#and while I tend to agree with that read it really did seem to be progressing in that direction
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vashtijoy · 11 hours ago
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Extremely random thought but do you think that cringy fanfictions written by preteens who then grew up to be embarassed adults would have never existed in the Marukiverse, considering how that art student who was in a slump was forcibly pivoted to archery instead?
wow, goddamn. I guess you could take it either way, couldn't you? Maruki does seem to think that struggling against the odds isn't worth it, and that depression and discouragement are best treated by giving up.
I do tend to think that Maruki is able to tell what people truly want, to somehow divine it out of their heads, even before 12/24—just because all of the kids get something they really want, even when it's not necessarily obvious. Maruki makes some startling judgements there, but the PTs all seem to agree that they were genuine temptations.
So my reading would tend be that Yusuke's artist friend really did think he might have been happier as an archer, and really did believe there was no hope for him in art—but, just as the PTs all turn down their wishes that they desperately want, Yusuke's friend has chosen not to switch paths, and to stick with his painting despite his slump. Until Maruki happens to him, at any rate.
What I think is more likely is that people who want to write would still write. They just wouldn't ever feel discouraged, or down. They wouldn't go through that phase of realising all their work is cringe. And of course, because Maruki's reality has no pain or challenge or complexity, nobody would ever write anything worth reading.
Which brings me to....
deleted text chat
While I was checking the archery chat, I ran into this deleted chat all about conflicting wishes, and how the very thoughts in people's heads, their ability to feel negative emotions at all, will likely be erased. It's unsettling reading, and confirms a number of theories that go around about what life in Maruki's reality would really have been like, and how he'd likely handle conflicts.
It's SCRIPTCHAT_282, and since it didn't make it into the English localisation, it will have been cut in very early dev. Look out for Akechi chiming in when Ann talks about wishing to get rid of people they don't want around.
Futaba 正月のこと覚えてるか? Do you guys remember New Year? Ryuji そりゃもちろん 嫌でも忘れねーよ… Course we do. There’s no way we could forget that. Futaba わたしのおかーさんいただろ? 春もおとーさんいたよな? My mom was there, right? And Haru’s dad was there too, right? Haru え、うん いたけど… Uh, yes. I suppose so... Makoto なにかあった? Did something happen? Futaba ちょっと考えてたんだ I was thinking. Futaba 死んじゃった人に会いたいって 思ったら生き返ってたじゃん? If we think about wanting dead people back, they come back to life, right? Futaba んじゃその逆は? って So does it work the other way around? Sumire 逆…ですか The… other way around? Ann いなくなってほしい人に 消えろって願ったら… If we wish for people to disappear, who we don’t want around… Ann ってこと? Is that what you mean? Futaba そ! Yeah! Akechi なかなか面白い考えだね 、どう思う? That’s quite an interesting thought. Ren, what do you make of it? [Joker] 消える気がする I feel like disappearing myself. [Joker] 考え方が変わる It’s changed my perspective. Yusuke だが、誰かが生きてほしいと 願ったらどうなるんだ But then, what would happen if somebody else wished they were still alive? Sumire 一度消えて また現れるんですかね… They’d die, and then reappear again, wouldn’t they..? Ryuji 忙しいな Busy day. Akechi そういう考え自体 が 消えてしまうんじゃないかな You know, even thoughts such as these may die out in the end. Yusuke 自分のか? You mean our own thoughts? Sumire そういうこと考えなくなる ってことですね Do you mean we just wouldn’t think such things any more? Akechi 僕も同意見だな 思考自体を消されると思うよ It does seem likely. I’m afraid thought itself will be erased. Futaba あーなるほど Huh. I see. Haru 負の感情を抱かなくなるのかぁ… So… so we won’t be able to feel bad things any more..? Ann 平和になりそうだけど なんか気味悪いね It’s kind of creepy, isn’t it? We’d get to live in peace, but… Ryuji つか、よくそんな 物騒 なこと思いつくよな You always gotta think of the worst things, don’t you, Futaba? Futaba だってヒマなんだもん It’s because I get bored. Futaba あ、そうじろう帰って来た そんじゃな! Oh, there’s Sojiro! See ya! Yusuke 本当に暇潰しだったのか So this was all just to relieve her boredom? Makoto じゃあ、私たちも 授業に戻りましょう We should all turn back to our lessons, anyway. Morgana 人を生き返らせる、か。認知を使ってそんなことするなんて… Bringing people back to life, huh? Imagine using cognition to do such a thing… Morgana ワガハイには理解できないぜ。 I just can’t understand it.
revision history
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v1.0 (posted 2024/11/30)—first posted.
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waystarresourceco · 1 year ago
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Always entertained by how firmly Brian Cox insists Logan and Rhea didn't have an affair. (x)
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moonstruckme · 16 days ago
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Hi, I love the emt!marauders you post, I was wondering if u could write one that the reader has a chronic disease that involves getting sore when it's cold? Idk how to explain, I have lupus, and when it's cold, my joints tend to get sensitive and sore...so something with fluff/comfort, pls?
Thank you for requesting my love <3
cw: reader has unspecified chronic pain that flares up in the cold, I relied on the internet to write this so if anything seems wrong/inaccurate please let me know
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 887 words
Sirius is furious with himself for not checking the weather report. It’s so rare that you all have time off work on the same day, it’s possible you’d gotten ahead of yourselves in the excitement, but the sudden onset of winter wasn’t part of anyone’s plan. Even in Remus’ coat and tucked under James’ arm, you’ve gone quiet and withdrawn. Sirius can practically see you cringing with every step you take down the sidewalk. 
The other boys are similarly concerned.
“Let’s pop in here,” James suggests, maneuvering you all towards a bookstore. 
“Jamie,” you say, voice all sweetness even when it’s threaded through with exhaustion, “don’t go in somewhere you don’t want to just for me.” 
“Doll, I know how it might seem that way,” says Sirius, “but despite popular misconception, James actually can read.” 
You crack a smile, though it looks like it costs you. “Right, thanks, but we’re supposed to be out doing things we all like. If we went into a bookstore, you two would just end up sitting somewhere while Remus and I looked around.” 
“I like seeing you comfortable,” James says, somewhat poutily, “and I like buying you things. A bookstore is sounding rather enjoyable right now.” 
“Don’t you want to go inside?” Remus touches his knuckles gently underneath the butterfly-shaped rash on your cheeks that’s worsening due to the sun and cold. It’s not a terribly frigid day but the wind makes it worse, and however you try to act your boyfriends can see the toll it’s taking on you. “Even if it’s just for a while, it’ll be good to give yourself a break.” 
“Rem’s cold too,” Sirius says, noting the tension in the other boy’s posture now that he’s given up his coat, “aren’t you, lovely? C’mon, I know where we can go.” 
You don’t seem to have it in you to protest as Sirius leads you all down the block to the coffee shop around the corner. The heat is blasting inside. He finds you a table away from the door, where the cold breeze coming in can’t reach you and the whirring of the coffee grinders is less deafening. James insists on buying you each a warm beverage and a sweet (only you and Remus protest this; Sirius doesn’t know why you bother). 
“My poor girl,” Sirius murmurs, holding your frozen hands carefully in his. Remus’ coat pockets have done an insufficient job protecting them. Sirius devotes himself to rubbing warmth into each finger. 
“I think my drink would do as good a job of warming them up,” you say amusedly. 
“As good? I’m insulted.” 
“You know she really should be stretching her joints herself, love,” says Remus. 
“I do know,” Sirius replies primly, “thank you very much. It’s only that I’m very selfish.” 
Remus hums into his tea. “Selfish enough to let her drink go cold.” 
Sirius relents and lets you pick up your mug. You squeeze his hands thankfully before letting go. 
The windows at the front of the shop are foggy. It’s not cold enough yet for frost around the edges, but the mist gives the bustling street a blurred, wintry look, like the four of you are encapsulated in a warm snow globe scene, unmoving and separate from the outside world. Sirius finds it rather peaceful. 
“Did anyone bring ibuprofen?” James asks. 
You cringe sheepishly. “No, sorry. I forgot it at home.” 
“Don’t be sorry, lovie.” James palms the back of your neck, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Any of us could’ve thought of it. We’ll stop somewhere and grab a bottle.” 
“It never hurts to have extra,” Remus agrees before you can argue. 
“Okay,” you say, voice gone soft as it often does when you feel your boyfriends are taking too much notice of you. Sirius doesn’t understand your aversion to this in the slightest. “Thanks.” 
“It’s ungodly freezing out,” Sirius complains. “I move that we make a coffee shop stop every two blocks.” 
James’ face lights. “It could be like appetizer hopping—”
“But with pastries,” Sirius finishes. 
You don’t immediately argue, a promising sign. Remus appears to be warming to the idea as well. “We’d have to pace ourselves a bit more,” he points out, looking at your table cramped with plates and saucers. “Maybe at each place we pick one thing to share.” 
Sirius scoffs. “Suit yourself. I’m not splitting a muffin into four pieces and eating only one.” 
James looks as though he agrees, but he only says cheerily, “We’ll figure it out as we go. Does that sound good?” 
He poses the question to everyone, but they all know he’s really only asking you. Remus and Sirius give their assent quickly and you shrink a bit in your seat, embarrassed. 
“If it really doesn’t sound too inconvenient for you guys.” You lift one shoulder in a shrug. Sirius thinks with satisfaction that the motion looks easier than it might have when you first came in from the cold. “Then yeah, I’m alright with it.” 
“Oh, yes,” Sirius teases, “an afternoon spent enjoying coffee and pastries with the three most fetching people on the continent. I should really rethink this, it may be too inconvenient.” 
“Prick.” James elbows him and leans over to wrap an arm around you protectively, but your smile blooms, and that’s all Sirius wanted in the end.
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lyrefromthesea · 5 months ago
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Male Hashira x Reader - Livin' on the Farm
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author's note: this was a request, but i've managed to accidentally delete my whole inbox. as a result, i can only work on the requests i still have in mind or in my drafts, apologies.
request: how would the hashira react as livestock on a cow hybrid farm with a new farmer!reader? (i was mildly surprised when i read they get milked by their cocks. it made me laugh without a doubt.)
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: nsfw, probably cum as milk alternative?
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Tengen:
• Obanai and him were the first to spot you. they initially thought you were another cow hybrid that got transported to the farm.
• he'll quickly realize that you're, in fact, just a human, who had been given the duty to watch after the livestock here.
• he's one of the biggest cow hybrids you'll find, only smaller than Gyomei, but much more territorial. he has no problem seeing you with the other cow hybrids unless he wants you alone, it'll instantly get his mind to sync with his more animalistic instincts.
• how they behave when it's time for milking: he won't walk to the machine alone, you have to bring him there every time it's his turn. has no problem letting you put the pump on his cock, but gets whiney when near the end.
• "it's enough, i can't make more milk.. take it off, how am i able to produce more like this?" luckily for him, you listen to his whines. truthfully, he could probably get milked one or two times more, but you still take pity on him.
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Obanai:
• like i mentioned earlier, Tengen and him were the first to spot you, confusing you for another cow hybrid at first.
• it took him a minute or two to realize you were just a normal human. his tail had already started swaying slowly by then, leaving the impression on his mind that you were fragile and needed protection.
• he was really silent at first. he's not the most social person and it's seldom someone new arrives at the farm. it doesn't take him long to warm up to you, seeing how you quietly sneak him treats, because he tends to eat less than the others.
• how they behave when it's time for milking: while Tengen only lets himself get milked when it's necessary, Obanai finds the building pressure uncomfortable at some point. he'll quietly approach you by then, giving you a glance that has you realize what's wrong.
"i'm sorry, Obanai! How long did you stand there? You could've said something." you had been working around the farm, it took you a while to notice others during that timeframe.
"not long.. can you..?" he's shy to ask, but never disappointed when you immediately agree and guide him to the milking machine.
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Rengoku:
• Gyomei and him met you last. you were supposed to check on the livestock, having walked towards him because you spotted Gyomei near.
• Rengoku sat up, head poking out of the hay to get a sight of the new farmer. he immediately liked you, you looked like a nice person with a big heart, albeit a bit shy.
• he has a habit of exploring, often forcing you to search for him. somehow you'll always find him sitting somewhere on the meadow, doing whatever seems fit to him.
• how they behave when it's time for milking: he's up for it, often already waiting near the milk machine so you have an easier job. it's the least he could do. he doesn't complain about the machine, but a few words and a laugh always signaled when he was nearly out of milk.
"i think that's ha- i thinks that's enough.." it doesn't take long for him to be freed of the pump. he tries to keep himself from whining, overplaying it with one of his laughs, but the sight always makes you quietly laugh.
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Sanemi:
• you met him a few minutes before Giyuu. he is truly one of the more tiring cow hybrids. he takes pride in his being and presents himself as a strong bull if you were to ask.
• he had ignored you at the start because, why should he give you attention? you were a mere human - fragile and weak. and-
• and when you pulled on his tail, making him yelp and turn around with wide eyes, you suddenly looked much stronger in his eyes. it was milking time and he had ignored you, that was your revenge.
• how they behave when it's time for milking: he'll trot after you like you're about to give him a punishment. you swear he doesn't stop complaining about the pump, but it's surprisingly easy to put it on him.
"this stupid thing should be thrown away. there's no need to-" will give you a glare and a groan, you turned the pump on without a warning.
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Giyuu:
• he had spotted you before you had spotted him. he had watched your first interaction with Sanemi, not surprised when the other male walked away after a few minutes.
• he just didn't expect you to see him a moment later, walking towards him with a smile. he wasn't a social man, but he quickly became smitten with you when he learned who you were
• nice and beautiful. smart as well and you treated him so kindly - almost as nice as a mate. he'll quietly stay near you from time to time, ready to help but too silent to say anything. the day you asked him for help just made him more fond of you.
• how they behave when it's time for milking: he doesn't complain and lets you guide him towards the machine calmly. he tries to stay silent until the pump has finished, but his small moans and grunts signal that he's near the end with his production.
"are.. are we finished..?" he almost looked disappointed when you took the pump off his cock, he could do more for you! but you know it's enough from the way his eyes almost looked a bit clouded over, ears twitching when he grew overstimulated by the pump.
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Gyomei:
• if it hadn't been for his size, you would've met him last. he was more silent than the other hybrids on the farm, but his presence seemingly was enough to establish some kind of respect for him.
• you knew that he was blind from the information that was stored about the different cows, but you nearly wouldn't have been able to tell by his confident stance.
• he probably spent a long time on the farm, now knowing it like the back of his hand. in addition, he liked following you around, carrying heavy objects for you, because he knew you weren't as strong as the hybrids on the farm.
• how they behave when it's time for milking: he's probably the calmest out of them all. he know what's about to happen and doesn't see a problem, you're doing your job and you do it good for them all. he doesn't complain either, only small shudders indicating that he has had enough time on the pump.
"you're good, Gyomei! you can go back to the others now." you smile, seeing the man slowly stand up. if you hadn't known him so good, you wouldn't have noticed that he's a bit slower after milking sessions.
"do you need help?" you were almost surprised by his offer, but seeing the tall hybrid tower over you made you smile. you wouldn't mind help when it was from someone like him.
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diejager · 10 months ago
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I know this kinda sounds stupid- but can you do a feral deer reader who was found by the task force? The reader has some magical healing abilities, so she ended up captured and hired as a medic. Since the reader never really communicated with humans/ other hybrids and was mostly by herself, she doesn't understand social stuff. For example, she can be convinced that getting groped is a greeting, and she'll agree since she never interacted with other hybrids before. So she's pretty much oblivious.
If possible- make her a bit fluffy? 👉👈
I’m going to make this the continuation to Doe because I can!! Muhahahahahah!!!!!! ψ(`∇´)ψ
Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, non-con touching, magic, hybrid, groping, tell me if I missed any.
You were introduced to Laswell after the mission, dressed in better clothing than the tattered dress you wore, antlers cleaned from all the leaves and officially claimed by the Task Force, you found a place in their group. Going through a few rough patches and scuffles to get you out of your home, they watched you tend to your wounds, your hands glowing over the scrapes and tongue lapping at your bleeding fingers. Your… ability was the driving nail that forced Laswell to bend to their words, she’d been hounding them to get a medic or someone with better medical knowledge than the four of them combined. 
After all the paperwork and sweat, Price had the honour of locking the pretty collar they team bought you around your neck, the insignia gleaming under the office light was the final step to bind you to them as your handlers, a poor and fragile, little deer they saved from the freezing Canadian wilderness. But in all honesty, all they did was separate you from your herd, the warmer spring announcing the end of your antlers and the growth of a new set, it made frolicking and dancing easier than winter did. You were plucked from everything you knew, ripped from your lush forest and livelihood where you watched over the fauna and little critters that came to you for healing, and forcefully placed in a dead and unfeeling world where grey buildings towered over the forests and life restrained to small patches of dying soil. It made you uncomfortable, but the binding words the four men - human men - and the nice but stoic lady (she looked so tired, it made your hands itch to soothe her aches) shared with you made it seem like it was impossible for you to return to your home. 
“This is your new home, sweetheart,” the bear-like man said, his gruff voice and imposing figure had you shuddering in your seat, much more than the energetic man with electric, blue eyes that you then learned was Soap. 
You wanted to argue, but your voice died in your throat when they all stared at you with dark and expectant eyes, seemingly anticipating submission and obedience from you as a deer. How could you fight when they held such an oppressive air around them, but perhaps it was just their broad and muscular bodies that made your nerves bristle; perhaps they were nicer than they looked, gentler and tender like the way that man with brown eyes held you in the metal bird, whispering sweet and comforting words; or perhaps they were truly mean and dominating, like some pack of wolves that shared your home. You hoped they were as nice as the Gaz, who made you call him by his… real name? You were confused, but you did as he asked, calling him Kyle unlike the other men. 
You gave Price a muted nod, eyes cast down and fingers scratching and pulling at your restrictive clothes, feeling too covered and your skin too sensitive by all the irritating fabrics and silks. It hadn’t taken them much time to intergrate you in their schedule, finding you a place in their group to stare at and work despite your clear confusion about the social norms and your sudden duty. The human world was a stranger to you, foreign acts and alien words that you needed help with: you could read some words while others were completely incomprehensible for your feral mind, or your confusion about the use for phones and anything too advanced had you fumbling with your words.
It’s good that you had them to help you, no? 
Price made you attend classes with him and Ghost, being taught the alphabet and complicated words after the training drills and morning rituals, sometimes seated between them, squeezed so tightly between their broad shoulders, and other times seated on their laps, their shadow looming over you when they bent over to show you something. They touched you a lot, Ghost having less restraint than his Captain, his rough, gloveless fingers sliding beneath your shirt and groping the softness of your stomach and kneading your breasts, feeling its weight and perky nipples. You squirmed on his lap, whined out your discomfort, used to physical interaction in your herd, but never something so forward, but Ghost had reassured you that this was a normal human behaviour towards someone they cared deeply for.
Price kept his to your stomach and ass, feeling the fat of your cheeks and occasionally standing a hit, drinking in your yelps and whimpers from his touches. He, alike Ghost did, assured you that it was normal that he hooked his arm around your hip and holding you flushed to his side, his musky scent wafting around you like a thick cloud of smoke. He ruffled your hair once your antlers fell, petting you like he would a dog, carding through your washed locks and chuckling when your ears twitched from being handled. He would often call you to his office at random times, allegedly wanting you to train healing them since humans were slightly different than hybrids and having you lick his paper cut with your pink tongue. He liked shoving two fingers down your throat and pumping until you gagged and choked, drooling down his wrist while he breathed heavily and palmed himself.
Gaz and Soap helped you with other things: understanding human behaviour, training you mind and body and helping you around the base when you were lost and disoriented. Both men were enthused to be your chaperone, excited to take part in your schooling in other ways. Gaz lead you around the base hand in hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a strong and unmoving grip while he pulled you forward, your tail flicking anxiously when people gazed your way, their eyes probing your uniform-clad figure. He was more upfront than the older men, pulling you to his chest and cuddling you in public areas, the bigger rec room, the mess hall or the gym, nuzzling the crook of your neck, lips drawling pretty words on your throat and shoulder and hair tickling your skin, mumbling the sweetest praises despite your obvious stiffness.
Soap, not unlike Gaz, had you call him Johnny (Ghost called him that too, you quickly found out) and was the touchiest of the four, always placing a hand on you even in awkward and weird situations. Soap was more animalistic than the others, panting and huffing when he spent too long around you, rutting your thigh like a wolf in rut or another reindeer deep in the season, you were quite sure this one wasn’t that much of a norm, seeing people avert their eyes or Ghost scruffing Soap and hissing degrading words. He especially loved sparring with you, pinning you on the mat, hand wrapped around your nap and putting his weight on your struggling body. He’d grind his hard bulge against your ass, ignoring your cries and whines, happily huffing and groaning in your ear while Gaz and Ghost watched on, admiring the sight, a pretty and vulnerable deer with little stubs and flickering ears, writhing under the mutt of the Task Force. 
Even if your initial use was for healing wounds and supporting the team, they found a secondary task for you in all the chaos and caution, to help you open up to them faster and easier. It’d only take a few kisses, cuddling and sessions until you grow attune and accept your new home.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts
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drdemonprince · 3 months ago
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what was your journey from libertarian to leftest/anarchist like?
well, as a teen i hated authority and society and wanted complete freedom so i was a libertarian. then i realized i was gay and trans and libertarianism weren't gonna do shit for me. when obama won in 2008 i noticed that i felt relieved, even though i had not voted for him. I went away to academia shortly after that, and became surrounded by liberal people, all of them doing research with a liberal point of view, and what do you know, product of my social environment and queer and desperate for acceptance among the group that said they cared about me, I became a liberal too.
over time academia mistreated me and rejected me for who i really was, and i started to transition and realize that i was disabled. i became more left-leaning frankly because it seemed like that was the only way to be able to survive as what i was, identity wise, and find anyone at all who would correctly gender me or tolerate me. if you want to be able to hang out with other trans people and have them treat you right, there are values you basically have to say that you subscribe to. anyone who didn't subscribe to those political values was mistreated, viewed skeptically, talked to like they were dumb, and ostracized. and some of those values did make sense to me, whereas others didn't.
i saw people pushed to the social margins for being libertarians, for instance, as if that is a political ideology that carries any danger when some random trans woman with a very weak social support system says in a support group that she maybe kinda subscribes to it. i was even terrified of people finding out that i used to believe in anything "wrong" according to the social dogma, for a while. but i tried to make the most sense of the confusing tangle of community held beliefs as i could, so that i wouldnt be completely ostracized from both straight and queer society at once. and so I was vaguely leftist, but with a confused understanding of systemic oppression based on identity (among lots of other things, like abolition and anti-colonialism), and a deep terror of ever saying anything that would ever get me criticized/cancelled/viewed as a bad person.
and then the pandemic happened and i wasn't so beholden to mass community scrutiny anymore. i read a ton i looked at how politics actually plays out, and i got a little bit more capable and secure in myself and came to similarly feel awed by how much people are really capable of when they aren't being controlled or dependent upon approval in order to survive. and anarchy basically asserted that it had always been there in me, i just hadn't known the name for it. and by then i felt safe and strong enough and had enough faith in others to decide it was okay to have opinions that others disagreed with, and that i wouldn't starve out in the cold if i gave voice to them.
like a lot of people, i had misconceptions about what anarchism really was and writers like Graeber, Wengrow, Solnit, etc really disabused me of that notion and made me understand that it wasn't a scary worldview at all, it was the most human and accepting one there really was out there.
My political journey has not been especially principled or philosophical, it has been emotional, intuitive, and rooted in a lot of social influences. i think that's what most political ideologies are about for people, ultimately, belonging and safety.
I was originally a political scientist by training and in that field's body of research we see that most people do not have consistent political belief systems, they agree to a mish-mosh of statements and support various policies that don't all add up in a logically explicable way. they also don't tend to have stable views over time. just as i think morality is a pretty bad explanation of why humans do what they do, and why we help eachother and avoid doing harm, it's very evident that political ideology is a piss poor predictor of political behavior or affiliation. the far clearer explanation far more consistent with the evidence is that people politically align themselves based on their social milleu and their feelings.
this is why i always feel myself holding back from dying for a cause, and blanch when MLMs start talking about needing to do all they can to bring about communism with an almost religious fervor (beyond the fact that such thinking also doesn't line up with a lot of communist thought and theory about how capitalism falls anyway). i dont think that any of these ideologies really carry all that much weight or influence people's actions, affiliations, or political behavior on the level we all pretend that they do. i dont think they're "real". anarchy is more of a philosophy of how to relate to other people in daily life, for me, rather than a religion about how the world needs to be or where we specifically need to be heading. it's more big-I Ideological for plenty of other people, and again, i blanch when they start preaching about it as if their whole life is in service to the idea of it. I think we do anarchism by living as if we're free, every day. and that's what i care about, if i'm being honest. feeling free, safe, and cared for by some other people, without conditions, right now.
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1d1195 · 5 months ago
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Toothpaste III
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Read Toothpaste here | ~2.6k words
From me: Been way longer than it was supposed to since I last chatted about these two.
Warnings: a couple sweet fluffy puns and pining.
Summary: Harry realizes there's a bit of nepotism in hiring her to work for him while she finds a new job. But Harry would call it flat out favoritism. Also, he really likes the way she says Dr. Styles when she answers the phone.
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“Good morning, Dr. Styles office.”
Harry was used to hearing his name said by women all the time. He worked with all women—they all reminded him of his mum which is why he hired them. Unfortunately, he found that many of the newly graduated dental hygienists were there for him...and not the job. He started his practice fresh out of school. Wanting to make good on his degree (and start pecking away at the loan debt from dental school) and help those with toothaches as soon as humanly possible. He was kind to each of them, but he wasn’t oblivious to the flirting that attempted to reel him in during the interview process. They would make small remarks about how they saw themselves fitting right in at his practice—and life. They batted their eyelashes and smiled just a hair too hard.
Now, he was no better than those he turned down in favor of the woman flitting about his office and eyeing the same sweet girl on desk duty. Hiring her because she was pretty, funny, intelligent.
And very much unemployed thanks to him.
Not even dinner first?
It rang in his head. The promise to take her to dinner still only remained just that: a promise. He had given her space as she was excited about the time to herself for the first time in two years. But then when she called again about a month after, claiming she was getting bored and antsy, Harry had to hire her. There had been paperwork to get hired. Training in what her tasks would be as she made the desk her home-away-from-home.
It seemed wrong to hire her and desperately want to go on a date with her, so he separated the two. Let her get her feet under her and whatnot. So, he never got to find out if ‘open’ would be the last of their flirting.
Unfortunately, Harry was ready to let all of his sanity fly out the window. The way Styles sounded in her mouth was a sin and a virtue. Completely and totally the cause for him struggling to maintain a semblance of control over his emotions.
“I know we say drooling is good thing in this office, Dr. Styles, but that’s a bit much,” Mary chided as she walked past him in the small hallway between rooms. Harry cleared his throat. Once more thankful for the mask covering the majority of his face to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks. She was none the wiser, fiddling with a pen as she listened intently. The little headset on her head while she scribbled on a notepad.
“Let me check and I’ll call you right back, yeah? If not, I’ll find someone to recommend,” her voice was so soothing, oozing with kindness and understanding that Harry didn’t know was necessary for someone scheduling appointments for him, but it was the moment he heard her voice. There was an exchange of goodbyes and then she clicked the headset off. “Dr. Styles,” she sang analyzing her notes while clicking and tapping away at her keyboard.
Now Harry had to pretend like he wasn’t just waiting for her to call for his attention. He turned immediately into a patient room where Helen was tending to a teen boy. Helen glanced up; her eyes danced with a smile unseen by her own mask as she continued to pick at the buildup between her patient’s teeth. “Toby isn’t due for an exam, Dr. Styles,�� Helen teased.
He glared at her briefly and turned to call out of the room. “Jus’ a second, love.”
“Did you hear that, Toby?” Helen whispered. “Dr. Styles is a bit smitten with his secretary. He’s trying to act casual.”
Toby smiled around the instruments in his mouth and peered back toward where Harry stood. “She pre-ee,” he murmured.
“She is pretty,” Helen agreed. “But he’s pretending like he isn’t in love with her.” Toby chuckled around the tool once more and Harry glared at him.
“There’s a joke ‘bout me being a sadistic dentist, Toby. Make sure y’floss before y’next exam,” he warned lowly. “Helen,” he nodded.
“Dr. Styles,” she nodded in response, the smile never leaving her eyes.
*
She was scribbling on the calendar in front of her inputting as many random national dates as possible. It started shortly after her arrival. The other women in the office usually multitasked their dental duties as well as the front desk. They were excited to have her. As motherly as they were, they knew immediately why Dr. Styles hired the pretty girl and were hopeful the otherwise quiet, shy man would open himself up for her and let love in rather than spend all his waking hours thinking about his practice.
The day of her follow up appointment, she informed him it was National Chocolate Ice Cream Day and she wanted to be sure she would be allowed to celebrate.
“National what?” He chuckled.
It was the kind of thing that made life a little more enjoyable, she explained. After he hired her to be secretary, it was a whirlwind filling the calendar with as many silly days to recognize as possible. Many days had multiple things to be celebrated, so she chose carefully. National Dimples Day was a must—given that Harry had pretty dimples hiding behind his mask. It was followed by National Pina Colada Day, and she told him it was one of her favorite summer drinks.
“Did y’need something?” His voice was warm. Like always. The way it made her feel safe when she was scared that first time she met him, worried a root canal was in her very immediate future. “What’s that say?”
“National Retainer Day!” She nearly cheered. She looked up at him with a bright smile and he couldn’t help but fall harder for her. Each topic of the day was curated with someone in mind. Even the other ladies in the office got their moment to celebrate something they loved as she would randomly call out factoids about the coming month. “Anyone like rosé?” She had called.
“Who doesn’t?!” Melissa shouted back. Of course, the entire time she worked was spent mainly doing tasks, waiting in between calls and tasks to continue filling in the calendar with her funny days of recognition.
Harry was still chuckling about Retainer Day. “Something y’needed t’ask from y’phone call?” He repeated gently to jog her memory.
“Oh yes,” she dropped her pen midway through writing National “Ba” and he felt a little bad for interrupting her thought. Also, he desperately wanted to know the end of the word, and what they would be celebrating in a few weeks. She opened a different window back up and held her notebook poised professionally in front of her. “It’s a little boy,” she explained. “His teeth sound a lot like mine, so I’m probably being too nice,” she frowned. “I know you’re not a pediatric dentist, but the mom sounded exhausted so I told her I would ask and if not recommend someone you know personally from dental school who would take care of him.”
The kindness in her heart was way too sweet. No wonder she was filled with cavities.
“S’fine, set it up, I’ll look.”
“Like today?”
“S’it that serious?” Harry asked curiously.
“Mom sounds exhausted.”
“Like she’s going t’pull her son’s teeth out at a hardware store?”
“Exactly,” her smile was so beautiful. Harry knew smiles.
“S’this m’next patient?” He asked pointing at the tablet waiting beside her. She handed it to him and watched him read.
The way Harry leaned against the counter surrounding her desk put his forearms on full display making her stomach flip. Due to the mask, she couldn’t see his mouth—which was probably for the best. If she saw his lips, his nice teeth, perfect smile, or that dimple in his left cheek she would do something crazy, like kiss him in the middle of his waiting room. Even though no one was there in the waiting room, it seemed like a precedent she couldn’t let happen. Especially when her coworkers were down the hall with patients as well.
His eyes were so focused on the tablet, he didn’t even notice she was staring at him. His concentration was adorable. It was obvious Harry cared about all his patients. He was so intelligent (obviously) and just overall lovely.
“Are we ever going to go on our date?” She whispered quietly so not even Mary, Helen, or Melissa could hear.
Harry nearly dropped the tablet. His mask saved him once more by hiding his surprise. “Oh...um...” It spooked him that she was so confident and easy going about their flirting. It was only a few moments of flirtation and yet, it was enough to make him flustered. Tongue-tied. His brain misfired, no words could get out of his mouth.
Which was not great for her.
“I’m sorry,” she looked away and her hair fell in front of her face so he couldn’t see her embarrassment. “That was rude, I was...” she shook her head. “Forget I said it.”
Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest, and she thought she might die of mortification. How could she say that in the middle of the workday? That was so inappropriate. Maybe more inappropriate since he was a hand deep in her mouth and she asked to open for him. At least then she was a patient and could leave. Instead, he was going to have to go be a hand deep in someone else’s mouth thinking about how she cornered him and flirted with him when she shouldn’t have.
Her stupid mouth was going to get her fired again. She finished the word “Bagel” on her calendar and looked for the information to call that poor mother back. She dialed the phone number and listened on her headset at the other end rang.
A note was dropped on her desk, a prescription paper from Harry’s notepad. Fluttered and settled directly in front of her as the phone continued ringing. She turned to see Harry’s retreating figure before she picked it up and read it.
Tomorrow? Tooth-irty is too early. How about six?
*
The bell to her apartment rang at quarter to six. She was doing some finishing touches to her hair and makeup, and it seemed they would remain unfinished. She wasn’t mad that he was early because it was making her anxious to wait for so long (hence the extra primping). “Just a second!” She called scrambling to put the last bobby pin in place and swiped mascara over her lashes quickly.
She hurried to the door and pulled it out of the way. Harry held three red roses in his hand. “Sorry m’early. I was... nervous and excited.”
“Nervous?” She questioned.
He nodded but didn’t say anything else. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. He was quiet overall. But when he did speak, every word was warm, important. Nerves must not have been important. “Those are beautiful,” she reached out to touch the mini bouquet. The petals were like velvet, and she imagined that he paid a pretty penny for just three little roses.
“S’not too much?” He asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “They’re perfect.”
He released a relieved sigh and smiled. “Good.”
*
At dinner, Harry pulled her chair out and his knee bumped hers beneath the table. She tried to memorize every detail of the moment. It was a feeling that started all the way in her toes and worked up to the roots of her hair. This was a big day. A big moment.
Three months ago, she was in a different world. Now she was at a new job, a new apartment, and on a date with her unbelievably handsome dentist and boss. It was unreal and perfect and something that didn’t happen every day. Something that had never happened to her.
So, she was memorizing every little detail so that when she thought about it for the rest of her life she could talk about the wrinkle near the corner of his mouth when he smiled. How his eyebrow quirked up when he read something he liked on the menu. The way his fingers wrapped around the stem of his wine glass like he was a connoisseur. Was he? She wanted to ask.
“S’it alright?” He asked quietly.
In all her memorizing, she forgot how quiet she must have gotten. Even a man as few words as Harry, it was probably unnerving to sit in silence while sipping at wine, listening to the quiet jazz quartet in the corner of the space while the girl across from him nibbled at the bread on her plate and stared at him for what must have been an embarrassing number of minutes. “Yes,” she said quickly, her knee bumping against his and the table causing the glasses to wiggle. He smiled. That gorgeous, beautiful smile that should have been on pamphlets and billboards for his practice. “Sorry,” she cleared her throat.
She wondered if he would ask her back to his place. Was it too much to do that? Maybe they could just hang out. Her entire work week was spent with Harry and yet she just wanted more time with him. Like something had changed in her that this was...this was something more. More than a toothache. More than toothpaste.
“Are you alright, love? You’re awfully quiet...”
“Can I say something...insane? You obviously don’t mind my ranting thus far between my intake form and my appointments. But this one might... really make you regret asking me out... I don’t know... I just think I have spent a lot of my young adulthood being unhappy. I watched rom-coms and read romance novels and envisioned this all-encompassing love that would put Nicholas Sparks to shame. Then I started my job fresh out of college and I hadn’t thought about love in three years? Four years. Four years of not thinking about love, reading about love, watching love and it was my favorite thing in the world...and then I got a toothache and wanted to yank it out myself and you were just there. You don’t say a lot but you... you helped me quit a job I wasn’t happy in, a job I wasn’t in love with a job that was killing me from the inside out,” she took a breath and Harry was stoically watching her. “I am trying to focus on everything that is happening. For the last three months I’ve been trying to figure all of this out and remember every little detail about you. The way that your knee feels next to mine and how your ring clinks on your wine glass and how I have imagined falling in love so many times in my life and I never thought it would happen in a dentist office—arguably, my least favorite place in the world.”
Speechless. Completely totally speechless.
Harry held his hand up for the waiter. “Could we get our food t’go?” He asked.
Part of her hoped the ground would open up and swallow her. The anxiety and mortification she felt was so intense her voice was dead in her throat. All emotion stopped existing. Part of her thought she did combust as he asked to leave. “Is everything alright?” The waiter asked.
“Yes,” Harry nodded assuredly. “S’jus’... I’ve got a bit of a toothache,” he explained and glanced at her finally. The left dimple making itself visible. The relief swam through her. “Need t’head home t’take care of it. S’that okay, love?” He asked quietly.
She nodded. “Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “It’s that sweet tooth of yours.”
“Well, y’know me, love,” he winked and handed his credit card to the waiter. “I crave sweet things.”
--
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Changes
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What do you do when the person you once were becomes the person you miss being the most?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, no smut in this I'm sorry pls still read it :( there's some tension tho!!
Length: 6.5k words
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"Thanks for picking him up." Taehyung sighs, his son happily in the living room, taking a nap from school as he tucks himself in on the couch while his favorite show plays on the TV.
"I would've asked her, you know, but I feel like I'm relying too much on her again." The young father sighs. "I'm basically treating her the same as I did years ago, just without the pay."
"I heard about that." Jungkook says, drinking his coffee at the kitchen table where he sits across Taehyung. "She used to nanny while you lived separately from your wife, I think it was." He hums, setting his cup down. Jungkook isn't on bad terms with Taehyung's wife- but he tends to not say her name, because he honestly harbors quite a bit of distaste towards the woman who refuses to properly take care of her own child.
"Well don't you seem to know a bit about her now." Taehyung squints his eyes in suspicion. "What happened to 'she's too young for me anyways' huh?" He teases, and Jungkook sighs.
"Well, things.. happened. And we talked." He shrugs. "We're not.. really a couple, but we agreed to spend time with one another." He explains.
"So you're friends with benefits?" He wonders, drinking his tea while Jungkook leans back.
"No." He shakes his head, even though deep down, it does kind of feel like that to him, now that he thinks about it a bit more. "It's.. a bit more complicated than that. We're simply talking, seeing where it goes." He says.
"Hmhm." Tae nods. "Just don't break her heart. I still got basically nightmares from her last relationship." He mumbles a bit angrily to himself, clearly a bit irritated even just by the thought of it.
"I.. wondered what happened." Jungkook says. "Dae said he was a drinker?" He wonders, and Taehyung nods.
"Drinker, druggie, abusive asshole." He huffs, crossing his arms. "It's the main reason she moved away when Daehyun was younger. She wanted to protect him- make sure he won't get hurt."
"Was he violent?" Jungkook wants to know, because honestly, he has a hunch that that might've been the case. Taehyung seems on edge now, clearly torn between probably saying the truth, and respecting your privacy. "I was intending to ask her anyways. But she seems like the type to downplay her problems in order to make things seem less serious, so I thought you might be more honest." He adds.
"Yeah, she is like that." Tae agrees softly. "I'm not too sure what exactly went down. But I do know that she.. distanced herself out of fear that Daehyun might get hurt." He tells his friend. "Greg started to pick her up every time she'd babysit Daehyun at my house, even after I told him I didn't like that. He still did, still argued, turned up drunk multiple times at my doorstep." The young father remembers. "I kept her with me, of course. I'd never let her drive home with that alcoholic- but I guess something must've happened because she just.. suddenly cut contact." He shrugs. "Sent me a text, changed her number, moved out her old apartment."
"When did she come back?" Jungkook wonders.
"According to Yoongi, a few weeks before the aftershow party." Taehyung responds.
"So that's why you didn't recognize her?" He figures, and Tae nods.
"She changed a lot. Not just visually. She's.." His eyes lower to the cup in his hand. "..a lot more quiet. Cautious. Jumpy." He informs his friend. "And at the same time, she seems to mask a lot of it- get's irritated easily. She's trying to be who she was, but it's obvious that something changed, and whenever someone notices, she becomes defensive."
Jungkook doesn't really know what to think. Looking at Daehyun on the couch, he can absolutely understand your standpoint back then to get away from Taehyung's family in order to protect them- but that means there must have been at least some form of fear against your former partner to make you believe that he could potentially be a danger to the young boy and his father. It could also just be jealousy, of course- but Taehyung is right. You are a little odd sometimes.
And he doesn't know if he wants to know exactly why, or if he wants to let sleeping dogs rest.
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Jungkook leans back in his office chair, headache already almost too unbearable to him, especially considering the woman who's making her way up in the giant corporate building to see him.
She wants money again, he knows it. Evelyn only ever visits him if there's something she wants, after all.
"One might argue they'd know me by now." Evelyn huffs as she enters the office, hair a bit wet as she throws her coat over the chair in front of his desk, before she sits down. "How're you doing?" She wonders, and Jungkook doesn't look away from his laptop's screen whatsoever, still looking through his e-mails. He doesn't have to put too many thoughts into this conversation after all- she's most likely just here to leech off of him again.
"Cut it." He simply says. "What do you want?" He asks, phone on his desk vibrating and chiming with a new notification.
'I can just drop something off for you? I just got off work myself, so it's no hassle.' your message reads, an answer to a former rant from him about his headache, and the fact that he's 'locked in like a dog' in his office and without any proper food ever since this morning. It makes him softly smile a little, the fact that you want to bring him something to eat even though you're probably exhausted from your shift as well is something he's not used to. And he didn't even have to ask for it.
'Only if it's really not an issue for you' his answer reads, and you send a thumbs-up emoji as an answer, before you finish typing your proper answer.
'DW, is anything okay or do you want something specific?' you question, and he immediately types a response.
'Just whatever, really. Nothing too spicy though, please.' he offers, when a hand knocks on the table in front of him, the woman in his office dragging him back into reality with force. He signs, locks his phone before he puts it down, opening a chat with the front desk downstairs to let them know to bring you up when you arrive.
"You know, this was always the issue, Jungkook." Evelyn whines, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "You're so consumed by your work, it's crazy." She shakes her head.
"That wasn't work, actually." He bites back with a monotone voice, not really offering her any emotion whatsoever- there's nothing left in him anymore he could offer anyways. She took it all, sucked it out of him like an insect, and now she's constantly upset that he's empty inside.
"Anyways, I got this letter recently stating that there was an issue with the bank transfer?" She says, giving him the letter to read- which he does, flying over it just to remember why that bank transfer did not go through. "I told them that they'll get their money by friday." She hums, leaning her face on her palm while he gives her the letter back.
"What do I have to do with it then?" He asks, and she sits upright again, tilting her head a bit in irritation. "You said they'll get their money by friday. Good. Why are you here then?" He asks, arms crossed, office chair squeaking a bit as he leans back into it.
"Well, it's your bank account!" She laughs a bit unsure. "I don't even know why there was apparently not a sufficient balance on it." She argues.
"I resigned the automatic transfer rights." Jungkook tells her, face not moving an inch as he breaks the news. "The letter doesn't mention an insufficient balance at all, Evelyn. It states that there's no bank account set for the automated transfer option at all." He informs her.
"What the fuck Jungkook?!" She barks. "And you didn't even tell me?!" She yells, standing up to slap her hands on his desk. "You can't just make these changes and not inform me about it! Do you know how expensive that was?!" She accuses, and he shrugs, noticing something move behind her, milky glass front of his office hiding what's going on inside and outside, only letting shadows be seen if someone's close enough. "I'll text you the invoice later, and you better fucking pay, you asshole!" She says, when she whips her head around, someone opening the glass door.
"Thanks." You tell the office lady having let you in, before your eyes widen, door closing behind you and instantly drowning out all noise except the very slight sound of the fan in the corner of the room.
"Ah, there you are." Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling a lot lighter as he looks at you. "Come here- is it still raining a lot?" He wonders easily, taking the white plastic bag from you to set it on his table, before giving you a small hug to greet you. "I think that was all you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks Evelyn, who hasn't even gotten up from her seat, instead clearly studying you now.
"Actually, no." She tells him. "And it's kind of private, so it would be real nice if your assistant would leave." She tells you with a smile that reminds you of a snarling dog.
"Then come back a different day." Jungkook answers her however, offering to take your coat from you to hang next to his own on the wall close to the large windows. "Right now I'm really not in the mood for whatever it might be. Especially not with my girlfriend in the room." He bluntly says, and something seems to flash over her face at the mention of your alleged role in his life.
She slowly stands up to take her coat from the back of the chair, movements a lot slower now, a glare sent into your direction. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart." Evelyn tells you, slipping into the sleeves of her coat. "His first love will always stay his job." She almost threatens, before she takes her purse and leaves through the door, leaving a confused you, and a clearly exhausted Jungkook behind.
"Please, sit down." He offers, and you do so, watching how he leans back in his chair, hands running over his face before he sits up again. "I'm sorry. That timing couldn't have been worse." He sighs.
"Ah, here. Do you have water here?" You wonder, and he nods, pointing towards a water dispenser in the room. "Oh, fancy." You laugh, walking up to fill a cup to put in front of him. "I take them myself, they usually help really quickly. Not trying to murder you." You tease, and he chuckles, taking the medication and the cup for himself.
"Thank you, really." He sighs out before taking the pill, washing it down with half of the cup's contents before he closes his eyes for a moment. "God I hate her so much." He suddenly breaks out laughing, before he shakes his head, digging through what you've bought for him.
"I assume that was your ex wife?" You wonder, and he nods.
"I'm also really sorry for telling her you're my girlfriend when we haven't even talked about that yet." He tells you a bit.. shyly almost, while you pull the bag closer to take something out for yourself.
"It's fine." You shrug. "Got a nice ring to it, you know?" You joke, and he smiles, starting to eat.
It's quiet, but not oddly so. He enjoys this a lot, this company without any pressure, no eerie sense of something being about to happen. You're clearly here because you want to be, there's nothing you want from him, nothing you need, nothing you could gain from this. It's just what it is, nothing else, nothing to red between the lines.
"You can ask why she was here, by the way." He offers you, wiping his mouth with a tissue.
"I don't have to know." You say, however. "It's got nothing to do with me- right?" You ask, and he nods. "Then it's none of my business. You can rant to me about it, sure, but I can't really give you any opinions on it since I don't really know her, or the situation around you and her." You tell him.
Jungkook watches you for a moment, before he nods. "You're right." He agrees, letting go of the topic entirely for now. He know it's only fair to talk to you about it at some point- but right now is not the time for that, he decides. "Do you want me to drive you home later? I really only have to answer this one E-mail and then I can clock out." He tells you between bites, wiping his fingers before he taps away on his keyboard.
"If it's not a bother, sure." You shrug. "You said you got the weekend off, right?" You ask him, and he nods a bit absentmindedly. "Then how about you stay over?" You ask, and that definitely seems to catch his attention.
"Stay over?" He asks, just to make sure he heard it correctly, and you nod.
"Yeah." You nod. "It's, you know, what boyfriends do with their girlfriends." You tease, making him roll his eyes. "We could cook something, watch a movie. Oh, and one of the lightbulbs in my kitchen broke, so maybe you could fix that for me?" You chirp, and he suddenly smiles brightly to himself, clicking something on his laptop before he shuts it down. "What's that grin for, mister?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.
"Nothing, really." He tells you. "I'm just really happy." He confesses, and you smile the same, now a bit shy.
"Well, what's your answer then?" You wonder, watching him pack the leftovers back into the bag, before he walks to get both his and your jackets, helping you into yours.
"My answer is yes." He says, voice very close to your ear as he leans over your shoulder from behind you, hands on your arms for a second. "I'd love to stay over and fix that lightbulb too, of course.-"
"Since I heard that's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends."
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"There we go." He says, slowly climbing down the plastic kitchen chair you're holding onto just in case. "Anything else while I'm here?" He genuinely asks, and you shake your head, moving the chair back to the small kitchen table.
"No, that was all. Thank you, really." You say, before you move to open the fridge, taking out some things while he stands around with his hands in his pockets. Your apartment is pretty small- living in it together with you would most likely prove to be way too much, but he still thinks it's better than his own, in terms of.. quality.
His own home feels empty. There's nothing in it, it's way too big for a single person, and the view from so high up above the clouds has long lost it's charm to him.
He sits down at the kitchen table, leaning on it a little as he watches you wash some vegetables before you grab a cutting board and a knife. "Daehyun said you're a little lonely without your dog." He says, and you giggle a little, smiling to yourself. "Have you considered getting another one?" He wonders, but you just shrug.
"I'm too busy at the moment." You deny. "I used to bring him to work with me, since he was a very quiet and calm dog, which fit perfect into our office." You remember. "He'd always sleep under my desk, right on my feet. Always kept them warm." You softly say, and he notices that he might've struck a still hurtful topic if only from the sound of your voice becoming somewhat tighter.
"I can imagine. I always wanted a dog too-" He sighs, leaning back. "But.. Evelyn, the woman you saw today, she doesn't like them. So it was out of the question."
"Really?" You wonder, cutting up the vegetables. "I mean, I guess, if both of you were really busy then it probably was for the best." You hum, tension leaving you again. "Gotta look at the bigger picture."
"Yeah, maybe it was for the best." He agrees. To be honest, Evelyn would've probably fought over the dog as well, just like she did over the apartment, and other more petty things like fucking furniture. She wanted to ruin him, if financially then emotionally, and somehow, she somewhat did.
It's quiet again, when you, surprisingly to him, cut into a topic he did not expect.
"His name was Greg." You say, filling a small pot with water before you place it on the stove, turning it on. "You probably talked about him with Taehyung."
"I did." He admits. "But there's not much I know." He offers. "And like you said about my situation, I don't have to know about things that don't concern me. However-" He begins, getting up to now stand closer, find your gaze that's turned downwards onto the cutting board. "-I don't want to accidentally do something that might make you uncomfortable due to past experiences." He says.
"What a tactful way to ask me if I've got any trauma from that guy." You chuckle, moving to put the cut up vegetables in a bowl before you continue the preparations for dinner.
"I'm trying to be gentle here." He attempts to lighten up the mood, and you indeed smile at that.
"And I'm very thankful for that." You offer him, before you sigh, setting down the knife. "I don't.. think we're at a point where I should be dumping all of what happened onto you." You inform him, and he nods, accepting that. "I don't like yelling. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll probably try and get myself out of a situation by any means necessary-" you admit, turning a little to look at him. "-and that will probably include some nasty words thrown your way, if that get's you away from me." You tell him. "And I don't like alcohol. Even if you hand me full on medical evidence that you can't even get drunk, the moment I smell it- I just can't trust you." You say, and he nods.
"Alright, I respect that." He nods.
"I'll also get pretty clingy over time." You add on, making him nod. "And I can be annoying. I'll text you a lot." You continue, and a small smile sneaks itself onto his lips as he shrugs, crossing his arms. "The moment you invite me into your home I'll practically steal half of your closet contents-"
"Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you grow quiet, eyes avoiding him. "I'm obsessed with my work." He begins his own rant, standing up to walk closer to you. "I never have time for anything else. I'm boring. Sometimes rude, and immature. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm also lazy. I snore, and I work out too much to the point where I'm sweating buckets. I'm a little messy." He tells you, hugging you from behind, though not very intimately- giving you a clear way out if you so want to.
"…is that what she told you?" You answer, and he smiles.
"Let's just agree on getting to know each other just the way we are, not the way someone else described us in the past." He offers, and you nod.
"Alright." You hum, before you push him a little playfully. "Now go and let me cook in here, boyfriend." You tease, making him grin impishly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he does not walk away from behind you, hands now flat on your ass. "Hey!"
"What? I'm out of your way like this." He tells you almost innocently, hands moving to hold your waist now.
"Sit down there and let me cook!" You laugh.
"But we wanted to cook together, no?" He wonders. "Like.. boyfriend and girlfriend." He leans his chin on your shoulder.
"Well, boyfriends let their girlfriends cook in peace." You threaten, making him chuckle as his fingers squeeze your hips a bit.
"Not if their girlfriend is this attractive." He purrs, making you roll your eyes.
"Jungkook…" You wonder, suddenly way more serious, making his stand up straight again so you can face him. "Is.. that what we are now?" You ask, and his lips part for a second, unsure of his own answer. "I mean, it's fine if we're just playing around. Just.. I'm scared that we might end up in some.. unnecessary drama down the line if we're blurring the lines too much without properly discussing things first." You say.
"What do you mean?" He asks, and you sigh.
"What if you end up calling me.. your girlfriend just as a joke? But I start believing it at some point- thinking we are something serious when we're not. Or the other way around." You explain. "I don't want us to get hurt again. Neither of us."
Jungkook takes a deep breath, and from this close proximity, you can make out two odd dots near his bottom lip you're not too sure of. You might ask him about them some other time.
"Let me take time off of work. Next week, three days." He offers, catching you off guard. "Let's go on a trip. Together. Someplace no one knows us, and we don't know either." He tells you.
"I mean- I would've had friday and the weekend off anyways but-"
"Okay, great, perfect. I'll cancel my Friday meetings." He tells you, hands moving- at first, they seem to attempt to hold your cheeks- but it's like that feels too intimate yet, so he settles for your shoulders. "Let's get to know each other. The real you and me that got.. buried at some point." He offers.
"Why on a trip?" You ask.
"Because it's perfect." He chuckles. "Close proximity of the hotel room we'll share, stress of navigating the unfamiliar environment, the tension of not being able to just 'escape' any uncomfortable situation right away forcing us to talk things out as they happen-" He begins, and your mouth shapes an 'o' as you realize what he's talking about.
"It's a stress-test." You say, and he nods, grinning.
"Exactly." He nods.
"…to be honest you're already stressing me out." You jokingly reply-
Jungkook laughing, and you have a feeling he's not done that in a long time, with the way his ears turn red and his hand covers his mouth in embarrassment of that outburst.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
When Taehyung opens the door, he instantly greets his son who Jungkook has put down the moment he'd noticed the young father arriving at the front door to let him in.
"Oh wow." Taehyung laughs as Jungkook walks in, almost nervously running a hand through his hair. "Is the world ending? Apocalypse? Or am I high?" He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes. "No, seriously! I didn't even know you could still put those piercings back in!" He laughs, taking Dae's school backpack to take out his lunchbox so he can sort out the leftovers and wrappers from his snacks.
"It was a bit tricky, I won't lie." He laughs a little. "But they didn't really close all that much since I had them for so long, so it wasn't a big deal." He shrugs.
"What's the occasion?" Tae wonders, throwing the wrappers of Daehyun's snacks in the trash. "You most certainly don't look like you're gonna go to a meeting like that. What happened to 'I'm not in my twenties anymore' huh?" He jokes.
"I'm honestly not sure." He answers, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Just.. felt like it. And I'm not going to the office- I took time off." He confesses.
"Okay, are you running a fever?" Taehyung asks, and Jungkook laughs to himself. "Are you gonna meet up with your.. friend?" He air-quotes, and Jungkook nods, checking the silver watch on his wrist.
"Yeah- we're meeting up later, she's currently packing her things last thing she texted me." He nods. "Our flight is in about three hours from now, but it's her first time flying, so we wanted to be there a bit early just in case." Jungkook shrugs.
"Oh, fancy." Taehyung laughs. "Why though?" He wonders, washing the colorful lunchbox of his son in the sink.
"Stress testing." Jungkook offers. "We just want to see if we can handle each other under pressure." He says, and Taehyung sighs.
"My god Jungkook, can you just once try and not make everything more complicated than it has to be?" He worries. "Just spend time with her. Go out for a coffee or something, watch a shitty movie at home and let her suck you off during the commercial break or something, you know, like NORMAL people!" He whines. "You're acting as if this is some million-dollar business discussion. It's really not." He huffs out in frustration. "Listen, I know Eve fucked you over bad, and honestly you've always had a shit-taste in women to begin with because holy fuck if I think back to Lucy-"
"Can you get to the point?" Jungkook complains, a little embarrassed as his friend brings up his admittedly terrible dating history.
"-yeah, sorry." He laughs. "But, trust me-" Taehyung says, drying his hands before he puts them on his friend's shoulders. "-she's honestly perfect for you. Once you help her get her confidence back up, trust me, you've got yourself someone who's not a raging cunt for once." He finishes his rant, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.
"You think?" He worries, and Taehyung nods.
"I do." He says, patting his friend's back before he leads him to his front door. "Be yourself. And I mean, your real self. Be that goofy dude who cries during disney movies and folds his laundry to Depeche Mode at 3 am."
"Why would I do that?" Jungkook cringes, thinking his friend is joking- but he's surprised to find Taehyung with a soft gaze instead, an encouraging smile on his lips.
"Because that's the Jungkook I know." He offers, a somber look on his face.
"And I miss him."
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
"Let me take that." He offers, taking the suitcase from you. It's small, scratched up, and he can't help but notice the stickers on it. "You good to go?" He wonders, and you nod, closing the door before locking it, walking next to him out the apartment building towards his by now familiar car, his own luggage already in the trunk where he puts yours now as well.
The moment you sit next to him inside, is when you notice how.. different he is today. Not only from looks alone- but it feels different, oddly enough. Lighter. Not as serious as he usually is. "I wondered what those.. spots were." You say, looking at him from the passenger side, and he raises his brows while stopping at a red light, turning his head towards you, who points to your own lower lip.
"Ah, yeah." He chuckles, a bit bashful. "I.. got them done in my early twenties. Took them out though, because.. I don't know." He shrugs.
"You don't know, of do you just realize that the reason was stupid?" You giggle, and he sighs, with a smile on his lips however.
"Caught me." He confesses, changing lanes as he makes his way to the airport.
"Why'd you put them back in?" You ask, leaning against the car door a bit.
"Because I wanted to be myself." He explains. "I.. like I said. I want you to get to know me. And not the person I became to please others around me." He tells you.
"I assume your.. ex wife didn't like the piercings?" You ask, testing how far you can pry into his past and how much you can poke until he tells you off. But much to your surprise, he seems rather unfazed by the topic.
"She hated my tattoos as well. Wanted me to get them removed constantly." He chuckles, and you're intrigued.
"You've got tattoos as well?" You ask, and he nods.
"Maybe I'll let you see them later?" He flirts, and you grin to yourself, adjusting your legs a little as you stay quiet. "Either way, Evelyn didn't like a lot about me."
"Then why did she marry you?" You ask, noticing too late how mean that question could come off.
"Probably for my bank account." He simply laughs. "I was.. stupid. I thought she was fixing me." He shakes his head. "I thought she only had my best interest in mind." He says, setting his turn lights to enter the airport parking area. "But she always hated me. Still does." He sighs, searching for a proper parking spot.
"Well, I don't hate you." You tell him.
"Yet." He mumbles, before he finally parks the car, turning off the engine. "Do you have your passport and everything on hand? Don't wanna have to unpack everything in a rush later at check-in." He tries to change the topic, but you look at him with eyes so soft that he becomes scared of them.
"Jungkook." You say his name, and he hates how kind it sounds. "As long as you're not like him, I won't hate you. Honestly, I don't even hate him." You tell him, and he nods a bit stiffly, before practically escaping the car, instead putting on his jacket before helping you take out your suitcase and handbag.
Inside the airport, he notices your nervousness, hand constantly reaching out but never holding on to him at all, in any way. It makes him chuckle a little as he watches you fight with yourself for quite a while, before he helps you check in.
You're clearly a bit overstimulated by everything going on around you, looking around anxiously, biting the inside of your lips constantly, even as you both sit down to wait for your gate to open for boarding. "Hey-" He reaches out to tug your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before he smiles in reassurance. "Okay?" He wonders, and you nod, though you're not looking at him. "Come here. You can hold onto me, by the way, if that helps you." Jungkook suggests, and you move your arms to wrap around one of his, body scooting closer to lean your face against his shoulder, sweater soft against your skin. He moves his arm around your shoulders to keep you closer, hand offering itself for you to hold instead, and you do so, fingers cold. "What's that scar?" He wonders, thumb running over a faint scar over the palm of your hand.
"A shoelace." You say, a little quietly.
"A shoelace?" He repeats, and you nod.
"Yeah." You confirm. "I had.. I was in the midst of changing the laces of.. Gregory's boots, because the dog had chewed them. But he got mad anyways, and pulled them out of my hand." You remember. "It happened really quickly, but I remember that it hurt badly." You chuckle. "It was an odd pain. Like my body couldn't decide whether or not I was burned or cut."
Jungkooks hand on your shoulder starts to move a little in a soothing motion, fingers circling around. It's his first confirmation that something did indeed happen, and he's almost convinced that what you just told him was probably not an isolated incident, but simply one of many that went down during your entire relationship.
"I didn't want him to get mad at Yogi. He already hated the poor dog enough." You sigh, closing your eyes as you settle against Jungkook's side. He enjoys this close proximity, the domestic feel of this moment, even though it's out in public and for everyone to see. He doesn't care.
"You can heal with me, you know?" He says, and you look up at him from where you're leaning against his body. "I can't promise you that.. our time spent will be all smooth sailing, but I can assure you that it will be nothing like what you've experienced." He hums towards you.
And you smile warmly, sighing. "Don't worry-" you giggle, closing your eyes.
"-It already is."
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The hotel room is spacious, expensive looking, nothing like you've seen before.
Usually, you only really get to see things like these on vacation photos your friends show you- you yourself don't really travel, you technically don't take time off at all, rather always asking to have your off-days paid out instead if possible. You've got no reason to treat yourself with anything, be it time off or a full on vacation.
Your sense of self worth has shriveled up like rotten fruit over the years, now thrown out like the garbage it is.
Jungkook meanwhile clearly has a routine in him, as he walks through every room first to check if everything's okay, just to then place his bag somewhere near the bed, a big yawn escaping him as he opens the balcony door wide, letting the air of the seaside in. It's odd to see him dressed rather casual, simple but expensive sweater stretching over his broad back. His face still shows the clear stress he's accumulated, and it makes you wonder.
"Do you.. go on vacations often?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.
"No, usually I only fly out for business trips." He explains, watching you sit on the edge of the twin-sized bed. "I originally thought I should book two single beds, by the way. I just.. thought it might be more intimate like this." He tells you, leaning against the small balcony's edge outside, glass door open, as the wind blows through the curtains a little.
"It's okay like this." You nod, making him smile softly.
"Do you want to rest a little?" He asks, and you shrug, unsure. You only have three days- if you sleep now, it's probably annoying to him since he most likely planned something on this trip for you both to do. He at least comes across as someone who likes to have everything set out and structured- not like you, who dives in head first without any real plan. You don't want him to stay hidden inside the hotel room just because you're tired from the flight. "Hey." He asks, and you didn't even notice him squatting down in front of where you sit, his hands on your knees as he finds your eyes from where he's looking up at you. "Don't hesitate to speak your mind. If we want this to work, we need honestly, first and foremost." He encourages, and you nod.
"I'm tired- but I don't want to be boring." You worry.
"How would taking a nap be boring?" he chuckles. "I'm actually glad you're tired. I didn't want to come off as an old man who needs a break because he can't keep up." He laughs, standing up before he moves to lay down on the bed, patting the spot right next to him.
You lay down where he wordlessly suggested, taking in a deep breath while focusing your eyes on the collar of his sweater for a moment. It's when your gaze roams around that you notice something poke out on his wrist as he turns back around from removing his watch from the other arm. Your fingers curiously lift the fabric of the sleeve, making him chuckle quietly, before he moves to push the fabric up to his elbow, exposing different colors of ink underneath his skin.
What was Jungkook like when he was younger? Has he always been somewhat like this- or has he changed into this instead?
"Got them done in my early twenties too." He explains quietly. "Just.. lineart at first. Black and white." Jungkook remembers as he watches you trace some of the lines with your finger. "Then it got more. Over time, it looked a little messy- so I added color to it, this time actually going to a professional who specifies in forming sleeves." He tells you.
"Do you regret them?" You wonder. "Like.. your piercings and your tattoos?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"It's not like I regret them." He denies. "I still like the look of them. The aesthetic of it. It's just.." He sighs, inked hand turning around palm up, and you put your own on top of his, making him move to compare your hand sizes palm to palm. "..they don't feel like me anymore." He shrugs.
"Maybe because they aren't." You offer, now holding his hand with both of yours, your eyes on the blurred ink underneath the skin. "Maybe.. you changed. Even though you didn't want to."
He did. He knows that he did- but what he struggles with, is the question if he can even go back now. He wants to, but at this point, he feels like he's crossed that line by now, too far to step back and take a different path. Most people around him nowadays only now this Jungkook, not the one he used to be. If he just reverts back to who he once was, will he lose every friendship and connection he's made after he married?
Marriage. The moment he changed.
Love can make someone truly blind to a lot of things. He overlooked so many warning signs, pushed old friends and even family away just because they saw what he did not- or more so refused to. He's not spoken to his own parents in years, by now too ashamed to admit that he'd been wrong for the entirety of his past relationship, that his mother was right about her. What would she think about you?
She'd like you, he's very sure about that. His father would probably be a little suspicious of the age gab, and his brother would most likely tease the living daylights out of him, but he knows you'd fit right in. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? What would they think of him?
He wants to ask you, but the moment he becomes aware and snaps out of his thoughts, your eyes are already closed, breathing even. You're still holding onto him, and he realizes that he's never actually had a moment like this with Evelyn in the past, not even when they were just a regular couple, and definitely not after they got married. He feels.. free. No pressure on him, no obligations awaiting him, nothing needed or expected from him. You're simply sleeping, and yet the act itself makes his pride swell, because of your display of trust towards him.
He knows you've been hurt. He knows that he's been hurt-
And maybe, just maybe, together, you can finally begin heal.
Change once more, for a final time, into a happier version of yourselves.
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urfavoritedcwhore · 3 months ago
Text
dinner at the lake house//henry winter x !fem!reader
smut, minors DNI!!!
warnings: swearing, over stimulation, unprotected sex, degradation, “rope” play, mention of safe word (it’s not used), let me know if i left anything out please
not proof read
lowercase intended
henry and i have had a secret romance for about five months now. it started when i stayed by his side for two straight nights, trying my best to nurse him out of one of his migraines. i had gone to the pharmacy for him, picked up his medication, hung blackout curtains on his windows, and brought him scotch and soup in efforts to get him to eat something. of course, we didn’t talk much those two days. however, in a strange way we became closer after. henry who had once been so stoned faced and reserved, invited me over for dinners three nights a week after those two rough days. over a course of a couple weeks i began to see a softer side of henry. a side that would remember my favorite tea, and be sure to pick it up for me when he was at the market. a side that patiently helped me with my greek assignments, occasionally even laughing with me when i would drink too much at dinner and switch between speaking french and english without noticing. he had pursued me. however, that’s not to say that we didn’t love eachother the same amount. it was a deep love. a love we had both had in our hearts from the moment we saw each other in greek class. a love that had finally been spoken of aloud after those few weeks of diners at his house. however, the past few days have been difficult due to minor agruments between henry and i. nothing big really. he tends to get snappy with me if i bother him while he works, which causes me to get snappy with him. this morning, francis had rang henry and told him we all were going down to the lake house at four pm, after our classes. when i awoke, henry told me the plan. i agreed, and went back to my dormitory so it wouldn’t seem as if we were walking to class together. i’m sure everyone has they’re suspicions about us, but neither of us really want to come right out and admit our relationship. due to the constant ridicule im sure bunny would put us under for no reason, we both have decided it’s just better to keep our private life private. after greek class i go back to henry’s apartment to pack a small bag to take with me to the lake house. most of my clothes live there now, after he insisted it would be easier to bring them over instead of running back and forth from his house to my dormitory. when i arrive i find him studying his books at the kitchen table, his trousers lose with no belt, his button up halfway undone, and the jacket of his suit draped along the back of the chair. i quietly walk to his room and pack my bag, along with a small one for him. i hear the telephone ring and quickly run to the living room to answer it before it could disturb henry. i want today to be a good day for us, a day where no one’s in a bad mood. i pick up the phone, “hello?”, i say softly into the receiver. “y/n? i thought i rang henry.”, i hear charles’ voice say confused. i quickly make something up, “no no, you did. i’m over at henry’s. he’s helping me with the greek assignment julian gave us today. he’s just in the washroom. what would you like me to tell him when he gets out?”, i ask kindly. “well actually i was going to ring you after i spoke to henry and tell you that francis, camila, and i are about to leave to go to pick up henry, then come to campus to collect you, bunny, and richard. i suppose we can just collect you at henry’s though? do you have your bag with you?”, he spoke with a soft friendly voice, i’ve aways loved that about charles. “actually, yes i do. i figured that you may come for henry while i was over here and brought it with me.”, i tell him. “perfect. we should be there in about fifteen minutes.”, he says. “alright, thank you charles. i’ll let henry know when he comes out.”, i tell him glancing over at henry, who’s still engulfed in his book.
charles and i say our goodbyes and i hang up the phone. i turn to henry and walk over behind the chair he’s sitting in, lightly placing my hands on his shoulder. “the twins and francis are coming to collect us.”, i say softly as i gently rub my hands up and down his shoulders. “hm? oh, one moment darling, i must finish this translation.”, he says back to me in a low, mumbling voice. i wonder if i should leave him be, but i know that most likely none of the words i’ve said to him have actually been heard by him. when he’s in his studying mode, he rarely hears anything anyone is saying to him. “love, they’ll be here soon.”, i say trying to get my point across to him. “i heard you the first time, i wish you wouldn’t bother my whilst i work. i’ve told you this many times.”, he says in a agitated voice. “fine. don’t be upset with me when they show up and you’re not dressed. i’m just trying to help.”, i say annoyed at his tone, releasing my hands from his shoulders. i walk over the couch, grabbing my book and begin to read. “you can be irritated with me, i’m only telling you what i’ve told you a million times.”, i hear henry get up from his chair and the slight ruffle of fabric, which i assume is him buttoning up his shirt. i don’t turn around to look at him, “i was simply trying to help.”, i say annoyed, my eyes not leaving my book. i hear him chuckle quietly, “you get incredibly frustrated over these things for no good reason dear.”, he says in a cocky tone. i decide that if i respond it will only escalate the situation. i silently continue reading my book. after about five more minutes of reading, there’s a knock on henry’s door. “coming!”, i say as i go into henry’s room to get my bag. i see henry in his room putting on a belt, and walk right past him. i pick up my bag, “give me a kiss darling. i know you’re frustrated with me, but i won’t be able to kiss you again until i come to your room late tonight.”, henry says catching my arm when i begin to walk out of the bedroom. even though i in fact am still frustrated, i look up at him and stand on the tips of my toes, placing a small kiss on his lips. he smiles as i drop down to the flats of my feet. “let’s go.”, i tell him walking out of the room. i answer the door and follow francis to his car, henry trailing behind us. we get in the car and say hello to our friends before driving to campus to retrieve edmund and richard. the drive is long and particularly difficult due to the fact that bunny is constantly talking about random subjects to which he knows nothing about. we arrive at the lake house at 7:15pm. the weekends are almost always spent at the lake house. richard on the boat with francis, the twins playing croquet with bunny, henry drinking a glass of scotch while studying on the porch, and me reading my book in the small hammock that hang between two trees in the front yard. since we arrive at dinner time i decide to go into the kitchen and make us all dinner. henry follows, sitting at the dining table, opening his book back up and reading. the twins, along with bunny and richard, go into the library. this leaves francis in the kitchen with me, helping me prepare dinner. we make a roast and vegetables from the supplies the housekeepers stocked the fridge for us with. dinner take about two hours, which is no problem since we all are accustomed to eating late. when francis and i finish making dinner, he leaves the kitchen to get the others. still slightly annoyed at our small argument from early, i look over to henry at the table. “dinner is ready…or should i not disturb you with that information.” , i say over the counter to him nonchalantly. he looks up from his book. as he opens his mouth to say something, everyone piles into the kitchen. he gives me an agitated glance and closes his book as i bring the food to the table. everyone takes their seats and begins to put food on their plates as i i sit in the seat across from henry.
“pourquoi continuez-vous à vous comporter comme un enfant.”, henry asks me, knowing no one will understand what he’s saying since we’re the only ones who speak fluent French. “je ne sais pas de quoi tu parles.”, i say back to him, not looking up from the peice of roast on my plate i’m cutting. “as-tu besoin d'être baisé ou quelque chose comme ça”, he asks me with shaking his head with a low cocky chuckle. i look up, shocked at his words, and realize everyone is looking at us confused. “henry’s helping me with my french. he says it will help to speak it randomly.”, i lie to them. “ohhh okay.”, camila says with a smile, and continues her conversation with richard, as everyone else resumes their own conversations. “je ne sais pas, est-ce que je”, i shoot back to him in a calm voice, to not draw attention from the others. “je pense que tu en as besoin”, he says raising his eyebrows at me. camila nearly chokes on her water, henry and i turn to her simultaneously. “Camila tu parles français ?”, i say to her suspiciously. she laughs softly, “je parle assez pour savoir ce que vous dites”, she says shifting her eyes between us with a grin. henry and i look at each other shocked. “ne t'inquiète pas, je ne le dirai pas aux autres”, she says in a genuine tone. bunny chimes in, “what are you three weirdos talking about?”, he asks with a mouthful of food. camila and i let out a small laugh. “we’re just talking about our days bun, i promise your not missing anything interesting.”, camila says to him with a sweet smile. i look back at henry, “nous pourrons en parler après le dîner”, i say with a cocky smile. camila giggled, “non, s'il te plaît, parle-en maintenant, je suis intrigué”, she says looking at me with big smirk. henry turns towards me, “nous pouvons en discuter dans votre chambre ce soir.”, he says before looking back down at his plate with a red face. “es-tu gêné ?”, i ask him with a laugh. “non, mais si je continue à parler, tu pourrais l'être”, he warns me looking up and lifting his eyebrows at me. “try me.”, i say in English to him, smiling and rolling my eyes. “continue d'agir de cette façon et je te baiserai si fort que toute la maison t'entendra pleurer mon nom.”, he says with a slight irritated smile while shaking his head. camila looks at me with wide eyes, “i think im going to get a bottle of scotch, you two continue the conversation without me.”, she tells us leaving the table and walking into the kitchen. i look back at henry, taunting him, “chérie, je ne crois pas que tu le feras vraiment, je pense que tu seras simplement le gentleman que tu es toujours. trop peur de me baiser comme un vrai homme.”, i say to him with a disbelieving laugh. he looked at me almost offended by my words before he leans back in his chair, “i suppose we’ll see won’t we.”, he returns with a shrug. he pulls out a cigarette from the pack he kept in his jacket pocket and sticks one in his mouth, lighting it as he did so. camila walks back to the table holding a bottle of scotch, “i suggest we all have a drink and go off to bed.”, she says to everyone, giving me a small wink. “i suppose i am quite exhausted.”, richard says as he lets camila fill up his glass. everyone fills up their glasses, drinks their scotch, and departs the table one by one. camila, henry, and i are left by ourselves at the table. camila looked around to make sure no one was lurking behind us before she spoke, “everyone assumes you two are together, but i always figured it was just gossip. how long have you two been seeing eachother?”, she asks curiously. henry speaks up before i can, “about five months.”, he says sipping his scotch. i pour another glass for myself as camila begins to speak, “you hide it quite well. i think the others are only a bit suspicious because of the looks you give to each other in julian’s class. although, francis swears up and down he came to your apartment one day to grab a book, and saw a brassiere.”, she says looking at henry.
i look up at henry and laugh, “i told you giving him a key was a mistake.”, i say shaking my head before taking a long sip of my drink. “ we’re luckily it was him and not bunny, i suppose. he would’ve told the whole school.”, henry says shaking his head. “don’t worry, francis didn’t tell anyone but me. even if he did i highly doubt they would believe him.”, camila says to me with a small giggle. she yawns and glances at her watch, “i should get to bed. i told francis i would share a room with him tonight. he gets quite frightened sleeping alone in this house. he swears that he’ll breathe in too much dust and choke while he’s sleeping. a bit ridiculous but well, you know how he is.”, she says standing up. “goodnight camila.”, henry and i tell her as she walks away up the stairs. “goodnight!”, she calls back as she continues to walk. henry looks at me, “go to your room, strip to your undergarments, and wait for me while i finish my scotch.”, he says in a quiet voice. “if you insist.”, i say downing the rest of my my drink, swallowing it with a gulp. “i do.”, he tells me tracing his finger around the edge of his glass while he stares into my eyes. i get up and walk to my room, glancing behind me to see henry watching me as he sips his scotch.
i arrive to my room, closing my door behind me and stripping to my undergarments as he told me to do. i wait for five minutes before deciding to grab my book and read while i wait for him. i’m finishing the chapter of the book i’m reading when i hear my door open with a quiet click. i look up and see henry smoking a cigarette and standing in front of my door. he takes a long drag and exhales the smoke before speaking. “did you enjoy acting like a brat today y/n?”, he asks as he slowly takes off his the jacket of his suit and putting the cigarette out on the ashtray that sits atop my dresser. “did you enjoy acting like a dick today henry?”, i ask with a small annoyed laugh. he walks over to my bed, pushing my hair behind my ears and holding my face. he brings his face close to mine, smiling, as if he’s going to kiss me, but passes my lips at the last moment to whisper in my ear. “don’t swear darling, it’s not attractive.”, he says before moving his head down to my neck, planting small kisses on it. normally i would shoot back a remark about how his arrogance isn’t attractive, but his lips on my neck melt me into a state of bliss. i hum softly as he disconnects from my neck and stands up straight, to look at me from above. “now what am i to do about that nasty attitude of yours?”, he asks smirking at me almost evilly. i open my mouth to respond but before i can he speaks again, “that was a rhetorical question dear, i know exactly how i’m going to handle it.”, he says bringing cupping my face in his hand and rubbing my check with his thumb. “take off my belt.”, henry says to me in a commanding voice. i decide to do what im told and remove his belt. as soon as its free from the last loop of his trousers he snatches it from my hands. “now place your wrists together.”, he tells me as he continues to look down on me. “why?”, i ask innocently, although i know exactly why he wants me to do this. he looks at me and chuckles to himself before grabbing both my wrists in one hand and pressing them together. he quickly loops the belt around my wrists, pulling it tight with his free hand. i look up at him half amused and half startled, “that’s awfully tight, i can’t imagine why you choose to tie my hands together.”, i say teasing him. he doesn’t respond, he simply pushes me flat against the bed, walks to the end of the mattress, and places himself on it crawling towards me slowly. once he reaches my legs he grabs them forcefully, spreading the open. i let out a soft gasp from how tight his grip on my thighs are. he trails his left hand up and down my inner thigh, keeping his right hand firmly gripping my other thigh. he stops right before reaching my underwear, trailing his fingers back down my thigh. “i’m trying to decide if i want to not let you cum at all, or make you cum multiple times.”, he says staring at my clothed pussy. “do you deserve to cum tonight?”, he says shifting his eyes to me. my core is so neglected from his teasing that i drop any ounce of brattiness left in my body, and begin to nod my head frantically as i prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him. he laughs, “you were so full of words at dinner tonight, can you not speak anymore darling?”, he says before straightening his face and using a more serious deep tone, “lay back down.”. i release myself from my elbows and fall back against the mattress. “now answer me with words, do you deserve to cum?”,. he repeats before pressing soft kisses up and down my thighs. “yes”, i say practically moaning. “are we going to continue to be bratty?”, he asks disconnecting his lips from my thighs, and stroking his index finger up and down my clothed slit. my thoughts jumble as i try to answer. henry has never acted this way before, he usually is such a gentleman when you two sleep together. “no”, i say as my breath hitches. “good answer darling, now, je veux que tu me surveilles.”, he says standing up from the bed and removing his trousers along with his button up . i do what im told and prop myself up against the head board, using my elbows to wiggle my way up.
henry laughs at my struggle as he climbs back on the the bed, reaching over and unclipping my bra, throwing it to the ground. “lift your hips.”, he says as he hovers above me, his knees on either side of mine. i lift my hips and he pulls down my underwear in one swift motion, “open.”, he says nodding to my mouth. confused, i open my mouth suspiciously. before i can even realize what’s going on, my balled up underwear are in my mouth as a gag. he smiles looking down at me, still straddling me without our body’s touching. my exposed pussy lays on the bed begging for touch. i watch him as he slowly begins to pull his hardened cock out of the slit of his boxers. i grow excited waiting for him to penetrate me, but instead he quickly swipes one hand up my slit, collecting my wetness. his hand moves so fast i wouldn’t have even known he touched me if i wasn’t looking so intensely at him. he takes the hand he used to collect my slick with, and begins rubbing himself up and down with it. i moan into my underwear at the sight of this glorious man. he looks as if he is a stone cut out of a greek god. his muscles prominent, he’s forehead glowing with sweat, and his eyes hungry with desire. i struggle trying to buck my hips up to catch friction with him. “oh no baby, not yet, your gonna have to wait like a good girl.”, he says raising himself up higher and leaving my hips only connected with the air. he laughs when he sees the pained look on my face, “are you mad your getting consequences to your actions darling? would you rather me fuck you like a gentleman?”, he asks still stroking himself as he looks down at me. i desperately reach down to my core to touch myself but he grabs my arms restraining them back against my chest, “you do that again duchess, and you’ll sleep with those fucking restraints on.”, he spits at me his teeth clenched. my face turns a bright red, i feel as if im a student being scolded at school. i think this might be the only time i’ve ever heard henry swear in English. i leave my hands against my chest as i continue to moan into my underwear while he strokes himself. the aching in my untouched core is so strong i feel as if i might cry. “if i take these out of your mouth,”, he motions to the underwear, “i don’t want to hear whining. all i want to hear are begs for me, understand?”, he says with a raised eyebrow. i nod frantically as he reaches and pulls the bundle up panties from my mouth. i look at him with awe for a moment as he parts his lips to let out a groan from the feeling of his hand rubbing his dick. “are you going to start begging or should i put these back in your mouth?”, he says holding up the underwear when he notices my silence. my mouth moves faster than my brain and my words form into one gigantic word, “please henry i’m so sorry for being bratty today, please let me feel you, please touch me, please let me touch you, please give me anything.”, i beg as his face glimmer with a cocky smile. “if you say so.”, he shrugs his shoulders and pushes his entire length into me without warning. my face contorts as i moan in all but a scream. he leaves himself buried inside of me as he pulls my legs down, making my body drop flat to the mattress, his following mine down. “fuck!”, i moan as i feel his length stretching me. he stays unmoving inside of me, “no no, i only want to hear pretty words come out of that pretty mouth, okay?”, he says looking into my eyes. “henry please move, please move.”, i beg as my body craves the motion he’s restricting me from. “i want you to say, ‘yes sir henry, only pretty words will come out of my pretty slutty mouth.’ first.”, he tells me turning his head sideways and smirking at my pain. “yes sir henry, only pretty words will come out of my pretty slutty mouth.”, i whimper before connecting my lips with his neck ,frantically trying to make him move. “ok darling, i hear you.”, he says before pounding in and out of me as fast as humanly possible.
i moan as i feel his dick hitting the sweet spot inside of me, “it’s so good henry”, i say as he groans. he brings his hand up to my clit, rubbing small circles around it.“i want you to count out loud how many times you cum.”, he says as he continues pounding into me. the looks of his beautiful face, along with his words and the pleasure he’s making me feel, bring me to the edge. he sees my face start to contort as he continues rubbing me and hitting my g-spot. “count it.”, he tells me. the bottom of my stomach releases its knot and i feel a wave of pleasure run over my body. “one”, i moan, dragging out the word as i ride out my high. henry doesn’t even slow down. he continues ramming inside of me, the slaps of our skin echoing in my room. i feel slight pain mixed with my pleasure as my pussy throbs with sensitivity. “henry i-”, he cuts me off, “no. if you really need me to stop say red. i’m not stopping until i hear that word or until i cum.”, he spits at me fiercely. through these words and the pleasure of my last high still wearing down, i feel the knot in my stomach tightening again. “your so pretty when your getting the brattiness fucked out of you y/n.”, he says as he grips my left breast, lightly pinching my nipple. the knot in my stomach releases again and my back arches as i feel the second wave of pleasure roll over my body. “two!”, i practically scream in pleasure. i feel henry’s thrusts getting sloppy and ignore the over stimulation in my pussy as i clench around him. “Putain!”, he moans in french before grabbing my face with his hand. “i want you to look at me while i cum. better yet, i want you to cum with me one last time.”, he says smirking at me as groans. i concentrate on his face and the thoughts of all the things he’s said to me tonight. and before i can even tell that i’m about to cum, he says sharply, “now.”, i feel him spill into me as my body contorts with pleasure, my legs shaking and my fists clenching. we both moan loudly as he rides out his high inside of me. after a few more seconds inside of me, he pulls out and collapses beside me. “is your attitude gone?”, he asks sitting up and grabbing my pack of cigarettes from the bedside table. i nod in a loss of words for what i just experienced. he chuckles at my response, “good darling. now come here.”, he says holding his arms open, a cigarette hanging between his teeth. i sit up and immediately collapse back down into his arms and onto his chest. “remember that next time you want to act like a brat, i’m not gonna allow you to cum at all. tonight was your one free pass”, he whispers as he lights the cigarette.
A/N: WOOO SHES DONEEE. ok so if yall fw this i will certainly do more henry winter smuts
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howlsofbloodhounds · 2 months ago
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Is yugo a proshipper/neutral? Genuine question because they’ve done some… questionable things in the past (shipping frans, using slurs they can’t claim in a comic (the f slur).
I mean I came across a post that said they were pretty chill with someone shipping epic with freaking Xgaster in march of this year and I was like??????? (Dude?? 1. That guy is an alternate version of your abusive father. 2. He’s basically Cross’s father (y’know your canonical best friend?)  who also abused by him. like what????)
(here the link btw https://www.tumblr.com/yugogeer012/745992208927293440/im-very-interested-in-how-yugo-reacts-to-the-fact?source=share )
And I find it weird that they seem to chill about that, but if you try and bring up epic in any way possible they lose it since they have unbridled hatred towards him and his fans. (bonus points when someone talks about shipping epic and cross, heck shipping epic with anyone male tends to make them annoyed, despite some early art depicting epic FLIRTING WITH METTATON) 
(also here the link: https://www.tumblr.com/sanicpluushy/761634810556039168/can-we-see-epicsans-flirtin-i-do-imagine?source=share ,
and my thoughts : https://www.tumblr.com/talonsirgo/761779011986800640/this-is-even-funnier-when-you-scroll-down-to?source=share)
I'm pretty sure they wiped Epic and his papyrus out of the comic just so they wouldn't have to deal with them anymore.
At this point i've already blocked them for their hostility towards all things epic/epic being gay/shipping him with xgaster and the whole frans stuff. I mean dude, even comyet is grossed out by anyone trying to ship ink with a gaster or his fathers (who are gasters and aren't even related by blood. Not that it matter tho, it's stil gross).
Come on yugo. You're better than this
(oooh btw did you se my where i @ you?? I found some pretty interesting analysis on cross thats been agreed upon by jakie herself, unfortunately it was done by the creator of dreamswap eugh.)
I don’t know if they are or not, because shipping Frans (or used to) and using f slurs while they actively seem to really really hate any gay ships but is very okay with lesbian ships seems a little strange. Potentially fetishizing perhaps, although maybe they’re just annoyed if they were constantly bombarded with sans x sans questions and stuff.
I don’t know Yugo, haven’t finished reading any of the Epictale content and i haven’t scrolled all through the blog, so I can’t say for sure. Maybe someone with more knowledge on this can chime in.
Although, after reading one of the links you sent me, i think you might’ve misread something.
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The asker and yugo didn’t say they shipped Epic x XGaster or were okay with that, they say were okay with Epic Gaster x XGaster. No alternative sons being shipped with alternative fathers, although DILFs (im using this word just because they are both fathers not because i personally want to fuck them 💀) who are the same person are being shipped and yugo at least doesn’t mind or doesn’t care.
I don’t know what their issue is with their own characters and people liking them, but I think yugo probably needs to set some boundaries with fans if they haven’t already.
rather than getting annoyed when people inevitably ship best friends and one of them is their character who they make flirt with men, perhaps they should just ask people to not send them questions about sans x sans ships, or crepic if it really makes them that uncomfortable. and if anyone does, just delete the asks or comments or reblogs.
getting annoyed when people bring up or ask about the characters you made seems pretty strange to me, it’s just a sign that people really like your character enough to be obsessed with them, but i can understand if they got annoyed if epic was all anyone focused on and not any of the other characters. but in that case, they should probably just delete anything they get about epic (from fans) they don’t want to see or answer.
but to allow your emotions and fans like of your character to cause you to change a story, or erase or get rid of the character, just to spite the fans/character or just so you don’t have to deal with them seems very odd to me. perhaps yugo needs to take a step back from the Epictale “fanbase” and stop engaging with it.
they can’t control what fans do with their work and characters as soon as it leaves their own eyesight, and they’d be better off not stressing over it. and fans should respect them, and stop bringing fandom stuff to them like ships or asking their opinions on ships—no one needs a creator’s opinion on a ship.
epic is a different thing, since he’s literally a character in the story, and a sans at that—which of course means people will bring him up and ask about him. if they don’t want to answer anything about epic, they should make that very clear and then don’t answer. Not answer just to give annoyed, passive aggressive replies. I think it’s sad when creators allow a fanbase to taint and affect their feelings about their work.
{ @talonsirgo }
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neohoestechnology · 1 month ago
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Hi! I'm the Draco anon and really liked the moodboard and headcanons you did for him! I was wondering if you maybe could do one for Severus too? Like, in his Hogwarts years. Anyway, love your writing 🥰🫶🏻
plz you're too sweet 😫🤍 I was so anxious about the draco request and I thought I didn't do it right, but I'm so happy you liked it!
☆ Severus Snape Moodboard & Headcanons ☆
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oh boy, where do I begin?
I kinda saw this request coming ngl, I hope you like it 🫠🥹
well, we can all agree that Mr Big Nose is not a talkative person at all, that's why I reckon that the first time you meet him was actually by accident
It was raining like never before, everything around you was gray and blurry and it was so, so cold. You knew there was a porch right around the corner, just a few seconds separated you from your safe, dry shelter. You kept running with an arm around your books and the other hand just above your eyes, trying to discern those gloomy silhouettes all around you. Well, it didn't work that well. A loud thud was heard and it echoed through walls, your books were suddenly on the floor and a pale hand was already following to pick them up. A tall, black-haired boy was standing right in front of you. There was no anger on his face. His eyes scanned your figure. They looked kind, but his features seemed sad. 'Are you okay?' he asked while handing your books back. Your eyes met, and his expression softened for a fraction of a second...
Literally the ray of sunshine and grumpy, scary black cat couple
He has one soft spot only, and it's you
Literally can't say no to you
Walking down the corridor next to him blessed you with the 'weirdo's weird friend' nickname, but honestly you couldn't care less
He knew you were the one since the day you met 🥹
He's NOT a fan of pda, but he'd let you hold his pinky finger while getting to class if you really wanted
His hair is prettier than yours sorry not sorry
Please braid his hair
Library study dates
He'd become so peevish and grumpy if you told him to go eat something after his six hours study marathon, only to lift the corner of his lips and try to hide a subtle smile when you attempt to shove a piece of toast in his mouth
'I'm perfectly fine'  'You're gonna faint you dumb idiot'
Did you know that men with big noses... tend to have... a massive...
...heart🙃
He'd make you a flower ring while sitting on the grass and talking about some dumb classmates
You're a smart-ass duo for sure
He'd cover your shoulders with his coat at the first waft of cold air that brushes against your face
You know each other like the back of your hand
He'd help you with any subject you might have trouble with. You would offer your knowledge about astronomy, but he seemed to like looking at you more than looking at the stars 🥹😭
He'd read you books and stuff, but he secretly prefers when you do it
I think that's all 😁
Love you, B. 💗🤸🏻‍♀️
I do not possess any of these photos, all credits go to the owners.
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arabellasleopardcoat · 9 months ago
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Pyrite - Final Chapter: Valonqar
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Series Masterlist
Chapter Summary: Daemon gets to know the joys of quarantine and faces conflicting feelings in the hours after Otto's and Mellos’ execution.
Warnings: Execution (Via beheading) Mentions of abortion. Mentions of physical violence. Dub con (Reader is given a choice but due to the nature of the power imbalance between Daemon and her, she doesn't really have one)Implied smut. Unhappy ending for anyone except Viserys.
A/N: I am sorry to the requester, I deviated a bit. But we are done!!!!
Daemon grabbed you by the arm and dragged you towards his chambers. He was not happy about being on babysitting duty, but he knew it was the only thing they could do. Without his protection, you would not last a day out there. He had been able to read the truth from your face after just one conversation. Otto Hightower was much more shrewd than him, you would break in seconds.
He supposed Aemma could keep you in her rooms and prevent the scandal. But privately, Viserys had confessed he feared she had gone mad with grief. He did not trust her to be in the same room as you without clawing your eyes out. Daemon did not understand her actions, since you had tried to help her, but he wasn't a mother either. Aemma seemed traumatized by her child's death.
She cursed your name for having your letter arrive too late. Daemon was not a woman. Nor did he presume to know the mind of one, but it seemed a little unfair. You had looked out for her at your own risk, yet Aemma still wanted more.
Viserys could not keep you, either. He was too afraid for his reputation, now that he was about to become a King. What would people think of a servant girl being kept in his rooms?
He didn't admit it, of course, saying that he was only looking out for your honor, but Daemon could tell that Viserys lusted for the throne. Now that he was so close, that he had lost so much on his quest for it, he was not going to lose it for an insignificant girl.
If he truly cared for your reputation, Viserys would have never agreed to keeping you in Daemon's chambers. Who would marry you, after? Everyone knew what Daemon liked, after all. Young maidens, all soft limbs and cute little faces, all for him to ruin. What commoner would want you after being a Prince's whore?
He wasn't planning on touching you, at first. But the way you looked up at him, all frightened eyes, while sitting on one of his chairs, made his cock twitch with interest.
You were a pretty crier. It was something Daemon had noticed when you were discovered. Your eyes would get glassy, and your lower lip would stick out in the slightest pout. You looked good enough to eat.
He could not wait to see you cry on his cock. But if he acted too soon, you would hate him for it. And they needed to be in your good graces so you didn't do anything stupid on the trial.
It was going to be hard, Daemon thought, as he took a look at your face. Aemma had done a number on you, and his retrieval hadn't been entirely gentle either.
You sniffled, pitifully. Daemon kneeled in front of you with a sigh.
“Let me look at your head.”
You gave him a distrustful look.
“I am not going to hurt you. I want to tend to your injuries.” He explained, patiently.
“For some reason, I don't believe you.” You frowned. “Give me a cloth and I can do it myself, Prince Daemon.”
Daemon fought the urge to laugh. Who did you think you were, ordering him around? Instead, he grabbed a cloth and a pitcher of water, and brought them over to you.
You wiped your hands and face with it. Daemon watched, aware that you would not be able to clean the wound on your head on your own. You tried regardless, dabbing a clean cloth over your scalp, trying to reach blindly for the spot that was oozing blood.
He kept his eyes on you, not interfering until you were visibly frustrated.
“Do you need help?”
“No.” You glared, rubbing at your scalp harshly. Daemon stepped closer and took the cloth from you, ignoring your indignant squeaks. He assessed the damage to the back of your skull.
Your hair, braided back as it was, was matted with blood. He was unable to see much, but it seemed to have stopped flowing.
“I will unbraid your hair to look at the wound.” Daemon warned, and started taking your braid apart.
You went very still on your chair, as he untangled sticky hair strands from each other. Your braid was simple, but well constructed. It was clear that you knew quite a bit about how to do your own hair, considering the softness of it. It didn't feel like the hair of any other commoner Daemon had ever felt before. A shame it was caked in blood. He would have to ensure you got a bath soon.
As he parted your hair, shifting it in different directions, he noticed the small laceration on your skull. Nothing was showing through it, not even bone. Daemon knew that was a good sign. It was sizable enough to merit stitches, though.
“I will need to sew this. Do you need milk of the poppy?” He asked, as he went to collect thread and needle from his vanity. A Maester should be the one doing this, and he doubted he had the necessary qualifications to do so, but at the moment, Daemon had no other choice. He didn't trust anyone.
“Do you even know how to sew wounds, my Prince?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. It was a fair question, had he not been a squire a few years back. Daemon had earned his knighthood not so long ago, and he still vividly remembered his training.
“I am a knight, girl.” Daemon rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he styled his name with the title, like some other cunts did, but he still was one. “Do you know what that means?”
“That you are supposed to uphold your oaths, my Prince?” And oh, how sweet. You truly were a naive little thing. It was no wonder you had charged into danger as you had, if you still believed in that bullshit. To Daemon, knights were just like any other men. No more honorable nor more just. Oaths could be broken, after all.
“Yes. But also that I was a squire. I have sewn a few wounds before, including my own.” But never a head wound, he thought to himself. Ah, what you did not know wouldn't hurt you. If he told you, you would insist on a Maester. Daemon couldn't risk it. No one could know you were here.
“I rather be awake, my Prince.”
“Suit yourself.” He stepped behind you and pressed down on your nape, getting you to lower your head. Daemon made sure you were still before starting sewing.
With each pass of the needle, you tensed more. It was a foolish thing to do, only increasing your pain.
“Don't tense. The pain is worse like that.” He advised, and kept at it. You obeyed, forcing your body to relax. It still looked like you were sitting rigidly on the chair, but you weren't clenching your jaw any longer.
As Daemon progressed, he kept a close eye on your reactions. Knuckles turning white against the armchair, breath coming out in pained little sounds. But no tears fell. Had you cried them all already? Or were you too proud to show your pain to him?
With you unmoving, it was not difficult to finish your stitches. He took a step back, admiring the white thread decorating your skull. It contrasted harshly against the red of your blood. Daemon felt oddly proud of it.
“You can have the bed tonight.” He grumbled, annoyed. Why did he feel the need to help you, suddenly? Playing nice was one thing, but why was he feeling bad? It had only been a hit to the back of the head. He had done much worse when dueling men. Drew more blood, severed more limbs. Even took their lives.
But you were a woman. A girl, really. Around his age, and vulnerable to the world. It felt uncomfortably like hurting a child. Why? What made you special? He had taken quite a few maidenheads already, and not even then he had felt like this. You looked like a wounded bird.
“What if I get blood on your sheets?”
“The servants are used to it.” The joke felt flat on his tongue. He gave you a wink, but his heart wasn't in it. Daemon could not stand another second in this room with you, reeking of pain and staring at him with those betrayed eyes. Better to head out and hit the city. He needed to numb himself. And by the time you were up, he would just be getting in.
Daemon allowed you to exist undisturbed in his room for almost a week. He provided water for you to bathe, and fresh clothes for you to change into. The routine stayed the same. He went out at night, and you slept in his bed. When you woke, you had to get out of it and entertain yourself so he could sleep.
He usually enjoyed a night out. But the constant whoring and drinking was beginning to tire him, especially since it was affecting his training. There were only so many brothels he could visit before noticing he was unsatisfied with the stock their carried because not one of them looked like you.
Ugh. The urge to fuck you was messing with his head, making him unfocused. Daemon had actually lost a sparring match this week, but he was unsure if it was from a lack of sleep or being plagued by thoughts of you.
He needed to get you out of his system. He had enough. You no longer looked like a wounded little bird. It was time to make his move.
That night, Daemon decided to skip the brothels. He sat on his bed, freshly bathed after training, and just watched you stew.
You were sitting on a pillow in the corner of his room, some books spread out around you. They were part of his small collection on Valyrian herbs. You were wearing your night shift already, and sneaking glances at him every few minutes.
He was breaking your unspoken arrangement, you sure thought. Daemon was supposed to leave so you could sleep. A shame it was not happening tonight.
“Girl.” He said, once he had enough of watching you squirm. “Pour me a glass of wine.”
You looked at him. You gave an annoyed little huff. Even if you did not dare voice it, Daemon could see the protest in your eyes. You were not used to serving men, from what he could tell. Nor were you used to serving wine. You thought yourself above those tasks, one of those fancy handmaidens that only brush hair and run baths.
And it showed. Sure, you were tidy and didn't make a mess of his rooms, but you didn't help either. You had not reached for a broom in your whole stay, or dusted anything. If he wasn't a tidy person, the place would be as unsanitary as a cheap brothel.
It had never bothered him before, not being able to call for a servant to clean his rooms. But it now did. He tried not to think very hard about why that was. It didn't mean anything. Your presence did not upset him. He was just bothered by the fact that you were like a leech.
Daemon had no use for you. His space was being invaded by a girl with unsettling eyes, who acted as if this was her prison and did not contribute at all. Anyone would be bothered by it. Right?
Anyone would be done with it. Daemon would rather behead Otto and end it all. But apparently, you could not just behead one of your subjects, or everyone started talking about Maegor the cruel.
“I do not have any use for a commoner.” Daemon stated, plainly. He advanced towards you, grasping your chin in his hand. “Do you understand what will happen to you if I kick you out?”
“I'll die.” Your voice shook. Daemon scowled. He didn't like the thing that you were doing with your eyes.
“Then you best try to please me, right?” He ran his thumb over your cheek. “Wouldn't want me to hand you over.”
You shook your head. You went and poured him his wine.
“I don't like your eyes.” Daemon said, impatiently. “Try to smile more.”
You gave him a weak smile. It set the tone for the rest of your interactions. You were a clumsy cup bearer, and took badly to sleeping on the floor. Daemon had to constantly snap at you to wipe the sad look from your face. It looked ugly, and the only good thing you had to your favor were your looks. That was why his stomach twisted when he caught you thinking of home or your family.
When the day of the trial came, you looked relieved. You managed to give your testimony without any issue, and his grandfather ruled in their favor. Aemma gets her revenge, with the King allowing Viserys to bring the head of Ser Otto and Mellos to his wife. He can't bring himself to do it, so it's Daemon who swings the sword instead.
Otto Hightower kneels for his execution with great grace. He sends Daemon a glare, but doesn't say a word. Mellos, on the other hand, screams and pleads all the way up the steps to the block.
Daemon gets a sick sort of satisfaction when he sees them both kneeling at his feet. Is this what being King feels like? He wonders, as he shares a secret smile with Aemma, who stands in the first row of the crowd. The power to hurt those who have wronged you.
Next to Aemma, you stand. You look pale and fidgety, but the grip she has in your arm prevents you from escaping. It's only fair, she had said, that you get to witness the King's justice you helped bring. You don't seem excited about it.
“Any last words?” Daemon asks, as he unsheathes Dark Sister.
“Please, don't, this has been a mistake!” Mellos screams. Daemon waits patiently. When nothing more than incoherent sobs come out from his mouth, Daemon glances up at his grandfather.
King Jaehaerys looks grim, but determined. He nods. Daemon takes Mellos’ head with one clean swoop of his sword. The head rolls into the basket with straw, preventing the blood from running everywhere. The eyelids still move. The crowd gasps, and Daemon feels strangely empty.
“I am ready for my last words now.” The Hightower cunt says, with a firm voice. Daemon can't help be both annoyed and impressed by it. Most men, like Mellos, would be shitting themselves in fear. But Ser Otto remains calm and regal, even when he knows he is about to face death.
“Speak.”
“Good pious people, I have come here to die, for according to the law and by the law I am judged to die. I do not wish to accuse any man or woman, for if the King says I am to die, I shall. I only ask that my actions are judged fairly in the years to come, and no harm comes to my family. Let it not be that the crimes of the father follow the son. I take my leave of this world and ask you to pray for me. To the Seven I commend my soul, please, Stranger, have mercy on me.”
And maybe it was the hypocritical speech, or the fact that Otto Hightower was the mastermind behind the plot to hurt his family, but this time Daemon swing his sword with much more force than necessary. The head rolls out of the box and into the crowd, falling near the first row, among horrified screams.
Right at your feet.
You turned and left. And Daemon stood, with his bloodied sword, still near the executioner's block.
There is a feast after. One that you are not allowed to attend. Nothing so crass as to celebrate the death of the two criminals, but rather, the settling of the succession issue. The plot, even if it had to do nothing with Rhaenys, had been damaging enough to doom her hopes of being Queen.
It is then, high on victory and still wearing a dirtied sword, that Daemon decides to use his power over you. It's not a conscious choice. There is something in him that broke tonight, something to do with a severed head and your look of disgust, and the cheers of Aemma and Viserys. It's something about feeling empty, when having the world at his fingertips.
He is soon to be the Prince of Dragonstone. With Viserys lack of heirs, he might even become King one day, if he doesn't set aside Aemma and finds himself a younger wife.
Daemon wonders if Aemma realizes how precarious her position has turned, now that she got her revenge. If she had kept quiet, if she had let Rhaenys get the Iron Throne, her position would be secure. The Arryns would not allow Viserys to put her aside.
But now, that her husband will be King, she will never be safe. Queens fall every day, as Rhaenys has learned. It seems it is time for Aemma to learn that lesson.
You are packing your things when he gets there. Clothes and a small collection of trinkets from the time you had spent by his side. It enrages him. You can't leave. Not when you are the only person who can understand what these weeks have been like. The only one who knows exactly the kind of monster Viserys has turned him into.
“Where are you going?” It comes out more aggressive than he intends to, but you no longer cower at his voice.
“I don't know.” You meet his eyes and keep your voice soft. “Away, my Prince.”
“No, you are not.” Daemon orders, and leaves Dark Sister laying on the rug. The blood rusts the blade, but what does it matter, at this point? If you are leaving, he can call a maid tomorrow. If you are not, everyone can know you as his whore. “Pour me some wine.”
You obey, in silence. Your hands shake slightly.
“Pour yourself a cup, too.” Daemon says, patting the space by his side. You sit, very stiffly.
“Well done.” Daemon says. You give him a little nod. “Now take your dress off.”
“Excuse me?” You jump up so fast, you might as well have never been sitting. Your hands ball by your side, an indignant expression clear on your face.
“Come on, girl. You are not that stupid.” Daemon rolls his eyes. He has protected you for nearly a fortnight, let you take his bed and food and not even once touched you. He killed a man today who would have crushed you like a worm. No one else would want you after this, no one else would understand you. “You owe me a great debt. What other use could I have for a commoner?”
“I can pay my debt in other ways.” You protest, and go back to gathering your things.
Daemon laughs. It sounds broken to his own ears, cruel and shrill. You turn to face him, noticing the difference in tone. Yet, he is not deterred, even when he barely recognizes the cruel tone he is speaking in.
“Yes. You can. I think you would make a fine dragon keeper. You have little skill for anything else, but anyone can shovel shit. I think five years of that would be a fair trade.”
“Or I could just go.” You threaten.
“You could.” And get yourself murdered in the process because there is no way Viserys and him are letting you walk away with all you have learned in your stay with them. And if they don't get you, sickness and famine might. As the northerners say, winter is coming.
“Princess Aemma…” And it’s only then that Daemon gets fed up. You think Aemma out of all people will protect you? Aemma? Has he been doing such a shitty job of it?
“Aemma said I had to protect you. She did not say I couldn't have you.”
“I…” You start, but Daemon is too desperate to care about how cruel he is starting to sound.
“You should hope her reach doesn't go far, as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Tell me, how much do you have? Enough to buy passage into Essos?”
“I'll stay.” You untie your dress, with tear filled eyes. It falls to your hips. Daemon rushes to you like a man possessed. The urge to own, claim, to keep, is too strong to resist.
He wastes no time in burrowing himself in your skin, your hair, carving a place for himself inside you. He is a monster. And intends on devouring you whole.
His love will strangle you until nothing is left. Maybe one day you will be his Queen if Viserys doesn't leave Aemma. By then, you will be just like him.
He kisses down your throat, and lowers a hand between your thighs.
“Stay.” Daemon says, and it feels like the first link on the chain. “Stay.” Muttered between your thighs, as he drowns himself on you.
“Stay.” As your blood stains his shaft, and you moan, confused by whatever you are feeling. As your hips meet his, as you are desperate to choke, to die in his hands.
“I'll stay.” You whisper back, coming down for your high, and the lock clicks.
Has really a key been thrown away if no one hears the sound it makes as it falls?
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bedoballoons · 1 year ago
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Hi I'm the Anon who asked for Newt briefcase hcs I just wanted to say thank you for doing that probably confusing request lmao
How about Anemo boys + aether and neuvillet with gn darling who has SCP 999 as a pet
It wasn't that confusing don't worry!! Im just glad you enjoyed it and I hope you like this one too! Sorry it took so long...but thank you for your request! <3
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂
{༻~SCP 999~༺}
CW: Mostly fluffy, descriptions of living blobs! GN! Reader! Cursing!
Also in case you don't know what it is, SCP 999 is a friendly orange blob type of SCP and one quick google search of it will show you just how adorable it is!
(Includes: Xiao, Wanderer, Kazuha, Heizou, Venti, Aether, and Neuvillette!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Xiao:
Xiao sighed, trying desperately not to giggle or give in to your blobs attempts to make him laugh...no matter how much it tried to tickle him and use it's aroma to drug him with happiness he wouldn't let it work. "Where did you find this... thing again?"
"Just wandering around outside this guarded place...come on Xiao you know you want to smile! Give into the laughter!!"
"Absolutely not....wait what? A guarded place? Are you sure they weren't being kept in there? What if they are dangerous?"
"Xiao, they have been cuddling you for ten minutes...pretty sure it isn't dangerous. I think they like you!"
𑁍༄Wanderer:
"What the fuck is that..." Wanderer stared at the blobby orange pile of goop next to you, his face twisted into a almost disgusted look as it watched him with large round eyes and a cute smile, you could tell the little one just wanted to be friends with him...but convincing him to agree would be difficult.
"They are my friend, I found them outside of a security building...lost and sad, all alone. I had to help them! Come on, you know they are cute!" You patted the blobs head, making it jiggle while it's smile grew, truthfully the cutest little thing you'd ever seen.
"Did you just say you found it...near a SECURITY BUILDING???"
𑁍༄Kazuha:
"Do you think they feel emotions? Such as agony, happiness...loneliness? Do you think they have family?" Kazuha threw a stick a couple feet away, watching with a distant look in his eyes as the blob hurried after it like a puppy playing fetch. In truth you'd wondered the same thing for awhile now...did your little friend have a family? Had you taken them away from it...or had you saved them from something that had made their family non existent?
"I know they can feel emotions. Right now they are clearly happy and when I first found them they seemed sad, but for all I know I read it wrong...what if I took them away from their home?"
"I think the more accurate wording...is you gave them a home. You tend to do that...for more than just new creatures."
𑁍༄Heizou:
"From a secure building you say? Perhaps we should investigate it further? There could be more entities like your friend..." Heizou stared at the orange blob, truthfully less concerned with finding more of them and far more concerned with finding out if their occurrence was due to illegal experiments. It could be a big bust if his intuition was correct...and it almost always was.
"Yeah but Heizou it was incredibly guarded, like people with guns..."
"Guns hmm? I'll call in back up then, I have a feeling what you saw was more than just a secure base."
𑁍༄Venti:
"Oh wow...that's a interesting creature...um what is it?" Ventis words showed his confusion, in all his years of living he'd never really seen anything like your little friend, sure slimes could bare resemblance but...something was off about this particular blob. Something in its eyes...like it had seen unbearable things..
"I'm not really sure what they are, I found them by accident while I was adventuring. They were wandering around the forest and looked hungry, so I gave them a bunch of fruits. You should see it Venti! They just dissolve!" You reached into your bag, digging around for a apple you knew you had in there.
"It...dissolves things???"
𑁍༄Aether:
"Awwe they are kinda cute..." Aether said, smiling sweetly as he kneeled in front of the orange glob, "Hi there little buddy, you want some food?"
You felt your heart swell at the sight...everyone else had said you'd made the wrong choice saving the little blob, but Aether was different...he saw them the same as any other creature, something who deserved to be treated with kindness. "Aren't they adorable? I've never seen anything like it before so I was a little scared they might be harmful, but I don't think they'd hurt a fly."
"I don't see them hurting anyone either, here you go little buddy." Aether tossed a sunsettia into the air, chuckling sweetly as the blob caught it and dissolved it with a happy smile.
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
"Ahem,...you say it has special properties?" Neuvillette looked down at the orange blob, wondering how such a being could exist...if it really was a natural occurrence and if it's friendly nature was only mere show and deep down it held a much more nefarious purpose.
"Yep!! If you hug them, they release these yummy scents and it makes you feel happy! They can also tickle you and they loovvee to play fetch!"
"You say it produces different scents? Does that mean it could possibly release toxins as well?"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧
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gracexthoughts · 10 months ago
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Okay, I have a lot of thoughts about the Percy Jackson show and the discourse I have been seeing about it. This is going to be long and possibly all over the place but I just want to share. If you disagree, that’s fine. Just don’t hate because you have a different opinion. Deal?
I want to start this by saying I am a new fan. I did not read the PJO books when I was a kid. I watched the first two episodes when they came out in Dec purely out of curiosity and was just immediately in love with the world. So in true ADHD hyperfixation fashion, I devoured Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus books and I am currently on Book 1 of Trials of Apollo. And maybe it's because I am a newer fan but a lot of the gripes I see about PJOTV just don’t make sense to me and I feel like they really are just rooted in nostalgia. Watching the show and all the interviews of the cast and crew, it is clear to me they wrote this season with the intention and hope that they would get to make all 5 seasons, and possibly even further. I can see how all the changes make sense when looking at the narrative as a whole. They are really setting up this world and this story in a way that I think lends more to the future of this narrative better than The Lighting Thief book does.
I also want to say I have yet to find a book to screen adaptation that is beat for beat accurate. So much of what works in novels, especially novels told in first person, just does not translate to third person screen adaptations. Ultimately, literature and film/TV are art forms and what works for one may not work for another and the creators are allowed to make changes, especially when it is for the overall good of the product.
To start, the exposition dumping didn’t really bother me that much although I agree it is there and noticeable. Now, I watched the first two episodes before reading the books but after reading the books, I think the exposition is just as noticeable in the books as it is in the show. Percy walks into this world without knowing or believing in any of it. In the book, he learns about this world through the people around him explaining it in dialogue. It is just condensed a little more in the show which makes it feel a little heavier. Nonetheless, fantasy tends to have a lot of exposition because there are a lot of things you as a reader/ viewer need to know at the start of the story. It is part of the nature of the genre, especially when it is intended for a younger audience. Exposition that seems clunky to an older viewer is probably not going to feel the same way to a younger audience member (which is the target audience).
The biggest complaint I see, and disagree with, is that the kids are “too smart which ruins the suspense.” Annabeth has been at camp since she was 7 and it is clear, both in the books and the show, she is determined to prove that she is strong and capable and intelligent. She has been training to go out on a quest since she was 7 years old. Annabeth would have been studying these monsters and these myths so of course she can figure out the traps. They aren’t that hard to figure out, even for someone who isn’t super knowledgeable about Greek mythology.
Grover’s job is a protector of demigods. It makes sense he knows these myths like the back of his hand. I imagine that after Thalia, Grover would have studied and worked so hard to prove he was ready for another chance. Grover in the books also fell a little flat in The Lighting Thief to me because it seemed like most of his personality was just to be scared and funny until later books. I love what they did with Grover in the show because he feels like an actual character with his own goals, intelligence, trauma and authority.
Now onto Percy… I have so many thoughts about Show Percy so bear with me.
While I was reading the books, I was confused as to why Sally didn’t teach Percy about Greek mythology. Book Sally seemed to just hope Percy being attacked by monsters and going to camp isn’t going to happen or just assumes that when it does happen, Percy will figure it out. Sally always knew what would happen to her son, at least to some extent, so why wouldn’t she do everything in her power to prepare her son for this life she knows is inevitable? I loved the addition of her teaching Percy about Greek Mythology and Ancient Greek because it makes so much sense because I never saw her as a just “sit back and wait” kind of character. Percy is her son, her baby, her miracle. She is terrified for him (which we see in EP 7 in the flashbacks) and, to me, it makes sense she would do everything in her mortal power to prepare him in a way that doesn’t scare him or reveal to him who he actually is. (It is also such a beautiful call back to Rick telling his son these stories as a kid, like I just think that is beautiful).
While on the subject of Ancient Greek, I saw someone complain how Percy doesn’t inherently know Ancient Greek in the Olympus scene in EP 8. “Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. I only caught one word. Father.” - The Lightning Thief, page 343. This moment was literally pulled straight from the book! Percy talks about Annabeth tutoring him in Ancient Greek in the book (The Lighting Thief, page 107) and I loved how the show changed it to be his mom that taught him because of the previous reasons I gave above.
In general, Percy is an unreliable narrator. We see that in The Last Olympian when Rachel painted him defeating Antaeus. Percy is shocked at how he looks. We also see this in Heroes of Olympus where he is constantly talked about as this powerful and sometimes scary person whereas Percy never describes himself as anything other than kind of mediocre. Percy is constantly underestimating his intelligence and power in his POV because at his core he is still an insecure kid who was bullied and uses humor as a defense mechanism. But no matter what he thinks, he is smart and powerful and capable and I love that we get to see that in the show because it isn’t in first person.
In the books I was constantly frustrated that they weren’t seeing the traps. Aunty Em’s is so clearly out of place and weird and creepy but the Book Trio just ignores it? Also the Medusa story change was beautiful and needed and added so much depth to what was a very simple scene in the books. The Crusty’s scene was jarring at first, but in hindsight it didn't bother me either because Hermes told them about the entrance. Why wouldn’t he tell them about the trap too? The way Hermes is portrayed, I get the sense that he really wants Percy to succeed, in the books and show, and that he is holding onto hope that somehow, someway, he can still save his son. Why would he send them somewhere just to lead them into a trap that does not benefit Hermes in any way? (And us not seeing that conversation happen is showing and not telling BTW)
Also, the overall claim that Percy, Annabeth and Grover know everything is just… wrong. (@pareiwheeler made a post about this that really made me realize this so go read their post too: https://www.tumblr.com/pareiwheeler/740600563986808832/theres-know-mystery-or-suspense-they-know) They know the small things but the big things? They didn’t think Luke was the thief, they didn't know it was Kronos, they didn’t know they would lose the fourth pearl, they didn’t know the casino would mess with time, they didn’t know the shoes were a trap, etc etc. They walk into these situations thinking they are prepared, thinking they know everything they need to but they DON’T And that is where the suspense lies, in the overarching storyline that is the driving force of the plot. Not in these moment to moment scenes that are not the main conflict.
Now onto the smaller changes that, in my opinion, benefit the overall narrative of this story.
Missing the solstice deadline: Not only is Percy choosing to continue the quest despite missing the deadline such a great character moment for him but this ups the stakes so much!! Zeus and Poseidon are currently at war for the last two episodes of the show and even if they don’t talk about it much, that knowledge is still there in the characters' heads and in the viewers’. Every moment they take in the Underworld, you are watching with the knowledge that war is raging above. And it's a great way to show the kind of hero Percy is and what he will become. Percy doesn’t care he “failed” because he didn’t come all this way just to run back to camp with his tail tucked between his legs because that is not Percy. Percy sneaks out of camp twice to go on quests he was not invited on because he will not let someone’s rules get in his way while he is protecting people he cares about. Percy doesn’t want war to happen so with even the slightest chance he can stop Zeus and Poseidon, he takes it! Also the addition of Poseidon stepping in and saving Percy from Zeus was beautiful.
I also loved that Poseidon gave them 4 pearls instead of 3 because such a small detail shows how Poseidon cares about Percy and Sally. And, plot wise, it didn’t change anything. Percy still left the Underworld without his mom. But starting with 4 pearls gives them hope that they actually can complete the quest AND save Sally. Percy leaving the Underworld without Sally is so much more impactful in the show than the books because of this tiny detail change.
The fact that the pearls take them to the east coast rather than the west coast works well too. I loved that they returned to the cabin because of how important that cabin is not only to Percy and Sally but also to Poseidon.
Hermes being added to the Lotus Casino and bringing in Luke’s background earlier on was beautiful and Lin Manuel Miranda’s performance was one of the standouts for me. It is such a beautiful moment and you can see the anguish in Hermes at his feeling powerless and I think it sets up Percy learning about Luke’s family in The Last Olympian in a great way. This is one of those moments where you can tell the writers and showrunners are playing the long game with this series.
Last but not least, the change in the betrayal scene. I love it. I do. Not only in the changes in the way it happens but how they characterized Luke. Luke clearly does not want to hurt Percy, he wants Percy to help him and to come with Luke because he cares about him. The prophecy states “You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend” and Luke in the book didn’t really seem to care about Percy or view him as a friend at the end of it. But Show Luke? He cares about Percy and he is heartbroken that Percy doesn’t side with him. Also the addition of Annabeth hearing Luke’s betrayal first hand was brilliant, in my opinion. Not only were Walker, Charlie and Leah ACTING but it was so much more impactful that Annabeth sees Luke turn and chooses Percy in that moment. And I don’t think it will change much of Annabeth’s actions in the future because you can see how hurt she is and how desperately she still wants him to come back and be good.
Anyway, I think the show is brilliantly done. That isn’t to say it doesn’t have its faults but nothing is perfect and if you were expecting this show to be 100% perfect then I think you just set your expectations too high because that is not realistic.
If you made it to the end of this, I love you. The Percy Jackson brain rot is real and if we don’t get an S2 announcement soon I’m going to riot
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 5 months ago
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That Eden specifically called them “William’s friend” makes me think it’s a Windsor who has friends in common with William, which is probably more likely Frederick or Gabriella, than the Yorkies. But as far as I know, the Kent branch doesn’t leak…except it was the Kent branch of Windsors that Eden referenced by name when he was talking about the crowded balconies. I think it’s from that side of the family.
I agree. A royal watcher on Twitter was oddly furious about the balcony this year and complaining that the extended family were being “disrespected”, particularly the Kents. (They weren’t this worked up the previous two years.) They’ve previously claimed to be friends with some of the Kents and tend to lose their temper very quickly whenever someone brings up Lady Amelia liking that IG post about turning BP into a gift shop. Various weak excuses such as it wasn’t her account (there’s screenshots, it WAS her handle) or suggesting she didn’t read the post first.
I think the source is a more distant relative who has absolutely no chance of becoming a working royal, and thus no chance of getting back on the balcony if it stays this way. Even if W doesn’t currently intend to have any of his first cousins, I think they do realise that there is always a small chance for them as he doesn’t have any other siblings like Charles. This is likely someone whose PR plays heavily on their adjacency to the BRF (e.g. Amelia - “the most beautiful royal”).
I agree - it’s someone whose career is heavily connected to the BRF, like Amelia and/or her siblings. And really, they’re the only ones it could be, from my perspective.
Since this topic seems to be generating some excitement from anons (going by my asks, the top 3 options are Frederick Windsor, Princess Eugenie, and Amelia Windsor). Let's dig deeper into it!
The Mountbatten-Windsors branch:
Peter and Zara couldn't give two shits if they're on a balcony or not, and their kids are too young to know what kind of "marketability" they have career-wise or attention-wise for being connected to the royal family. Not only that, their kids are very close to William's kids. They're in a pretty safe position as far as access and privilege goes. It's definitely not them.
Harry and Meghan. Well, there's a lot we could say here, but we're not going to look that deeply at them. All I'll say about them is this: Eden is not one of their usual sources when they leak, so I'm skeptical it's them but Harry does (or did) have a lot of friends in common with William so that's the most plausible "William's friend" excuse to me. But the guys who are legit still friends with William know better than to leak, so it wouldn't be those friends (like a van Straubenzee, Grosvenor, van Cutsem, or Pelly). It would be someone with a tenuous connection to William - maybe a friend of a friend who knows Harry better.
Beatrice is also close with William and she has her own career going for her. Edo also has his own career and he seems to be pretty financially set that Beatrice, and their children, probably have a super comfortable life and don't need the BRF as much. It's not her.
Eugenie is still a big question mark. She seems loyal to the crown for now and while she does have a chip on her shoulder, she does know which side of her bread is buttered. She is also probably fully aware that leaking about William guarantees a ticket of no return to Excludedville and after getting the invite to the Cousins Garden Party after being on the outs for a couple years, I don't think she's going to risk being "in," so I don't think it's her.
Louise and James have been raised with the expectation that they won't be working royals, not even part-time the way Beatrice and Eugenie were back in the day, so it's definitely not them or their friend circle (who are much too young to have friends in common with William).
Anne and Tim don't talk to the press, and neither do Edward and Sophie, like this. Andrew and Sarah do talk to the press and have leaked about the main branch before, but I don't think this is them. They wouldn't be quoted as 'William's friend' but - BUT - Eden had an exclusive from Sarah a couple days ago (about whether she and Andrew would remarry) and this nugget could've come up then, from Sarah.
The Duke of Kent branch:
The Duke and Duchess of Kent have never leaked or spoken to reporters, so I'm fairly certain it's not them. Besides, they're probably too old-school to think about going against the heir, and they probably raised their children (the Earl of St. Andrews, Lady Helen Taylor, and Nicholas Windsor) to be more ordinary than royally-privileged.
The bios for the Earl of St. Andrews and his wife (the Kents' eldest child/first son) on Wikipedia read like they enjoy the professional privilege that comes from being connected to the BRF but don't seem to be flaunting it. It's not them. And I doubt that they have friends in common with William. Edward and Andrew, sure. Not William.
Their children - Lord Downpatrick, Lady Marina, and Lady Amelia - are precisely the people who grew up with social media and thus understand how the power, access, and privilege of the BRF can further their work. Lord Downpatrick has a pretty successful outdoorsy/adventure-based travel company; he doesn't need the BRF. There isn't a whole lot known about Marina, but we do know that Amelia had/has a modeling contract and works in fashion. Marina seems unlikely to leak (since there isn't much about her), but Amelia is definitely a contender as Eden's source because much of her career is based on aesthetics and lifestyle - which she needs the BRF for.
Lady Helen Taylor, her husband, and their children. There's absolutely no easily-findable information about their four children. Even though they're the same ages as the Earl's children, and they'd be fully aware of the BRF's power with social media, the fact that they don't have Wikipedias and aren't very easily googlable hint that they're probably not the source.
Nicholas Windsor, hs wife, and their three sons. Not them. The sons aren't in the line of succession (owing to their Catholic baptisms). They have no use for the BRF because they wouldn't have had any privileges anyway.
The Prince Michael of Kent branch:
Prince and Princess Michael have complained about royal privilege before, but they also know - and respect - their places. They also wouldn't call themselves "William's friend" and I'm very skeptical that they have friends in common with William.
Frederick and Gabriella probably grew up without any expectation of royal connections and both seem to be in steady careers. They seem pretty tight with many of the Mountbatten-Windsor cousins - Eugenie is godmother to Frederick's eldest (which is odd to me but whatever), Frederick and Peter probably played together, Frederick's kids are the same ages as George and Charlotte, Lady Gabriella rode in the ascot carriage with Anne and Peter, and Lady Gabriella has been deputized by William before. It's definitely not Lady Gabriella, and I feel pretty confident saying it's not Frederick, even though he and his wife have spoken about being members of the extended royal family before (all positive, mostly about the time when Sophie was seriously injured in an accident, and Charles sent his personal chef to prepare meals for them).
Frederick's kids are too young to know any difference about what it means being related to the royal family. I do think Frederick enjoys the privilege of being related to the royal family and what it means for his career, but I don't think he cares from a publicity standpoint. Sure, he might like to go out on the balcony, but the guy's a finance executive. He doesn't need the balcony to help with his career.
The Gloucester branch:
It's not them. We don't even know a whole lot about them. The Duke and Duchess have three kids (Earl of Ulster, Lady Davina, and Lady Rose) and there's not much known about them. They enjoy the social aspects of being in the extended family but they wouldn't have had any expectation of using the BRF for career or professional connections.
The Margaret branch:
David Armstrong-Jones, Earl of Snowdon and his kids: I feel pretty confident saying it isn't the Earl since he doesn't really speak much to the press (that I'm aware of). His kids are the ages where they would be fully aware of what the BRF magic can do for them but I'm not sure. They seem to have a healthy relationship with the Elizabeth/Charles branch and I don't think they'd do anything to risk that. However, that said, Lady Margarita (David's daughter) does do some modeling work and she has her own art brands. I still don't think it's her because she was in William's wedding and if there's anyone who can profit off the royal connection, it's going to be her because all she needs to do is flash those photographs. She wouldn't complain about the balcony.
Sarah Chatto and her sons. It's definitely not Sarah. She has a safe and stable connection to the BRF and she strikes me as someone who doesn't want the attention. Her sons are of the same age who'd have grown up and know what social media could do for them, but they're not really in careers where they need publicity or the lifestyle for success; Samuel is an artist and Arthur is in the military.
So all that said, the top candidates for being Eden's source (for me) are Sarah Ferguson, Harry, Amelia Windsor, and Margarita Armstrong-Jones.
Since:
Sarah doesn't need any help getting attention for her career (or lack of it)
Harry doesn't use Eden, and
Margarita has the royal wedding pictures,
that leaves Amelia Windsor, aka the Kent branch. Who is in a publicity-hungry career, who likes social media content that criticizes the royal family, and who probably has the sour grapes of not having had any access or claim to fame with the BRF other than sharing the last name.
Also, another nail in the "it's not Margaret's side" theory for me is the Christmas walk. David and Sarah, and their kids, are often at the Christmas Walk and everyone is often being named by the press. I don't recall the Kent Windsors being on the Christmas walks recently and receiving similar treatment - so that's probably more sour grapes for whoever's the leak.
Oh, I forgot. I'm too lazy to scroll back up.
The PB branch:
Well, we know Camilla talks and talks and talks. But would she characterize herself as "William's friend"? I think that's a bit of a stretch for her.
Tom PB or Laura Lopes: Possibly. They probably do have friends in common with William, but they've never had access to or privilege from the BRF before, not even after Charles and Camilla made it official. So why would they care? I could see them caring from their kids' perspectives, but they've been around the BRF long enough to know that the affiliation to the BRF gets their foot in the door but any more than that only invites scrutiny in and they probably don't want that for their kids, and I think their kids are too young to understand the significance.
So for me, all roads lead back to Kents: it's either Amelia or Frederick, but I lean more to it being Amelia than I do Frederick.
Yes, I'm procrastinating some work stuff this afternoon. Gee, how could y'all tell?
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fumifooms · 11 months ago
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I've reached a certain point in the manga now where Sissel heckles Marcille and mentions how "half breeds" are sterile.
And now I can't get out of my head the idea of a Marcille who can't become a mother herself, but ends up being able to experience something of the sort through meeting Chilchuck's daughters (even if they are all grown already.)
And allow me to go further, but also imagine that there is a point where Chilchuck does finally bury the hatchet with his wife, but have come to accept that they just don't work anymore, and decide to divorce formally on amicable terms.
The daughters therefore all slowly get to know Marcille, and even without the intent of being motherly, she dotes on them all anyway (because they're just so cute and so sweet!), and they see how their crabby father's eyes goes soft when they see Marcille interacting with them that by the end of it, they corner their father and tell him they approve.
Yes!!! YES!!!
You seem to not have finished the manga yet so I want to avoid spoilers… But no if I’m going into this topic I’ll absolutely end up spoiling some things lol. So beware, spoilers in the links I put and under the cut! I also talk about this topic/dynamics headcanons a bit here, and here, and specifically about his wife and him reconciling or not here, and my fanfic Grind Me Down Sweetly has bits and headcanons like these, but it’s an aspect of marchil with lots of potential!! Not obligatory reading btw lol, I just like to keep things as tidy as I can with things I cover many times plus there’s more stuff I won’t say here. I’m gonna be talking for a while though!!
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I feel she could genuinely get along great with Flertom and Puckpatti, their personalities seem pretty compatible! Meanwhile Meijack’s more reserved, but Marcille would grow on her too. Meijack 100% would be the one who sticks more around her father as Marcille and her sisters chat enthusiastically when she first meets them, and out of nowhere she goes "She suits you." and Chil spits out his beer, but he swallows back the urge to deny it and then agrees.
One of my marchil timelines is that they stay close friends for a long time after post-canon, before maybe or maybe not dating. I like to think that after they meet, Marcille starts exchanging letters with Flertom sometimes because they hit it off and Chilchuck is like "Why are you on first name basis with my daughter!!! WHY ARE YOU ON FIRST NAME BASIS WITH MY DAUGHTER!! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN, STOP INFILTRATING ALL OF MY LIFEEEE-" <- Man who has her on his mind 24/7 and is kinda going mad over it. Hehe I’ll let you read the fic I linked in the beginning if that sounds fun to you!
I know that in my fic wips where confessions or proposals happen I tend to bring the topic of the daughters up. Here’s my favorite that lowkey guts me
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Post-canon spoiler but I like the idea that when the Toudens die from age or one thing or another, if one of them forms a family and has kids (through adoption or anything) then at least over the centuries she’d still overlook the lineage of royals and would find a sort of solace from that, always being surrounded by lots of caring people. I think this is a bit healing for her single child self as well! Her notion of family and childhood are very tainted by loneliness and loss, and though she needs to accept that all hellos end with goodbye and find closure and happiness even through that, something can definitely be done about the loneliness! And as you can see with my fanfic wip, in a perfect marchil world I also think that she would fully become a part of Chilchuck’s family and generations down the line either people at family gatherings call her "great-auntie", or inversely no one really knows and just goes "oh her? Yeah that’s Marcille. She’s in the family -shrug-". The family dinners would be awkward at first since I imagine Chilchuck’s prejudices on elves come from somewhere lol, but it’d be so sweet.
But yes, back to the daughters! Marcille is 100% a mom friend who loves caring for her loved ones (I have a post examining that a bit here), there’s how she likes to bathe Izutsumi and Falin after all (Kui has said it herself that she loves when characters care for others in ways like that, which reflects in Marcille, and with Milsiril & Kabru or Mithrun & his caretakers, etc~), but I don’t think she’d actually want a kid herself if she had to choose, maybe she’d grow to want it one day but I think what kind of bonds she’s looking for currently are more platonic and such than familial in nature, that she wouldn’t want ro raise a child herself quite yet. She likes spoiling people she loves and caring for them in domestic ways, but not the ‘everything else’ part lol. So I actually think this works out great!! She 100% dotes on them as you said, but in many ways I think their dynamic would be a lot like gal pals chatting every once in a while, Flertom and her share in the latest gossip and they talk about fashion amongst other things! With Meijack being more akin to the usual stepmother dynamic where what ties them together is Chilchuck, until they grow to have a bond based on familiarity over time (I feel like due to these she’s the one that would have a mother-daughter relationship with Marcille the most since Flertom and Puckpatti would be more casual with her, but I basically think all the daughters and Marcille see each other as equals). Their common point above everything is caring about Chilchuck, and though of course Marcille would be ready to offer motherly comfort or support for them if they wanted it, the girls are pretty past that age so I don’t see it happening all that much, at least not in the first 5 years or so~ I think once Chil dies (probably not very late with how he drinks a lot of alcohol and was malnourished/"strict dieting" for what’s implied to be a very long time) the reverse is gonna happen, where Marcille is gonna be absolutely gutted and will reach out to the girls a lot to grieve together and spend time recovering together. Talking about him and whatnot. If his wife goes to his funeral and they meet, Marcille and her could potentially also have very interesting interactions.
Girl sure wishes she wasn’t right here :( Unbeknownst to him she’d be giving him lifespan buffs ad infinitum if she could
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And! It was so easy for me to miss this detail when I first read The Adventurer’s Bible (the world guidebook) but Marcille’s mom remarried! Marcille has a stepfather herself! It’s interesting that Marcille’s relationship with him or her stance on her mom remarrying is left so open, but she certainly acts enthusiastic about families and kids so doesn’t seem like there’s a complex there. I think this would give her a lot of thoughts about potentially being a stepmother though! I think it might influence her in her casual attitude, where she doesn’t want to push herself as ‘the new mother’ and whatnot, and I think honestly if the girls ever wanted to vent to her about how their family situation made them feel, Marcille and them could have really heartfelt and understanding conversations.
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Ah yes ah yes, might as well unload my ‘Chilchuck has a second family of clingy asses’ timeline I adore: Marcille and Izutsumi, + the rest of the gang to a lesser degree~ I already linked a post in which I talk about how Marcille’s somewhat of a motherly presence for her, and Izutsumi’s relationship with Chilchuck is def rather father-like too (post going into that here)! A post-canon Marcille hc I love is that Marcille gets a cat~ A black one to fit with her witch aesthetic, and with how the cat hairs are black like the dresses she now wears all the time so it’s less apparent that she’s covered in them lol. It reminds her of Izutsumi a bit as she goes on her journey, it’s kinda like the chickens she had around her as a kid, she loves having things to care for and spoil AND also it’s the end place of her character arc about appreciating loved ones even if they’re short-lived, and having the courage to want to know and love them anyways… It always comes back to marchil and his stupid only 20 years left to live I swear 😭 I genuinely feel like Marcille tends to keep some emotional distance from others during canon to try and minimize that effects of loss would have on her, but more on that in another upcoming post. But yeah I feel like every time she sees a stray cat while strolling out she starts tearing up a little… She wonders if Izutsumi is okay and eating well and all… But she learns to live with not fully knowing, and optimism & being hopeful are her trademark thing so she puts them to good use! Sometimes her and Chil will hang out of his shop and they’ll see a stray cat. They start leaving some food out for them. Chil is all "Bad idea! They’ll become overly reliant on our food and it’ll be bad for them!" at first but he caves. So then they watch it feed on what they gave it, and she brings up what was both on their mind. "Do you ever wonder where Izutsumi went, if she’s alright…" "You say that as if she didn’t visit three months ago. Aren’t you supposed to be the one for who long periods of time mean little here?" And a silence falls, but then after a bit he finally replies, without snark. "… I do." Marcille’s cat would 100% be a stray she decided to adopt actually. I am seeing how a marchil fic being written centered around this would work~ Before she brings it to the castle and officially adopts it, she sees it standing out in the rain all pitifully in front of Chil’s shop once and she invites it in (to Chilchuck’s despair), and from then on it’s still a stray but it has a home to go back to. And it can showcase Marcille and Chil’s relationship alongside that metaphorically and it’s like… Domesticating love… 😭 I think I hold a Grind Me Down Sweetly sequel here~ Chilchuck is so the ‘doesn’t want a cat dad who ends up being the cat’s favorite’, both with his cat daughter and the actual cat lol, and Marcille’s not a cat but he certainly wasn’t looking for another romance so hey!! Chilchuck expected to live alone forever after his wife didn’t get back together with him, but surprise!!! Ok cat tangent over I promise <3
Meeting the stepmom energy… Plus the dwarven bachelor. And the king. Maybe he didn’t make up with his wife "like how well it goes in stories" like he hoped for, but her wish sure did come true!! She met his family!! :] I’m planning a huge character arc post about this part of their interactions in canon, but optimism and hope did at least half the job <3 Especially since he hadn’t seen his daughters in years too. She’s good for him!!! And he’s good for her!!!
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<3
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