#and while i understand being low on time it's no excuse to behave like he did

[tjerra14]

got fed up and pulled the 'I'm a vet"-card on an impolite and obnoxious guy calling me "nurse" in a belittling way every other word today and the immediate change in attitude was frankly disheartening

why am I suddenly more deserving of respect than my coworkers just because I have a different job title

[signanothername]

Can we have a more in depth look into how you think Dream and Nightmare experience autism and how it affects them?

YESSSSS LETS GOOOOO!!!!

Ok before we start this ramble, I’d like to emphasize how important the time period Dream and Nightmare grew up in, it was a time period in which anything mental health related was immediately connected with “demons” and “possession”

I like to say that the twins are masked Autistics a lot, but in truth, I like to think they both started off without masking their Autism at all, they never saw anything wrong with the way they behaved (cause there indeed wasn’t anything wrong), they were comfortable with who they were and how they behaved, it was their normal in a world that saw it as abnormal, but it was when the villagers started getting in the picture that problems started

Nightmare experiences his Autism through his special interest in learning new things and reading books, hyper empathy, isolation, avoiding eye contact, semi-repulsion to touch if he wasn’t the one to initiate it, understimulation, extreme difficulty in understanding his own emotions (and by extension, difficulty in expressing them), generally being blunt, brutally honest and direct, and selective mutism, Nightmare mostly stims by repeating certain sounds or phrases and humming

Dream experiences his Autism through his special interest in nature (especially flowers), precious stones as well as sewing, difficulty understanding social cues, selective mutism, extreme sensitivity to bright lights (he has a love/hate relationship with the sun) and loud noises, overstimulation, low empathy, and learning difficulties especially when it comes to language, Dream tends to stim by flapping his hands or stomping his feet

Both the twins perfer to follow a routine, however, Nightmare tends to plan his days carefully, and finds any change in his routine extremely distressing to the point it can cause him to experience a meltdown if he couldn’t think of a quick solution

Dream finds a change in his routine distressing too, but his reaction is a bit milder, he tends to get anxious and starts stimming to calm himself down all while he works on a way to get his routine back on track

Speaking of meltdowns, whenever the twins are extremely distressed, Nightmare is more likely to experience a shutdown while Dream is more likely to experience a meltdown, that doesn’t mean the opposite can’t happen sometimes, but it really depends on the situation

Then the villagers came and abused Nightmare into masking his Autism, using his Autistic traits as an excuse to demonize him, made comments about how he must be “possessed”, meanwhile they abused Dream into masking by making sweet tainted mean spirited comments about any behavior he exhibited that felt “abnormal” to them, they’d say things like “honey, it’s rude not to look someone in the eyes when speaking to them” or how he should “use his words” when Dream felt like he couldn’t

Both Nightmare and Dream internalized such comments deeply, and started subconsciously masking their Autism, they were children at the time after all, and especially after the apple incident, Nightmare truly believed he might be a demon or at least possessed by one for centuries after, cause for so long Nightmare couldn’t find a logical explanation in his beloved books for why he behaves the way he does

The word “Autism” never even existed back then, Nightmare spent years of his life researching for any logical explanation only to hit a dead end each time, and now that he’s out in the multiverse seeing how many people don’t really exhibit the same behavior he and his twin do, he was trying desperately to reassure himself that he can’t truly be a “demon” considering Dream exhibits the same “abnormal” behaviors (it rarely made him feel better about himself), even as an adult, the thought of being a “demon” distresses Nightmare so much that he sometimes experiences a meltdown cause of it

Nightmare eventually gives up trying to understand himself and instead starts consciously masking his Autism, he starts forcing himself to look people in the eye when he speaks or spoken to, he stops himself from stimming, he forces himself to speak when he’s overwhelmed, he starts hiding his love for his special interest (he has an entire big library of books yet he’d force himself not to spend most of his time there), he stops isolating himself and forces himself not to avert from anyone touching him, all to appear “normal”, all while it’s physically painful and emotionally draining to him

Same thing with Dream, except Dream never consciously masks, it’s all subconsciously, he forces himself to make eye contact, he stops stimming when people are around, he forces himself to act “normal” when he’s overstimulated, he forces himself to speak even when he feels like he can’t, he hides his special interest and puts on a mask of empathy even when he can’t truly understand/ tune in with the pain or feelings others experience but rather only able to understand their pain in a logical manner (and it makes him feel so damn guilty, cause Dream loves to help people, he thinks that he should be able to feel sad when others do), he pretends to understand social cues when in reality he only mimics how others act in social situations, he blames his learning difficulties on “time constraints” and how he simply doesn’t have the time to sit down and learn

Sometimes both the twins’ masks slip away when they’re extremely overwhelmed, other times, they let their masks slip when they’re alone, and it only adds to their stress cause they feel a sort of fucked up guilt and shame over not acting in a “normal” way, other times it’s a guilty pleasure, they almost reached a point in which they think their Autistic traits are some sort of privilege, punishing themselves if they mess up by not giving themselves the relief of letting the mask slip when alone (like forcing themselves not to stim)

The fucked up truth is, their masks also really impairs them socially, cause sometimes they get anxious thinking about being normal, that it might distract them or cause them to lose track of things

And even when the centuries passed by and science developed and changed and the idea of demonic possession became outdated and mental health became more prominent, and the word “Autism” came to be, neither twins really know they have Autism, neither of them even know what Autism is, Dream doesn’t have the resources to understand what it is, and Nightmare gave up trying to understand himself a long time ago to realize he’s not demonic for it

Will they eventually know about it, understand themselves better and get the support they deserve? It’ll probably take as many years to undo the damage done but I like to believe they do

A kinda part 2

[flxrartsstuff]

Addicted to you

GojoxFemReader! 18+

authors note: ahhh the inspiration some fanarts are giving me is insane! Found another one, this time with Gojo. Yep, first time writing about him. Something simple. He’s laying in your bed and doesn’t want to get up. Too tired to do anything but that’s no excuse for you.

cw: Gojo being clingy, smut, cowgirl position, dry humping, riding, calling Reader princess, i love the view of the Fanart down below, nipple play, unprotected sex, cock warming

Fanart by: @hunnismokah (omg i love this so much, Hope it’s okay that i used it for this Banner!)

You wanted to close the curtains as the day was slowly going to end, the last sunrays hitting the room and tickling the broad figure that was laying in your shared bed. Now it was nothing but shared. He made himself comfortable as if owning the bed for himself alone, stretching one leg out, crossing one arm behind his head, muffling any sounds and words you couldn’t understand. Only wearing some black shorts and a white muscle shirt which was moved far up so you could see his well trained and perfectly abs. Even his shorts revealed so much of his shaped legs and you couldn’t resist to bite your lip by this harmless sight you got. But before you could close the curtains, his mumbling got louder, making you stop in the track.

»C‘mere.«

»What?« you asked, your brows furrowed in confusion, also in amusement. Sounding like a little child that didn’t want to wake up or going to bed too early. He stayed lying like this, didn’t move but only repeated his words. So you left the windows open and went over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Your eyes wandered over his figure, you didn’t hold back and you knew, even through his blindfold, he could see it all. A sly grin appeared on his glossy lips as he dragged his muscle shirt much higher, to reveal more of his upper body.

»Idiot.« you chuckled because of his playful demeanor and wanted to get up again, as he suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back. You let out a surprised loud, falling back against his chest.

»You’re not going anywhere. Just stay with me.«

You opened your mouth to protest, saying you wanted to prepare for bed as well, but you did him this favor and remained still like that for a while. It wasn’t very comfy, half lying half sitting like that but you could feel his steady heartbeat on your back which was the best night melody to sleep with.

»I am so tired. So, sooo tired.« the white haired man cried out, pouting like a puppy.

»Then sleep already.« you suggested grinning, which brought another pouting from him. You gasped surprised as he pressed you harder against him and you felt something poking your side.

»You know I can’t sleep now.« his whisper tickled your skin and ear, which caused goosebumps all over your body. Your breath quickend immediately and the temptation was to hard to resist. Especially when he behaved like a little lost koala who couldn’t let go off you.

»Mhm, let me help you then.« you chuckled and turned around to face him. He already wanted to drag down his blindfold but you stopped him, placed a hand on his face. Before saying anything you took the next steps already and moved your body right on top of him to straddle him. Sitting right on his groin made him letting out a nasty little gasp.

»I like that kind of help, princess.« he said cockily, already grabbing your hips with his big hands as if making clear where you belonged to. Everything you wanted to do before, was totally forgotten now especially when he touched you liked this. And while he was tired lying under you, why not using this opportunity? Having the strongest to rile up like that, made your heart jump with anticipation.

»And I like that view. Got used to it.« the tease slipped out of your mouth and you couldn’t help but giggle. His lips separated to say something, but got immediately cut off the moment you slowly started to move your hips on him. A low growl escaped him, nothing to do now with his childish behavior seconds ago. Your pussy fluttered already, even though you just started your work on him. But the contact even through your clothes was electrifying, teasing you as much as him. And with every slow stroke, he became harder under you. His hands grabbing your more tight, squeezing your legs and thighs. It was your plan to take him right now and he would let you with pleasure. Who was he anyway to deny any of your brilliant plans? Especially when they included to have sex with you?

You rolled your hips smoothly and slowly along his groin, the bulge becoming much bigger now, that it teased your clit delightfully. You brought some good self control to not grind yourself on him too fast. You just wanted to enjoy the whole thing before ending too fast. His hands left a hot trail wherever they touched you, playing with the hem of your shirt to signalizing you to take it off already. Of course wearing no bra, he got the full sight to see of your wonderful, well formed breasts. Still too far away for him to grab, you leaned down to him. While you kissed him on his lips, his hands immediately went up to your tits, squeezing them as a thirsty that needed water. Playing with that sensitive nubs of yours which made you moan right into his mouth. It became hotter than you expected, your hips taking pace and the wetness dripping right on your panties. He knew that, felt the warmth between your thighs already. What would he give now to check; only a glimpse on that dampened panties of yours? Inhaling the scent and getting drunk of it?

You cupped his face, looked at his blindfold and still in his eyes. For someone who covered his eyes, it felt still too intense. You felt exposed in front of him, totally. His skin was soft, his lips naturally shiny and glossy, inviting to just kiss him without break. You didn’t even realized that you paused, just to admire his face. The white haired one chuckled amused.

»What? Too stunned by my face?«

»You could say that,« you just answered, already grabbing the blindfold and taking it off slowly. He blinked a few times, white strands of his hair falling over his eyes as his blue orbs were finally free and brightened. Two deep oceans that dragged you in, almost like a curse. You wanted to sink deeper into the waves, discovering him with all your heart. Under them you saw slightly darker shadows, your fingers brushed gently over them. The last sun rays which hit the room, reflected in his eyes, let them appear much brighter and sparkly. He truly was beautiful.

»Kiss me, princess.« he whispered after a while, seemingly lost in your gaze as well. Your lips hovered right above his the whole time and your breath crashed onto them. Within a second you claimed his lips as yours again. Your tongue eagerly founds its way along his lips, till he opened them to let you enter. Slowly your hips started to move again, while you made out so desperately hungry for each other that you almost forgot to breathe. He whimpered under you, air rushing through his nose and no matter what, he would never interrupt you to break this kiss. So it was you, only to lean down and drag his shorts down from his hips. He watched you with lust covered eyes, awaiting the moment you would finally free his cock. The bulge unmistakably big, made your pussy throb in anticipation. You wanted nothing more than to finally let it sink deep inside your walls. Dragging down his pants his long erection jumped out, hitting his lower abdomen and leaving a little hint of precum on his skin.

One of his large hands brushed over your cheek, moving a few strands of your hair aside to cup them behind your ear. »What you’re waiting for, princess? Try your best.«

Even though he seemed tired as hell minutes ago, it was interesting to see this kind of challenge in his eyes now. All tiredness like blown away, Gojo leaned back and grabbed after your hip to direct you on his length. After you freed yourself from your shorts and panties as well of course. A short glance went over to your panties as you threw them away and he noted that they were truly dampened and wet. First you only sat on it, without letting him enter that easily. But even the contact of your wet pussy right on his cock made him whimper in delight. You were perfectly warm and already dripping with your sweet juices that he would have easily access to slide deep inside your hole. But would you let him now? Of course not, you moved your hips again in slow motions along his shaft and this time no other clothes were disturbing you two. It sounded like heaven to hear him whimpering and groaning under you. It was a sight you rarely got to see especially from one who claimed to be the strongest of all. He stared like hypnotized at your hips and the sweet flesh of yours that rubbed along his erection with ease. Your mouth let out the sweets moans and you gasped everytime when your clit met with the head of his dick. Getting sensitive he felt, that your movements became faster and you naughty little thing wanted to get yourself off on his cock that easily. Sure he would let you, he would give everything for the sight of you rubbing yourself to release like that. Your brows furrowed, you bit your lip to avoid any too naughty sounds escaping from it. But sooner or later you gave it up. He felt the warmth of your dripping cum smearing along his cock as you came undone on him. Filthy louds coming uninhibited from your wide open mouth and made him grin proudly. The view of you cumming on him like that made his cock pulse only harder, the impatience growing much more than it was already. You never look more beautiful when a orgasm hit you like that. And he would be a fool for not letting you get yourself off on his dick. But of course, even this wasn’t enough for you, no. You needed him deep inside with all his length. So you repositioned yourself again, that your pussy was hovering over his cock, before letting it slide a along inside, slowly and gently to get used to the size and stretch it caused.

A delightful stretch you couldn’t get more of. And even him, who was only whimpering before, started to groan much louder now. Letting out what he was trying to control before. He searched for your gaze, reached for your chin to turn your head to him and to see the lust in yours eyes. So real, so uninhibited and free. It was like nothing could stop the both of you now.

»That’s good, princess. So good. Show me more, yeah? Don’t hold back…«

Your hands grabbed as much flesh of him as they could, leaving red marks on his shoulders or chest, as you started moving back and forth on him. Every movement teased your clit in such a nice way, that you weren’t only whimpering but already letting out loud and naughty moans, smiling and feeling absolutely addicted to it. His hands were doing his best to grab your hips and help you with guiding you along his cock. You found your comforting motions which made it so easy for you, so you didn’t hesitated anymore. Riding him with such filthy noises, louder moans and the bed which squeaked with every jump of you. His blue eyes fixed on your face as if he didn’t want to loose any moment of it. He loved the freckles smile on your open lips, as you rode him faster the more your pussy squeezed around him. Your orgasm approached with every second and there’s was nothing more you wanted right now.

»Fuck, that’s it, baby. Lookin‘ so fucking beautiful..!« he praised you, panting heavy and the grip around your hips growing stronger. Little pearls of sweat running down your forehead and the rest of your bodies, letting them shine in the simple light. Skin clapping against skin, echoing in the room in perfect sync.

»S-Sa..toru…oh my god..« you whimpered desperately, keeping intense eye contact with him, as you felt the big wave of your climax approaching. Making everything in your body shaking and trembling, preparing for the final release that would give you that explosive orgasm you both craved for. Smiling you threw your head back in pure satisfaction like a goddess, moaning his name louder and louder like a praise. And he couldn’t ask for a better view than this. You looked so beautiful and this brought him over the edge right after you as well.

That’s when his dick twitched severeal times inside of you before releasing his heavy load of cum with a long relieved growl. His brows furrowed in delight, his eyes half closed and his hands grabbing harder on your soft flesh. You rolled your hips several times over his dick to get more of your climax as possible, drooling over this high intense love making with him.

»This…was Perfect.« You claimed breatheless and leaned down to Kiss him sloppy, with your heart still hammering heavy against your chest. He reached immediately, not wanting to ever separate from you anymore. Chuckling and breathing through his nose, the white-haired man, pressed you against his chest. The warmth of your pussy still wrapped around his cock, he didn‘t seem to have any intention of letting you go. No, of course not. How clingy Gojo Satoru could be, this would be a very sleepless night again. Not that you had anything against it…

© 2024 flxrartsstuff. All rights reserved. Do not modify, repost or claim as yours.

[gotta-spew-words-somewhere]

Countdown: 8

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: a failed date and the promise of a comfy sofa.

TW’s: Smut, nighttime stranger danger, a difficult to understand dress

A/N: Stop reading after * if you’re not about that smut life, I promise nothing important happens except the smut itself. Also turns out I struggle to write it but here we are! Enjoy

Azriel POV

This time, he makes no excuses as he meanders toward your store. It’s not quite as late as usual— usual? It’s evidently habit-forming, being around you— yet this part of the city still holds a stillness that settles his bones.

He knows if he ventured further south the lanes would be abuzz with bustling cafes and tipsy revellers, but it isn’t just any company he’s after tonight. No, it’s your heady mix of brash yet authentic, soothing but energising that he’s finding himself craving.

Here. Here. Wait.

The whisper at his ear makes Azriel pause and step into the shadows, eyebrows furrowing as he scans the star-lit alley for what exactly is ‘here’. It’s not too long before his sensitive fae hearing offers an answer.

Footsteps. Yours, he’s sure, but off. Brisk and clipped and—- are you wearing heels?

You are. The click-clack rings stark against the stone, eating up the distance between you both rapidly— and then nothing.

There’s just a beat where Azriel holds his breath, instinctive stealth taking over, before your voice rings out in low warning.

“Who’s there?”

You’re just around the corner, and with a deep breath that helps him remember this is Velaris, this is you, he steps back into the light with a soft smile.

You’re decidedly not smiling, a fucking dagger in hand and eyes sharp and narrow- for a moment at least. As soon as the cogs click into place, a weary smile of recognition takes over, weapon sheathed with practised smoothness in the band at your thigh.

Your thigh that is largely exposed. Because you’re in a dress. A short, fitting dress of rich navy that makes your skin seem to glow and your curves sing and Azriel’s entire body tense.

What’s going on? The dagger— the dress? He doesn’t know what to say or where to look, blinking lamely at you in the dark.

“Oh, it’s you. You shouldn’t sneak up on women in the night you know.” It’s followed with a barked laugh and rouge-painted grin, and he wonders if you’re doing this to him on purpose.

He swallows, internally begging his body to behave. “Where have you been?” It’s none of his business, really, but he just has to know.

With an incline of your head to follow, you begin to walk on toward your storefront, arm brushing against his own.

“I had a date,” Azriel’s wings flare and settle, “but it was a total dud. Nice enough guy but— eh, you know?” A quick shrug of your shoulders and suddenly he feels much better, momentary flicker of something drifting away on the wind.

“No second date then?” His brow furrows, he meant to ask about the dagger— not that, and you shoot him a grin as you round on the door of your store.

“Well, depends how much longer this dry spell lasts.” With a click of your keys, the door swings open and you step inside, thankfully missing the way the shadowsingers eyes round and lips part.

At this point, he’s sure you’re torturing him for fun.

You’re slipping off the delicate heels before you’ve even fully crossed the threshold, groaning with relief, and the sound crawls its way down Azriel’s spine in the most delicious way.

Fuck. Fuck. Get it together.

“C’mon Shadow Man, I’m finally taking you upstairs tonight.”

What.

The quirk of your brow seems entirely innocent, but there’s no way you can say things like that while dressed like that and smelling like—-

“Unless you want to sit on the stool again instead of a comfy sofa? I don’t bite y’know.”

He swallows down telling you that he wouldn’t mind if you did.

Finally, the realisation of what you’re actually offering breaks through the fog, and he nods just in time to avoid looking completely ridiculous, moving to follow you behind the counter and up a narrow set of stairs.

This feels like something. Being corralled into hot tea and good conversation is one thing in the shop— but here? In your actual home? Some invisible line is being crossed, and with the way his heart is racing, it seems as though he’s almost enjoying the prospect.

———————

Reader POV

After spending the last few dragging hours with a male so perfectly perfect, Azriel’s presence feels like a strong glass of your favourite wine.

Caed was lovely. Smart and bubbly and so sweet it made your teeth hurt with every compliment, every smile. A perfect male for a perfect female— someone with no rough edges. Someone who sleeps well when the sun hides behind the mountains. Someone… not you.

So, a new friend. Maybe. Or perhaps not, given the heat behind his eyes or the gentle brush of his fingers over your thigh— things that would normally stir you, but not tonight. Instead, you find yourself once again enchanted by a quiet Illyrian who’s wings are dangerously close to knocking over every trinket in your tiny apartment.

“It’s not much but it’s definitely comfier than than downstairs.” You’re not the type to be embarrassed by the amass of cushions and trinkets and keepsakes, but for reasons unknown, the quiet contemplation in Azriel’s eyes makes you feel the need to justify it, to seek his approval.

“It’s lovely.” He sounds genuine, and so you offer him a soft smile.

“Make yourself at home, I’m gonna get changed.” The dress is lovely— something saved for special occasions and nights where you need a boost, but it’s not for tea on your plush sofa, and the tightness is starting to wear on you.

Without waiting for him to comply, you pad into your dim bedroom, pushing the door to with your elbow and sighing with relief as you unclasp the leather band from your thigh. You would think by now that the band would have softened with time and use— but no, light red marks wrap your skin same as they do every night, and you scratch at them absentmindedly.

What are you doing?

Why is the Shadowsinger sat in your living room? And why will your heart not stop racing?

From the moment you’d seen him in the street, a part of you had relaxed and another awoken, fizzing down your spine with a heat so inappropriate for someone who clearly just needs a friend.

Your dusky sidekick— who hasn’t left your side for a single moment since left here again last week— tickles across your shoulder and settles at the shell of your ear.

Pretty.

You offer a chuff through your nose and an affectionate smile, before moving to unclasp the catch at the nape of your neck.

It’s done that since last time— since it’s master had given permission to speak, the little menace has evidently decided said permission was blanket, and never seems to waste an opportunity to whisper that same word directly into your mind.

Pretty. Clearly the strange workings of whatever kind of consciousness shadow can conjure—- there’s no way it’s reflecting Azriel’s thoughts. He’s the fucking Spymaster, for Mother’s sake, and you’re just some——

Pretty.

It’s said with enough oomph that you’re snatched from your train of thought inelegantly, laughing quietly into the dark.

“You okay in there?” His voice is low and rough through the wood, tugging at something deep in your stomach, and you take a long, steadying breath as you continue to struggle with your clasp.

“Yeah— the baby shadow is just flirting with me, I think.” There’s a beat of silence, and then his own voice is laced with a smile.

“It’s not a baby, it’s just small.”

“Oh, that’s much more normal. The small shadow is flirting with me, then.”

You hear a long-suffering sigh. “As long as you’re okay.”

And it’s at that point you realise your arms are aching, fingers still fiddling with metal clasps which just won’t budge. You could just rip it— you’d be forced to if you were alone, but it’s such a pretty dress, and maybe if you just asked, and he helped and stood real close—

“Actually, I could use a hand,” it’s out of your mouth before you’ve even thought it through, pink staining your cheeks in an instant.

What are you doing!?

The silence that follows almost ends you, heat crawling up your neck and turning your stomach.

You fucking idiot—-

“Sure, shall I come in?” Mother, his voice. Is it always that low? That rough?

You nod lamely, before remembering to use your words. “Uh, yeah. My dress is caught and I can’t get it to unclasp.”

He’s inside and stood so very close behind you before you’ve even finished your sentence.

The air seems thick, buzzing with what must be your imagination, but his soft breaths near the back of your neck make every hair stand to attention. Your skin is practically screaming for his touch, heart thumping so loudly you’re certain he’d hear even if he was mortal. With a swallow, you will your voice to come out even.

“It’s just the clasp at the top, it’s stu—“ the ghost kiss of his fingers at your skin renders you silent, eyes drifting shut in the dark.

Nothing but the sound of your gentle breaths fill the air as his calloused fingers smooth your hair across your shoulder, baring the curve of your spine— and that damn clasp—- to his hazel eyes.

You’re statue still as he works, deft fingers fixing the catch in a second, the band at your throat falling lax against your skin.

Two fingertips dance over sensitive flesh, tracing each vertebrae with such tenderness that your breath catches, turning to face him in the dark.

He’s so close your chest brushes against him, and you meet his gaze through your lashes, his pupils blown and expression almost dangerous.

“Do you know what you do to me?” Its whispered and gravelled and dances straight to your core, making your arms lift to loop at his neck.

“No,” it’s whispered. “Why don’t you show me.”

He’s on you in an instant.

*

The kiss isn’t timid, it’s hungry— large palms roving across your body and tangling in your hair until all you can feel, all you can think is him.

Your entire world shrinks to the smell of cedar and the feel of muscle beneath your fingers, each kiss stealing your breath and tightening your core.

He walks you backwards until the bed hits the bend of your knees and you fall, his massive body following to hover over you, a knee rising to knock yours apart as he settles between them like he was made to be there.

A hand slides down, down, down, smoothing across your stomach and hips and thighs until settling at your apex, and you moan, already soaking wet through your underwear.

“Fuck,” it’s a broken groan into the kiss, his deft fingers rubbing over cloth and making you keen beneath him.

But you’re impatient, hips rolling as your own hands seek the ties of his trousers, desperately pulling them away and down before palming at—- stars above.

He’s huge, and thick and hot and so hard, and you feel him shiver against you the moment you take him in your hand. A few deep, slow strokes and his lips move to your neck, the fingers at your underwear finally pushing it aside and pushing into you, curling to hit just that spot, and you’re sure you’re going to die.

“A-Azriel,” it’s panted out, and he licks a stripe up your throat as his hips roll into your hand.

“Mm,”

“I need you.”

His movements slow, tenderly pulling your underwear down and away, and then he straightens, hazel gaze burning across your skin.

Your dress is bunched around your middle, hair tangled, lipstick smudged—- but the hunger in his eyes only seems to grow as he looks at you.

“Are you sure?” It’s gravelled honey, and you reach up to grab at his shirt, needing him close again.

“Yes.”

And when he finally pushes into you, you’re both done for.

[rainbowpiss34]

Why I think Melvin Sneedly could have NPD. (Narcissistic personality disorder)

(also excuse the spelling mistakes 🥲)

For starters, in the books and show, Melvin has an inflated sense of self-importance and entitlement, he longs for admiration, he expects special treatment, he exaggerates (well I wouldn’t call it exaggerating because they are genuinly impresssive esp for a child 😭) his achievements and talents, he reacts negatively to criticism, he’s had multiple fantasies of having power, success, and beauty (big muscles/handsome), he takes advantage of others, he finds it difficult to empathize with other people who arent himself/has low empathy, he often behaves in an arrogant manner that can make others dislike him.

And while I would just chalk this off to him being a kid and that he could potentially grow out of these symtoms as an adult, it is clear that Melvinborg also has these symptoms. Melvinborg only cares abour himself and his past self, he comes back to the past with the Time Toad 2000 so he can make sure his past self goes to his dream school, becomes the principal/loves the power, and then makes the entire school Melvin-themed, covering the walls wifh phtoos of himself, made a robot song with him, made the lessons only towards helping Melvin, made the food what Melvin likes to eat, etc.

Melvin often finds it hard to understand other people’s pain if they don’t affect him, when the spanish teacher was crying all he cared about was the fact that he wouldn’t be able to learn another language which is required for his dream school. He longs to go to a dream school so he can be with people he sees as worthy of being with him/(since everyine in his school isnt as smart as him). He sees the level of education at his current school beneath his level/he sees himself deserving more (which is true tbh ).

In the books he likes the idea of there being a national day just for him, and likes the idea of other people fangirling/admiring him, of George and Harold (his perceived rivals) being beneath his feet/being his slaves. He sees them as beneath him because he’s smarter than them.

He takes advantage of other ppl and of George and Harold multiple times for different reasons, and he breaks promises many times/backstabs them without carrying about their feelings. But when George betrayed him back in the camp episodes when he reveals to Harold he’s not actually friends with him, he feels very betrayed and upset, and it shows how he can be hypocritical and sometimes forget that other people can also feel the same things he does.

With the whole thing with Erica, i feel like he may genuinly believe he’s inlove/has a crush on her, but its more of an infatuation/perceived crush because he likes how she looks and acts. Some people with npd may have a hard time accepting other people’s “flaws”, like how when Melvin dreams about Erica, he dreams of her fawning over him/(like the time he dreamed where he was saving her from aliens in space and she was admiring him) this is very out of character for Erica and it is clear Melvin doesnt like Erica for who she truly is. He may see the fact that she doesnt even like him as a perceived “flaw” rhat can be overlooked.

I beleive that Melvin is specifically a cerebral narcissist, they derive their self-importance from their intellect, believing they’re smarter than everyone else. I also think that with help, understanding and therapy, Melvin could learn to be more understanding towards how other people feel and to be more kind just for the sake of being kind. i do not think him having npd means that he’s just doomed to be an asshole forever. I like how in the show there are moments where Melvin can genuinely be sensitive and/or something good.

Its also really good to see how he chose for himself that he would save George and Harold instead of letting Melvinborg kill them, he chose other people (esp ppl he sees as his rivals) over his literal future self, and I think thats a good first step for someone who has a hard fime doing stuff for other ppl/usually onky thinks of himself.

Idk 😭 or maybe im just looking to deep into a literal fictional 10 year old boy idk guys 😅😅😅

I love him sm jfjkfkekfkdllfmgnrhf fkfkkgkfkghiosod

Let me know what you think! Also I do not have npd myself so if you do please tell me if im incorrect about somerhing! I tried to research but a lot of research out there about npd specifically tends to be very biased/kinda just bad so pls lmk!

[skzcollision]

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (3/7)

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Ever since that day in the lake, Felix has slowly been distancing himself from you.

He has cancelled on you several times now—apologizing over the phone about how he’s swamped with schoolwork and studying for finals or that he has plans with his family, a myriad of excuses really.

Trying to be understanding of his dilemma, you have yet to properly confront him about it. While it hurts to be avoided by him, you can’t help but blame it all on yourself. After all, you were the one constantly trying to push things further with him. Maybe he felt pressured by you. Maybe he thought you as corrupt.

Before you know it, graduation day rolls around and things are still tense. You get more and more restless every time you see him. Felix is always surrounding himself with others. Although people have always just been naturally drawn to him, he is never alone and it seems like a deliberate choice. He hasn’t so much as glanced in your direction. It’s as if nothing had transpired between you two.

When he eventually saunters off to the restroom on his own after the ceremony, you take this chance to ambush him. You silently follow him inside and lock the door behind you.

His confused expression turns to one of surprise when he whips his head around to see you there. “What are you doing here?” He asks, voice low and panicked. This is the first time he has looked at you in weeks.

“So it’s like that?” You say, sounding more hurt than you intended. “We’re just- you’re never gonna speak to me again?”

His initial shock falls away, replaced by a look of remorse. You try to mentally prepare yourself for whatever it is he has to say; that it had all been a mistake. That you should part ways from now on. It’s over, goodbye.

A lump forms in your throat and there’s a familiar stinging in the back of your eyes. You contemplate walking away from him before he sees you break down.

Felix steps closer—then in a blink of an eye he has you wrapped around in his arms. Your breath shudders, and you pause briefly before clutching onto him, his grip on you tightening. You embrace passionately as he apologizes over and over again in your ear.

“I didn’t plan to ignore you for this long, I just- I got scared… scared of what I’ll do, because- I started having all these thoughts about you that I shouldn’t and...” He rambles frantically, a hand coming to stroke the back of your head. “You make it hard for me to contain myself.”

A wave of relief washes over you, and warm tears spring to your eyes. “So don’t.” You say, turning your head, your lips touching the skin just below his jaw.

“I…” He nuzzles further into you, groaning against your hair. “I want you so badly, you don’t even know.”

“You have me,” you assure him, voice just above a whisper. You begin pressing open-mouthed kisses along his neck, each nibble leaving a wet trail behind.

A whimper slips past his lips, knees buckling for a moment. Then as if yanked like a puppet on a string, he straightens up, holding you still in his hands. “Please…” Felix breathes out slow, closing his eyes. He rests his forehead against yours. “I’m trying to be good.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, lightly pulling his head back. “Then be good for me.” You beg, gently nipping at his lips, desperate for him to touch the part of you that aches. “Give into me…”

He pants softly, composing himself the best he can before pulling you away from him. Your eyes are wet as you look up at him in anticipation. He’s pink in the face, staring at you with a certain intensity that resembles anger.

“Meet me in the garden,” is all he says to you before he’s unlocking the door of that restroom and walking out.

Now rid of the cap and gown everyone has been donning all evening, you find Felix outside in a simple, navy suit. In that moment under the golden cast of the setting sun, you think to yourself that this is the most handsome he has ever looked.

You’ve also stripped out of that ensemble, revealing a dress that had entirely been your mother’s choice, nearly the same shade as the salmon you had a couple nights ago.

“Hi,” you say, approaching him warily.

His dark, tender eyes behold you in a way that immediately renders you shy and vulnerable. There is a long pause of silence before he’s finally crossing over to you, hands cupping your jaw. He plants a firm kiss on your lips, savouring the softness of your mouth and not really moving much. It has you keening against him, sufficiently teased and pleading for more.

He then grasps the back of your neck, somewhat aggressive but still gentle, tilting his head to the side to deepen your connection. It’s a little sloppy, both of your inexperience showing, but the passion behind every motion makes up for it. Hands run up and down his chest, your small whimpers being swallowed up by him as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

You prolong pulling away for air despite your protesting lungs, desperate to stay attached to each other. Both of your chests are heaving once you do, lips pink and swollen.

His hand is on your wrist, taking you with him to a bench behind the storage shed, concealing you both from anyone who decides to come down to the garden.

“You had no idea how stressed I was,” you chide, tipping your head back when he tries to lean in for more kisses. “I thought… I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

His expression softens as he takes your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheeks. “Do you really think I enjoyed being apart from you? Of course not.” He inches closer to you, lips almost brushing against yours as he speaks. “I’m never going to leave your side again. I promise. Okay?”

And because you were never really planning on holding a grudge against him, you nod, closing the gap between you and capturing his lips with yours. He inhales deeply through his nose, head swaying back and forth as he kisses you with much fervour. You’re both already getting better at this.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

You grow more and more delirious with each press of his lips, his soft grunts of gratification igniting something in you. Your insatiable need to be closer to him outweighs any rational thought and you throw your leg over his.

Immediately, his hand seizes your thigh, pulling you onto him. You are pleasantly surprised with the way he’s responding to you now. That time away from you must have been harder for him than you thought, and only served to make him want you more. It is as if he went without food for days, and he’s having his fill now.

Breaking away from his lips, you adjust yourself on his lap so that you are properly straddling him. He screws his eyes shut as you move onto him, something firm colliding with the sensitive flesh between your thighs. Breathy moans linger in the heated space between the two of you.

“You okay?” You ask, eyes filled with concern.

“Y- Yeah, just…” His hands dig into your hips, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “D- Don’t move so much.”

A devilish smile stretches across your face. “Like this?” You tease, shifting forward and bucking your hips against him.

His head falls back, and deep, raspy groans tumble out of his parted lips.

No. You were wrong earlier. He is the most handsome right now. The pure delight on his face; nose scrunching in the most adorable way.

He finally opens his eyes, only to glare at you—the most he can manage at this moment.

A low chuckle rumbles in your throat, and you slowly trace a line down his neck. “What kind of thoughts do you have about me?” You ask, more seriously now.

His face gets so red at the bluntness of your question and you almost laugh. “Well,” he gulps as his gaze falls away. “I think about… touching… you…” He trails off, too humiliated to continue.

Your fingers graze his jaw, and you smile a little too innocently for what you’re about to ask him. “What if… you just show me?”

He sighs through his nose, timid eyes travelling down your body. “I- I don’t know how.”

You take one of his hands from your waist, eyes never straying from his as you place it over your crotch.

“Go on,” you nod, writhing impatiently on his lap.

His brows furrow in concentration, unsure fingers stroking you through your underwear. He glances at your face often to gauge your reaction.

Clumsiness aside, you find pleasure in the unpredictability of his slow and tentative movements—a touch very different from your own.

You sigh, jerking excitedly against his hand. This only spurs him on. A wanton moan rises from your throat when his hand slides past your underwear, slim fingers spreading and exploring your warmth. A familiar feeling builds at your centre. “Keep touching there,” you gasp as he nudges against the hood of your clit.

“Wow… you’re, um…” He clears his throat, fingers gliding through your arousal. “You’re really… really wet, is this normal?” He speaks quickly, undoubtedly feeling awkward about the sudden turn of events.

You laugh breathily at how clueless he is. “It just means I’m very aroused. It’s normal, don’t worry.”

His lips tug into a nervous smile. “Does it feel okay?”

You nod, leaning forward to kiss him. Words of praise are whispered to him each time you separate. “Put your fingers inside.” Your voice is ironically sweet, despite how crude your request sounds.

He pauses abruptly. “W- What? Why?”

“Please…” You whine, rolling your hips so that the tips of his fingers catch your entrance.

Felix looks up at you with wide, mystified eyes. “But tha- that’s… won’t it- won’t that hurt?”

“I’ll be okay.” You mumble reassuringly, hips sinking down slightly.

His fingers meet you halfway, and he watches your face with wonder. You whimper as two of his digits ascend into you. He’s hesitant when met with a bit of resistance, so you take care of the rest, grinding further down onto his knuckles. The stretch leaves you a little lightheaded.

“Still okay?” He checks with you again, his hand stilling beneath you.

“Mhm,” you stuff your crimson face into his neck, reeling from the intensity of it all. “Do you want me to touch you too?” Your hand lowers onto the front of his trousers.

Alarmed by the sudden pressure, his other hand quickly moves on top of yours. “You don’t have to.”

Your breath comes out in harsh puffs against his jugular. “I want to.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “You just- you seem overwhelmed. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You lift up from him, desperate for some friction. “Felix, I’m fine.” Your hand comes to grab his wrist, guiding him, helping him set the pace you like. “Curl your fingers a little.”

He catches on quickly and so you let go, hooking your arm around his neck. Your hips swing forward and back to meet him, mewling against his ear every time the palm of his hand makes contact with your sensitive bud.

The drag of his fingers makes your head spin; miles better than when you do it yourself. It‘s enough to erase any remaining bitterness you had towards him for acting like you didn't exist these past few weeks. Enough to make you forget even your own name for a moment.

It’s almost as if you blacked out.

Your release comes quicker and harder than it ever has, his shoulder muffling your euphoric screams. He’s pressing kisses to your temples, holding you and stroking your back as you tremble from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You laugh shakily to yourself. Felix can be slow at times, especially at understanding some of your jokes—but he’s a fast learner when it comes to things like this. It makes sense, considering how attentive he is in general. Always willing to learn.

He says your name. “You okay?” His brown eyes are soft, fixated on you with concern.

“M’okay.” You hum blissfully and press a wet kiss on his lips, whimpering against him as he carefully retracts his fingers from you.

Felix marvels at you as you take those fingers into your mouth, sucking your essence off of him. His curiosity quickly dissolves into desire and he crashes his lips onto yours, hungrily licking into your mouth. Just as he’s getting you worked up all over again, you both hear someone yell out your name.

It’s your mother.

“Shit,” you mutter, separating from Felix.

He sits up quickly, eyes going wide. Your legs are shaking when you scramble off of his lap and onto your feet.

“What do we do?”

You peek out from the corner of the shed. Your mother is standing on one of the paths not too far away, her round back turned to you.

“Uh, go ahead from this side. I’ll talk to her.”

He nods, not leaving before laying a quick peck on your lips. As soon as he starts up on the rear path towards the building, you fix your dress and hair, coming out of your hiding.

“Mom?”

She spins around, and her face is livid. Like an animal in danger, you freeze on the spot as she stalks towards you. “Is it true? What they’re saying around school?”

You only stare, dumbfounded.

“Have you been sleeping with Felix?”

Your blood runs cold. “What? I- I…”

Before you can say any more, her hand collides with your cheek—hard. Your head snaps to the side, tears welling up from the impact.

⭒

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

| taglist: @moasworld @beautifulixr @vixensss |

[rainbowsky]

Hello Rainbowsky,

Is Rocco using the 227 kadian a coincidence? If not, I really can’t understand why on earth did he choose that time to post.

I was happy to know that he defended WYB but I really felt bad when I saw the time.

Rainbowsky, what do you think?

With all due respect, Anon - and everyone else who has messaged me about this...

I am deeply disappointed by BXG these past couple days - more so than I've been maybe even in YEARS. Y'all are behaving like a bunch of toxic solos, many of you being blindly instigated by toxic solos who are manipulating your feelings for their own ends.

DD went to an event and had a good time, looked amazing - one of the rare occasions where he's not wearing a plain black suit - posted multiple amazing videos and photo sets, was the guest of honor and the most anticipated face of the evening...

And all anyone GAF about is this petty drama bullshit.

I've gotten so many messages about Rocco and the various toxic and often deeply homophobic rumors going around about him, about GQ and their supposed rift with GG, about this stupid F'n kadian, and I've had only ONE message about DD and how great he looked and how great it was to see him in such a casual feeling setting, looking relaxed and happy.

This is toxic fandom, in a nutshell. This is toxic fandom.

I had thought y'all were above all that. I really had. But it seems Tumblr really is no less toxic than Twitter. At least, that's what it feels like these past couple days.

What do I think of this kadian moment? I think that it was likely intentional, and I find myself laughing at how sassy he is. That's what I think. GG's fans were pushing a hateful lie about DD - which it seems like all they're good for these days - and flooding his photo post with comments about DD supposedly lying about his height, and his response was to slap them with the facts.

If the kadian was intentional - and I suspect it probably was - it was a slap on XFX, not on GG. Because fuck them, seriously. Fuck them for constantly dogging DD's every step with hate hs on Weibo. You've probably heard about so many of the attacks on DD over the last while. "Desperate illiterate", his height, etc. What you might not know is that every single one of them is orchestrated and pushed by XFX.

2/27 is XFX's shame (that sadly they have no shame about). It is NOT GG's shame. He did no wrong, and everyone knows it. His fans haven't learned a thing, and keep doing this kind of garbage, which might one day lead to GG's downfall or to another period of having to lie low in obscurity, etc.

The kadian shows the post to be directed squarely at XFX, where it belongs. Nothing more. The only people who will notice or care about it are the assholes in the comments arguing. Bystanders won't notice or care. It does absolutely NOTHING to harm GG. It just embarrasses and calls out XFX.

If DD can go hang out with and be the guest of honor for an event that is a huge feather in Rocco's cap, making Rocco look good in China and internationally - the man is getting a lot of accolades for the event - if he can walk the red carpet with him and be friendly with and have an obviously good relationship with him (Edit: and can hug him like a good friend), then no fan has any excuse for holding any kind of grudge against him.

There is no one closer to GG than DD, so if Rocco is OK with DD, he's OK with me. End of fucking story.

People who are reading into this all kinds of conspiracy theory BS need to go touch some grass. Seriously.

This is a fandom of GG and DD, not of Rocco Liu. Stop focusing on stupid shit, people.

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "The Price of a Life" the March Patreon Short Story

(warnings ahead for murder and implied, attempted assault, please take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

Rani grew up with neglectful parents and a little brother who was treated like he could do no wrong. While she was often tasked with looking after him, receiving the blame for any and all misbehavior, her brother was given pats on the head for being such a strong willed rascal.

It wasn't the easiest time growing up and as soon as she was able, she spent every minute out of the house, helping the miller with carrying sacks of flour, holding horses still for re-shoeing at the blacksmith's smithy and in the evenings she was wiping down tables in the tavern. 

Any excuse to stay away and earn some money was pounced upon without hesitation. She was soon known around town as the girl who accepted any job so long as someone paid her for it. 

No matter how rough and tough it was, she lifted her chin stubbornly and no matter how hard it became, she was determined to prove people wrong when they doubted her.

She learned who in town was corrupt and to be avoided, she learned who would attempt to exploit her and she learned how to recognize the glint in people's eyes that promised nothing but pain and misery on her end.

She learned just how hard she had to hit to take someone down, heart pounding with terror and adrenaline as she stood in a dark, damp alley. A stone smeared with blood was in her hand as she stared down at empty eyes. 

She learned just how deep she had to dig a hole to ensure no wild animals dug the body back out, painful bruises blooming on her skin.

She learned fast and she learned well. Her hands grew rougher than any other girl's her age, she became stronger than many of the boys and she turned into a ruthless negotiator with a sharp intuition for those who wanted to trap her into agreements that demanded too much of her.

Her parents rarely saw her, but the few times they caught her sneaking back home, they were scolding her for being a terrible daughter who was never around and she ought to hand over some of her hard earned coin, they had housed and fed her for years after all.

Rani moved out of her childhood home as soon as she was old enough and the blacksmith flagged her down for an apprenticeship right away. It was hard work, but Rani was used to that and in the evenings she still went around, doing odd jobs for a bit of extra coin.

"I heard that unruly brother of yours got tangled with some unnatural folk," she heard her master say one day, almost half a year after having moved out of home.

They had some massive horses in today and they behaved well under her steady and reassuring hands. She had learned early on that animals liked it when she gave them a feeling of comfort and security, that they liked her calm and quiet words.

"I genuinely don't care," Rani answered, the black mare snorting and finally relaxing, lowering her head and her ears perked. 

She was a sweet one, but a different blacksmith had once badly hurt her while shoeing her and now she got worried and scared easily. It was understandable, in Rani's opinion.

The blacksmith hummed, a low noise that seemed to rumble in his barrel chest. "No one's seen him in a week, people think he ran into the Blood Lords."

Her hands stilled for a moment. Everyone knew of the Blood Lords, of the monsters that called the cursed city beyond the forest their home. Endless rumors surrounded that place, one worse than the other. Anything and everything could be bartered away in that place, from souls to blood and even someone's own children.

The Blood Lords never left their cursed city and while some speculated it was because they couldn't, they didn't need to either. Not when there were people desperate or foolish or arrogant enough to seek them out anyway, thinking they could weasel out a deal in their favor.

Rani had always thought that even her hardheaded brother knew better than to tangle with creatures which knew neither pity nor compassion.

"He'll be back soon, I'm sure," she said, though a part of her was sinking like a stone headed for the bottom of a lake. "He's old enough to start adventuring away from town. He's probably trying to get to the king's city and he'll turn around when he realizes it's a bad idea."

The blacksmith hummed, low and sceptical and Rani felt just as doubtful of her own words. What if her brother had been stupid enough to go to the cursed city? A place shrouded in eternal fog and with the taste of death so prominent in the air it made all but the most foolhardy or desperate flee in terror.

At least, it was like that according to rumors.

Rani focused on her work, but once she was sent away by her master, instead of seeking out one of the people who usually needed an extra hand, she headed to her childhood home. It had been the first time since she had moved out that she had gone back.

She half expected her brother to pop out, scaring her half to death and laughing at her face and the angry but secretly relieved lecture she'd give him. She half expected the little shit to have been hiding somewhere, watching as people fretted and worried, giggling to himself.

What she found were her parents crying their eyes out. Even before they looked up and spotted her in the open door, their hopeful faces falling with disappointment upon seeing that it was her and not her brother, she knew the truth.

Her brother had, indeed, been stupid enough to tangle with the Blood Lords.

"You must save him," her mother began, tone half accusing and half an order, as though she blamed Rani for this situation.

Rani turned on her heel and strode away, angry and worried in equal measure. She had always ended up stuck with cleaning her brother's messes. Had always had to face the anger of anyone he had played a prank on, getting scolded and told to keep him in line, because her parents slipped away from their responsibilities whenever they could.

She was sick and tired of being dragged into their problems, into being blamed. Her parents were two perfectly healthy adults, they should handle this.

She stomped all the way home, to the tiny little apartment over a general goods store she had rented. She passed by the alley where she had fought that terrible man, the rock she had used still lying where she had dropped it. Any blood on it had long since gotten washed away. 

No one had ever found out what had happened to that man.

She owed her brother nothing. In fact, she had told him multiple times to be more careful with his pranks and jokes, that one day he'd bite off more than he could chew. That he had sought out the Blood Lords was as laughable and nonsensical as a louse trying to tear out a wolf's throat. What had he been thinking?

She told herself that it was most likely already too late to save him. The Blood Lords took everything they wanted, they were considered even worse than the fae knights that rode through the forest during full moon nights, luring the prettiest lads and lasses out of their homes to whisk them away for forever.

The Blood Lords lived off of blood and souls and the screams of the anguished and tortured, their veins filled with dark magic and malice. According to rumors at least.

But there was always a kernel of truth to rumors, wasn't there?

Rani stared into her cramped little space, gritting her teeth, until an enraged snarl ripped free and she grabbed her cloak and shoved some things into her satchel before stomping out the door again.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Then check out my patreon! Or the masterlist, for more of my stories and other patreon story previews. Enjoy!

[viburnt]

Hellooo ! Can you write about bakugou being our bully since we were kids?? Loveur contect!

Heya! Anon, you didn't give me more specifics so I went with the "boys are mean when they like you" route. Hope you like this~

CW: Bullying, emotional manipulation, threats, coercion, angst, dark content

Childhood bully Bakugo

There has to be a reason for Bakugo to bully you since kids although, to be fair, anything could've triggered that reaction from him. Quirkless? Chasing after a big dream? Perhaps you are better on something he is not. Or maybe people likes you more! Whatever the reason is, Bakugo's grip on you gets progressively worse with time, not as bad as Deku's dynamic with him, but still.

Bakugo's mom likes you a lot, by the way; she always encouraged you to play with his sonny. If only she knew...

As a kid, Bakugo would tend to pull your hair whenever you were too happy about something, sometimes sticking gum to it so you'd have a hard time later. Something about your smile made him feel...weird, and don't get me started with your laughter. He also disliked how much adults and classmates praised you when you did a good job. Why? Because he's supposed to be the best! So if it was him who did good and got praised, he'd look at you with the most smug smile a kid can make and start saying things like "See? That's how you do it! Maybe learn."

Sometimes, just sometimes, he'd be a little bit nicer, scaring away other bullies that would annoy you. Your tiny brain couldn't understand why, so you'd only thank him and scurry away.

Don't get me started with Deku. If you had a nice friendship with Izuku as a kid, Bakugo used that as an excuse to be even more mean to you. "Friend of a loser is also a loser". Besides, he hates seeing you with the freckled boy, even after growing up. The blond can't pin point what bothers him so much about it, but he truly wants to vanish Deku with his own hands whenever you chitchat with him. He'd tease the greenette telling him he was your boyfriend of sorts, but he stopped once he realized Izuku actually liked you. It angered him to know that, getting rough with you.

Teen years of course allowed you to be more adventurous, and while you may have changed a lot, Bakugo was still the same prick to you and Izuku. How Bakugo behaves depends on your personality: if you allow him to bend you until you break, he'll do, just like how he did with Izuku. If you don't get bothered anymore by his antics, he'll retaliate. The only way you had to reduce his antics was to fight back. Mitsuki, Bakugo's mom, always asked why you stopped visiting; you never had the guts to tell her.

Highschool was an odd period for you an Izuku, but not weirder than your time in UA. Bakugo would hang out with his "friends" and annoy you in every given chance. Low grades? He had better ones. High grades? You were such a nerd. Trying to make new friends? He'd scare them away from you because he hated the idea of someone else being with you. Bakugo was the dragon of your tower, scorching any possibility of running away.

If you had the balls to stand up for yourself and Izuku, he'd get pissy. "How dare you talk back to me?" But he wouldn't do more than yelling. It's weakness that makes him worse, being passive triggers a violent response from him because "Why are you not paying attention?" He'd hide your stuff, throw out your books, write things on your desk. He wanted a reaction. Bakugo needs to know he is getting through you, he needs to know he is on top of you and owns you.

The beginning of your stay at UA was a bit scary, specially because Bakugo's behavior got amplified by the opportunity of being "the best". He was already angry that Izuku managed to get in (it surprised you too, honestly, but were happy for him), so you getting in too was a plus. Izuku and you were still very close because of your shared experience with the blond, both of you wary of the reality. Bakugo despised the way you'd protect and take care of Deku, to the point where he warned you that if you continued, you'd make it worse for Izuku. Low-key coerces you to bully Izuku because otherwise he'd do something bad to him, and you knew what he was capable of.

There's a high chance that Bakugo bullies you because he can't bear how you make him feel, but that's another story. Overall, Bakugo is the kind of bully that isolates you from others and hates when you're doing good. The kind of bully that enjoys making you scares because it's the only form he has to get to you, living rent free in your head like a nightmare. He low-key accepted that it didn't matter if he was a monster, he'd be your monster. A vice grip you wouldn't get rid of.

You stand in front of Izuku's desk, hot salty tears rolling down your cheeks as Bakugo holds out a permanent marker for you to take. "What are you waiting for? Do it!" The blond yells, growing impatient as you shake your head. "I'm gonna beat him to a pulp if you don't do it, is that what you want?" He laughs, hearing you sob.

Bakugo wanted you to write mean things for Deku to see, so that Izuku could see how much control he had over you.

"Please, don't make me do it!" You cry, hugging yourself in fear. Katsuki grunts, yanking the cap of the marker and approaching you. The black tip of the tool reaches your face, his hand scribbling something.

'Crybaby'

"Don't wash it, or else..."

Tags: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @imaginationmess @shionancientsblog @trickster-kat

[j3ff3rs0nhshdhsk]

True love pt 2.

He raised his hands to your abdomen. where he slowly went down to where your panties and stockings were, he hooked his two fingers over those two pieces of clothing, slowly lowering them along your thighs, knees and feet, throwing them to the floor.

He began to caress along with a malicious and mischievous look on his face, he took one of your legs, lifting it, putting it on top of his shoulder, he licked his lips when he saw your wet entrance, he moved closer to you, pressing his penis, pressing the tip at your entrance, which made you involuntarily raise your hips from bottom to top, he continued playing with your part until he abruptly put his big cock inside you, making you moan loudly, he moved out and in. His penis quickly moving his hips, having your orgasm almost close with a single thrust, but Jonathan did not decide that, he turned you face down still inside you, leaving your ass exposed, he raised your skirt to your waist, caressing your ass, he passed, he raised his left hand and began to spank you, making you scream more with pleasure, wanting to know what else your dear boyfriend could make you feel, he continued spanking you, making your ass red, again he began to move this time a little slower than previously

He stopped spanking you to continue feeling his cock inside you passionately, he moved his hips against your ass previously beaten by your man's big hands, you were so close to coming that he began to accelerate the pace making the bed move faster and take off from its place and your tits bounce up and down in a sudden/passive movement When you finally came, he left his penis inside you, filling you with semen. He slowly took out his penis, leaving a thread of semen running down your vaginal entrance. You fell defeated on the bed, breathing quickly. He gave a long and heavy sigh, he grabbed you by the waist, turning you around, making you look into his eyes, he moved your sweaty hair away from your face, he put your face against yours, joining his lips giving a long, tender kiss, with one hand he caressed your hair while with the other he touched one of your breasts on the fabric of your dress with flowers, he stopped kissing you, raising his hand from your chest to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb, he He gave a cute smile, closing his eyes a little, still looking at you with love.

Jonathan: you know… I really didn't want to say this, but I've been deceiving you all your life, I'm sorry I've threatened you, beaten you and I've never taken you into account but you know… I regret everything I put you through, I know it's not your fault and I'm aware of that, but I never wanted to hurt you I hope you'll forgive me, it's no excuse I really love you, I was a fool to behave that way, I deserve all your hate

You were just stunned, you didn't know what to say, to which tears began to roll down your cheeks, you couldn't believe it, you were being deceived… and even worse, hearing it from your own boyfriend was a very low blow for you, he saw you with a worried expression and sad eyes, he just hugged you, remaining surrounded by his arms, you just let yourself be carried away and you squeezed his shirt tightly, having to hold your weaknesses to yourself because you were really already crying and broken by What happened, Jonathan ran his hand over your back trying to comfort you, but the damage had already been done, they stayed like that for a few minutes until Jonathan broke the silence and with a new proposal.

Jonathan: listen, I know you are devastated by what I said, but… I have a proposal for you, it may or may not suit you, I don't care if I want to be with you, I know I ruined it but I REALLY want to fix it, I don't ask for anything in return I just want you to accept me… accept this new me, I swear to God for whatever it is, I will never do this again, and fail or I am not a man of my word and I will never, please understand me… I love you

You were not completely convinced but there was a hint in his voice that made you have hope that everything is real, not just because of the feelings and words, the same words that once made you feel like a coward and useless were now sincere and full of pure love, you just nodded your head wiping your tears still sniffling.

Jonathan: that's right baby, I will be faithful to you, I will never behave like a jerk again… I will fix everything that I did wrong to you so that you can smile again and feel safe even if I take risks I will always be there for you, no matter what we go through we will always be together, it is our little promise, let's enjoy all the moments together until we get old…

[carnivallsarchive]

18 & 28 from the ‘weirdly specific’ asks for juve (bc i want to study and observe her) and oreste (bc you haven’t posted about him much but i still desire to Know Facts)

implying juve wouldn't be studying and observing you right back... interesting.

18. Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

this question is... complicated, for juve. not least because she's so certain she understands feelings like love, while also being completely serrated from her own, while also thinking that her complete understanding of feelings like love is why she's actually so serrated from her own. there are layers happening here and juve is my favorite low empathy onion.

but also, for what it's worth. since she was about fifteen, juve has been wearing her girlfriend (term used questionably here, since they were girlfriends in all but name, but specifics do tend to matter to juve) safini's form and presenting as her to the wider world, attempting to overwrite and 'fix' the existing story in which she killed herself. she's stepped into safi's life and, in her own mind, kept it going past its ending point, trying to help her now in a way safini 'wouldn't let her' while alive. like sure, safi messed up by ruining her story like that so soon, but juve will make it all right now!

and juve can offhandedly tell herself that she's doing this as a favor to safini, or as a fuck you to safini's 'narrow minded' view of her situation, or whatever other dismissive excuse she likes, but the fact also remains that she has spent about three years now preferring to cosplay as her dead girlfriend rather than grieve her. and i don't know if that's love, but i do think that juve's feelings for safi went a little deeper than even (or especially) she cared to admit, and scorn and substitution are... much easier ways of dealing with All That, for her.

oreste is also complicated, but for different reasons– he spent so much of his adolescence trying to gaslight himself into feeling unconditional love for another (survival tactic) (adopted into being his physically volatile quarantined cousin's emotionally incestuous throw pillow) that right now he's actually trying to be weaned off of offering it. instead, he's being made to work on cultivating his sense of individuality, or just Anything Other Than A Fawn Response regarding his interpersonal relations (with juve's very kind, if unasked for, help).

so, if asked this question, oreste would automatically say well, he loves kai– but he'd already be checking to see that kai was in earshot to hear him saying it, and the smile would not entirely reach his eyes. because it's either that or 'get thrown across the room with the force of a star exploding because kai doesn't know how to regulate his emotions (which are reflected into his magic) and his mother has decided keeping him happy and giving him anything he wants (which includes oreste) is more important than teaching him how to handle disappointment in a non destructive manner.' and after a certain point in repeating your lines, and having your head cracked against a wall when you're not convincing enough, well. it's easier to condition yourself into believing that you mean it as well. or the situation becomes just a little too unbearable to live with.

28. What do they tell people they want? What do they really want?

juve tells people what she largely considers the truth– she wants to help them. she wants to make them the best versions of themselves, and she wants to be the one supervising each step of the process. she wants to give them suitable character arcs, and be able to step into their shoes by the time they cross the finish line.

and honestly, it's not too far off from what she really wants, if a little more altruistic and less neurodivergent than reality. fundamentally, juve wants to be in control, and she wants people to make sense. it's hard for her to connect with people as equals because they're not her, and they dont behave as she would, and juve knows this but on some subconscious level she also can't understand it. because people are messy and unpredictable and strange and juve isn't. juve makes sense.

so juve would rather take the people in her life and boil them down to a few choice traits, motivations, flaws– she'd rather force them into summarizable boxes, and flatten them into palatability. and, as a skinshifter who primarily uses her magic to interact with the world around her, juve thus figures she can understand people best by becoming them, and again making them make sense by putting them back on track with satisfying and logical arcs (fun fact: it is this exact mentality that blows up in her face regarding hess, when she miscalculates the best way of getting her to open up) (she also miscalculates how okay people are with being treated as psychological dolls) (play stupid games win stupid prizes).

essentially juve is a neurodivergent author stuck as a character in a story. and unfortunately for her there's no fourth wall break that gets her out of this one, but rather just respect for the narrative confines. smth smth the narrative here is not a narrative but life itself (while also on a meta level being a narrative) (just play with me in this 2:50 am space)

oreste meanwhile hits on a similar but opposite vein to this notion: if asked what he wants, he'll pause, stare like he expects a trap door to open under his feet at any moment, and awkwardly say he wants whatever the other person wants. oreste is someone who has been so beaten into submission that he now struggles to exist outside of caring for others' desires, leaving his own shoved down somewhere far away from where he can reach.

so, what are his own? again, tricky, since oreste is so detached from them– but honestly? i think he just wants a nice life. a very basic, nice life, away from his current gothic nightmare. a wife, maybe. kids, someday. to stop feeling kai's eyes on the back of his neck even after seven years have passed away from him. maybe the attention of kai's aloof but very pretty and funny (dyke) twin sister. just stuff like that.

[blankwashed]

Sleepless Shadows (Part 7)

Chapter: I II III IV V VI VII

Once again, thick silence filled the air. Satoru didn’t know what to do because let’s be honest, what was there for him to do? Coax you? Well, he already apologized but will that heal you? A simple ‘sorry’ won’t mend things for you, especially after being treated like some kind of used, soap. Additionally, did you think the motel would care if they heard screams? Of course they wouldn’t. The place is run-down and practically a living habitat for rodents and cockroaches.

Thoughts raced through your mind, “at least I don’t have classes tomorrow” was the last thing you wanted to think about. You were heaving and clutching on your violated area, trying to stop the pain but you knew that it was impossible. What's worse than that was that it was emotional heart break, nothing physical.

The ability of talking to your lecturer at this moment was the last thing you desired, yet here you were, alone with him.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me I know this isn’t an excuse for you to forgive me but—“ Satoru himself was crying as well while he apologized again but he was interrupted by your louder wails.

“YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND!” You managed to yell out, making him come closer to you. You felt degraded but in all reality, you were the one who brought this on yourself wasn’t it? The entire story from going to the university that late at night, bumping into him and agreeing to have supper with him.

“Be a good girl, study and stay in school, don’t mix around bad company.” You could still remember your parent’s advice before they waved goodbye to you, dropping you off at Jujutsu High. What have I done?

Satoru felt remorseful and regretted everything that he had done that night. Getting sexually aroused by his own student, be it you were of age, still to be something looked down upon. He yelled with a low voice, upset at himself. When he committed to being an educator, vowing to safeguard his students from the world's dangers, he never foresee that he would also become a source of harm.

This made Satoru feel puzzled; the entire time, he believed you were crying due to him physically harming you.

"Y—You're not mad at me for what I did to you?" he asked softly, choosing his words carefully. You shook your head, averting your gaze. He approached you and gently wrapped his arm around your body again, pulling you close, "Then why are you crying, my angel?" "B—Because you only used me for my body..." As you uttered these words, Satoru immediately enveloped you in a hug, his arms comforting your shoulders, while he tenderly caressed your hair and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. This unexpected gesture caused your heart to wrench in pain. Why was he behaving this way, toying with your emotions? He tenderly stroked your head and planted a kiss on the left side, whispering, "Dear, it's not only your body, what a silly thing for you to assume,"

Confusion washed over you, given the previous mistreatment your body had to go through; it seemed improbable that he truly cared about your well-being.

"Hmm, my apologies, dear. I've been imagining this for a long time, and I couldn't control myself," he admitted while gently blowing air on the area where you were hurt, causing you to wince in pain.

You fell into silence for a moment, processing the words. "Did you mean that, Sato?" you cautiously asked, holding your breath as uncertainty lingered regarding your lecturer's intentions.

"A hundred percent," he assured, offering a genuine smile before tenderly kissing your lips once more. It wasn't a gesture of a sexual nature, but rather filled with affection. As his lips met yours, a warmth of genuine emotion passed between you, eliciting a smile within the kiss as you felt the sincerity in his actions. "Once again, I apologize, my dear. I got carried away earlier. I'll take full responsibility for that," he expressed remorsefully, wrapping his arm around you for comfort. "And I think it's best to take you to the hospital, just to be safe. We need to ensure everything is alright. Tomorrow, when we get out of this ditch," His reassurance was accompanied by a gesture of support, as he offered to cover the hospital expenses, easing any concerns you might have had. "You don't have to worry, darling. I'll take care of everything," he added with a gentle smile, emphasizing his commitment to your well-being. At that moment, despite the lingering pain, a sense of emotional relief washed over you. It almost felt surreal, as if you were living in a dream. The throbbing ache was still present, but your mind seemed to shield you from its intensity as you reflected on the situation. Turning your gaze towards Satoru, you noticed the genuine concern plastered on his face, yet he attempted to offer you a reassuring smile amidst his worries. It was a comforting sight, knowing that despite the unexpected turn of events, he was by your side and genuinely cared for your well-being.

;_; im crying for y/n. she's gone through alot..

[joe-moi]

https://www.tumblr.com/joe-moi/741857551046590465/sooooo-why-the-hell-are-ppl-going-around-saying?source=share

I just saw this in the tags and it is just super frustrating. The vomit emoji story and him getting sick on a fan are clearly made up. People can just say whatever they want on the internet. I said this on the other post and I'll say it again here.

As an introverted person, I'm constantly having to stick up for myself against people who call me rude, just because I'm not outgoing. I'm a super nice person, it just takes me a long time to open up to people. Seeing fans called Joe rude just because he doesn't have the same energy he had in the beginning makes me feel so bad for him, cuz I know how it feels. And since he wasn't ACTUALLY rude to people, now they're making up stories to make their so-called negative experience seem more sensational.

And here's where my opinion might turn really controversial. Con culture sucks. It's a money making machine, it's chaotic, and it's expensive as hell. I say this is someone who used to go to many cons. I'll never go to another one, the fans behave badly (not all, but enough of them do to ruin the experience for everyone), and the stars clearly get fatigue after a while, which is understandable because they're human beings. People are saying "I spent my hard-earned money and Joe seemed bored so I hate him forever." Well if you're going to spend hundreds of dollars on a 10 second interaction and you're mad he didn't do a cartwheel, I feel like part of the responsibility is on you and your expectations.

Sorry I'm just really fed up with this whole narrative.

I totally get it! And I do think people who have negative experiences are allowed to voice their negative experiences, but I think it’s also very good to go into a con with very low expectations. That way if you have a great interaction, you’re surprised and happy, and if you have a maybe not stellar interaction, you’re not surprised about it.

I also am not going to make any excuses for him being standoffish towards people, because to be honest, you do pay a lot of money for that and I think you should be able to at least have a couple sentence interaction with him, and if he’s tired of the cons, then he likely should not be there. But unfortunately, he was the one that signed a contract and he has to fulfill that obligation. Again, it’s another one of those you made your bed now you have to lay in it situations.

but I do think people need to be a little bit bit more understanding that there’s a lot of people that come to these things, and he needs to have time to see all of them if they spent their hard earned money to see him, so you’re not going to have a 20 minute meet and greet, you’re going to have a 20 second interaction. That’s not for you, if you would rather meet somebody and spend time to actually meet them, there are other people at the con that will give you more attention. But don’t expect it from Joe. Because you’re not gonna get it.

If you can’t tell, I’m very 50-50 on the con situation. I go into it, knowing what to expect, and that is not a long interaction and if I’m shy and nervous, he’s going to mimic that. And if I go into it, happy smiley and talkative. He’s going to mimic that. Also, I really have an issue with people who ask for hugs or something special and he doesn’t give it to him and they get upset… He doesn’t owe anybody anything

[9ofspades]

I think I can get behind your first bullet! My issue was regarding the label and moral condemnation, not arguing with the effects, which, yeah, naturally that can be stressful! And I also like that it’s not insisting it will be stressful no matter what; some people are oblivious or impervious enough to handle short periods of the described behavior. But effects aren’t enough to condemn a person of "abuse", imo. I think it's enough to just talk about how it will stress people out or make the person very difficult to be around.

Having both been and been around people who've been like that, I don't think the issue is with concrete vs abstract examples. I think it is... well, a very small part the fact that you disliked Maxim XD not to victim-blame*! But mostly the fact that I rather liked the narrator from the start and never changed my opinion on this, and was very frustrated with Maxim the first time he lost his temper with her (when he was all "You can walk home, bitch!" because of her low self-esteem, which was messed up, and he didn't even have the excuse of being triggered!), and also during his proposal, when he was RIDICULOUSLY condescending and all "you know very little and understand even less", and the way he calls her a "child" and patronizes her throughout. But it's also possible that part of this was because Maxim seemed so Proper and polite when we first met him (tolerating Mrs. Van Hopper's gaffes), and the narrator compared him to someone out of Arthurian legends, that maybe I expected a lot better of him and that's why his flaws hit so much harder than they otherwise might have.

But I feel like Maxim is trying to eat his cake and have it too with the narrator, where he sees her as a silly child sometimes and likes the guilelessness and honesty and youthfulness, and will explicitly insult her ignorance, but also wants her to be the more emotionally put-together one so that he can have his secret ~memories~ and cite them as good reasons for brooding or yelling or throwing temper tantrums without ever telling her anything about them. Like I said, he's a Gothic Man.

But, just to be clear, this isn't affecting my enjoyment at all! I don't think I'd like the book better if Maxim were better-behaved. I'm having fun hating on him! But I do appreciate and welcome non-spoilery insights if I'm being unjustified in my criticisms or ignoring certain contexts for his behaviors! I know everyone is allowed to hate on characters for no good reason if they want, but I want to have GOOD reasons for wanting Maxim to fall off a cliff.

That's fair! And THANK YOU for the heads up! And I suppose that's fair - the narrator should be someone who looks a bit generic and not noticeably pretty. Like a lot of extras in British TV, maybe. Since there's no description, there's no way to do it wrong, exactly, either.

That is FASCINATING and I'm very glad that the fic writers have not left us disappointed!! After I made the post about Robert Jordan, I did go on AO3 to see if anyone had written a version where the extremely evil messed-up orgy-having queens had stayed in charge and just continued on their evil way, but unfortunately there did not seem to be any fics for that book.

Having reached that chapter while awake, it turns out I was not wrong! The narrator really DID describe Mrs. Danvers's grief in a very sapphic, intimate way!! She knew Rebecca's voice and laugh and how she walked, and what her eyes looked like, and she couldn't help but resent someone else taking Rebecca's place... the YEARNING! And, of course, because the narrator is the one thinking of this, I can certainly see De Winter 4 De Winter (1x2? De Winters? Des Winters? Blizzard??) being a lot more shippable for this as well.

I was wrong about Frith - he never had a warm-and-fuzzy conversation with the narrator. The parts I thought came from Frith came from Frank Crawley, actually (both Fr- names, so that makes sense!), but on listening while conscious, the conversation made me not fully trust what he was saying, for whatever reason. I'm really glad the narrator got that bit of support, but it wasn't nearly as touching as I'd thought while asleep, and it turns out my dreaming mind did put a bunch of things in there that weren't in the text.

This is also very true - he probably did want to marry someone as different from Rebecca as possible! But I do wonder if there are ways of being different enough for him while still being prepared... I'm sure the fic writers have takes on this, though, so I shall wait and see!

Again, emphasizing that I love the narrator and do not think most of the things happening are actually her fault at all! I'm just curious about how, hypothetically, Rebecca would have tried to haunt someone similar-yet-different from her.

I appreciate that!! While I'll make fun of an author for having a thinly veiled fetish, that's because it's funny, not because I think it's possible to say with any degree of certainty. Maybe they're drawing from their predecessors, at least one of whom had that fetish. Maybe they're asexually fascinated by a form of degradation. Anyway, I do want to make more of an effort to avoid trying to draw conclusions about a writer from their work - if they actively shared something about their past and it informs their work, that's certainly helpful and can inform the understanding/analysis, but writing something that makes me uncomfortable doesn't mean an author is a flawed person in a relevant way. It's possible! All things are possible! But, like you said, the book is *supposed* to be haunting/disturbing, I think the discomfort makes sense. The narrator is also super unsettled by that encounter. I did find it interesting, though ^^; that we had very different reasons for being so deep-down squicked out. And I didn't actually realize that stereotype was so common re: deceitful idiots! But that makes sense - even today there's the perception that people with disabilities might be faking it to prey on others' sympathy. But then again, Maxim's the one who says it, and Maxim does a great deal of things we don't like, so I don't have to accept him as a mouthpiece for Du Maurier.

I hadn't thought of Maxim's distractedness or subconscious "I want her to mess up so that's less like Rebecca"! Those are very interesting and excellent points. I did suspect the unexamined privilege bit, where this was all so second-nature to him that it would never have occurred to him that the 'dear little thing' (love that btw, that's so accurate) wouldn't know it just from osmosis from spending time with him. But also... you're right about the distracted/self-centeredness. Definitely also possible contributing factors.

I have no arguments with the Doylesian explanation! We love to see our new bride so wrongfooted and making all of the gaffes!

I didn't realize it was common for wives to be expected to handle all the social stuff themselves while the husbands did Big Important Things! I think my perception might've come from the aristocratic ennui where men just sat around at gaming tables and hardly did anything, but that might've been a younger son thing; for all I know Maxim has genuinely important things to do. Hmm.

Extremely fair re: Nick! I do think everything else he did seemed very sweet and endearing; which was what made the lack of warning so jarring! I thought maybe that was another "I didn't know how to explain all this because I'm so used to it" situation, and that maybe he expected to deal with something similar with his girlfriend's family; but then again, he knew his girlfriend's family wasn't like that. Maybe he thought she'd be used to it from all her experience in academia? Or maybe he's just a himbo who doesn't think of things like this, which might be a dealbreaker for me, but wouldn't necessarily be for anyone else (I knew someone whose boyfriend wanted to surprise her with things like motorcycle rides or mountain climbing, but then wouldn't warn her to wear sensible shoes or pants, because it never occurred to him that women had nice date-clothes you couldn't climb a mountain in. Which I thought was thoughtless, but it turned out that actually this was simply typical himbo behavior) I'd actually forgotten that little old ladies scene, but that is DELIGHTFUL! You're right; that is an excellent trope and we love to see it.

*I think in this context you're the victim of my long rambling posts.

Funnily enough, I started reading it because I heard it was impossible to adapt to film but people kept trying and failing, and I was very curious about what kind of linearly structured book-with-a-plot could be impossible to adapt. I’m starting to get it now! But I’ve completely forgotten to keep that question in mind while reading it because Mrs. 2’s awkward missteps are TOO RELATABLE D: she went for a handshake and he took her coat! She didn’t know the way and pretended to and went into a SHED instead of the morning room!!! I feel like I have done exactly that and then gone “oh no I MEANT to do that 😤” before. Because I am a cat, apparently. Anyway, it’s very good and I’m enjoying it but man Maxim is being a DICK! I feel like he married her because she takes his mind off his grief instead of because he actually loves her, and the poor thing doesn’t even realize!! I think my next question would be whether you’d seen any of the films and where they fell short, or how you’d try to film it if you had to, but actually I should ask that after I finish at least a first listen-through. I fell asleep while listening so there are parts where I don’t know if they actually happened or I just dreamed them, but if the touching conversation with the butler actually happened, then I would absolutely KILL for him. He’s so good!!! But also I was definitely dreaming at the same time and there were dorm rooms and bunk beds involved so I cannot rely on my impressions; it is possible he said nothing of the sort and was instead just being an ordinary butler. It is possible that this strange delirium lends another, very appropriate layer to this novel.

Huh, I admit I hadn't thought of Rebecca as unadaptable (in part because it has been adapted, though I haven't watched any version of it yet). On the one hand, it is a psychologically and emotionally intense novel that makes a lot of use of character's interiority, but on the other hand, the characters are willing to dramatize their emotions and personalities through dialogue and action (including the relatable awkward bits you mention) and the occasional gripping image! Surely A24 could find someone! (Maybe whoever did The Brutalist? Which I haven't watched yet either, but I have entertained myself by reading mutuals' reactions and reviews and at least one person has described the industrialist's awful family as Gothic.)

My Cousin Rachel had a film adaptation a few years ago that I thought was both faithful to the book and effective, although it didn't get a big response.

I don't recall if the butler Firth has any charming conversation in the novel, though it's possible; if nothing else I think he's the nicer staff in comparison to Mrs. Danvers. Though I love Mrs Danvers...probably in the way the book might prefer I feel for Maxim.

Re: Maxim being a dick because of grief, I need to keep reminding myself you're only partway through the book and I shouldn't reveal too much. It's true that "spoilers" don't always impact people's enjoyment of a book, but this is a story that unfolds in a really effective way and I cannot tell you anything more entertainingly or impactfully than Du Maurier can. And yes, the hazy delirum is definitely a fitting approach ;D

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[l-lend]

Warning(s): fluff, swearing (if I miss any please let me know)

A/N: alright @kelpiesummer and @ghostlythunderbird let's get some plot moving yeah? Great. I owe the two above a lot especially some of the dialogue, themes, and ideas in general. Let's get into it.

Sunlight crept along the floor of a bedroom as the largest of the brothers snored away in his bed. The sheets crumpled around his form before a phone buzzed. The springs of the mattress groaned softly as he rolled over. His hand blindly groping for the device as it buzzed again. Cracking open an eye, he was greeted with a couple of notifications. Lips tugging into a grin as he read the messages.

Morning

and no I didn't sleep at the garage last night.

He chuckled as his finger tapped the screen for a reply.

Glad you slept in your bed. Pretty sure it was better than that cot.

After he waited a moment, he rolled out of bed to start his day. A pair of pajama pants to keep himself decent, and the off-duty officer headed downstairs towards the alluring aroma of breakfast.

The compound was not too noisy at this hour. Crosshair never graces the common areas until the afternoon unless necessary. Tech keeps to himself either in his room or out in the barn with his car. He might make an appearance for coffee, but that was few and far between if he was getting ready for a race. Two of his siblings were already in the kitchen by the time he trudged in. The younger of the pair offering a wave while her mouth was occupied with a slice of toast.

“Morning Wrecker,”

He nodded his head in Echo's direction before taking a seat next to his sister. Another buzz rattled in his pocket before he fished it out, earning him a sideways glance.

“When do we get to meet your girlfriend?”

A surge of heat washed over his cheeks before he cleared his throat.

“I..I don't know 'Mega. Nessie's a bit shy.”

Echo looked up from his eggs sizzling away on the stove.

“Nessie? Like the monster?”

“The chances of a plesiosaur surviving in Loch Ness with no proof of its existence are staggeringly low.”

Tech approached his siblings before diverting to the coffee maker.

Wrecker sighed, “Yeah, it's a nickname her friends gave her, but she's real nice just...shy.”

Echo furrowed his brow, “Why not see if she wants to join us for dinner?”

Wrecker mulled it over.

“Hunter and I will get Crosshair to behave.”

The larger man tapped away on his phone. The phone laying silent on the counter once he was done. A plate gently clattering on the counter brought Wrecker to view the pair of eggs and small mountain of bacon offered. He began picking at the meal while casting glances at the screen in hopes of willing her reply to appear. Tech excused himself once his thermos was refilled only to return minutes later.

“Wrecker, I regret to inform you that your car won't start.”

Wrecker frowned, “Was running fine yesterday.”

A small object clattered against the countertop, “Perhaps a call to a mechanic is in order.”

After a quick call to Nessie to explain the problem, Wrecker got up from his meal. He had his mission laid out in his mind, and no one was going to mess this up. Not even him. Echo watched with an amused smirk as Wrecker propped up one of the couches as if it weighed nothing. The commotion of furniture being moved and the roar of the vacuum drew another brother out of hiding. The tattoo on his face wrinkling as he took in the sight.

“What's gotten into him?”

“Girl he's been talking to is coming over.”

Hunter nodded in understanding, “Should we...tell him she isn't going to white glove inspect the place?”

Echo mulled in over, “Maybe after he does the bathrooms.”

The purr of Nessie's motorcycle signaled her arrival to the compound. Her bag weighed down with a few tools that she may need sat along her back as she adjusted the straps to sit better. Wrecker had already stepped outside at the first sounds of her bike pulling up. His smile growing as she doffed her helmet, color already spreading adorably along her cheeks.

“Glad you could make it.”

Her lips curled at the corners, her eyes drifting away from his face.

“It's no problem. Wouldn't be right to leave you stranded.”

“Well, let me show you where it is. I parked it by the barn.”

Despite the multiple times spent together in a short time, butterflies fluttered in her belly as she accepted his offered hand. The silent gesture of fingers entwined being the only tether to keep Nessie grounded in the here and now. Her lips pursed as she took in the view of the stationary Tahoe.

“So it just wouldn't start?”

“Yeah,”

“No burning smell, grinding sound?”

He shook his head.

Nessie chewed on her bottom lip in thought as she slipped off her backpack, passing it along to Wrecker. She felt along the crevice until she popped the release to lift the hood. Everything appeared in order, however her shorter stature proved to be a bit of an issue.

She glanced back to him, “Do you think you could lift me up?”

“Sure, just let me...”

Her heart began hammering in her chest as his hands gently held her hips. Despite her increased heart rate, she felt completely at ease as he held her over the vehicle. Her eyes scanned over the parts leaning forward in his hold.

“I...think I know why it's not turning over.”

She leaned further forward into the compartment, fingertips grazing an empty socket.

“How did you lose you-” The hand that was keeping her steady slipped from the compartment. Her eyes pinching shut as the chassis got closer. After the feelings of being jostled, Nessie peeked open to see Wrecker glancing down at her while she was held against his chest. Neither one of them daring to move for a moment.

He then brought his face closer to hers. The seconds stretched with bated breath. However, as his nerves got the better of him Wrecker began to retreat, the tiny mechanic closed the distance pressing her lips to his. He remained still for all of a moment before he responded. Their lips molded together seamlessly. They parted for air after a minute or two; Wrecker grinning down at her while Nessie's cheeks burned.

“You alright?”

Nessie could only nod, yet a smile cracked across her face. Wrecker eventually set her back on the ground but let his hand stray. His fingers swiping against her cheek with surprising gentleness. The heat from her cheeks plainly felt by his fingers.

“Spark plug.” She finally said, earning a look from him.

“You're missing one. Car won't start without it.”

He nodded before the quiet was broken by his little sister calling his name.

“Well, uh...wanna stay for dinner?”

The teen retreated indoors swiftly returning to the kitchen.

“Okay, I called for him.”

Echo merely shook his head, “I could've done that, but thanks.”

Another brother soon entered the kitchen taking in the lineup for dinner.

“Special occasion?” He grumbled around his toothpick.

“Wrecker brought a girl home to meet us.” Echo replied, jerking his head towards the window.

Crosshair scoffed, “What's wrong with her?”

Echo leveled a glare at the racer.

“Does it matter? She makes Wrecker happy.”

Crosshair's soft huff was the only reply before he took a seat as he rolled his toothpick between his teeth.

In no time at all, dishes loaded down with tonight's meal as each of the siblings plus their guest took places around the dining table.

“So uh...Wrecker says you're a mechanic for work?” Echo probed.

Nessie nodded at the question, but when she lifted her eyes one of the photos hung in the adjoining living room her heart stopped.

“Yes...um, second....generation.”

Hunter's gaze narrowed before following your line of sight. He hummed at the picture in question.

“Do you like bikes?”

The mechanic stayed stock still. Breathing becoming much more of an effort with each person's eyes on her. The lights from the kitchen seemed brighter all of a sudden. She swallowed feeling the grit from a dry throat start to form. Something warm slipped under her hand and curled around it offering a gentle squeeze. She turned to find Wrecker's gaze. A smile reassuring her to press on.

“I..I work on motorcycles for a living. It's...kind of my job.”

Hunter lifted a brow and nodded, “That happens to be Crosshair's bike.”

“Do you wanna see it?” Wrecker cut in.

Before the mechanic could reply, Wrecker had engaged in a staring contest with one of his brothers. The one he challenged sighed flicking his toothpick onto his plate.

“Fine. But don't touch.”

As soon as dinner was done, Wrecker gently guided her towards the attached garage. Her hand still resting in his since he offered his silent support. It just felt right to experience his comforting warmth. Although when the lights in the garage fell on the blacked out motorcycle, Nessie's heart was in her throat.

“I think Cross mentioned it was-”

“an R1M. It's.....pretty tricked out.”

“Well, yeah. He races a lot.”

Nessie's gaze caught each detail from the bike. Each of its specifications ringing a bell from a tune up order she had earlier from her garage's own rider.

“Wrecker,”

“Yeah?”

“Who does Crosshair race for?”

At hearing the answer, the mechanic felt the undeniable chill of her soul leaving her body.

Oh fuck, Bird's gonna shit when she finds out.