps me to feel super in touch with my girliness and my femininity in general, so things like belly dancing and yoga.
PAMPERING ;
manis/pedis WEEKLY or every two weeks, u dont have to get them professionally done if u dont want to, but mainly focus on being well kept and well groomed and moisturized.
making sure my hair looks pretty and to my liking
being EXTRA during shower time ; using high quality and sweet smelling products, using body oils and body butters and lotions. taking bubble baths and using fancy bath milks and bubble bath.
GIRLY INCORPORATION ;
you can glamorize even the simplest of tasks by being super girly. here are some examples of incorporating girliness into mundane tasks. girliness is lots of ROMANTICIZATION
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studying -> using cute stationary (mine are predominantly pink) decorated notes, cute study playlist (i listen to subliminals) keep an adorable space to study and wear a cute outfit
GIRLY CODE ;
being sweet and gentle with everyone (including urself) is SUCH a girly move and it makes u so pleasant and doll-like. theres no need to be nasty for no reason, cuz thats not hot. so mind ur p's and q's. say thank you, articulate ur feelings and ur thoughts. also, me saying making an effort to be nice is girly code does NOT mean that if someone is coming at u some kind of way that u shouldn't stand up for urself bcuz u absolutely should, but rly emphasize grace.
GIRLY ACCESSORIES ;
bracelets
anklets
purses
head bands
mini-skirts
on an ending note the main keys to girliness from my experience is all about how u treat urself, and that'll translate to how u treat others. and this post can serve as your reminder to pamper and spoil yourself bcuz u deserve it…💬🎀
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suiana · 5 months ago
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i spent the whole day reading and watching fianl fantasy 7 and guys pls imagine yandere! creation
you're an evil scientist and because you can and you want to, you created this absolute beast of a man.
he's perfect in every single aspect. height, strength, build, even his cock is huge.
anyway the evil corporate shitheads steal your creation from you when he was still newly created because they wanted to use him as a weapon. that... worked out well for them because when they took your perfect man he was still fresh like a newborn baby and didn't know shit.
they brainwashed him into thinking his parents had died and they took him in because you know. they took him in and raised him on his parent's behalf... a sad backstory makes a good hero am i right? it'll also give him more motivation to 'kill' the enemies that 'killed' his parents.
meanwhile you didn't really care that much that they took him away. sure, you were annoyed because he was expensive to make. but if you really wanted to, you could just make another version of him that was even better.
one day while you were doing your silly little things in your silly little lab... your creation burst into your office with a few of his teammates following beside him.
"give up you evil..."
his voice falls flat, eyes widening as the long sword he pointed at you slowly got lowered. you merely raised an eyebrow, frowning at him as his teammates continue to point their weapons at you. oh, did the corporate people send these guys to kill you?
you were going to willingly give up, cause, well, there's no way you were going to win in a fight against your creation. not when you created him to be a god in human form. he'd kill you before you even got the chance to stand up.
however...
you could only stand in silence as his sword pierced his teammates and ended their lives brutally. what the? he's killing them??
their screams of pain and terror ring through your ears as your creation steps towards you, blood on his hands and face as he drops in front of your legs. he kneels on the ground, his cheeks a beautiful shade of red as he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.
"my creator."
he mumbles, getting you all bloody as well. you didn't dare to move from your spot, fearing that he might kill you if you resisted him. damn, did he remember you or something? did seeing you unlock some sleeping memory that you created him?
you didn't know, and you didn't want to know. especially not with how he looks crazed for you now. did growing up as a soldier of war make him lose a few screws? it probably did. because why is he now carrying you in his arms and treating you like you're some sort of god?
"um-"
"hush now, we'll have plenty of time to talk once this is done."
your creation then kills everyone in the vicinity, bringing the palce where you work to ruins and making it totally uninhabitable.
...then he floats away awkwardly with you in his arms to some deserted far off island.
"i've finally found you, my creator."
"erm-"
"we'll be happy together. i'll take care of you."
oh well, at least he has big boobs.
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