#and forced/un genuine i think
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
starscelly · 2 years ago
Note
i’m the question asking anon from earlier and istg literally every time you share something about this au i just become more invested! i will read anything you post about them why do these boys have my heart
robo’s rebellion moment made me chuckle, it’s also so sweet that his mom helped familiarize him with the guitar!
i still don’t know what questions to ask so ig this is like another ‘ today i want to talk about [ insert thing here]’ (heck, it can be another 5 of those, however many you need/want)
i guess a question is how did roope find robo and otter? what made them realize that they fit/work together in that way?
the boys also have my heart and every single inch of space in my brain so i get it !!!! thank u again for ur like. investment and giving me space to blab abt them fudfkskldsfl i appreciate it sm <3 <3
i had to marinate and think a Lot on how robo, jake, and roope all meet bc obviously coming from 3 different places there has to be an element of chance but also. i dont wanna go completely batshit lmao. here's an Attempt at explaining my thoughts!!:
otter still goes to college but instead of bu. bc he's not pursuing hockey. he ends up going to ut austin (its a good communications school and he actually has a communications degree like. real life)
he doesnt rlly Love school but he’s figuring out what he wants in life and his parents wanted him to go. so.
robo and him meet at some random ass show in texas, where robo only is bc his family drove over in the rv for a Different show
they dont immediately run off together and play music lol but they do keep in contact via text and calls for a few months, rlly Bond and become super close
robo comes through texas with his family again eventually but theyre not performing in austin this time, just dallas. so jake goes out there to see them
they've kind of vaguely been talking abt forming their own band at this point but obviously there's the distance that both of them are kind of. scared to close on a whim for smthn that might not work. and also they want to get someone who can consistently do lead vocals and play bass etc
anyways. they have a couple free days so they go to random house shows and smaller venues around dallas
roope is in the area bc at this time he's playing in the NAHL but heavily considering dropping hockey for music (he Actually played for bismarck and for like 2 games but. for the au ive decided he played longer for the lone star brahmas lol) and is basically just trying to find out what he's heading for, what he Wants
they see roope performing with a band that is like. Not His but just kind of a random assortment of his friends in the scene fucking around having fun (the house show is at one of his friend's places)
and roope is not. a great singer. he's not professionally trained and amazing. but he has a really fucking unique and cool voice (they will later find out this is bc of his accent and aversion to having a clear throat) so theyre like. heavily heavily intrigued bc they think it could make for a sick sound . in their band. what a coincidence!!
robo. looking like the most average dude ever. walks up to him after like hey ... we saw u from across the punk house and rlly dig ur vibe. and otter is kind of mortified but also is like ^^ play music with us please just to see ^^
roope is in an . emotionally difficult time in his life trying to decide if he wants to take a leap and leave all he's ever known his entire life. so obviously he jumps at the first chance and is like. Fuck It let's do it
obviously there's more logistics - roope finishes out his season before fully committing to the band, robo has to have this whole discussion with his family and have this emotional ass move to dallas, otter doesnt drop out completely but does have to explain to his family that his band is going to be his first priority at some point and starts taking only online classes etc - but thats how those three kind of. Meet and Click
theyre also still having bassist woes and thats when roope calls miro etc but. this isnt abt him rn for once
its a weird mix of a lot of Right Place Right Time scenarios, but how else do two americans who have no reason to ever meet end up with two finns who have little reason to be in america in the first place!!
i also think at first there's not really. Issues necessarily. but it takes a while for otter and robo, who are both super friendly open people, to kind of figure out roope's whole thing so they can finally click. which he's not Unfriendly per se but also he's not going out of his way to make conversation. but once they figure out oh he doesnt hate us and he's not even like one of those mean snappy punks he's just. european.. it's all relatively smooth sailing from there lol . it also helps when miro finally arrives and is both much friendlier at face value and also has roope being overly affectionate and up his ass 24/7 (which eventually bleeds over into his interactions with the other two)
3 notes · View notes
ghostwhippet · 2 months ago
Text
From Scratch
Nutrition Info: Johnny/Reader; 4k; a meetcute launched by Reader's inability to cook reasonable portions, and Johnny's... well, just Johnny
Tumblr media
No matter how long you live alone, you can’t get the hang of cooking for one person. Even when you try to make a single-serving meal instead of batch cooking, somehow it balloons out of control. Wasting food makes you feel awful, but you can only freeze so much.
One evening, desperate and utterly fed up, you go kick gently at a neighbor’s door, both hands full, trying to mimic a knock with your shoe. Jason, you think his name was? Striking blue eyes, big frame, a cute cropped mohawk, amazing brogue, and he’s always been cordial when you’ve run into him around the building. Friendly, but not too friendly.
He’s understandably confused by your request at first, but seems happy enough for the food, and takes it around your repeated apologies–for bothering him, for existing, for anything you can find, really.
Unfortunately, not even forcing yourself to go and do all of that manages to pierce your shite sense of volume. Your trips to his door do get less awkward over time, though. And Johnny, his name is, always has sparklingly clean dishes and containers to return in exchange for the full ones. 
Eventually he just starts showing up at your place instead and eats with you at your bar counter. He didn’t really ask, and you definitely didn’t, but there he is all the same, and… if you're honest? He’s just so easy to be around, it quickly feels natural having him there. He puts you off your guard, puts you at ease and makes you smile, like those are somehow the most natural things in the world.
Tumblr media
From that first night, Johnny has insisted on helping with dishes. Starting the second, he’s always got groceries with him. Even manages to talk you out of your discomfort over accepting them, so well that on his fourth night, you’ve got a small shopping list ready. He’s cheeky, you don’t think he’ll mind. And he is right, after all: you're probably feeding him at least three or four nights out of the week, what with all the leftovers.
You start eating better, and trying new things you'd always planned on “getting around to,” now that you've got a reason to cook beyond not starving. Everything comes out fine the first time you make it, when you’re closely following a recipe, and Johnny has no qualms about trying anything you put in front of him. You’ve never met someone so genuinely un-fussy when it comes to food.
A couple months after he’s started eating at your place, he disappears for a while. “Work trip,” is all he'll say, and you don’t pry, even though you really want to. 
Once he’s back, he starts coming over weekend afternoons sometimes. You do brunch with beer or fancy drinks in champagne flutes, or occasional breakfast on the roof before other people are awake, him in a big hoodie or jumper, and you wearing a thick blanket like it's trying to digest you, looking like a half-drowned cat because no living being is meant to be awake at such an hour. 
You cut fruit into mangled flowers and vague geometric shapes for the brunches, usually while just spending time with him. He tries his hand at it once, with you pulling up videos, laughing the whole time you’re explaining how it’s supposed to work, and the utter bastard is better at it on his first go than you were after weeks. His hands are confoundingly steady, and his hand-eye coordination borders on the unnatural.
That’s probably the official start of his sous chef arc. And that’s what has him spending a night judging your knives and marveling, repeatedly and loudly, that you still have all your fingers.
You might put a piece of eggshell into his omelet that night in retaliation, and he might not even have the decency to react to it.
“...Johnny I can hear it crunching, oh my God would you spit it out!” You manage between laughter that’s got your face hurting.
That happens a lot around him. Smiling so much it hurts.
“Nah, i’s nice texture,” he says around the mouthful, then starts enunciating the longer words. “Very advanced technique. Shows a great awareness of the culinary experience–”
“You’re being such a prat. Why are you being such a prat!”
He talks over you as if he can’t hear you, as if he’s doing some mockingly posh review. “And honestly, the crunching–” he pauses and chomps down on the shell for effect, and how is it still intact, “it really engages the senses. Keeps me immersed in my dining experience.”
You regret loaning him your cooking books. Never again.
After that, though, he steals your knives, takes them home, and they come back so sharp you can cut windowpane slices of potato. He offers to teach you how to do it yourself–after stipulating with heart-clenching eagerness that he’s happy to come over and do it for you any time.
Tumblr media
Johnny gets weirdly into shopping farmer’s markets, walking around discovering new produce and varieties of things he’s never seen before. “Fuck would I know tomatoes come in this color? Look at this thing, it’s like a feckin’... it’s a wee lumpy sunset, isn’t it? And this! Like someone took the heart of a dragon,” his voice had gone terribly dramatic, and you definitely hadn’t covered your face, “and stuck it on a bush somewhere.”
“Baby how are you so huge, but so adorable?” You don't know when the pet names started, but you know he started them; sometimes it feels like you two grew up together. 
You like the challenge of the new and unexpected ingredients that come from his trips, and by this point, he’s keeping your kitchen pretty stocked with whatever oddball pantry items you ask for, so you're set up to deal with almost anything. But on rare occasions he’ll call you with a question, too. You’ve had each other’s numbers for a while, it just made coordinating easier. 
“Oi can you make sommat with uh… fiddlehead ferns?”
You always can, whatever he asks about. It just takes a quick internet search to find out if you can tackle it that same night, or if it needs to wait for another day. Sometimes it ends up disastrous, but like a shot, Johnny has you laughing or throwing something at him (usually-but-not-always also while laughing) before guilt or shame can get a proper foothold.
There was a night when he was too excited about something to wait for you to answer the door when he knocked, and since then, he just sort of comes in on his own after he announces himself—at least when you know to expect him. That feels right, too, just like having him at your counter had.
You’re feeding the both of you almost every night of the week by now, even if you’re still not cooking often. You like being around him so much, you can’t imagine doing it less, not even when cooking is the last thing you want to be doing. It’s like there’s a bubbly little sun in your chest when he’s around.
Tumblr media
Johnny makes you so happy, in fact, and you’re so afraid of losing your time with him, it’s nearly six months before the first time you have to tap out of a dinner, too knackered to make yourself even casually presentable, nevermind cook so much as instant noodles.
He reacts like it’s no problem at all, which of course he’d do, because he’s wonderful, but you don’t manage to keep your heart from dropping that he’s not at least a little sad. That he doesn’t, maybe, look forward to the nights like you do. You know your arrangement is practical, and he’s never been over unless there was food involved, but… well… seeing him seems to have become rather… vital to you.
Which means it’s better to put it away, anyhow, right?
So when, an hour after you’d texted him and basically all he’d said was No problem, thinking takeout, any votes?, he’s coming through your front door with delivery bags and talking a mile a minute like it’s just another night, you're left with your mouth open and your hand on the knob, because… because he's here.
You're not cooking, but he's still here.
You just stand there gobsmacked as he sits on the couch, nattering away, half the food out before he even realizes you’re still playing doorstop. He asks if you’re having the time of your life or if you’re going to come sit down, those horrible (wonderful) crinkles at the sides of his eyes, brows pulled up in the middle.
He looks confused when you say you want to freshen up, like he can’t see that your hair might’ve lost a row with a feral rodent, or that you’re wearing clothes that shouldn’t even be outside of a bin, nevermind on a person. He just tells you the food will get cold, and that it’ll be no good that way.
So you run your hands through your hair and sit, subdued and uncertain like you haven’t been around him in ages, as he amiably fills the silence. You know he can tell you’re not right, but he’s just… acting like it’s ok that you aren’t.
Midway through the meal, he reaches forward to grab a container and put it in front of you, and it makes his knee come up against yours. 
It doesn’t move away when he sits back.
Then, as the night wears on and the very most jagged edges of your weariness have eased, he makes a joke and you bump your shoulder into him in retaliation. It pushes your legs flush… and neither of you do anything to separate them. He just keeps on being Johnny like nothing is different, like nothing strange is happening, like he can’t see how bloody flushed you must be, like the room hasn't turned to glass and burst, leaving the both of you toppling through the air.
You're not stupid, so you have to tell yourself repeatedly that he’s just trying to comfort you. He’s acting completely normal otherwise—for Johnny—and you look like a person in need of a friend tonight. And same as him, you’re at all your meal nights instead of off with friends or dates. At least for him, it’s because of his career. You haven’t even seen him bringing up a new fling in ages.
…You’re not stupid. Right?
After the food is finished, Johnny putters about cleaning up, working his way around your kitchen like he knows it exactly as well as he does. He puts all but one container of leftovers in your fridge. 
You hug your knees comfortably, just sort of watching him, too full of static to be paranoid about it, and he either doesn’t realize or isn’t bothered by it. Not being a complete creep, you don’t keep it up for too long, anyhow. You’ve got plenty to occupy your thoughts.
He surprises you on his way out by casually setting a mug in front of you. He’d made you something hot to drink while he was cleaning up, and you were so spaced you hadn’t realized. He just gives you a little smile, a gentle squeeze on the shoulder with a stroke of his thumb, says, “Wednesday, yeah?” (the night of your next normal get-together), and moves on toward the door. All normal. But there’s some metal in your chest painfully bending itself into unaccustomed shapes, jabbing places that aren’t used to the pressure, pushing into your windpipe until it’s hard to breathe, and you can’t stop yourself from telling him that you made up a new seasoning blend for popcorn, if he’d maybe like to watch a movie before he goes.
He stands there by the door looking at you just for a split second too long, opens his mouth, closes it, then settles right back onto the couch up next to you. He reaches out an arm and pulls you gently into his side, moving in a way that makes it an invitation and not a demand, while he’s talking about what to watch.
You fall asleep there. So does he.
Tumblr media
Things turn a bit funny after that in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. At the surface, everything is the same. But nothing feels the same. Every time there’s a tease, casual touches, close quarters, you have to chant not stupid not stupid not stupid on repeat in your head. He’s just Johnny, that’s all. The guy you could have grown up with.
You keep up the dinners and the weekends, and eventually, finally realize that with him around to take all your extras, you can bake. It’s something you’ve wanted to try forever, but recipes don’t really make single servings, and you never had anyone to pawn off the other 22 muffins or ¾ of the cake onto, or the sheet of croissants, because you absolutely want to try the most fussy, difficult things. And it turns out, when at last he tells you what he does, that Johnny works at the local military base–which at least explains his size–so if he can’t polish something off, well, he knows some blokes.
You’re so excited after that, things almost seem to return to normal. He even comes over and hangs out while you’re baking sometimes. Just knocking about, licking the beaters and the spoons and the bowls, doing dishes as you go, fidgeting with this or that, all while knowing you’re equally as likely to produce something inedible as you are a treat.
Tumblr media
Johnny tells you a little about his career one evening. He says that it means he’s in real danger often, there’s a lot of secrecy with people in his personal life, long absences and surprise ones, shit pay, and likely a brief expiration date. (You don’t really let that last one in). He’s got a bit of a funny look in his eyes when he shares about all of it. Quite focused on you, in a way? It makes your cheeks heat. It isn’t as if it’s on you to approve of his life.
But at least now you understand why he’s on his own. And you suppose you’re a bit small, because while you’re incredibly sad for him, part of you is thrilled that it means he’s not likely to be swept away by someone else too soon.
You just gather yourself up, smile, and tell him that at least he’s spending the time he has as best he can, which is a hell of a lot more than a lot of people do–although you personally hope there’s a lot more of it. And that… at the end, you're glad for all the times you're involved.
Tumblr media
Johnny’s leaning against the counter while you fold nuts and rum-soaked fruit into a thick batter, his normally busy hands jammed into his pockets, posture a bit off, and so close you almost keep elbowing him on accident, the two of you just bantering back and forth. 
You turn your head toward him to fire back, and–
–his mouth is just there, on yours.
He lingers, but doesn’t move otherwise. It’s… testing, you think. You feel his lips shake against yours, in fact, just once. 
Your shock dies fast and your eyes slip closed, and while it’s a brief kiss, when he pulls away, you don’t open them. You can’t. Because if you’re honest, you’ve probably been gone for him since the first time you gave him a friendly hug goodnight, and it’s only ever gotten worse. If you open your eyes, this won’t be real, or it won’t have happened, or it will shatter somehow.
After a pause, he runs the back of a finger down your temple, trailing the side of your face to your jaw. You still won’t open your eyes, so he just toys with your face until you do.
He’s got a soul-crushing smile at the corners of his eyes.
“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he admits into the quiet.
“...Oh?” Your voice is embarrassingly, unhelpfully breathy. It’d probably be mortifying, if you had the mental capacity to fully register embarrassment at the moment.
He pauses, smile making its way to his lips, and curling them up at the corners, bit by bit. He cants his head, just a little, like he wants to see you from another angle. “Aye. …Might’ve been since the first time I saw you at the mailboxes.”
“Oh?” 
That had been one of the first times you remember ever seeing him. He never said a word to you other than, “Mornin’” or “Evenin’,” if he said anything at all.
His smile blooms until you can see his teeth. “You were wearing this little shirt. Green, thin. Bit worn, like it was a favorite. Showed a wee spot of skin at your back.” His fingers brush the spot, soft and testing, near the base of your spine, and it jolts you from scalp to toes. “Might’ve… lost some time, thinking about what it’d feel like if I slid my hand up there.” He toys with the hem of your shirt and steps in, voice going deeper and rougher around the edges. “Might’ve imagined pushing it up, getting a bit closer. Really might’ve imagined putting your back up to the slots, mo–”
You kiss him this time, before he can go on, and it’s anything but testing.
And just like everything else about him, this fits. 
His mouth fits against yours. His body fits against yours. And as if some band of control snaps, so abruptly you swear you feel it jolt through his skin, he's got you up on the counter, his thighs between yours, both of you already breathing hard.
His hands on you are perfect, calloused, slipping up under the back of your shirt, smoothing and gripping, making your chest and your thighs feel molten. It's ravenous, like he just has to touch your skin, has to get you closer. You arch toward him, fingers running up through his hair, legs curling around his and pulling him nearer.
His hips are carefully, stubbornly, infuriatingly back from you, but the kiss is so full of need, so close, that some of his breaths sound hollow against your mouth. It's like he can't decide whether inhaling or devouring you is more important, so he just doesn't choose.
When you're at the point of moaning unintentionally, of hungry little sounds forcing their way out of your chest, of your hips moving against the counter in desperation, when you're moments from outright begging, Johnny pulls back, and goes further when you try to chase his mouth.
His lips are red and full, his face dark--much worse when he catches sight of how completely drunk you must look--and he's panting. His fingers dig into your hips like he's trying to keep one or both of you from drowning. He squeezes his eyes shut.
You don't mean to, you really don't, but you look down, and lord help you but–
“That looks painful,” you tell him. Your voice sounds like it's been run over a washboard. He's tented against his denim, and his size is… proportional.
…You can't seem to remember how to make yourself look up.
“Really rather not talk about my cock just now, love,” he gravels, fingers clenching briefly against you. His head tips forward onto your shoulder, breaths panting out against your collar bone, leaving you to pick up every bit of heat he's trying to get out of himself.
You hum, teasing. “Shame, because I can't think of anything I'd rather talk ab—”
His big paw covers your mouth. “For the love of every Saint, I’m beggi—”
You cut him off right back. By licking his palm.
He recoils in horror, but the moment your eyes meet, you both burst into laughter, made worse every time he tries to tell you how disgusting that is, something about his sisters as kids, you don't know what else.
You're the first to sober, breathing almost back to normal, thoughts already whirring on fast-forward. You look down, pulling your knees together, hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Are we…. Will we be ok, after this?”
You peek up to see him looking at you like you're daft.
“‘S been the better part of a year,” he says softly, moving forward and running his thumbs over your knees. Asking your legs to make room again, to let him get close again. “Have you really not figured it out, all this time?” 
Your legs open hesitantly, and he steps in and, when you look up at him, kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, slow and warm and so tender it feels like your chest is cracking right down the center.
Eyes closed, brows a little pinched, you murmur, “We can't all be SAS savants, Johnny.” Maybe you know. Maybe. But it has been all this time, so maybe you need to hear it, too.
He's still kissing, pace unhurried and savouring, making his way to your jaw and just beneath it. But it's calming now, somewhere between reverential and still trying to bring the both of you down. Himself especially, you think.
“Then let me spell it out for you. Gladly.” He noses up against the bottom of your ear and roughs, “You are fucking stuck with me. Glued. Bloody welded.” He huffs a laugh and leans back upright—but not all the way, not too far back. “This isnae a new thing for me. You know that, right? I just….” He shakes his head and abandons the thought, “Hell, my mates have already been asking when they can come over for dinner, the dobbers.”
Your brows shoot up. “You've talked about me at work?”
He looks down, and while his face is in half a scowl, you'd swear he does it to hide a slight flush, too. “Haven't shut up about you, more like. Should hear what my Lieutenant– Ach, nevermind that.”
You hurry to say that they're welcome any time, but it makes him scowl fully.
“Not exactly keen on the idea just yet.” He puts his arms around you, buries his face in your neck, and just stands there, breathing you in. He mutters into the crook of your shoulder, “Mind if I stay like this for a bit? Just while I, uh… calm down.”
His hips are still well back from you. You’re not sure you’ve ever adored and hated him so much at once.
“I’d really like that,” you tell him softly, arms going around his ribs, hands on his shoulders, chest to chest.
It's warm and resounding like this, so after a spell, without thinking, you bite his shoulder. Just sink your teeth in and leave them there. It’s not even entirely conscious, it's just so comfortable and comforting.
“All good, there, wee piranha?” he eventually asks, a smile in his voice.
You detach instantly. “Ah, sorry! I, uh, might have a tiny bit of an oral fixation.”
He groans. “Are ye trying to do me in?”
“I’m not the one who said we had to stop, Mr. Military Discipline.”
His eyes darken in a flash, but he tamps down on it just as quickly and gets that godawful cocky look on his face, instead. “Pardon me for not wanting to rush something that really matters.” His tone goes so soft at the end that you can’t even be mad at him--exactly as you know he intended, the great bastard.
“How did I not know what a sadist you are?”
And that look means he’s about to make you eat your words.
“Johnny I will happily kill you in your sleep.”
“I could handle that. Means you'd be in my bed, aye?”
He pulls your hands up from the death grip they've found on the edge of the counter and laces your fingers together. “I dinnae….” He clears his throat, frowns. “Just being away on deployment is shite now, and I love what I do. But I miss you while I'm gone, think about you back here all the bloody time, and we havnae even….”
When he doesn’t finish, you whisper, heart clenching with the realization, “You really don't want to rush this.”
He laughs quietly like he wants to argue. But what he says is, “No. I don't. But while that's true….” He steps in, chin ducking, eyes darkening even as they shine, voice lowering. “What do you say we turn the oven off? I've a funny feeling you willnae be getting around to that bake today.”
Tumblr media
Masterlist
1K notes · View notes
gyuswhore · 5 months ago
Text
Statistically Speaking...
Tumblr media
part of the svt TA collab
[full fic here]
kim mingyu x reader
est. word count: 10-15k [fat chance]
est. release date: 10th September
warnings: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], angst, statistics, more to be added in final post
synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.
‼️ JOIN THE TAGLIST by sending an ask or replying under this post. AGE INDICATORS ON YOUR BLOG ARE NECESSARY. ‼️
[a/n]: first look into the TA collab fic!!! @camandemstudios has been along time in the making and I cant wait for you all to read all of the fics in full. accept this piece offering from me and please let me know what you think of it so far!
masterlist
Tumblr media
“Right. How can I help you?”
Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 
One look at the sparse format of the cover page, Mingyu blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 
“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 
“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he genuinely wanted to know. 
It stumps you regardless.
“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 
“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.
“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and wording were the problem.”
“You marked them?”
He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”
“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”
“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”
Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 
Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as the next words leave you in a low voice, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he says it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”
He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 
Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.
“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”
You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”
“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”
“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.
Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”
“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”
“Dr. Cho—”
“Is no help.”
“I understand—”
“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”
It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 
“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”
Help, he did. 
Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered different colours of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 
It’s only then that you spot the segregated stack of papers in your bag that you remember. 
“I almost forgot,” you say, grabbing the pile and placing it in front of him. 
“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply. 
“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”
“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”
You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”
It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he says something. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”
“Pardon?”
He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 
Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”
He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”
You smile, “No problem.”
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
beloved-calypso · 1 year ago
Text
・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒? ♡ ・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡ 18+!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁.” – 𝐿𝓊𝒹𝓌𝒾𝑔 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒾𝓃 ♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
All pictures and gifs are not mine but belong to their original artists. ♡
Tumblr media
I. -> II. -> III.
ᴍᴅɴɪ!!! ʏᴇᴘ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴡᴏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇ. ᴇxᴄᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ.
~ XOXO 💋🎀
౿૮꒰ྀི pile 1 ๑◞꒱ა
[2 of Swords rx, Emperor, Judgment rx]
Well pile 1, your sexual prowess is rough and playful. I think you have a dominant streak, or at the very least, you like to take the reigns from your partner, and guide how the night goes. I think ya'll are natural leaders, and have the need to take control for yourselves. The ones that pick this pile are definitely toppers. I'm seeing some wild-girl cowgirl positions mostly front facing, but some back rides as well. Do some of ya'll go to a ranch and ride horses? Ya'll have strong thighs and stamina. Ya'll like to grind and ride and have a fun time doing so, may have a reference for teasing and play-fighting. You make sure that your partner is the focus and that they are completely distracted and absorbed by you, like nothing matters in comparison to the moment. Your partners find this irresistible, tempting. Your demeanor feels playful, I can see you being the initiator, and rarely will you ever be denied. You may like to sex it up in unfamiliar spaces, experiment here and there and try new things. You can be a bit demanding, even forceful, but your partners will like it. They find it sexy, and are relieved that they have found a partner who can speak their mind and is able to handle even the awkward, embarrassing parts of sex with grace. I think you give them the space to think, to pause for a moment in their busy, possibly tumultuous lives, and let loose with your sex. You create a bubble like atmosphere where it's just you and your partner, and you both can relax and be yourselves, all giggles, smiles, and laughter. I can see you directing the way things play out; play fighting, subduing, and then consuming. I see you being the type of lover that is excitable, loud, and always un-serious. You may like to start off with foreplay-touching, squeezing and embracing-and then the main event, making sure needs are attended for and that you both are satisfied. Not seeing many quickies. You like to enjoy yourself, and take as much time is needed to commit to the act. Sex is a fun exorcise to stress and negativity. Climax's are maximized and prolonged. I can tell ya'll are lovers of penetration and motion, and are very good at pacing. I heard you put the motion in the ocean 😂. I genuinely laughed with those one. But ya'll are so free and enticing. I can see that the best parts of your sex are the way your partners can relax with you, melt in you. They are comfortable enough to let you take control, and they are relieved at someone that can give them pleasure just as much as they take it from them. Your sex feels so fun and freeing.
⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧
౿૮꒰ྀི pile 2 ๑◞꒱ა
[9 of Wands rx, 8 of Swords, Knight of Cups]
Ya'll are slow lovers. I think the most important thing other than exploring each others bodies is exploring the others' minds. Vulnerability is a big highlight here. In order to satisfy you, your partners need to come with mental stimulation and not just physical. I'm getting in general, you like to unravel your partners, do to them as you would a piece of chocolate in a wrapper. Your partners feel quite naked with you, figuratively and literally. It's hard not to attach to you because in order to bed you, your partners feel like they have to sacrifice something to you. I got a vision of you in a cave at an altar, lit with candlelight, and a person with a hopeful, almost fearful, look on their face, on their knees with an offering presented. They can't come to you with an empty plate and expect to win you over. I don't think ya'll would give your time to casual relationships either. Partners would have to work at lowering your defenses. You're like a princess protected by a moat. On the outside, you may come off as closed off and uninterested, but there is much activity going on in your mental space. You have a lot to offer, but partners need to come to you with just as much. You're quite selective and come towards those that match your energy. I think you prefer sex at a slow, measured pace. I'm getting my lovemakers here, and the energy is very dream-like and cozy, like a person wrapped up in blankets, eyes closed, and day-dreaming. There's also a pronounced aspect of wetness in your sex. Lots of fluids are exchanged here, and a playing of those fluids. Why did I hear, "relaxed cumplay,"and "slip and slide", lmao. You may get very wet, like to play with oils and lubricates, and are attracted to sweat and moist skin. It's also the emotions revealed in sex that attract you. I see your partners get so worked up that they climax big and long. You transport people into a fantasy. You may especially like to cater to people and agree to whatever you wish they share with you. There's also a need to please and serve. Your touch is very soft and giving. I'm getting roleplay and sensory play. Your bedroom is such a secluded and sacred space that every partner will feel like stepping into it, is like stepping into a new world. I think you like to push your partners and make them open up to you, but gradually and slowly, so that they are willing. ✨️Very Lilith vibes.✨️It's giving the impression of control through submission. This pile is more into vanilla stuff but enhanced, like conventional kinks if that makes sense. Sex while soft and slow won't be boring. It will be emotionally fulfilling. The excitement that comes from the build-up alone will be enjoyable. If you imprint anything on your partners, it's that sex isn't a race, it's a journey, and the small things do matter in the end goal.
⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧
౿૮꒰ྀི pile 3 ๑◞꒱ა
9 of Cups, The Emperor, Wheel of Fortune
People here have a big personality and a competitive streak. Sex with you is exciting and unpredictable. There's a want to prove something through sex, as if it's a battlefield of some sort, and only one can come out the winner. I feel like a few people in particular have a thing for woman empowerment, and want to prove just how powerful they are through sexual means. Ya'll use it as a style of communication, as an expression of sides of yourself that can't be easily seen or received. I think this pile has sex for the fun of it, and there's a pinch of mischief that comes out once the bedroom door is closed. This pile likes to play coy, likes to tease and rile up their partners and prolong their anticipation. I think ya'll are quite wild in the bedroom, and I just saw a vision of two people going at it like tumbleweeds, lol. I think the want for sex often corresponds with your moods, and your tastes can vary widely, so your a sporadic lover, the type able to adjust to anything thrown at them and improvise, also the type able to be 100 different people in the bedroom. Pile 3 are some minxes. I think some of the people here are short, and get a kick out of acting bigger than they are. It's cute. I think a big thing that comes out is your masculine side. Like I said that competitive energy stems from a need to please and be the best pleaser. Your masculinity makes you eager and able to confidently do things others would be too shy to do. I think ya'll focus on creating multiple climaxes; multiple sessions, multiple places, multiple positions. The possibilities are endless, and there are many records to break is my point. Ya'll are very driven and full of energy. That translates into a fast and frenetic passion of the moment. Your partners absorb your energy, try to match you and share in your delight. I see lovemaking in the morning, a couple fresh from deep sleep, still looking disgruntled, but warm sunshine cutting through the curtains and laughter seeping through blankets. I'm not seeing specific kinks, but I see a platter with a variety of assortments. Ya'll are comfortable in your bodies and may like to study on different, sometimes extreme, positions to try next. I think this pile are Kama Sutra naturals. Sex isn’t taken too seriously, but it brings some measure of emotional fulfillment. Your partners find satisfaction quickly, completely, and they succumb to a warm afterglow in the end. I feel this pile has the best hugs and the best aftercare. I feel the comfort of a bear hug and the warmth that comes with it. It feels very tender and very at odds with what would be an exhausting but vigorous bout of sex, but it works out in an endearing way.
⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧
ᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄɪꜱᴍꜱ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ♡
Tumblr media
ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ
© lolita-bonita — Please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other social media platforms without my permission. This is the only platform that I post this type of content. If you see my work being posted anywhere else, please kindly report them to me. ♡
⊱┈───── ✧
✨️ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Tarot is not an exact science, nor can it produce information that is factually true. All things posted are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The future is fluid, and what may happen is based on your choices and actions, not what I and a deck of cards say. You are still the creator of your future. ✨️
⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧
1K notes · View notes
phossiii · 17 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
。𖦹°‧⭑ monsters: chapter nine
synopsis: phosphorus proposes an arrangement for when you both get back to belle reve. and then you both get busy in the royal broom closet.
cw: reader is a monster, mature themes, violence, profanity, innuendos, phosphorus is phosphorus, you both obviously do it
Tumblr media
"This should help," you warned from your spot on the floor, igniting your hand with hellflame. "I don't know how resistant your powers make you to fire, but either way it might sting a bit."
As you paused a moment, Phosphorus took a few breaths, gathering himself before slowly moving his hand away from his gash, allowing you to carefully grab his arm and hold it in front of you.
Once you were sure he was ready, you pressed a flaming palm against his wound, forcing a loud, painful groan to rip from his throat.
"Jesus fucking Christ, (y/n)!"
"I know, I know. But it's gonna hurt even more if you keep squirming like that..."
Angry, his gaze turned to Weasel, who sat across the hallway with a few thankful guards, happily accepting their scratches and head-pats of gratitude.
"Un-fucking-believable," he scoffed, under his breath. "He gets the fish girl killed, tears apart my arm, and somehow he's the freaking hero?!"
"You want the knights to pet you, Phosphorus?" the Bride turned to him, sharply, annoyed.
"Well... yes," he responded, simply. "If there hands didn't burn off? Maybe. You know what it's like not being touched for fifteen years?"
Hearing the slight pain in his voice, your heart couldn't help but tug.
That night you two spent together... was that the first time in fifteen years that he'd touched a woman?
Although the thought was innately disheartening, you couldn't help the faint swell of pride and possessiveness that awoke in your veins.
As far as you knew, you were the only woman in the world he could be with without horribly maiming her in some way.
The only one he could kiss.
The only one he could hold.
The only one he could feel.
That fact brought you more satisfaction than you cared to admit.
It was selfish... it was sadistic... but was such a goddamn relief.
"Yes... I do."
And with that, the Bride stood from her seat, starting off toward the hallway.
"Where are you going?" Phosphorus asked, raising a brow.
"I'll be back," she answered, darkly, before turning the corner.
"There," you sighed, extinguishing your flame and removing your palm to reveal his arm, now healed. "Good as new."
Phosphorus huffed in amusement, surprised, as he flexed his hand, the pain completely gone along with any sign of the wound ever being there.
"That's a neat trick you got there," he commended, genuinely. "Can't even tell where it was."
"Yeah, well, enjoy it. That's your only freebie," you joked, halfheartedly. "Next time'll cost you."
"Oh, yeah?" he cocked a brow, his pointer and his thumb hooking on your chin and pulling you closer, until your mouth was just a hair away from his. "How much?"
"Alex..." you warned, eyes flicking toward the guards, who, luckily, were still fawning over Weasel. "Not here."
"Don't you think I deserve a little reward for my chivalry? I protected your body when you went all catatonic."
"You sat next to me while I was asleep. I'd hardly call that chivalry."
"I put a couple leaves under your head as a pillow."
"My fist has a direct route to your dick at this angle. You wanna keep talking or do what I asked?"
With an annoyed groan, he dropped your chin, leaning back in his seat and allowing you to stand up.
But before you could even rise to your full height, he shot up from his seat, tossing you over his shoulder and starting off down the hall in one fluid motion.
"What the—?! Alex! Put me down! What the fuck are you doing?!" you exclaimed, face burning with embarrassment.
"You said not here. So we're going somewhere private."
Turning the corner, he came up on a broom closet and immediately yanked it open, tossing you in before joining you and shutting the door behind himself.
Though... not all the way.
"Who the fuck do you think you a—?!"
Quickly, Phosphorus's hand clasped over your mouth, forcing you to pipe down.
"For once in your life, shut that pretty, little mouth and listen."
His tone lit up your body like a live-wire, reminding you so vividly of the events of that night.
God, did you have a thing for bossy men?
He paused for a moment, waiting for some sort of retort; but when he realized you weren't going to say anything, he smirked, his hand slowly dropping from your face.
"Good girl," he nodded, smoothly, his hand coming to rest on the wall behind you. "Now, there are some things we have to discuss before we're shipped off back to Bell Reve."
Intrigued, you remained quiet, swallowing thickly at his close proximity, the heat of his radiation rolling over you in waves within the confined space.
"I don't know what this is, and, frankly, I don't care to figure it out," Phosphorus started, plainly, his eyes trailing up and down your body with a look of carnal need. "But I like it... and I like you. So I propose a deal."
You raised a brow, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Go on..."
"You become mine," he stated. "My girl, my gal, my woman, I don't give a shit what you wanna call it. But you're mine. And I get to touch you and hold you and kiss you whenever I like... in exchange for mind-blowing sex."
...
You almost laughed in his face.
"Yours?" you scoffed, amused. "What on earth gave you the insinuation that I'd ever want to be yours?"
"Don't play dumb, doll face. I've seen the way you look at me."
"Oh, yeah? Like what?"
"Like you wanna eat me."
"More like strangle you."
"If that's what gets you off..."
"My God, you're really serious about this."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"What do you gain from me being your prison girlfriend?"
"Not prison girlfriend. You'd still be mine when we're on missions."
"This is insane."
"Is it that hard to believe I enjoy your company?" Phosphorus asked, stepping closer, forcing your back to press against the wall as his hand slid down your side, resting on your hip. "Among... other things?"
"Alex..." you warned once again, suddenly breathless.
"How about I give you a trial run?"
"Wha—oh!"
His hands gripped your ass cheeks, allowing him to hoist you up and further press you into the wall.
His lips were on yours in an instant, kissing you impatiently as he groaned into your mouth, already overwhelmed by how good you felt in his grasp.
"Alex—"
"These are gone," he whispered, using his powers to burn the button off your pants.
You'd survived the past week or so without intimacy perfectly fine—save for a few urges or intrusive thoughts— but hearing the want, hearing the need, in Phosphorus's voice reminded you why you had sex with him in the first place.
Your eyes rolled back as he started panting in your ear, yanking off your shorts and tucking your panties in his pocket before carefully sliding his two fingers into your mouth.
"Suck."
And to his severe arousal, you complied, staring directly into his eyes as you made a show out of dragging your tongue over his irradiated middle finger.
'Fucking Christ...'
If only he had enough patience to have those pretty lips around his cock...
Before he could get too distracted, he quickly pulled them out and plunged them inside your wet cunt, attaching his lips to your neck in the meanwhile.
"A-Alex..." you moaned, allowing your eyes to fall shut and your leg to wrap around him, his free hand holding up your thigh to keep you steady.
Through your pleasure, you tried to tell him to shut the door completely, as anyone walking by could've easily heard you both fooling around in the closet.
But you were already fucked out.
And even if he could understand you, you were sure he didn't care.
It wasn't long before that familiar coil in your stomach began to tighten, effortlessly reminding your body of what it had forgot to miss.
"M'cummin'!"
"Cum for me."
That husky tone was all it took for you to make a mess on his fingers.
But he knew he didn't have time to bask.
The Bride would be back any moment, and when she was, you both would have to join her on that damned plane back to prison.
Not wasting any time, he quickly sucked your juices off his fingers before sending his free hand to undo his belt, allowing him to tug his cock free from the confines of his pants.
As he began to shift you into position, you tightly gripped his shoulders, letting out a more quiet moan at his obvious display of strength.
'Jesus Christ, how much time does he spend in the yard?'
Phosphorus tugged your top down, freeing your breasts for his kissing and biting pleasure.
God, how he missed your tits.
"Alex... fuck," you whined as he felt his cock glide its way in, making you clench with anticipation.
He still held you by your ass, and you still wrapped your arms around his neck as he proceeded to drive into you at a manic pace.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Phosphorus panted and cursed with each pump, only forcing you to moan louder.
Your nails dragged harshly against his back, your tail squirming with pleasure, the pads of your fingertips burning hotter and hotter with each passing second.
If he was in his right mind, he would've realized that you were actually hurting him quite a bit, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
All he needed was to be as close to and as deep inside of you as physically possible.
"Fuck, Alex!" you gasped when he hit a particular spongy spot in your core, your grip tightening around the nape of his neck. "Right there! God, right there!"
Anybody remotely nearby could hear you both by the bottles of cleaning supplies falling, the few books crashing down, and the exchange of heavy breathing and cursing.
Hell, it was miracle you two hadn't been caught.
Your eyes screwed shut once again, every cell in your body feeling as if it was going to burst at any moment.
"Cum with me, okay?" Phosphorus sounded as if he was pleading, possibly even begging. "Cum with me."
You neck was wet with his saliva and littered with hickeys, which would no doubt raise suspicion.
But—as is the common theme with the skeleton—he didn't care.
All he wanted to do... was feel you.
He needed to feel you.
"Cummin', Alex!"
"Good girl—ah—good... fucking girl!"
Phosphorus slammed his last thrust in you with a flourish, the two of you reaching your climax at the exact same time.
In a bout of ferality, you sank your teeth into his neck, the man letting out a hungered groan at the feeling of your fangs digging into his skin.
The two of you rode out your highs together smoothly, soft pants and curses echoing through the small space as Phosphorus lazily thrusted into you, before finally pulling out.
Carefully, he placed you back down on the ground, quickly tucking his dick back in his pants before meeting your gaze.
The two of you stared at each other for a moment.
A long, silent moment... before you were on each other once again.
Only this time, it was more intimate.
As you threw your arms around his neck, he pulled you in by your waist, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek as your lips met each other's once again in a breath-stealing kiss.
But, rather than filled with ferocity and need, it was surprisingly tender.
Within it, everything seemed to fade away.
The castle.
The commandos.
Your impending incarceration.
The whole world seemed to disappear, leaving you two alone with nothing but uncertainty and an indescribable feeling.
All in the middle of a broom closet.
When you two pulled apart, your eyes scanned over his face, a small smile cracking onto your lips as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"You sold me," you panted, convinced.
"Had no doubt I would," he grinned, cockily. "If I'm being honest, I think I have a magic dick."
"Of course you do."
With a roll of your eyes, you turned around, the two of you quickly dressing yourselves before exiting the disheveled closet and re-entering the foyer.
At the exact same time as the Bride.
"Let's go," she ordered, power-walking toward the exit. "Best make it fast."
The Weasel quickly shot up from his seat, joining the four of you on your way out.
Though... not without exchanging a few glares with Phosphorus.
"Take it easy, you two," you warned, shifting to walk in between them, as to prevent any further turmoil.
"I need to ask you some questions before you g—"
The Bride quickly grabbed the older man by his face, slamming him into the ground and out of the way before stepping over his body, the rest of you doing the same.
When you all reached the outside, and began walking toward the sunset, the Bride couldn't help but let a few tears slip at the lost of her close friend, Nina.
Moving closer, you rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she was quick to wipe the tears away.
"Y'know..." she started, cracking a halfhearted grin as her eyes flicked over your hair and neck. "You and Jack Skellington have really got to learn to keep it in your pants."
Your face burned with embarrassment, you hands quickly snapping up to fix your hair and cover your hickeys.
"Kinda hard with this piece of ass," Phosphorus chuckled, unabashedly, as he smacked your ass. "Right, babe?"
"Please... stop talking."
Tumblr media
231 notes · View notes
ninibeingdelulu · 7 months ago
Text
"I'm right here"
plot- an argument with depressed geto CLICK ME
Tumblr media
"I can't believe you're being like this!"
Suguru's voice cracked with frustrated accusation, slamming his textbook down with enough force to make you flinch.
"It's like you're purposefully trying to drive a wedge between Satoru and me just because you're jealous!"
You felt your hands ball into fists at your sides as that familiar spike of molten defensiveness surged through your veins.
How dare he diminish your concerns so callously after everything you'd been through together? As if your feelings were some trite, immature flight of fancy rather than the genuine loneliness you'd been grappling with lately.
"Jealous?" you scoffed, tossing your pencil aside with a heated glare.
"You really think I'm that petty? That this is just me throwing some pathetic tantrum over not getting enough attention from Wunderkind Geto?"
Suguru opened his mouth - undoubtedly to fire back with another biting remark - but you barreled forward, finally allowing the dam holding back weeks of bottled resentment to burst open.
No more mincing words or letting things fester until they'd reached this ugly, toxic fever pitch.
"I'm worried about you, jackass!"
You shoved off the couch, gesturing wildly as the torrent of pent-up emotions flooded free in a tumultuous rush.
"That's all I've wanted from the start! For you to actually let me in about what's been eating you up so badly lately that you've become a total goddamn stranger!"
Suguru seemed to visibly deflate somewhat under the brunt force of your outburst. But that brief hesitation was rapidly replaced by the familiar stubborn set of his squared jaw and narrowed onyx gaze which indicated the imminent eruption of his own fiery temper.
"Oh, so now you're my therapist?" he sneered, bracing his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in your direction with acerbic challenge.
"Sorry I've been such an inconvenience while busting my ass trying to actually secure my future instead of wasting time with teenage melodrama!"
You shook your head in disbelief, throwing your hands up as another harsh bark of laughter cut through the tension like a serrated blade.
"Un-fucking-believable...Is that seriously what you think this is about? Me being petty over you 'wasting time' with dumb high school bullshit?!"
Suguru simply glowered in stony silence, the muscle in his clenched jaw visibly twitching.
Waiting for you to either continue your tirade or offer more proof of your apparent delusions over the state of things between you.
Well, if he wanted you to spell out the tangled knot of anguish and confused longing festering in your chest with stark clarity...Then so be it.
"I'm in love with you, you arrogant prick!"
The confession exploded out of you with enough volcanic force to make you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.
Yet once uncorked, there was no recapturing the deluge as it raged on, raw and unfettered.
"And it's been ripping me apart watching you spiral so far down in this pit of darkness without letting anyone in to try and pull you back out!"
Suguru looked as though he'd been struck across the face.
All residual ire seeping away into slack-jawed shock and visceral vulnerability cracking those steely exterior walls you'd slammed against so fruitlessly in the past.
His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, those intense obsidian eyes you used to lose yourself in now swimming with a thousand different conflicting emotions roiling in their tumultuous depths.
The sudden, stark silence stretching between you was enough to buffer even the frantic hammering of your pulse thundering past your ears.
The fear of obliterating one of the most important relationships of your life in that combustive outpouring constricted around your throat like a vise of pure dread.
Then, after what felt like an eternity...Suguru's expression shifted again.
His features settling into an almost haunted kind of resignation piercing directly into your very soul. When he spoke, his typically unflappable baritone emerged cracking and subdued - the most naked glimpse you'd ever witnessed of what laid beneath the surface he fought so vigilantly to repress.
"I...I know..." he confessed in a gust of breath barely above a whisper.
One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare. "Fuck, I've known how you felt and I-I kept pushing you away so I wouldn't hurt you more by—"
The strangled catch in his throat cut off whatever fragile truth seemed to be teetering on the precipice of being laid bare between you.
Suguru's free hand balled into a fist clenching the material of his pants until his knuckles bored white while haunted shadows flickered across his downturned visage.
Never before had you witnessed him look so...utterly wrecked. So excruciatingly human under the weight of inner demons you'd never known to be lurking underneath it all.
Not until they'd already carved out pieces of him you might never get the chance to recover.
But you couldn't allow either of you to retreat into that isolating darkness anymore. Not after clawing your way this deep into the open wounds between you both.
Too many regrets were already trailing behind in your wake...
The deafening silence hung thick and palpable in the wake of Suguru's shattered admission.
You could practically taste the roiling torrent of unspoken truths and anguished vulnerability thrashing violently just beneath the surface he was struggling so viscerally to repress.
You knew with every fiber of your being that if you didn't reach out in this pivotal moment, the fragile threads binding you both together risked snapping under the immense strain.
And you refused to let that happen - even if it meant wading blindly into the shadowy depths of whatever demons were currently carving him hollow from the inside.
Tentatively, you bridged the couch cushions separating you and laid your palm overtop that trembling fist clenched with white-knuckled force against his thigh.
Suguru flinched slightly at the contact, but didn't immediately recoil away. Emboldened by that microscopic victory, you gently pried his fingers open to lace them through your own in silent invitation.
"Suguru..." you murmured, injecting as much tender reassurance into his name as humanly possible.
"Whatever it is causing you so much pain...you don't have to keep shouldering it alone anymore. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."
His jaw clenched spasmodically, those turbulent eyes still steadfastly averted from meeting your concerned gaze.
You could see the muscle twitching in his cheek from the sheer force he was exerting to keep that impenetrable mask locked firmly in place.
But you refused to relent, rubbing the pad of your thumb soothingly across his knuckles in hopes of coaxing him to simply breathe. To open himself up even a sliver after all this time...
"Please," you implored, daring to shuffle closer until your thighs were a hairsbreadth from touching.
Until that painfully unguarded expression was directly in your line of vision, begging to be witnessed without judgment or reprimand.
"Let me help carry this for you, 'Guru. You've been alone with this anguish for too long..."
Finally, finally , some of that tightly wound tension began leeching from his hunched shoulders as if the words had sliced through some of those invisible restraints shackling him down.
Suguru raised his other hand to rake shakily through his tousled raven locks, unravelling before your very eyes.
When his gaze at last lifted to lock with yours, the sight of those inky pools swimming with so much naked, harrowing vulnerability physically winded you.
"I'm so afraid..." he confessed in a ragged whisper thick with shame and trepidation.
His hand convulsed where you clutched it in your lap as if the admission had torn open a fresh, gaping wound inside.
"I've convinced myself I have this grand purpose to dedicate myself to completely, but there's a part of me that wonders if it's all been an excuse...a distraction from facing how truly lost and messed up I've become."
Tears glistened in those haunted obsidian depths and your heart shattered at the sight of Suguru's meticulously constructed walls crumbling before your eyes.
The instinctive need to pull him into your embrace and chase those demons away was near overpowering.
Yet you resisted, allowing him to unfurl at his own pace without outside influence. Simply being the steady presence and supportive tether he so clearly needed more than he'd realized.
"Everyone told me I was destined for greatness after awakening to my talents...That I possessed a gift entrusted to rectify this curse plaguing our kind."
Suguru's voice had descended into a hoarse, halting murmur as the floodgates burst completely open.
Each gravelly syllable etched in anguish carved into his very marrow.
"But deep down, I've always been so goddamn afraid of failing. Of disappointing everyone and being seen as the fraud I've convinced myself I must be for harboring any weakness or-or..."
His words finally failed, fading into a ragged exhalation torn from his very core as he lifted his imploring gaze beseechingly to yours.
"God, why am I like this? Why does any of this matter when all I've wanted is to open my eyes and see you smiling back at me without all this bullshit driving us apart?"
Your throat constricted wordlessly, scorching tears blurring your vision at the utter desolation contorting Suguru's features into the most wrenching expression imaginable.
Here was the strongest, most indomitable person in your life bearing the very depths of his shattered soul before you in total surrender.
And you instantly knew in that pivotal, crystalline moment - there was nowhere else you could ever fathom being that wasn't by his side.
Providing the steadfast strength and acceptance for those fragmented pieces until he felt whole enough to stand on his own once more.
There would be more tears, more shards to sift through together in confronting this pervasive darkness slowly consuming him from the inside out.
But the first painful, cathartic step had been taken. And you fully intended to never allow Suguru to slip backward into that isolating abyss ever again.
So you did the only thing left to reassure him he wasn't alone in this monumental fight for his very sense of self and purpose.
You surged forward and pulled him into your fiercely protective embrace - cradling his shuddering form flush against your chest as his own quiet sobs finally shook loose in heartrending waves.
"I'm here...I'm right here, 'Guru..." you whispered over and over into the downy strands of ebony hair tickling your lips.
"We're going to get through this, I swear it..."
Your shared tears and ragged breaths mingled achingly between your twined bodies as a new, mended path forward gradually unfurled with each passing heartbeat.
From the ashes of everything you thought you'd understood about him and the conflicted world he inhabited...
Bound now by the decision to walk whatever darkened road stretched ahead completely united in purpose and love at long last laid bare - come what may.
423 notes · View notes
mystic-writings · 8 months ago
Text
closing time | robin buckley
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader
SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?
WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three
WORD COUNT — 2,353
NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift
masterlist | navigation
Tumblr media
Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love. 
There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection. 
 But you didn’t know that.
As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game. 
Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.
Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s. 
“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”
Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”
“Dick face, Harrington.”
“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile. 
Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. “I win!” 
“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.” 
“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…” 
Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,” 
“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.
“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!” 
“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards. 
“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.” 
“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.” 
Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.” 
You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.” 
“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.” 
You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?” 
The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed. 
Tumblr media
The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues. 
No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time. 
The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left. 
Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night. 
The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier. 
“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you. 
You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”
Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly. 
“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”
“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.” 
You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,” 
Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”
She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob. 
“What? Robin, what is it?” 
“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!” 
“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!” 
“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you. 
“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,” 
Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office. 
You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!” 
Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”
“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.” 
“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing. 
The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.” 
Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different. 
“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.
“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”
You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.” 
“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.” 
“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”
“When is she not losing her mind?” 
“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.” 
“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!” 
“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,” 
The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!” 
You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.” 
Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”
“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic. 
“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—” 
Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air. 
“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking. 
You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.” 
“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?” 
You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again. 
It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now. 
The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington. 
“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!” 
“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form. 
“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.” 
“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.
“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.
You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”
“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.
Tumblr media
forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads
robin buckley taglist: @sunshine-daisies-library (open!)
taglist form here!
440 notes · View notes
nudityandnerdery · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Image Description: A series of sixteen tweets by John Rogers @jonrog1 that say:
1) A moment at the Teamsters/UPS rally this morning clarified our current struggle with the studio CEO's (among other bosses). Teamsters got a lot of wins, but one of the main sticking points is the pay for the 65% of local UPS workers who are part-time …
2) If you read the SAG-AFTRA demands, a truly STUNNING amount of their points involve protecting background actors, and trying to improve conditions for the 87% of their union who makes less than $26,000 a year.
3) As WGA members know, this is not a strike for the showrunners. We're trying to fix the fact the the current younger generation of writers can't even afford housing and their pathway to advancement has been cut off.
4) Like … folks, I'm fine. There are maybe two proposals in there that affect me. I'm walking in 90% weather and losing over 50% of my income for the year because I want the younger writers to get what I got at this stage of their careers.
5) Our unions and the CEO's and various negotiators have a fundamental cognitive disconnect. Because CEO's types only succeed by FUCKING THEIR PEERS.
6) Zaslav, Iger , those types of execs, etc have never gone without so a fellow exec or a junior exec could thrive. A fellow exec failing is the moment to use your own leverage to advance past them, if not destroy them.
7) Part of it is the money but part of this, I think, is a genuine inability to grasp even the concepts of any labor action. Because it is always other-directed.
8) So many people treat capitalism as part of nature red in tooth and claw, but it's not. It's a human construct. There are different rules you can play by -- but not if you want to win.
9) The greatest gift capitalism ever granted was the ability to validate selfish behavior as a virtue because that's "just what's necessary, I don't make the rules!" (Look ma, it's reification!)
10) This is where I usually point out that Adam Smith wrote that you have to overpay workers to keep your labor force up, and you need to take into account the psychic damage of capitalism to the workers, and that admiring the rich is the greatest source of moral corruption …
11) But I'll stave off that diversion to just land with … this is a discontinuity of attitudes which I think was once breached by the fact that management USED to come from people who loved building their company or their trade, even if they eventually did management shit.
12) Now, even that thin thread of SYMPATHY (Adam Smith joke, get it? People?) is gone. The CEO's are working off a different scorecard, practically and morally. We're not just playing by wildly divergent rules, our lives and careers are DEFINED by those wildly divergent rules.
13) To them, we are IN FACT being "unreasonable", as our behavior does not make sense in their moral framework. They don't think they're being evil, they think they're playing by the actual rules, and we're nuts.
14) There's not great conclusion to this, other than to note that the bit about making writers homeless was described as "cruel but necessary" because they genuinely don't understand the meaning of cruel, because they are always on the other side of the power dynamic.
15) And if they're ever NOT on the top of the power dynamic, they're not suffering, they're dead. They are un-people in their own eyes.
16) These men are not irrational, but they are deranged. This isn't about money, it's about identity. And in a fight about identity … they will set billions on fire.
Because they can always get more money. But they'll never shed the stink of losing to their lessers."
end of image description]
2K notes · View notes
fadelbison · 2 months ago
Text
one of the things that I loved about the fadelstyle stalker date was that despite all of the conflict, style seemed to be the first person that showed an interest in fadel's life - like a genuine hey are you having a good time with your activities level of interest.
He showed up to the restaurant to watch him prep and make commentary. Fadel went all brooding and knife-ey on him sure but we dont see him pull out those biceps that we already know can drag style out.
He calls him chef and helps him out, doing exactly the job that we see Bison abandon earlier in the episode - when was the last time someone made fadel feel like he was something other than a cold blooded killer?
Tumblr media
And then you remember that style and fadel have already had this heartbreaking interaction in episode 1
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Screenshots from Ep1 of Style asking Fadel "You do everything yourself?" and Fadel responding "I do."]
I was never convinced that that interaction was just about the heartburgers management for fadel lol
style is going to figure out they're assassins, style tries to backtrack from the car deal when kant agrees. i think asking for the car was style's way of refusing that favor but when kant agrees he gets curious or really starts believing that kant is in love.
style is probably the most intelligent of the four but he's definitely the most emotionally intelligent of the four though it's masked by his carefree personality - and he has figured out for better or for worse that fadel is lonely, desperately so.
style asks for a list of things that fadel likes doing and the best bison comes up with is his schedule which is exactly the same everyday but bison doesn't even know. and style makes it work. he tries to create intimacy at the burger shop in ep1 with fadel and it fails and when he's handed a schedule that is 70% fadel either prepping for or being at the burger shop, style comes back with companionship on offer.
when bison said fadel's insides need a beating, style correctly interprets it as put that man through the mortifying ordeal of being known and he really does it in a way that's not random. The random method failed so now he's trying to understand fadel, something that fadel hasn't experienced in a long time if he ever has.
And the cookie crumbles in less than a day. fadel should feel some embarassment for how easy it was?
Tumblr media
look at fadel - he's confused. error 404 not found expression on a man if i've ever seen one. there are no internal protocols of handling this situation, so for the first time he has to rely on his instincts, instincts that were forced into ignoring and mistrusting this sort of stimulus.
fadel simply wants. the comeback of what he thought his long, dead desire (bison is the only person he's convinced himself he needs!!) and those hardened, survival instincts are at odds, and the struggle to push that impulse away, to jerk off angrily in the hopes its flushed out of his system - oh fadel i love that you're so un-normal about this.
style sets the challenge in the pursuit of fadel for himself in a way. despite having almost no information and this probably being a slightly hyperbolic statement style has surmised the stakes of this mission much better than even kant has.
Tumblr media
style has him and im fairly certain style knows he has him...if he wants him. you've thrown your own gauntlet style so just how far are you going to go to meet that challenge?
146 notes · View notes
light-the-spark-of-dawn · 2 months ago
Text
Bruce Wayne being the owner of the Daily Planet is just about the only reason I can believe Clark Kent would still have a career as a news reporter. And to be clear, this isn't a joke about his salary (which would probably be decent anyway since he's a senior reporter), but rather a commentary on the compromised integrity of American journalism.
Consider the news surrounding the United Healthcare shooting. The murder of a healthcare company CEO was immediately met with universal public support for the killer. Pretty much everyone in America despises the predatory healthcare system so much that they celebrated Brian Thompson's getting gunned down in the streets of Manhattan as being well-deserved, in spite of major news media trying to paint the bastard as an innocent victim and family man
Literally, the best defense of Thompson's character that they could come up with was that he was a father, husband, and a successful CEO who expanded the company. None of the articles mention that he had been separated from his wife for years. They conveniently leave out that under his leadership, UHC was criticized by the American Hospital Association and used AI to automate claim denials, forcing thousands of people to go without medical care.
The dead are lionized all the time. But this was a man whose life's work was built off the suffering of others and had virtually no good deeds to speak of. And yet the narrative that news reporting is trying to push is that the public joy at his murder is "disturbing" and "ghoulish" and even "un-American" (genuinely the most tone-deaf take I've seen thus far).
And now that Luigi Mangione has been arrested as a suspect in the case, the news have shifted to dissecting his whole life and laying it bare for people to see. He's a well-read and intelligent guy who graduated from an Ivy League college. He's a 26 year old tech bro from a wealthy family and was the valedictorian of his private school. He wrote a review of the Unabomber's book and gave it 4 stars. He had a traumatic back surgery and afterward became depressed and withdrawn. He wrote a manifesto condemning corporate America. He played Among Us (the fact that a major news company published a whole ass article about this is both hilarious and depressing).
Whether Mangione was the killer or not, the media is airing out any and all details of his personal history. But most of the articles I've seen aren't trying to analyze what would have led to an otherwise normal guy to assassinate a healthcare CEO. Because it's obvious to anyone who knows anything about American healthcare. Instead it's all talk about how he was "yelling at the press" and not about what he was yelling ("This is completely unjust and an insult to the intelligence of the American people and their lived experience").
90% of American media is owned by 6 conglomerates. It's in their best interest to diminish sympathy for someone like Mangione, who spoke out against the corporate robber barons. It's in their best interest to make people think he's a radical nutjob, a privileged college snob, a violent right-winger- anything that makes him less relatable to the people who are supporting him. And it's working.
Already we're seeing people across the political spectrum getting hung up on whether Mangione is a hero or not because his cousin is a Republican, his family was wealthy, he was college-educated, he's a cis straight white male, etc. It's worth noting that he hasn't even been extradited from Pennsylvania to New York yet, much less been put on trial or found guilty. And even if he was, his identity is not the point.
We must stop looking at the trees and take a step back to see that the entire forest was planted to prevent us from seeing the palace behind it.
138 notes · View notes
heliianth · 3 months ago
Note
when you say that nanika is a reflection of killua’s “worst traits”, what do you mean by that exactly? :O
genuinely asking bc i’m super interested and curious !!
ok so.... while trying my hardest not to be reductive, Killua and Nanika occupy very similar social spaces. But before we can get there, I kind of want to lay down the groundwork first.
Here's Illumi (un)helpfully expositing Killua's self-image—the one he spends his entire arc desperately running away from—for us:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Killua's narrative has a lot to do with dehumanization and questions about nature—whether somebody can choose who they are or whether their circumstances decide for them, what makes a human being, all that juicy stuff. He's almost a soft launch for what the series forces us to consider later in the CAA, which is so rife with questions about instinct, nature, humanity, and evolution that trying to navigate its character web without running into a Killua foil is like trying to walk in the rain without getting wet.
Nanika is, like the ultimate escalation of this same thing—when it comes to Killua and questions of nature, she's the final boss. Nanika (or, our initial impression of her, what we are invited via framing to think first) is almost a manifestation—a literalization—of what Killua is scared of being.
I say that because, like... what is Nanika? What do other characters see her as?
Nonhuman
Extremely dangerous by nature
Valuable due to the services she can provide
Ostracized by both the Zoldyck family (Killua is singled out as the golden child) and the outside world—meaning, not entirely belonging to any defined social group, and unable to fully fit in
A dark counterpart to a comparatively sweet, bright, and innocent personality (Alluka)
Tumblr media
All 5 of these points hit very literally onto sore points of Killua's psyche. At least subconsciously, in some way, these are all things Killua thinks about himself; he recognizes them in Nanika because the way his family reacts to her is the way "outsiders" react to him. And he ends up dehumanizing her the exact way he dehumanizes himself—we know because he ends up unintentionally using Silva's words of being his son (positing Killua as an extension of himself, indicating similar mindsets) as an appeal during negotiations:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Some English translations don't even use Nanika because it literally means "something")
That's what I mean when I say they occupy similar social spaces, or are part of the same social group. And Killua treats her accordingly—as in, he projects:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(elaboration on that last example here)*
Killua even ends up projecting traits onto Nanika he isn’t self-aware enough to realize he has.
For example, Killua thinks of love as a very lopsided and conditional transaction in which, due to his negative social identity group, he needs to perform something adequately in order to earn. And he assumes Nanika thinks the same way:
Tumblr media
This aspect of the way Killua treats his sisters is consistently tricky for me to articulate because Killua doesn't end up treating her meanly or even think of Nanika poorly because of these projections—a lot of this is subconscious, Killua doesn't even realize he's doing it at first—which is what you might expect from someone who recognizes reasons for self-hatred in someone else.
I think this is simply because, at the end of the day, all of these negative assessments are still about himself—only about only his own emotions, his own internalized judgement. It’s not at all about Nanika. She's still a separate entity, someone in need of Killua's protection, so Killua can't hate her like he hates himself.
*In fact, Killua wants the best for her, wants people to love her as a part of Alluka which can be good, like he sees his own ugly traits. He even refuses to take advantage of her dangerous abilities, like he doesn’t want his own to be taken advantage of. Its projection of what he wants for himself onto Nanika—acceptance and love even if she is some Inhuman Dangerous Thing.
I can sort of infer this because Killua becomes confrontational with Illumi specifically when it comes to denying Nanika/Alluka personhood in a way he only does when Illumi is denying Killua personhood, which implies to me that Illumi doing it to Nanika/Alluka vicariously feels like another personal attack (which he can actually retaliate against now without that fuckass needle in his brain).
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And just in case you weren't convinced, we do know this is projection because Killua kind of just admits it (lol):
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I want to yap a little more about this but I'll put it under a readmore because it's kind of off topic. So if you just wanted answers for why I think Nanika is such a strong parallel to Killua, then you already have them lol
This scene (the one pictured above the readmore) sometimes cracks me up because of Killua’s reaction—the way he immediately slaps his cheeks and blames everything on Illumi. It’s a sort of comedic reaction to such a heartfelt (and extremely brave) ultimatum on Alluka’s end. I’ve seen some people think it’s just Killua wanting to defuse the argument, to get Alluka to listen to him so he can start to apologize correctly. But I don’t think that’s true, I think this reaction and the way he immediately brings up Illumi is a genuine realization on his end—after all, Illumi's name or presence is kind of a visual, verbal, and narrative shorthand for Killua's insecurities and the self-image he's clawing himself away from.
Up until now, Killua's never really thought about Alluka and Nanika as their own people, whether that be them separately or even just Alluka by herself. He never gave them real agency; not because he’s physically carrying them and not because he's not asking what they want, but because he’s just projecting that hard. Alluka is also tangled up in his feelings about his childhood (and Gon, as another facet of his projecting and also just as a consequence of the reason why he's rescuing them in the first place), and Nanika seemed to give her so much trouble—in the same way Killua’s own undesirable traits give him trouble—that I don’t think it literally ever occurred to him that Alluka could have a different opinion than he does.
I think Killua assumed Alluka would react to the news of Nanika needing to go away the same way he reacted to the news of him needing to leave Gon—with pained acceptance. That situation is a direct parallel to the dilemma of putting Nanika to sleep. But instead Alluka YELLS at him, and it forces him into realizing that his idea of his sister(s) was wrong. They aren’t the same person as him, his projection was unfounded, and he hurt them because of it.
Which is why he only realizes that his fear of Illumi was influencing the way he was acting then, because now he can actually look at them and see anything but his own reflection.
These pieces of dialogue: “I've been afraid of Illumi for so long... I got scared... and said some horrible things to you,” really do kind of say everything don’t they? He saw Nanika just like he sees himself, he wanted for her and thought about her this way for everything: both the good (wanting her to belong somewhere, to be safe) and the bad (the dehumanization, the deprioritization).
Killua can recognize that now, and apologize for doing that to her. For being a bad big brother.
Tumblr media
And not only does doing this help him actually empathize with Nanika and Alluka as people whose experiences are unique from his, but Alluka’s reaction also demonstrates to Killua a self-love that isn’t reliant on the outlier model established in the Hunter Exam by Illumi and reinforced by Killua throughout the CAA (particularly echoed in the "You are light" scene, in which he directly steals 眩しすぎて out of Illumi's mouth).
Tumblr media Tumblr media
As a side note, these two chapters are named Light and Darkness and Light and Shadow respectively—Gon being "light" (the novelty, the outlier) both times.
Alluka loves Nanika—her “darkness”—enough to cut off the outlier (Killua) if he doesn’t love her the same. Seeing someone he puts in the exact same ingroup as him so shamelessly love Nanika, in whom Killua recognizes things he hates about himself, actually gets through to him (whereas Gon’s previous affections couldn’t because he saw Gon as so fundamentally different).
It’s extremely important that Killua asks for this forgiveness. In the hospital, when he was talking to Gon through the window, we can see Killua knows the importance of apologies. He failed Gon, so saving him would be Killua’s apology. And Gon failed Killua too, so saying “sorry” would be his apology for that. It’s less about roles now, not about values or groups—less about Killua being useful and Gon being light—it’s more about actions.
For Alluka and Nanika, “big brother” was the role he felt guilty for not fulfilling—a catalyst for his projections onto them. Now he’s confronted with real proof of this failure and he doesn’t end up breaking over it like he might've before. Instead he apologizes because, due to Nanika, he knows Alluka loves unconditionally. And he trusts her, trusts her judgement of him, and trusts that he’s lovable enough to be accepted by her despite his failure.
Overall, I think it's really important that Nanika is introduced to the audience as a scary unknown, and that our first impression is slowly dissolved over time. It's a pervasive pattern in all the characters meant to ask questions of nature—Killua himself, the Chimera Ants, Palm, even the Phantom Troupe. Togashi is, like, deeply concerned with humanization and I think it's awesome because you get these narrative threads like the one with Nanika and Killua, where his doubts about himself and his own ability to love or be loved are narratively answered via giving or receiving compassion for/from someone else. In this way Hunter x Hunter tells us that proof of humanity is the capacity for connection. And isn't that something to think about?
98 notes · View notes
restwellsoon · 5 months ago
Text
SFW Romance ABCs | Uramichi Omota
Tumblr media
Minors, blank, and ageless blogs DNI! You will be blocked!
Pairing: Uramichi Omota x GN!Reader
Tumblr media
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Uramichi is actually quite affectionate from the get go when he feels safe with a partner. He likes to show his affection through acts of service, constantly doing things for his partner to make their day better. He’s also into hand holding and kissing in public. (Really, it’s because he wants to show his partner.)
He’s also the kind of guy to subtly brag about you, bringing up your name whenever fitting. He tends to abuse this at first. “Sorry, I have something planned with my partner!” and “Nah, can’t do it. My partner wouldn’t like that.” He doesn’t do it intentionally though. He simply wants to tell everyone that you two are together.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
A friendship with Uramichi would probably start because of forced proximity–whether it’s because of work, college, or shared hobbies. Although he gives off the vibes of someone who definitely doesn’t want to be there, let alone socialize, if you reach out to him first, he’ll take note of that and think of you more fondly. 
Befriending him is the same as befriending a stray. The poor man has had so many terrible experiences with humans, that it’s no surprise that he’s wary. If you show your intentions up front–and maybe bribe him with food or a genuine compliment–then you’ll most certainly be able to win him over.
As a friend, he’s the one you can can rely on–whether it’s helping you move or going to him for advice. (Un)fortunately, he’s not the kind to sugarcoat things, so he will give you a reality check if needed. Because he enjoys your company though, he’s learned to be mindful of his words and approach sensitive topics more gently. True friendships are very important to him.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Don’t let his personality fool you, Uramichi is 100% a cuddler. He likes to pull you into his arms and rest your head on his strong, firm chest, planting light kisses on the top of your head.
He won’t ask for it, but he’ll be absolutely delighted if you’re the big spoon, thus making him the little spoon. He likes the way your legs wrap around his and how you nuzzle your face into his neck from behind.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
He’s been alone for so long that he has his own cleaning and cooking routine. He doesn’t know how to cook any elaborate dishes, but he does have a couple of Uramichi specialties that are bomb.
Of course Uramichi wants to settle down! He’s been waiting for the right person. Unlike the typical and traditional view of a relationship and marriage, Uramichi sees marriage as a partnership and wants to keep the romance alive with his spouse. He looks forward to being a good husband and providing a nice home and life for you. Uramichi is a bit pessimistic though and keeps his expectations tempered about this happening.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He’s straight-forward and traditional in the sense that he’ll take you out first “as one last good memory” before dumping you in person. 
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
He has no issues with commitment. If anything, he tries to hide how ready he is to commit to someone so he doesn’t scare them off. Utano has told him in the past that this sort of intensity can be seen as a red flag.
Although he dreams of being a husband, it takes him a while to feel ready for that next step in life for a couple of reasons. One, he can’t believe he reached that milestone in life, and two, he wants to make sure you have similar goals in life since he only wants to get married once. (Nekota’s marriages have scarred him.)
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He comes off as brusque and serious to those who don’t know him well, but once you’ve gained his trust, he’ll treat you gently. He’s very attentive to your emotions.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He doesn’t like giving hugs unless it’s a very emotional situation, which he’ll do as a sign of reassurance. He also isn’t a fan of receiving hugs unless it’s from the little kids on the show or from the person he likes. Side hugs especially make him suspicious, since that’s what his bosses usually do when they ask him to work overtime.
With you though? Oh, he loves giving you hugs, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His hugs are very firm and warm. Uramichi really likes it when you cuddle into his chest. 
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He’s rather picky and cautious when it comes to partners, but when he finds the one, he’s smitten. He feels like he said I love you too quickly in his last relationship, so it takes him a while to tell you that he loves you (maybe 8 months to a year in). 
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He does feel jealousy quite often, but Uramichi understands that it comes from a place of insecurity for the most part rather than your behavior. Although he may feel pangs of jealousy immediately, he does his best to be rational before acting on it.
Uramichi may bring up the issue when you’re in private, but if something or someone is really driving him mad, he’ll whisper hotly in your ear that he’s jealous and can’t stand it. It doesn’t directly address whatever’s bothering him, but it does make you drag him away to somewhere more private where he can show you how jealous he is.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
You’re not sure if you’d categorize his kisses as awkward, shy, or both at first. His lips just press flatly against yours as if he’s already expecting to be rejected. When he knows that you feel the same way about him though, his kisses grow in fervent passion.
Of course he likes to kiss your lips, tangling his hand in your hair to press your mouth closer to his. He also likes kissing your neck, blowing ticklish raspberries on them.
Uramichi goes wild when you kiss along his collarbone and all over his chest.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Uramichi plays the big brother role very well. He excels in being goofy and fun but isn’t afraid to be firm with the children when they’re acting up. Even though the kids on the set often clown on him, they know he has a kind (but lonely!) heart deep down, which is why he’s so popular. It would probably bring him to tears if he knew that the kids see him as a protective and safe figure, someone that he wishes he had in his life as a child.
He secretly wants to be a father–despite his fears of failing like his own–so he doesn’t mind dealing with children with different personalities. He sees it as gaining experience for fatherhood. Being around kids absolutely drains him though.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
It’s not that Uramichi isn’t a morning person, he just hates waking up and knowing he has another horrid day to live.
Usahara mentioned that Uramichi has multiple alarms and hits the snooze button a lot. This is a bad habit he developed after he quit his career as a gymnast. Our boy was really going through it and sleeping in a lot. When he started to get his life together, he found it difficult to get back into his old routine of waking up immediately and working.
On his days off, he sets his alarm to 9 or 10 am, so his day isn’t completely wasted. His morning routine after washing up consists of stretching, a light jog, then a cig as a reward after. He’ll let you sleep then wake you up with cuddles in bed.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Uramichi is the type of guy that indulges in revenge bedtime procrastination (purposefully staying awake for decompression/”me time” activities at the behest of your sleep and rest). Long day working OT? Guess that means he’ll stay up till 2 am to make the most of his day. Naturally, he sets 3 extra alarms when he does this.
You’d think that this bad habit would improve once you get together, but it actually worsens. Since he had to spend 8+ hours at work without you, naturally he needs to stay up late to spend time with you. He’ll fight back yawns and “rest his eyes” several times before he finally lets himself fall asleep. The only way he’ll stop is if you sleep (actually sleep) together. He likes being able to cuddle and love on you throughout the night.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He’s surprisingly willing to open up about superficial things early on. However, he’ll slowly reveal his rough past, insecurities, and depression slowly and sporadically. He’s afraid of scaring you off.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He’s easily annoyed, but he finds his tolerance for things is much better after being around you. 
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Uramichi has a secret memo on his phone that has notes about your favorite things. He does his best to remember things about you, but he does forget sometimes. He also has a tendency to remember the things that you hate better than the things that you actually do like.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
When you tell him that you want to live together. Uramichi views this as the first step towards your future together.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He’s insanely protective, especially since he’s famous (though he wouldn’t dare admit that out loud). Uramichi doesn’t feel comfortable announcing your relationship publicly until he goes over potential issues that you may face: nosey reporters that want to know about that washed up gymnast Uramichi, weird mommy blogs that police everything their children engage with, and gossip columns. He’s willing to throw away his reputation and pride if it means protecting you.
Uramichi just wants someone to stand up for him (No, sit down, Usahara! Uramichi said that you don’t count!). He’d absolutely love it if you did something that healed or protected his inner child. I think allowing him to be vulnerable and reassuring him if he’s failed (or thinks he has) would make him feel safe. At the end of the day, he needs to know that he’s loved and that he has a home to come back to. 
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Maximum effort for everything, even if it burns him out. 
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Smoking and drinking are his biggest vices, though I can see him cutting down on that significantly once he’s in a happy relationship.
He can’t say no to the Together with Maman merch that Kikaku constantly throws at him. Even though the Kotori-san merch scares you both, the pile of plushies continues to grow in the spare closet. (You’re both afraid of being cursed if you donate them.)
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He’s not concerned about his looks at all. He thinks of himself as an average-looking guy (mommy blogs and sports columns beg to differ). 
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Well, he felt empty before he met you, so he figures he’d feel his usual normal if you’re gone. He thinks he’s actually having a health crisis if you two got into a big fight or separated.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Uramichi really likes it when you baby him and doing gross coupley things like feeding him food or wearing matching outfits. He’ll sigh and make a big show of how exhausting that is or how you’re both in public and can’t do that. Really though, he’s loving every minute of it. (The paps got some good shots of you two adding a padlock to a famous bridge known for giving couples eternal love.)
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He really dislikes people who are constantly tardy.
Uramichi also looks down on people who brag about their skills and can’t back it up. (Luckily he doesn’t have to deal with these types too often.)
One time, Utano set him up on a date with an acquaintance that reminded him of Kumatani. It was traumatizing. He doesn’t like it when his partners share too many similarities with his friends.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He’s a cuddler when he sleeps! (Which is the only reason why that lifesize Kotori-san and giant baguette are still in his bed.) It’s difficult to get out of his grip once he wraps his legs around you.
Tumblr media
Thanks to the @/the-coldest-goodbye for sharing this prompt.) 
Tumblr media
Return to
The Main Masterlist
Life Lessons Masterlist
AO3
85 notes · View notes
raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months ago
Note
¡Hello Miss Raven! Comentarte una teoría que tengo del evento de Halloween y es que la manera tan regida de actuar de Skully con respecto a la forma correcta de celebrar Halloween me recuerda mucho a la forma tan estricta que tenia (y aun tiene) Riddle de seguir la reglas, esto por que fue criado de esa forma y hasta entro en Overblot por ello, entonces mi teoría es... ¿Y si Skully paso por lo mismo? ¿Su familia lo obligaron a celebra así el Halloween y Skully es un niño traumado?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hello, uuum 💦 I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Spanish so I’ll have to respond in English. I think I still understand the gist of what you’re asking though, so no worries! (Thank you Vic for that 👍)
Shoutout goes out to my homie Hajime Hinata (of Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair) for the following full Spanish translation:
Tumblr media
I don't doubt that Skully will probably have some kind of traumatic backstory to explain his very intense devotion to Halloween and why he's so defensive about keeping the traditions of his hometown alive. However, I don't think it will be the exact same as Riddle's?? Skully tells us very early on that everyone in his hometown loves Halloween and Jack Skellington. I get the sense that his enjoyment is very genuine, not something forced upon him. Additionally, Skully speaks about dissenters very differently than Riddle, even if they both express a similar rage. Riddle demands that rules be followed for their own good; he thinks following the rules will benefit them. Skully wants people to celebrate Halloween his way because "well, that's just how it should be". Their reasoning is not exactly the same. When upset, Skully says he is disappointed in others and constantly stresses not being "understood". This, combined with him being uncomfortable talking about his school life, admitting that not many people understand him, and talking down to his peers, makes me suspect some degree of bullying and ostracization for his interests and/or beliefs.
There might be similar elements as another character's backstory perhaps? After all, Idia and Rollo are both older brothers who are both coping with the loss of their younger brothers in unhealthy but different ways. It's possible that Skully will be like that too. There's only so many traumatic elements Twst can work with before they have to repeat some, but just put a different spin on it.
72 notes · View notes
apollos-olives · 1 year ago
Note
hey, so, someone linked me this article, to "prove" to me that i should "condemn hamas". as a non-palestinian i was told there is no way i can refute this, since it comes from a gazan. i was wondering if, as a journalist and a palestinian, you would mind writing a rebuttal that i could show to people? if you have the time and energy.
https://www.newsweek.com/hamass-western-apologists-have-become-hamas-enthusiasts-gazan-im-horrified-opinion-1849228
okay sure let's go through this together
first thing i urge you is to be weary about propaganda. this person may be getting paid, blackmailed, or just genuinely might be brainwashed, in order to write this.
second is that this article might genuinely be this persons opinion 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ and if it is, i urge you to come and analyze it with me in order to point out it's faults
third, let me say that NO ONE is forced to support hamas as an entirety. but as this person's article states, he is against hamas even as a freedom fighter group, so i'm gonna walk you through some of his bullshit okay :)
one thing i noticed is that there is a LOT of propaganda that was debunked in the past that is still being used in this article
Tumblr media
the actual number of "civilians" killed was 900, most of which were actually killed by the iof as they shot at their own "civilians" and soliders. so the author of this article may not be as educated as he might make you think he is.
he's saying that the attack on oct 7 wasn't a "legitimate armed resistance to occupation" but it literally was. there are like a billion un resolutions that state that armed resistance against an occupier is allowed. hamas has every right to fight back against israel. and what? you think armed resistance isn't going to get messy??? of course it will. it is already messy. people are going to die no matter what. that is how you fight against your oppressor. people will die. that's the whole "armed resistance" part. this person is utterly ignorant if he thinks that we can free palestine by a few peaceful protests (which i will come back to soon!)
and yeah what is wrong with "contextualizing" the attack by telling people that gazans are living in a concentration camp?? because they are. and they have every right to fight back. hamas wasn't the only one who was resisting that day, and more than one palestinian resistance group were there as well. condemning only hamas for this shit is idiotic and honestly grouping ALL palestinians, even ones who were not part of hamas, as hamas is... well do i gotta say it? racist.
this author is using a lot of words like "horrific nature" ...... palestinians who fight against their oppressors have a "horrific nature" ???? doesn't that sound... racist to you? and what "numbers" are involved ???? 900 "civilians" that were killed by their own army???? yeah. what massive numbers that hamas killed ooohhhhhh 😰😰
Tumblr media
bruhhh this shit sounds like the whole "hamas is their new fandom" bullshit 💀💀💀 also where is he seeing this stuff???? how are bulldozers, paragliders, and motorcycles showing support to hamas?????? maybe they're just people who support palestine in general and mean to use them as symbols of resistance. mocking the "underprivileged fight back" hmmmm that sure sounds so inclusive and supportive of you mister palestinian author!!
Tumblr media
this guy brings up international law when LITERALLY THAT IS THE WHOLE POINT. BY INTERNATIONAL LAW HAMAS AND OTHER PALESTINIANS ARE ALLOWED TO FIGHT BACK AGAINST THEIR OPPRESSORS. BY "ALL MEANS NECESSARY" - ughhh this is exhausting. and the fact that they call hamas enthusiasts (💀) "inhumane" ... wowwww what happened to the whole "stop dehumanizing poc and the oppressed" ???? this guy is a fucking weirdo.
and again with the "civilians" dude seriously???? israeli civilians are illegal settlers. there are no innocent israelis except for the children, and any harm that may come to the children should put the parents to be held accountable for bringing/settling their child into a land that isn't theirs anyway.
Tumblr media
why would you equate being jewish with israel?? yeah a lot of israelis are jewish but pro-palestine jews have repeatedly told us that we should not and must not equate judaism and israel together, and that doing that is antisemitic because it's equating judaism as a supporter of genocide.
and why are you, as a palestinian, calling what's happening in palestine a "conflict" ??? even after years and years of palestinians begging for people to stop seeing it and calling it a conflict and name it for what it is, systematic ethnic cleansing and genocide ?? this guy's wording is ridiculous and so full of that "both sides" liberalism shit it's so exhausting.
Tumblr media
wow we love the blatant propaganda. you could tell that the hostages were comfortable enough to wave or handshake the members who released them. they were smiling, no one was forcing them to do that. no one was threatening them harm. many family members have spoken out and have told the media that hamas has treated the hostages well, even if the conditions weren't very glorious.
and AGAIN with the whole "women and children" as if men weren't victims too. you are trying to push for the safety of israelis but disregard the men ???? hm
Tumblr media
wow calling palestinians terrorists that's totally not racist at all!!!!
Tumblr media
ohhh my god how many times do we have to say that peaceful protests DO NOT WORK !!! no one is listening to us. we've TRIED peacefully protesting. gazans tried peacefully protesting a few years back and HUNDREDS got killed and THOUSANDS got injured!!!! peaceful protesting isn't going to work alone. we need action!! we need to start fighting back!!! we need to make a difference!! palestinians have been begging for people to do this for years now!!!
Tumblr media
what "slogans" ????? "from the river to the sea" ???? is that a dangerous slogan, mister palestinian author ?????? don't make me laugh.
and there is a FINE line between anti zionism and antisemitism. yes a lot of zionists are jews but also a lot of christian zionists are antisemites as well. we are allowed to call out and fight anti zionism without being antisemitic. but i guess you would know SO much about that huh, mister palestinian author.
Tumblr media
wow what a totally normal thing to say!!! linking palestinians to their constant suffering under the occupation and linking them to be forever tied to their oppressors. "millions of jews will forever be part of the land" YES !!! PALESTINIAN JEWS !!! WHO WERE FOREVER PART OF THE LAND !!!!
ok that's all for the screenshots but i DO want to mention that not once did this guy say ANYTHING about how hamas was bad for gaza. he did not say anything or show any proof about gazans suffering under hamas' rule, and only talked about the "poor israelis" ☹️☹️☹️ who were huwt becawse they wewe illegal settlews on a land that's not theiw's :((((((
this guy was probably paid or blackmailed or something. or just brainwashed.
many palestinians ARE anti hamas as a whole. but we DO support their fight for our freedom.
i hope this helps. keep these arguments in mind next time you're reading an article.
259 notes · View notes
knyontop · 11 months ago
Note
Hiii!! I really love your works they’re really awesome and they bring me comfort! I wanted to ask if it was ok to do some Platonic Yandere Creepypasta x Teen Reader who’s like extremely traumatized and shy and untrusting but in secret they’re kind and caring and just wants love and to be babied. :33
Tumblr media
₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊
OFC MLLLL
Platonic!Yandere!Creepypastas x teen!reader
Ft: Jeff the killer, Slenderman, Ben drowned, and our amazing, beautiful, handsome, reader
Tw: Blood, gore, forced affection, abuse, murder, cussing, manipulation, possessiveness, jeff is a whole warning himself😭😭
Jeff:
・when he first meet you, your un-trusting nature made him amused, he likes when people are nervous and timid about him.
・he would poke fun at you and spook you, he loved seeing people cower below him. It feed his huge ego.
・tho your shy nature made him feel protective over you.
・he didn’t know why, he just felt as if he had no NEEDED to shield you from the worlds wrath.
・He would follow you around and you didn’t know why, the more he was around you tho the more you opened up to him.
・When Jeff actually started to get to know you he started getting more and more possessive. Like an overbearing
Older brother.
・Jeff would start to isolate you and keep you away from the others, the only person he would really let you see besides him is slender and Ben, and a little bit of Lui.
・He would try to make you hate the people he hated. (Cough cough, Jane.)
・He wanted you to rely on him and ONLY HIM. HE IS ALL YOU WILL NEED WHY DONT YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND THAT??
・You needed him, you were to naïve and shy, and weak. You needed someone to protect you and help you, and that someone is him.
・Its okay that you didn’t understand that yet, dont worry, Big brother Jeff will take care of it!
“Dont worry kid, your big brother jeff will handle it.”
・He will hug you while having a knife at your back telling you to not leave him, he also threatens you to keep your little mouth shut. Cant have Slender knowing can we
・Jeff will manipulate you to think all of this is normal and this is what siblings do. (Its not)
・He likes to bring you with him on missions and make you watch him kill his victims brutally as a punishment, he says its just discipline and your being overdramatic about it. Plus you also kill people dont you?
・When you call him a monster he will then turn it around on you because you do the same thing he does, your both the same. Your both monsters.
・Jeff has noticed that you just melt into his arms even if you dont like it or not and he will mock you and tease you for it.
“Look at you, such a dumb little thing. You just fall into my arms. Your so naïve, so its a good thing you have me!”
・Just dont be a brat and obey him! Its that simple, right?
“Your such a brat, you should be grateful that I even bother hanging out with you.”
・He will tell Ben to make sure you keep your mouth shut and make sure your being a good little kid, Ben doesn’t complain because Jeffs his best friend and your just another pitiful human being that happened to step into the Slender mansion.
“Look kid, just listen to jeff. Theres nothing you can really do now is there?”
・Ben does feel bad, but hes a very sadistic being.
・If you piss of Jeff enough he will kill someone in your old life you cared deeply about, he will make you watch the blood splatter everywhere, he will make you watch him stab there chest repeatedly, he will make you watch the guts fly everywhere.
・The funny thing is Jeff knows that this is wrong but he just doesn’t give a fuck.
・It all goes to far when he breaks you and you have a full on mental breakdown, thats when he actually feels genuinely bad. <3
₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊
I had fun writing this🎀
160 notes · View notes
fandomwriterstuff · 4 months ago
Text
Betty
Remus Lupin x Reader, Remus Lupin x Sirius Black, Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Reader (fem reader)
Words: ~4.5k
Loosely inspired by Betty by Taylor Swift
Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, hurt/comfort, established relationship, mentions of unforgivable curses, non-explicit and vague mentions of sex, no use of y/n
Loving Remus was as easy as breathing, and felt just as imperative. 
You’d hooked up sixth year at a party, the both of you admittedly trying to get over your feelings for Sirius Black. What fell into place after that party was a relationship that was full of soft touches, kisses on foreheads, and study dates. Being with Remus gave you a warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach, something akin to having a warm bowl of soup on a cold wintry evening. He was comforting, and even though he was a member of the dashing and mischievous Marauders, and despite his lycanthropy, he stayed soft. He was consistent. He was your everything. 
“I hate to be the one to tell you this,” you barely even heard Regulus over the dull roar that was Hogwarts on day one of a new year. You sat with your house, your green tie neatly twisted into a pretty knot at your throat. Your fingers were tied in less-pretty knots, white-knuckled and clammy in your lap as you searched for your tall boyfriend. He was usually easy to spot, and you were worried when he hadn’t responded to your last two letters over the summer. 
“Sorry, what?” You turned towards your favorite Black brother, a concerned frown marring his usually unchanging, flat demeanor. He’d left his family this last summer and joined his brother at the Potter’s home, and he spent many pages writing to you about his annoying but growing feelings for James, and his confusing and mixed feelings on being in tight quarters with his brother again. A tiny part of your heart cracked and whimpered at mentions of Sirius, your first love and someone who you, despite all efforts, couldn’t get off your mind. 
You were very happy with Remus, and would never jeopardize what you had with him. You’d be lying though if you said you’d never thought about Sirius in a less-than-platonic way before. 
You shook the thoughts off and turned your attention to Regulus.
“I saw Remus this summer,” he started, gently. You thought it was rather unlike him to intentionally avoid what he was trying to say, and were immediately on edge. 
“Yes, he often spends time at the Potter’s,” you tilted your head a touch to the side, indicating that he should get on with his point. 
“He spent the summer with my brother,”
Again, an obvious observation. 
“Yes, they are best friends,” you frowned, not sure where he was going. In your peripheral you saw Barty and Evan alight upon the benches across the table from you, and as you turned to greet them, Regulus blurted it out in a rather un-Regulus-like way. 
“He spent the summer fucking my brother.” 
Your mouth opened, but you weren’t sure what to say. Nothing would come out. You felt like a grindylow was tearing your heart up with its little clawed hands. You were aware of Barty and Evan watching you very carefully, and although you were known in Slytherin as a very kind and outspoken person, the only thing that you could force out of your mouth was a whimpered “What?”
“I’ll kill him.” You weren’t sure if it was Barty or Evan who declared their intentions to tear your boyfriend limb from limb because at that very moment the four Marauders walked into the great hall and meandered over to the Gryffindor table without a single look towards you. 
“I’m sorry,” Regulus looked genuinely dismayed to have put the look of dread and hopelessness on your face, but all you could think of was that it was your seventh year and you were supposed to spend it with Remus. You were supposed to see him in class every morning, first thing. 
The very first thing you did after discreetly making your way out of the great hall was cry in the girls bathroom for about thirty minutes before you figured out a plan. The second thing you did was beg your head of house to switch you from Potions to the only other class available at the time, Defense Against the Dark Arts. 
“It’s awfully late to be making this kind of change to your curriculum, but you’ve never caused me any issues before and you made excellent marks in all of last year’s classes,” he’d raised an eyebrow at you, looking down at his notes before nodding. “You better hurry, class starts soon.”
The first day of classes went by in a blur, you skipped lunch to gather supplies for your Defense class and return your potions textbook. It was dinner when things started to go awry. 
You were staring down at your empty plate, having been on autopilot all day until you had a moment to relax. When you looked into your lap, avoiding the burning urge to look over at Gryffindor table, you saw the red crescent-shaped indentations in your palms. You didn’t feel the pain of them until you saw them though, and realized you must have been clenching your fists as hard as you’d been clenching your jaw. You forced both to relax and took a deep breath, ready to engage with your friends when a shadow was cast over Regulus, who was seated next to you as usual. 
Regulus raised a disdainful eyebrow at your visitor, and you thought you were very lucky the dynamic duo were off fucking and too busy to kill Remus for daring to come speak to you. 
“Hey, love. Haven’t seen you all day, I thought we had potions together?” He phrased it like a question, and you didn’t turn to look at him. You didn’t think you could do it, even to ask him if it was true. If he’d slept with Sirius. 
“I’m not taking potions,” you replied, eyes glued on your empty plate. You wished there was food on it so you could at least pretend to be busy. 
Alas, Remus sat in the empty spot on your other side and attempted to make eye contact. 
“Is something wrong? Have I done something to upset you?”
“I don’t know, Remus,” you looked up then, calling on the thorny rage and ebbing sadness you felt to give your boyfriend the coldest stare you could. “Have you?”
He looked over your shoulder a moment, and you didn’t know what he saw in Regulus’ face, but his pallor turned to an awful shade of sun-bleached parchment. 
“I thought we could talk privately, maybe?” You felt all of that swirling emotion drain out of you at the pleading look in his eyes. You might be cross, but you still loved him. 
“Yeah, we can do that. Come on.”
You found yourself in an empty classroom, one the two of you had definitely hooked up in before under much more amorous circumstances. 
“Explain,” you appreciated that he wasn’t trying to reach out to touch you. He always was the more emotionally capable of the two of you, and he could read your needs like a book. 
“I wish I could have told you myself instead of you hearing it secondhand... You knew how I felt about Sirius,” he started, trying to catch your eye, but you steadfastly stared at your shiny black shoes. “I guess those feelings never went away.” There was a pause and you realized he was waiting for you.
“That’s it? Your feelings never went away? That’s all you have to say?” You were bouncing between numbness and a shaking, burning hot rage. “Neither did mine, but you don’t see me going to find him and have my wicked way!” Your voice was a bit louder than you planned, but fuck it. He’d cheated on you. “I can’t believe you. And you didn’t even apologize, Merlin,” you shook your head, drawing your hand over your face. “I trusted you.”
Your last words hit him like a brick, and he had the audacity to look wounded. 
“He has feelings for you, we talked a lot this summer. I thought maybe when we got back to Hogwarts we could talk about this and maybe we could all get what we wanted but then Regulus came to the Potter’s looking like he’d nearly died and Sirius was in shambles and…” he trailed off. “I know I did things the wrong way, and I am sorry.”
“So you’re telling me that you and I both have feelings for him, and he has feelings for both of us, and instead of writing me back like a normal person, you fucked him?” He flinched, and you almost felt bad. Almost. 
“I’m sorry. It only happened a few times, I told him I wanted to talk to you, and he agreed. We haven’t… We wanted to talk to you together.”
You scoffed a dark laugh. 
“Usually it’s the established couple inviting someone into a threesome, not one member of the established couple and his best friend with benefits,” you spat the words at him, and finally looked up at him. “You really know how to screw up a good thing.” For the first time, he looked frightened .
“Please, just talk to me, let me fix this. I can’t lose you,” He was backpedaling so fast, and you stood from the desk you were sitting on. 
“It’s over, Remus.” You walked towards the door and ignored his pleas for you to stay and listen, even though walking away from the one safe and consistent person in your life felt like swimming towards the surface when you had lead boots on.
The worst thing that I ever did
Was what I did to you
The next few weeks were full of Remus trying to find you, but you had very cunning and sneaky friends, and they helped you hide while you cradled and healed your broken heart. In fact, they were so good at making sure Remus didn’t get to you, that you were left alone in the Slytherin common room when you heard the door open and footsteps approach. Footsteps you didn’t recognize.
You figured it was just a first year or something, you had been preoccupied recently and hadn’t engaged with many of the new students. However, this person sat next to you. You peeked your eyes over the top of your book to see a head of long, shiny black hair and those eyes you’d dreamt of too many times. 
“You look beautiful when you’re angry, did you know that?” He offered you a smile, but not one of his usual charming ones. This one was more tentative, fragile. 
“I don’t have time for you,” you muttered and turned back to your book. Your Defense class was difficult, it had never been your forte. 
“I just want to talk,” he kicked his boots off and tucked his feet under him. 
“You look like you expect to be here for a while,” you raised an eyebrow, only glancing at him for a moment. “Shame.”
“You can’t shut me out. You’re not nearly as good at it as my brother,” he leaned forward and tilted your book away from your face. “At least let me apologize.”
You settled your bookmark into the old tome and set it on the ground. He was right, Regulus was way better at this. You were in your pajamas and feeling awfully vulnerable, and crossed your arms over your chest. 
“I’m sorry. I was… Distraught… When my brother came to James’ place and looked like he’d been crucio’d within an inch of his life,” Sirius’ face took on a faraway look, and you swallowed thickly. “I was seeking comfort, and Remus provided that for me. It only happened twice, and he told me it couldn’t happen again. He insisted we talk to you, tell you what had happened and explain,” here, Sirius looked down. “I was always jealous, you know. Of Remus for snagging you when I was still a reckless, no-good mess. I didn’t stand a chance. And also of you, you didn’t have the barriers I had with Remus. You didn’t have to be afraid of ruining your friendship with him, Peter, and James.” He sighed and made eye contact again with you. “I know what it’s like to only put your trust in a small circle of people, and I know what it’s like to have one of those people break your trust. I never wanted to be someone who hurt you, and neither did Remus.”
You pursed your lips and fought back the stinging in your eyes. 
“Why couldn’t you have just talked to me?” You were losing the battle against your tears. 
“I’ve never been good with words,” he murmured, and reached out his hand to you, not touching you, but offering you comfort. It had been weeks since you’d spoken to anyone who was willing to offer you comfort. There was only so much your emotionally-stunted friends could give you. So you took his hand. You let him pull you close, hugging you tightly as if he could hold you together as you unraveled. 
Your tears dried up after some time and you were left a sniffling mess on Sirius’ chest. 
“I can tell him to give you space, if you’d like,” he finally whispered, as if he didn’t want to break the fragile peace you had. 
“I don’t want space. I miss him,” you responded. “It hurts so much because I just want to forgive him and get a good cuddle and cry a bit. He’s the only person I feel safe with who I know won’t ever judge me,” you rubbed your eyes. Sometime while the tears were falling, Sirius had drawn a blanket over your lower half, a gesture you were thankful for, as your pajamas were not well-suited to the cold dungeon. 
“You can always talk to me, I can’t say I’m as calm or comforting as Remus. But I’m a good listener, and I give good hugs.” You tightened your grip on the older Black brother. 
“You do give good hugs,” you mumbled, eyes closed against the world. 
“How about this,” Sirius breath puffed into your hair, and you were so comfortable and exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster that you could feel yourself getting close to drifting off. “I can tell Remus to give you a tiny bit of space. You let me tutor you in Defense Against the Dark Arts. And maybe we could hang out, you and me? And maybe Remus?” You cracked an eye open to look at him skeptically. “I promise, I’m really good at defensive spells. And maybe we could all do a little self-care and healing together.”
You paused to think about it. “I could do that.”
“What’s this? Are you torturing my best friend more?” You didn’t hear the common room door opening, but luckily it was just Barty and not the lot of them. Unluckily, he didn’t sound to be in his usual chaotic and joyous mood.
“Stand down, Bee,” you sighed and untangled yourself from your embrace. “We’re having a heart to heart here, can’t you see?” You turned away from Sirius’ curiously pink cheeks and towards Barty’s tense figure, standing and straightening your night clothes. 
“As long as he doesn’t undo all the work we did to mend that heart,” he muttered pointedly and came a step closer. “You’re on thin ice, Black.” And with that, he disappeared into the dark hallway towards the boys dormitory. 
“Isn’t he usually a bit more manic?” Sirius inquired, following your lead and standing before lacing his boots back up. 
“He’s had a long few weeks of distract-Remus duty,” you muttered sheepishly. You only received a chuckle in response. 
“Your friends must love you to spend so much time diverting his efforts to get you back,” this time it was you blushing as you gently walked Sirius towards the exit. 
“They’re messy but I love them.” You looked at Sirius and gave him a slight smile. “Thanks for finding me.”
“You’re not going to be thanking me when I won’t get out of your hair,” he turned up the charm and flicked his hair over his shoulder. “Tomorrow after class, meet me in the library to study?”
You nodded, and after he left the common room you climbed into bed and sighed dreamily. You almost forgot what it was like to be swept up in someone’s affection. It made you miss Remus, and you fell asleep thinking about him. 
The next few days you sat with Sirius in your Defense class, and although he didn’t have to take notes because he had a natural proclivity for defensive spells, he did give you tips on your technique that you dutifully inked onto your note paper. 
You were in the library with him that Friday after class when he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, a cute nervous tick you noticed he had. It was subtle but you’d spent a lot of time looking at him over the years. 
“I’ve spoken to Remus about my intentions,” he finally said, which was enough to distract you from your essay. You wanted to finish it before the weekend so you could relax with your friends. 
“And what are your intentions, Sirius?” You wondered, and he broke into a smile. 
“To make you fall in love with me of course,” you huffed and rolled your eyes at him. 
“It’s not going to be hard, my friends had to give me an intervention in fourth year so I would stop talking about you.”
“In that case,” he was smiling still, and you were glad to have the camaraderie. “My intentions are also to help you talk to Remus.”
You didn’t tense up, per se, as one would have expected. Instead, your shoulders sagged and you let your eyes fall to your paper. 
“I want to talk to him but I just get this feeling when I think about him. I want to crawl into his arms but then I get so mad at myself for caving so easily. And then I get mad at him for making me feel such sharp-edged emotions.” You huffed a breath and frowned. “I just need him to agree to have angry makeup sex with me.” 
Sirius let out an incredulous, breathless chuckle at that. 
“Well if that’s what will help, I’m sure he will be more than amenable,” Sirius was grinning toothily from across the table. 
“You think so?” You peeked up from below your eyebrows and found your study partner nodding vehemently. 
“Honesty is the best policy. Just tell him exactly what you told me: that you miss him dearly, and you’ve done a lot of healing, but you have some unresolved anger and tension you want to get out with him by means of makeup sex.”  
“It sounds very easy when you say it like that,” you pondered it for a moment. “Alright. I’m going to get our man, and then I’m coming for you, Sirius Black,” you grinned down at him as you stood from the table, and to him it looked rather feline. The cat was finally going to get the cream. Except you had been waiting to kiss Sirius for years, and it was all finally coming together. 
Finding Remus was easy enough. You found Barty in the dungeons and he directed you to the astronomy tower, where Remus could be found doing his homework. You were informed that in an effort to give you space, he was avoiding the library. 
He didn’t look pitiful, which you were grateful for. He looked normal: hair tousled and soft-looking, the torchlight making his scars reflect a little, and eyes fixed on you as you made your way over to him.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was softer than ever, as if he didn’t want to scare you away. 
“I came to a realization,” you perched next to him, knees touching. 
“Did you now?” 
“I did. The realization I’ve come to is that you hurt me, and I forgive you,” he inhaled sharply, catching your eye as you gave him an apologetic smile. “The issue I’ve encountered is that I have some… let’s call it unresolved tension. I want to date you, Remus. And Sirius, too, naturally,” you rolled your eyes. “He wormed his way into my good graces. But I can’t enter a relationship in good faith if I’m feeling all of this pent up anger and tension.”
“So, what do we do about this unresolved tension and anger?” He asked you, so genuinely and sweetly that you almost felt bad about what you were going to ask. 
“I want to have makeup sex, I think it will make me feel better and make me feel close to you,” you paused, waiting for him to nod in understanding. “I want you to fuck me, Remus.”
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” He asked, though he was already leaning closer to you, and you knew you’d convinced him. Sirius was right, honesty was the best policy. 
“I’m sure,” you barely had a moment to breathe before he was on you, lips burning blazing trails from your lips to your throat and sucking on the tender skin he found at the junction of your shoulder. 
“Where do you want to go?” He asked between his kisses and your heavy breaths. 
“Can we go to your room?” You nearly begged. “Sirius said he’d distract Peter and James.”
Remus pressed a searing kiss to your lips once more. 
“I don’t know whether to love that you’re scheming with him, or fear it,” he chuckled before helping you up and leading you down the stairs by your hand. 
“I think you should love it, I was wallowing in self pity because I was angry and wanted you to fuck me senseless, and he convinced me to just be honest with you.”
“I’ll thank him later,” He was chuckling, joyous as the two of you made your way to the Gryffindor common room with haste. 
After he muttered the password and drew you through the common room and up into his shared room, he cast a silencing charm on the room and helped you onto his bed. 
Remus was secretly possessive of you, which you thought might surprise many who didn’t know him very well. And this time was no different. His languid exploration of your body kept you on the edge of pleasure as he sucked marks into your skin, your breathy moans of his name causing his eyes to darken. Remus was a generous lover, and you came twice before he finally fucked you, moaning into the room as he rather tenderly brushed a thumb across your sweaty forehead. 
“You’re doing so good for me, love,” his voice was like a balm to your soul, and in any other circumstances the whine you emitted when he drove into you next would have embarrassed you. As it was, it must have turned him on more because moments later he was pounding into you, your muscles clenching and eyes rolling back as ecstasy crashed over you. 
You opened your eyes some time later to find yourself freshly wiped down of any and all fluids, Remus’ arms wrapped around you in his bed. 
“Hey, sleeping beauty. You doing okay?” You nuzzled your face into his neck and mumbled a quiet “Yes.” Perhaps he sensed the hesitance in your voice, or felt the tension crawling back into your frame.
“Are you sure? Is there anything I could do to make you more comfortable?” Using what little strength you had left after the exertion, you pressed up onto your elbows to look down at him. 
“Do you think Sirius would like to come cuddle?” Remus blinked once, perhaps surprised, before a slow and gentle smile brightened his features. 
“I’m sure he would, would you like me to go find him?” You nodded your agreement, although it did mean Remus had to disentangle his limbs from yours. “I’ll be back soon, dove.” With gentle hands, he pulled his sheets up to your shoulders and you found yourself drifting off again, the warm woodsy scent you associated with Remus surrounding you. 
“Hey, beautiful,” fingers stroked over your bare shoulder, and you blinked against the light of the room to see Sirius sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“You were right,” your voice was scratchy as you turned beneath the covers to face the raven-haired boy. 
“Oh, was I? And what was I right about this time?” He was grinning, and you noticed a pile of messily folded clothes next to him. 
“Honesty is the best policy.” You shot him a toothy grin, and he chuckled. 
“Told you so,” he replied, and stood. “Moony’s almost done cleaning up, and he said you might want a bath, too.” He gestured to the pile of clothes, which you now noticed lay atop a towel. “I wasn’t about to brave the Slytherin dungeons, so you’re welcome to borrow some of my clothes.” Bashful was a look you hadn’t seen on him before, and you wanted to savor it. 
“You’re very thoughtful,” you breathed the words, sitting up and holding the sheet with one arm to cover yourself. “Thank you.” The blush on his pale cheeks grew, and you reveled in it. 
“I’ll just… Wait over on my bed,” a crooked smile was sent your way and he did as he said, closing the curtains to give you privacy. 
Once clean, you returned to the boys’ room to find Sirius and Remus sitting on their respective beds across from each other talking about the next quidditch match. You cleared your throat in the doorway, Sirius’ black pajama t-shirt and boxers covering your modesty as you shuffled in. 
“Don’t you look adorable,” Remus cooed at you, pulling you towards him by the hips and into his lap. 
“Come here,” you cut your eyes to Sirius, who’s glazed over eyes (you supposed seeing you in his clothes had done something for him) snapped to your face as he hurried over. “I know we all have a lot to talk about,” you scooted off Remus and onto the bed as you spoke. “But I would really like to cuddle right now, if that’s alright.” You held out a hand to Sirius, who was still standing, and pulled him down to lay with you and Remus. It was a tight fit, but you felt warm and loved and sleepy. 
With both their arms around you, and feeling better than you had in weeks, your eyes drifted closed and you were able to rest peacefully. 
That is, until James and Peter came back. 
You didn’t move when you heard the sharp inhale. 
“Pay up,” Pete’s voice was quiet, and you heard a metallic jingling as James reached into his pocket and dropped a few coins into Peter’s waiting hand. 
“You were betting on what, exactly?” You grumbled, leaning up on one elbow to level a glare at the two Gryffindors. 
“James thought it would take you another month to forgive Remus,” Peter replied. “I bet that it would be within a week of Sirius’ meddling.” He grinned at you. “I also get an extra five galleons because I told him we’d find the three of you together.”
“Sod off,” Sirius grumbled at them, pulling you back down into his arms. A giggle bubbled up out of your throat at the friends’ antics. Things weren’t quite back to normal, but you thought this series of events was even better than what you could have anticipated.
Masterlist
64 notes · View notes