#because he likes him so much- he can't deal with the idea of looking ridiculous in front of him by wearing something like that
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multishipper-baby · 1 year ago
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Since drawing Derek as a bunny boy I've been thinking about that more so uh. Have another horny post rip.
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suksatoru · 1 month ago
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'𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎'𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓!'
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àł„àŸ€àżâ™Ą ˊˎ- you surpise your beloved mentor satoru gojo by baking him a birthday cake with your boyfriend megumi!
ê˜Žâ™Ąâ‹†ïœĄËš megumi!fushiguro x reader!
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"We bake it?"
The hopeful gleam in your eyes is almost too much for Megumi to bear as he sighs, looking away from you with a grimace.
"Come on Gumi, it's his birthday! He's been so busy lately too, you know I checked his schedule - he has class with us! On his birthday of all days!" You exclaim, eyes wide and determined as Megumi rubs the back of his neck with a sigh
Baking a cake for Satoru Gojo seemed ridiculous - the man had enough money to buy himself a much more sophisticated and professional cake than you two could ever make.
But the idea of baking something with you - images of you in an apron with flour smudging your pink cheeks had Megumi's defensive hand lowering. His eyes narrow a fraction, and he seems to be in deep thought as he stayed silent - staring at you and contemplating your request earnestly.
You smile is full of optimism as you wait patiently for your boyfriend to respond, gently interlacing your hands with Megumi's in a way he simply could not resist - it seems the deal is sealed when he lets out an annoyed sigh.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" You squeal, not even giving him the chance to get a word out as you pepper his face in kisses - stumbling over your feet as you reach over the bed you two were sitting on and fumbling with your laces, hastily tying your shoes.
"I already ordered the ingredients! I just need to pick them up now- meet me in the kitchen in half an hour Gumi! Bye-"
Megumi rubs the spot on his cheek that you had kissed as he watches you leave his dorm room - you're practically bursting with excitement, and he can hear your hurried steps running down the hall as he smiles softly to himself
It didn't take long until you were absolutely coated in the ingredients - pink frosting was smeared on your lips after Megumi took a taste of it from a spoon and promptly kissed you right after- and unfortunately for you, there was undoubtedly enough floor in your hair to make a small cake with leftover batter. He managed to stay mostly clean, but your case was a whole different story.
You're sitting in front of the oven watching your creation rise with a proud smile - Megumi cleans up the mess the two of you made in the kitchen, his eyes occasionally drifting towards you as he wipes down the counters.
"Ten more minutes-"
"Eleven." You correct, not tearing your eyes away from the cake residing inside the oven as you lick your lips - the frosting coating them from earlier soothing your hunger just the slightest bit as Megumi lowers himself onto the ground beside you
"He's being treated like a damn princess because of you." He mumbles, and you lay your head in his lap with a laugh as he brushes the few sprinkled bits of flour on your brow line
"Mmm. Maybe. I hate to break it to you, but he kind of is a princess."
Your comment gets a snort out of Megumi as he ruffles your hair gently before placing a kiss onto your scalp. His nose was dusted with the flour from your hair when he sat back up, and you can't help but giggle softly at the sight
It's not too long until you're icing the words "Happy Birthday!" onto the pink and blue cake, Megumi's hand guiding your hand as your trace the letters. His hands are steady and his cursive so beautiful you almost want to cry out of adoration.
"How do you write so wonderfully?" You question softly, watching Megumi's arm move with his uniform sleeves pushed up while he worked diligently
"I'm a god." He mutters, standing back to admire his penmanship with a genuine smile on his lips. You almost agree with him - his handwriting truly looked like it was pressed straight from a fancy printer.
"Yeah - stop drooling Gumi. Let's get this boxed up!" You squeal, grabbing the box you and Megumi prepared to package Satoru's gift in as he rolls his eyes with a grumble, handing you the neatly cut ribbon to wrap it.
He watches how carefully you place the cake into the box, your lips pursed as you package Gojo's cake with a patience that was rare for your hyper self.
He loved the sight in front of him - the girl he loved baking with a type of devotion that stemmed straight from the core of your heart. The dim kitchen light gave you the appearance of an angel, and Megumi wants nothing more than to freeze time and live in this moment with you forever
"I love you."
The words move past his lips before he can even process them in his mind, but he doesn't seem to regret them at all as he stares at you with those eyes - the ones that have your heart fluttering in your chest.
"I love you more Gumi bear!" You sing-song, a small part of you ecstatic with the fact that Megumi allowed himself to be vulnerable with you in this moment, mumbling the sacred three words he usually only whispered in your ear during his most intimate moments.
You're immediately jumping into his arms and practically tackling him with your hug - he mumbles a quiet shut it into your cheek as you laugh
Yes. He'd like to live in this moment forever.
┆ ° ♡ ‱ ➔ ✩ ◛ °
"A gift? For me?"
You nod happily, and the smile on your face has Gojo leaning forward to pinch your cheek affectionately
"I know this was all my sweetheart Y/n's idea - right Megumi?" Gojo questions, turning to the dark haired boy with a bright grin as your boyfriend merely rolls his eyes
"Well, open it. We spent a long time- "
Gojo lifts the heavy box placed on the table in front of him, shaking it with your precious cake inside hard. His enthusiasm is shooting right through the roof as he examines the box with a thoughtful hum
"Heh. Definitely something hefty inside there, am I right?"
Megumi face palms as you stand there slack jawed- blinking back your horror
"Uhm-"
Gojo shakes the box again, harder than he did the first - missing the way you wince.
"I can definitely feel something shaking around in there. Ooo can I guess what's inside? It's matching pajamas for all of us! Am I right??"
As for being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in history, he certainly wasn't the brightest one all the time.
Nonetheless, the night ended with the three of you eating spoonfulls of the mushed cake inside the box, your head in Megumi's lap and Gojo's laughter so loud it was heard classrooms over from the one you all were in.
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obeymefictionwriting · 2 months ago
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Brothers on Your Anniversary!
This blog honestly gives me so much life, thank you so much for reading and enjoying it! I hope you'll love this hc as much as I do <3
Lucifer
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Lucifer has been planning your anniversary like half a year in advance
Meaning, the guy is C O N F I D E N T
You might think he'd be the type to take you to a fancy restaurant and such but he will actually plan the date according to your specific preferences
Doesn't mean he won't get you a huge-ass bouquet with the rarest Devildom flowers
Is actually pretty nervous since it's his first ever anniversary in a relationship and he is a control freak and want it to be perfect for you
Will kiss your knuckles softly and will then twirl you around, effortlessly spinning you in a smooth dance
Gifts you an intricate and beautiful pendant with his love confession engraved on it
"I'm looking forward to the eternity with you by my side, my love"
Mammon
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The day will be 10000000% dedicated to you
Shopping spree, any restaurant you want, any activity you wish to try - just say a word
Holding hands 24/7 everywhere, proudly showing you to literally EVERYONE
"Dat's right, dat's my baby and damn we hit 1 year together!"
Is so proud of you being near him that he almost tears up
Poor boy has never had a relationship and is now determined to keep you forever
At the end of the night, will blush heavily as he wraps his arms around your waist and leans in for a kiss
"I'm s-so happy we are t-together...Thanks for dealing with my dumb ass..."
Levi
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Decides to surprise you with a kick-ass 3-course dinner cooked entirely by him, obviously
Is EXTREMELY nervous but tries not to show it
Gets you a matching set of pjs and a super cute necklace
Proposes to watch some anime or movies and secretly hopes you'd say yes, because he doesn't feel like going out and wants to be just the two of you this evening
Holds your hand all the time
Plays with your hair lazily and grins
"Can't believe got a person like you to be my partner"
Satan
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Classic romance is his thing
Be sure he'll take you to a small and cozy but ridiculously expensive place
He'll insist you two dress up because "the occasion is so very special"
Out of all brothers, is most likely to propose on your anniversary
After dinner, will probably take you to the nearest park; champagne and blanket ready
(oops, a momentary cat distraction)
Showers you with affection and can't keep his hands and eyes off you
"Kitten, I'm honored to be loved by someone like you"
Asmodeus
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Mhmmm an anniversary... so exciting!
Plans out a whole day dedicated just to you two
Spa, fancy dinner, shopping, massage - all included!
It's the first time ever for him to care so much about someone else and he is dedicated to make this day unforgettable
"I have a special something just for you"
RENTS THE WHOLE RESTAURANT TO SLOW-DANCE WITH YOU IN THE CANDLE LIGHT
"Honey, you have immense power over me and I surrender to you now and forever"
Beelzebub
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He loves you so much that he actually wants to make it NOT about food
The things is, he has no idea what else to do... like... sports, maybe?
You notice how tensed he is and directly ask what's up
Reluctantly agrees to your offer to just eat somewhere and then cuddle home with snacks
"I tried to think of something unique because you deserve the best"
Wraps his hands around you and won't let go
Offers you head massage and just uses any excuse to touch you
"Y'know... You are my dearest person"
Belphie
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Actually MAKES AN EFFORT
An attic, stargazing, a bottle of wine, and amazing fruits and sweets - just how good does it sound?
Presents you with a photo album filled with your mutual photos; a sweet note going with every photo
"You made my life full of memories that I'd cherish forever"
Kisses you softly all the time and braids your hair delicately
Loves this moment of peace and happiness but is a teeny tiny bit worried you might have preferred something more outdoorsy
"Just stay with me always, okay?"
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sky-high-standards · 1 year ago
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Yandere Master x Female Slave Reader
(Warning read your own risk and if you don't like it remember I warned you)
You where a slave of a very wealthy master who treated his slaves very well.
It was a peaceful life you did house work and looked after the pets and you were extremely lucky to have a kind master but the one downside to this peaceful life was Marcus your masters nephew who came to visit his uncle every summer.
Marcus treated the slaves terribly and unfortunately you had to serve him when ever he came, but as the years went by Marcus started to warm up to you.
Marcus: Hey slave come here, lets play house I'm the husband and you're the wife.
Y/n: Yes master.
Marcus: Just you wait when I get bigger I'm gonna make you my real wife.
You never understood why he would say such things to you but you would understand soon enough.
(You are 17 and Marcus is 19)
Summer finally came and Marcus along with it. Marcus had become very attractive over the years but you still saw him as your master's annoying nephew, but Marcus had seen you as much more than a slave.
Marcus: Hello y/n.
Y/n: Hello Mast-
Marcus: Please call me Marcus.
You gave him a confused look but complied.
As you worked you could feel Marcus's hawk like stare on you as if he was ready to pounce on you but you tried your best to ignore this but it only got worse from there, he would now touch you inappropriately and personal space was now nonexistent when he was around so you tried to avoid him but he always managed to find you.
Pretty soon it was clear to everyone that Marcus harassed you relentlessly exept your Master who was the one person who could stop this.
As you where walking down thd hall minding your own business when suddenly pushed you into a dark room and pinned you to the wall it took your eyes a minute to adjust and where surprised to see Marcus
Marcus: I cant hold back anymore I love you y/n I have ever since I was 6.
Y/n: What?
You didn't have time to react when he smashed his lips onto yours you tried to escape but his strong grip kept you in place, he only pulled apart when you were breathless. You took this opportunity to escape by stepping on his foot.
He yelled in pain and you ran straight to your master he told him about how Marcus had harassed you and he was not happy about it. He called Marcus in and they had a long conversation about it.
(Your masters name is Alfred)
Alfred: Marcus why Abuse my slave like this.
Marcus: Uncle you have now idea how much I love her and it took a great deal of strength to hold back for this long.
Alfred: Gasp a relationship between you two would be ridiculous and its clear she's not interested.
Marcus: She will learn to love me and don't care whether it's ridiculous or not.
Alfred: You will never lay a hand on her for as long as I live now go.
Marcus: You can't keep her away from me uncle!!!
Alfred: I said go.
After that Marcus didn't bother you for a while but good things dont last a week later your Master died of unknown causes and because he had no other family besides Marcus he got everything your master ownef including you.
From then on you were locked inside of the master bedroom where Marcus would "show you how much he loved you" if you know what I mean.
"My dear now you see I would even kill my own flesh and blood just to have you, now you belong to me."
Okay my lovely single pringles ik what ur thinking and ik i wrote this in grade 6 and i recently edited>
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just-wrting · 4 months ago
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Feeling Fangs Part 3
Title: Feeling Fangs Part 3
Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader 18+
Word Count: 5.2k
Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Summary: You and Katakuri end up saying, and doing, what’s on your minds.
A/N: I thought about not putting smut in this, but since I had originally planned the trilogy with it getting smuttier as it went on, I kept it. I don’t think there will be a part 4 unless people want one, but there might be little add ons of things I wanted to put in but didn’t.
You look at the boxes with suspicion. After opening them, you decided to study what was in the boxes, looking for clues. It took some time taking each box apart, laying each piece in a vertical line on the dresser. There isn't anything else in the box, just the dainty jewelry.
You pick up the necklace and watch as the chain slips through your fingers with ease. The color suits you perfectly, it's something you would buy for yourself if you had the money. It's clearly expensive, the card in the box labels the gemstone as authentic. Whoever bought it must be fine with spending such a large quantity of berries on you.
You place the necklace back in the box. Nothing appears out of place with any of it so maybe you should wear it, but you can't bring yourself to do that without knowing who it's from. Should you try hunting down the jeweler and asking who bought them? It's a terrible idea, though slightly tempting.
Sighing, you put the boxes back together. There's no point in thinking too hard about it since your husband knows who gave these to you. You debate on the idea of it being a gift from him. As unlikely as it seems, part of you wants them to be from him. Even if you'll feel guilty for not realizing sooner.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you think back to what proper conversations you've actually had with him. He's always been polite and attentive when you talk, never really pushing for more than you give. It made sense that you opened up to him. Not to mention he's always been attractive.
The guilt starts to creep in the more you think about it. Was he just being nice since you were forced to get married or was it something more? What about all the times that he checked up on you like the time you went to your father's funeral and got attacked? Did he have feelings for you or was he trying to make the most of the situation?
You fall back into the covers, curling into a ball. Thinking about this makes your chest hurt in ways you didn't think you'd ever feel. It's your fault he's stuck with you and he's been doing his best to deal with it. Meanwhile, you sometimes sit around and feel a bit sorry for yourself that you got caught up in an arranged marriage because of your father. You wouldn't change who you're married to anymore, but that doesn't change the feelings you've had in the past.
Shoving your head into the pile of pillows, you try to stop thinking about it. Nothing's going to get resolved by feeling bad all alone. You need to wait until you can talk to Katakuri about it before you can deal with these feelings. Even if it's confusing and frustrating. Even if you'd rather pretend like these feelings don't exist.
The door clicks as it opens and you groan. It's probably just someone else here to bother you as it has been for the past few days. You wish people would stop bothering you with ridiculous things like asking you to have your husband show up at certain things so they can be happy. Why can't they just leave him alone?
Pulling the pillow from your head, Katakuri looks down at you. You smile softly, reaching out for him.
"Come here," you mumble. "I missed you."
His gaze softens as lays down next to you. Reaching up to touch his face, you gently squish his cheeks making sure he's real. After a few pinches, he grabs your wrist and presses a kiss to your knuckles.
"There's no need for that," he scolds. "I am very much real."
You place your head against his chest, listening to his heart beat. "But I missed you. I just want to know that you're really here with me."
"I promised to come back, why would I leave you?"
You close your eyes as he starts to comb his fingers through your hair. "Because you're just stuck with me. I was scared of being hurt so you had to marry me of all people. You never had a choice in the matter, I'm sorry."
"Do you regret it?" His voice is soft, and you know that he might break depending on your answer. "If you weren't forced to marry into my family would you be happier?"
"I don't think so. Being here with you is the happiest I think I've ever been, so why would I want to be somewhere else?" You start to rub your thumb across his cheek. "I think you're perfect."
"Even though I'm not?"
You let out a laugh. "Katakuri, what do you think of me? Just this once, tell me your honest opinion of me."
"I-" he clears his throat. "I think you're perfect as you are."
You poke him. "But I'm not perfect. I'm not strong or capable of things nor do I have a lot of money or agency. I worry about a lot of things, I have terrible habits, not to mention we've barely started acting like we're married."
"That doesn't matter to me. I'm strong enough to protect you." He's earnest, like he's managed to get your point. "You don't need to worry."
"That's not my point, Katakuri," you laugh. "My point is that I'm not perfect, but you don't care. So it works both ways. You may not be truly perfect but you're perfect to me."
His eyebrows furrow for just a moment. "I love you just how you are."
"Huh?" You tilt your head back to look at him.
"I should change, I have blood on my clothes."
He gets up abruptly, making your head spin. Maybe you imagined what he had said, but the change in his demeanor leaves you questioning. What's the rush to get clean when he was just laying in the bed?
"If you say so..." you mumble to the air. "Though I'm not sure what the rush is."
You sit up and stare at the bathroom door. There's nothing better to do than wait for him to get back. Confronting him about it seems unfair, so maybe you should do something to put him at ease. You're not sure what would be best.
Thankfully he doesn’t take long, the door opening to reveal him wearing a fresh pair of leather pants. All of the extra spikey bits have been removed, meaning he won’t tear the sheets this time. It’s nice to see him just a little bit more casual, and you do your best to not stare at him. Not that staring at him would be weird, you are married after all.
“I think it would be nice to see you in other clothes sometime,” you say awkwardly trying to start a conversation. “Not that there’s anything wrong with what you wear now.”
“Like what?” His question seems genuinely curious.
Your face flushes in embarrassment. “I’m not sure, I didn’t think before I said that.”
Katakuri chuckles as he lays back down beside you. He pulls you close as you continue to ramble.
“To be fair, you’re really attractive so you’d probably look good in everything. Maybe you should try something that’s popular? Not that I know what’s popular. And like I said I think you like nice in what you currently wear, it would just be a nice change of pace.”
He starts to play with your hair again, just nodding and humming when he thinks he should respond. You feel more foolish with every word, but you can’t really stop yourself from talking.
“Maybe something formal? I recall that you didn’t wear a suit to our wedding which was unfortunate. I get that it was a bit rushed, but I would’ve like to see that.”
The soft smile doesn’t fade from his lips as he muses. “You sound like you wish to dress me up. Are you unhappy that I wear the same thing?”
“Not at all! I never thought I’d like someone with your type of aesthetic, but I don’t mind it. To be fair I never thought I’d be happily married to a pirate, but here I am. I suppose it helps that Ive fallen in love with you.”
Katakuri goes still. “What did you say?”
You process what you just said and turn away from him. Your body feels like it’s on fire from embarrassment. How could you just spit that out so casually? Was your mind truly not there anymore as you rambled on?
“D-don’t make me repeat it! If you heard me say it once that should be good enough.”
“Even if I want to hear you say it?” he asks, turning your head to face him.
Upon seeing the flush in his cheeks, you get the urge to tease him again. “I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear me say?”
Katakuri looks away and gives a small nod. He’s really flushed for a man who said ‘I love you’ first.
“I love you, Katakuri,” you say with a grin. “I love you a lot. I love a lot about you. Do you want me to tell you what I love about you?”
You watch as he gets even redder. He’s adorable like this, and you really enjoy making him flustered. There’s something so sweet about him getting red and embarrassed when you compliment him or kiss him.
“I love that you’re so cute like this. I love when you-”
He presses his lips to yours, silencing you with a kiss. It’s frantic and warm, leaving you wanting more. You reach up to pull him in for more, when he pulls back.
“Don’t tease me.” His voice is stern, but it doesn’t work on you, not when he’s this flustered.
“Or what? You’ll kiss me again? Maybe I want you to kiss me more.” Your voice is gentle. “I really enjoy kissing you.”
“Then I won’t do that.”
You stroke his cheek. “Then you’ll bite me?”
Katakuri gives you a pathetic attempt at a scowl. “No, you’d like that too much.”
Pretending to pout, you lean in to try and get a kiss. “So? I just like you, that’s all.”
He pulls you into his chest, and you listen to how fast his heart is beating. If it was beating any faster, you’re sure his heart would burst from his chest. Just from listening, you start to get flustered and wonder if your heart is beating just as fast.
“Is my heart beating as fast as yours?”
Katakuri looks down at you briefly before closing his eyes. “How would I know, do you expect me to check?”
“You could put your head on my chest and listen. Don’t you want to see if I’m embarrassed?”
You don’t need him to tell you that you are. You can already tell that you’re embarrassed. The only reason you can keep saying things like this is because you really just want to see more of the cute flustered side of him. He’s absolutely adorable like this, and it melts your heart each time.
He doesn’t answer but twists until he’s able to rest his head on your chest. The two of you have never cuddled like this, but it’s far more comfortable than you thought it would be. He’s the world’s prettiest weighted blanket, and you feel your worries melt away. You’ll make sure to do this more often, seeing as it’s so comforting. Though to be fair, just sleeping next to him is comforting.
You gently comb his hair, scratching at his scalp. There’s no sound from him, but he buries his head further in your chest. It’s like you’re nothing more than a pillow, and you chuckle at the thought. You realize he’s asleep when you do as he makes no movement to get you to stop.
Wondering what could’ve made him this tired, you softly tell him all the little things you like about him. Very little makes him exert a lot of energy, so he must’ve chosen to skip sleeping. Did he power through without sleep so he could come back sooner?
As you think, you let your eyes shut. You find yourself losing the battle against sleep due to being warm and comfortable. You couldn’t even move if you wanted to.
—-
You wake up to an empty room, the clock reading four in the morning. Whatever he went to go do must’ve been important, as there’s no note. Normally there is one, tucked under a fresh bag of berries. Today, there’s nothing on the nightstand. Maybe it’s a sign he’ll be back sooner than you expect, but that’s not always the case. Sometimes something urgent came up.
You decide to finally go through your clothes. It feels impossible to have accumulated this many clothes, but somehow you have. No matter how hard you think, you can only recall buying two or three things, so how did it pile up this much?
Unable to remember which section you put all the stuff that didn’t fit in, you resign yourself to trying everything on. Anything that doesn’t fit or looks bad on you will get tossed. You faintly remember seeing a secondhand store, so you’ll just put everything to the side and double check. Better for it to go to someone else considering some of it still has the tags on it.
As you struggle getting into a dress, you try to remember how you even got it. It couldn’t have been a gift, you don’t get many of those, but it’s not something you’d willingly pick out and buy. That when it hits you, almost literally. The price tag swings from the sleeve, boasting a hefty price. The shopkeeper must’ve made you try it on after noticing that your husband was buying you everything you tried on. How much money has this man spent on you?
As you toss it into the pile, you think back to the handful of times you’ve gone shopping with Katakuri. He’d pay for everything, buying you almost anything you looked at. Sometimes it was nice to get something you wanted, but clearly most of it just sits around wasting space. You’ll have a talk with him about his spending habits, but maybe you should try to sell some of this instead. Your mind spins at the thought of adding all the tags up.
Both breakfast and lunch come and go without any sign of his return. By now, you’ve tried on most of your clothes and emptied your closet quite a bit. Almost everything you brought with you from three years ago doesn’t fit, but that’s not really a surprise. Dessert is served with every meal including tea time, so it’s hard to stay away from the sweets. Not only that, but it has been three years and a lot changes during that time.
You’re left with the things you wear all the time such as the clothes that have become your style and pajamas, along with a few fancier clothes for important occasions. Nothing more than what you need honestly, and it feels so good to be free from the things you hated seeing in the closet. The only thing left for you to deal with are two elegant cream color boxes that you had shoved in the back. You know what they are, you’ve just never opened them.
The delicate ribbon slides away with a single tug, and you hesitate as you grip the lid. These are from your old friend, one sent for your wedding gift and the other for your two year anniversary. With any luck, she’ll send you another box in about four months. You only know what’s in them from the letter that was attached to each one.
Deciding that you can’t torture yourself with the apprehension, you rip the top of the box off and look inside. For something that’s been sitting in a box for years, it looks perfect. The color matches your eyes, and you hate to admit that you kind of want to try it on. You know it’ll flatter you, it’s something that looks good on all who wear it.
Holding it up to your body in the mirror, you feel your face flush. It may not be the most exposing thing you’ve ever seen, but it would be the most exposing thing you’ve worn. You can’t even remember the last time you wore a swimsuit, let alone lingerie.
The fabric is soft and slips on easily. It stretches, and somehow fits your proportions even after almost two years in the box. It’s surprisingly cute, and you hate that you feel that way. You know that she sent these to make you flustered, actually feeling that way is just letting her win. After all, she did suggest making the most out of being married to a pirate by getting as much money as you could, even telling you that you’re attractive enough to get it through your looks. Not that you ever felt the need to try, you’ve been spoiled without ever asking.
You give it a little spin in the mirror, before you start to feel silly. Why are you even flustered? You’re all alone in the room, and you have no real intention of wearing them for Katakuri. Not that you wouldn’t pay to see how flustered he gets, but you wouldn’t be able to look at him. All you are doing is finally seeing what ridiculous things your friend made and sent you. After you try them on, you’ll put them back in the box and shove them back into the dark where you’ll pretend they don’t exist.
Opening the other box reveals something that is somehow even more risquĂ© than what you’ve currently got on. Most of the material is mesh and lace, with the most covering coming from a short zipper in the back. Just looking at it makes you feel like a pervert, and you hesitate after taking it from the box. Maybe this one should just get thrown into the fireplace and then you’ll be free.
With a sigh, you swap your outfit, struggling with the zipper. After what feels like an eternity that has your arms burning, you finally feel it go all the way up. You clasp the little hook at the very top to keep it together, and a sense of accomplishment flows through you. You managed to put it on and at least you can say you wore it.
Looking in the mirror, you realize that it shows more than you originally thought, and you grab your robe. The closer the robe is to you, the less you’ll have to explain if someone forgets to knock. This is the only time you’ll be grateful that your door is loud when it opens. At least you’ll have a split second to cover up.
You reach behind you, ready to take it off. The clasp takes a lot more finagling than you’d like, but eventually slips loose. You roll your shoulders as they burn with lack of use, waiting for them to stop hurting so you can get the zipper. Unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side, as the zipper refuses to go down.
Struggling to reach it, you try to look in the mirror to see why. The angle doesn’t help, as your hands and arms just block your view. Sweat beads on your forehead as you squirm. After a moment, you give up. You can’t reach the zipper, so you’ll just have to find a pair of scissors and cut it off.
As you pull open a drawer, you hear the click of the door. Scrambling for cover, you crouch behind the bed and peer over. You don’t want anyone to be entering the room, and you squeak when you see that Katakuri has come back. Of all the times to show back up, he picked now?
“Why are you hiding?” he asks, closing the door behind him.
Your face flushes even more than you thought possible. “I’m not hiding! I slipped so I’m resting.”
“Rest on the bed.”
“No. I’m fine on the floor.”
He starts to walk towards you, clearly unhappy. “Can you not get onto the bed? Let me help you.”
“No! Don’t move!” You hold out your hand. “Don’t come closer.”
“So you are hiding something.” His eyes narrow.
You break eye contact. “No, I’m not. The zipper broke.”
“What zipper?”
“The one on my clothes!” You gesture towards the closet. “I just don’t want you to see what I’m wearing.”
Katakuri pauses. “Do you really think it looks that bad?”
Finally giving up, you stand. “I don’t know!”
There’s a moment of silence as you try to not curl into a ball and disappear. How dare he come back and see you like this? It’s mortifying! Even if you’re married, it’s still something new to both of you.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” he chokes out, reaching for the door.
You cover yourself with your arms. “That just makes it weird! What are you going to say when someone asks why you aren’t in here? ‘Oh I saw my wife changing, I can’t see that.’ It’s weird.”
He refuses to look at you as you gesture around in confusion. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. We’re supposed to married, it’d be weird if you haven’t see me naked. Help me with the zipper.”
“What if I can’t get it? Then what?” He looks at you, but doesn’t meet your eyes.
You rub your arm, feeling self conscious. “I guess I can just cut it off. That probably easier than having you rip it.”
The two of you stand there, not meeting each other’s eyes. The tension in the room is thick, and you really wish you could disappear. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, and for once it’s bothering you. You wish he’d say or do something, anything. All you feel is embarrassed and foolish.
You slowly make your way around the bed, hugging yourself like you’re cold. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t thought of him seeing stuff like this, you just hadn’t imagined he’d just stand there like he was startled. Though you aren’t entirely sure what you had imagined happening in a situation similar to this.
Suddenly, you feel your feet leave the floor. Your back hits Katakuri’s chest as he sits you in his lap. The contact of his skin makes you burn up, and each breath you take is shallow. You feel like you might pass out from how nervous you are, and the way he’s holding you doesn’t help.
“So I can rip this off you?” His voice is low. “You won’t mind that?”
“I-I,” you stammer, unable to get any thought to form. “No? I mean, yes. I mean-”
The kisses on your neck are gentle as you string together random thoughts. You’ve lost all ability to think properly, your mind following instinct instead. Covering your mouth, you try not to whine as he touches your bare skin.
“You’re so pretty,” he says through kisses. “My pretty little wife.”
Katakuri’s fingers grip tightly onto your thighs, as he holds himself back. Each kiss brushes your skin softly, barely applying any pressure. Not that he needs to apply any pressure to set your skin on fire.
“P-please,” you whine. “Please help me. I need you, Katakuri.”
His fingers slide up to your cunt and slowly start to rub through your clothes. The thin mesh doesn’t dampen any of the sensation, and you let out a groan at the feeling. It doesn’t take long for you start subconsciously rolling your hips. You never realized just how badly you wanted him, but it shows now.
Despite your muffled please for more, his touch remains slow. It feels like he’s exploring your body, his other hand reaching up and squeezing your breasts. It’s an agonizing pace, slow and steady. If you weren’t so desperate, you wouldn’t mind, but right now you need him.
You gasp as gently nips the pulse point on your neck, his fangs not breaking the skin but leaving goosebumps across it. Refusing to move your hands from your mouth, you let every little sound tumble into your palm and hope he doesn’t hear. This clearly frustrates him, as after a few moments, he pins your wrists behind your back.
“Don’t hide from me,” Katakuri pleads. “I need to hear you.”
You hear the sound of mesh ripping as he pulls it to the side, stroking a finger through your folds. Each time he circles your clit, you let out a whimper. It’s a dizzying combination as he gently fondles your breasts and kisses all over your neck all while playing with your cunt. You know he’s watching you intently, studying every reaction to see what makes you feel best.
Unable to control your breathing, you lean your head back as your chest heaves. You can’t even focus on trying to steady it as he pushes a finger inside. The thought of ruining his gloves makes you feel dirty, but if he knows that he’s ruining them, he doesn’t care. Even the sound of him fingering you is lewd, but you’ve practically lost the ability to feel ashamed
You should’ve realized sooner just how large he actually is. Just the feeling of his finger is more than you’ve ever thought to try, each time he pushes it in, you feel fuller than ever before. Within seconds, you feel the tension in your core grow and threaten to snap.
“So pretty, such a pretty wife,” Katakuri praises. “So perfect.”
At the sound of his praise, you feel yourself come undone. Your body tenses and shakes as you cum, uncontrollably moaning as you do. There’s no stop to his pace as you climax, leading you to squirm and whine.
You watch as he makes another arm to hold your hips in place, continuing to finger you. At some point, you loose track of how long you’re like this, sitting in his lap while he explores every part of you. It’s almost relentless as he touches every single sensitive spot. You can’t even keep track of how many times you reach climax, just knowing that you’re absolutely soaked now.
“Katakuri, please,” you moan. “Too much, just please
”
He kisses you jaw. “Please what? What do you want me to do?”
“Please be gentle. You’re so big.” You look at him through half lidded eyes. “I want you to try.”
Something inside him snaps, and his eyes darken. With one swift motion, your face is buried in the sheets, and you can feel him grind against your ass. You whine as he grips your hair tightly, your body protesting the change in position. It’s only for a split second, before he loosens his grip trying to have some control over himself.
It no longer matters as you feel him line his tip up with your entrance. He pushes in slowly, stopping every time you grip the sheets tightly and whine. You already know it’s not all going to fit, but that’s not stopping him from trying. Grateful for the warm up, you’re surprised that it doesn’t hurt as much as you were worried about.
Once you can’t take anymore, the two of you stay still. You pant for air, desperate to regain some sense of control over your mind. Even though you know it’s futile and as soon as he starts moving your brain will go back to mush. It doesn’t really matter, you feel so good you couldn’t care less how lewd you’re being.
Katakuri waits for some sort of signal that you can keep going, so as soon as you do your best to look back at him with pleading eyes, he starts to move. It’s the same slow pace as before, but this time you don’t mind. Every time he pulls out, you feel so empty before he pushes right back in. You feel warm and tingly, each thrust going deeper than you even realized it could.
You close your eyes and relax, letting him have full control over how you move. It doesn’t take long for him to pick up the pace thrusting into you at a speed you’d never be able to do on your own. Moaning and panting, you grip the sheets tightly as your over sensitivity brings you to an orgasm faster than you expected.
His pace is unrelenting, not giving you a second to recover. By now, you’re drooling into the sheets, unable to close your mouth and stop moaning. There hasn’t been a time that you’ve felt this good, unable to reach or do some of the things he’s been doing.
Your walls ache from the amount of times you’ve cum, and it’s almost getting painful. Despite the amount of fluid dripping from you, you can still feel everything. Each thrust hits your cervix, and causes you to moan louder.
After a few more thrusts, you feel his hand grip your hair tighter. You whine from the sensation, not fully realizing what’s happening or why he’s stopped. It’s not until he lets you go and pulls out that you realize that he finished. You don’t move, too sore to even attempt to. There’s a moment of nothing, before he scoops you up and takes you to the bathroom.
You lean against the cabinet, your eyes constantly falling shut as he draws a bath. Attempting to protest a bath, you mumble something but can’t even catch what you’re saying. That doesn’t faze him as he frowns slightly at you.
“I’ll bathe you, so you don’t have to worry,” Katakuri reassures you. “You’re sticky.”
You give a weak scowl and grumble. He doesn’t budge, but gives you a soft kiss.
“You can sleep after, I’ll even change the sheets if you’d like.”
You pout, but he ignores it. He’s gentle as he tears off the sweat soaked lingerie and pulls you into the tub. Steam billows from the surface and you protest against the heat. It feels like you might be boiling, but no amount of squirming gets you out of his arms.
The soap lathers easily and smells faintly floral, a nice change from all the sweet smelling things. You wince every time you’re moved, but it doesn’t get you out of the bath sooner. You wish it did, all you want is to fall asleep.
“Almost done. It goes faster if you don’t squirm.”
You put your head on his chest. “Tired.”
Katakuri traces your jaw before gently rubbing soap on your face. “Just a few more minutes.”
You stay still as he rises the soap from your body and pulls you out of the tub. The past twenty minutes passed in a haze, so you can’t recall if he even washed up, but you can tell he did since he’s still got soap on him. Every touch is gentle, like he’s worried about you breaking.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you mumble as you try to hold his hand. “I’m fine.”
Katakuri gives up on making sure you’re dry and picks you back up. You don’t even make it to the bed, passing out in his arms. Every part of you is exhausted, and there’s no where you’d rather be.
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the16thtower · 7 months ago
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Wyll Ravengard fucking undoes me because while a lot of fans and the BG3 writers do him dirty, there's so much going on with his character that just isn't explored or elaborated on that is so fascinating.
I have a parent who functions as a pillar of the community in my hometown, who is incredibly competent and admirable, and who judges me harshly for supposedly making choices that ruined my life. It's really difficult trying to wrap your head around all the different layers of that kind of relationship and Wyll never gets to really address it properly.
If we think about what happens after he gets kicked out of home:
What does he get to take with him? Does he even get a chance to pack any belongings? He looks like a normal human for the most part when we first met him, so what did Ulder tell people? We don't know about his mother's side but is there any family or family friends he could stay with? Did Ulder poison the well with everyone Wyll knew by being upfront about the pact or did he lie and make up another equally damning excuse for exile? God, just the idea that Ulder looked his son in the face (freshly injured) and immediately threw him out is devastating. Wyll is so certain about the prudence of his father's decision when we met him but either:
This is a perspective he's eventually made peace with
His conviction in his father never waned
which both suck! Either his idol, his father, screwed up massively or he has so little concern for himself that it never occurred to him that Ulder's justification was shit. Ulder is the Duke of Baldur's Gate, with all the resources that grants him, and he didn't even try to contact an expert on demons to try and get more info on his son's situation? What the fuck! There's the whole bit with the Trials of Balduran about appropriate punishment that Wyll agrees with that he doesn't even think to apply to his own situation. It can really fuck you up having your hero, who you admire for the good they do for others, decide you're not worthy of that same good.
Wyll tries so hard to be a good person and to lead by example but never seems to see himself as an acceptable recipient of the grace and kindness he shows others.
Does Mizora just immediately whisk him off to different parts of the Sword Coast to start acting the part of the Blade of Frontiers? He's seventeen, homeless, no support network, and fighting monsters - I'm going to lose my fucking mind. That's ridiculous. That kid was already dealing with his father's intense expectations (from what Wyll describes, Ulder was raising Wyll to follow in his footsteps, which is a steep ask). He then suddenly loses everything, on top of the stigma of demon association - Wyll's mental health must have tanked at some point. Depression, anxiety, and PTSD are definitely on the table (plus phantom pains from the prosthetic eye).
Just thinking of this teenager learning how to drink properly with no one looking out for him, trying to numb things a bit, and just becoming a sad wreck every time. Just... there's so much there with Wyll having to grow up very quickly in very lonely circumstances. We know he has some acquaintances, like the tieflings, but who actually knows what's going on with him? Is he still shouldering his burdens alone? Is MIzora around bothering him or does she flit in and out of his life? He's in exile for seven years.
And he's still a romantic and an idealist! Unflinchingly, genuinely, with his chest! He endures! He becomes a hero. It's beautiful. He survives and cultivates his best qualities in the face of awful circumstances. Wyll has this intense sense of morality and will (pardon the joke) that never permits him to sway from the right thing, even with everything stacked against him. And it routinely costs him! It's so, so hard to do the right thing and he still does it because he simply can't see another outcome worth living through.
It upsets me a little that Wyll ends up doubling down on what a good person his dad is when they reunite - as if Wyll hasn't demonstrated infinitely more empathy and compassion for other people, even when it actively impedes him. He's good because he chooses to be good and seeks to understand, not because he's able to follow the standards set by other men.
This is not a particularly organised discussion but fuck, I love Wyll Ravengard.
(UPDATE: I've just made some edits for clarification since I didn't express myself well. Also, this is a game that requires hundreds of hours of gameplay so be kind if I don't know everything.)
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fairyhaos · 5 months ago
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seventeen as teachers
requested by @weird-bookworm ! it's a little to the left of what you asked but i hope it's alright anyway ><
masterlist
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seungcheol
architecture professor. kind of thanks to physics!cheol anon for this idea but he really encourages hands-on learning especially for his subject, and he draws big diagrams on the board and gestures wildly with his hands as he's explaining why the models work and what do the students think of it? also he definitely gives vibes of someone who high fives the students when their models withstand his shaking tests, but also laughs and claps when they fall apart. because it's all about learning, isn't it? and he's with you to help you learn every step of the way. 
jeonghan
kindergarten teacher. cannot for the life of him handle kids older than that because then they get too tricksy and talkative for him and he gets tired too easily to deal with that. actually really good at handling the toddlers. he's also very pretty so all the kids unironically hang onto his every word, basically making him the god at keeping children in line. when he gets too tired of running around after them he just goes “kids :((( jeonghan is tired :(((“ and they immediately settle down to do something else
joshua
music teacher (1). he's a total department crush (and even school-wide crush) amongst the other teachers because he's so pretty and so kind, always and accidentally keeps making teachers fall for him bc he talks to them so nicely w that pretty smile of his. renowned for his ability to compose melodies on the piano on the spot, and always has students wanting him to help (cough compose for them) parts of their composition work. no one knows what he does outside of work, though. it's like he disappears into thin air after school finishes. 
junhui
gives me eccentric uni professor vibes. sits on his desk with his feet dangling and asks all sorts of strange and irrelevant questions to the students that are, actually, not strange and entirely relevant. has everyone walking out of his lectures feeling like a changed person because he either a) managed to get horribly off track or b) made them rethink their entire life choices. loved by all, and maybe a bit too much. poor guy definitely had an obsessed student try to follow him home before he got lost himself and so they both ended up in the middle of nowhere
hoshi
chemistry teacher. no other reason other than i think he'd look great with a pair of goggles on his forehead pushing his fringe back at funny angles whilst he grins maniacally and goes, “hey, kids, today we're gonna set things on fire!!!!”. so passionate about teaching these things to the students, and rambles on like he only has 5 minutes left on earth and he's gonna use every second to cram in as much chemistry knowledge into the students’ brains as he can in that time. it works, too. his passion inspires so many of them to take chemistry further up in the school. 
wonwoo
history teacher. all the students want him for their teacher when they take history because he's actually, like, competent and knows stuff. known for taking no shit when it comes to doing assignments on time because he sets reasonable deadlines and if you can't make them, then that's on you, not him. students love him. also super duper helpful if you have any questions and is always free at lunch to help bc he'll do anything to escape the hyperactive claws of mr. kwon and mr. wen who are always up to shenanigans
woozi
music teacher (2). mans life literally revolves around music and i can't imagine him doing anything else. department ace. conductor of both the symphony and concert orchestra, and rearranges all of the parts himself when the students find it a little too difficult. also do Not engage this man in a conversation about anything to do with music theory because he will rant for ages and any quick question turns into half of your lunch break being missed. he means well, though, and always gets ridiculous amount of thank-you presents at the end of the year. 
minghao
art teacher (1). dresses like one, too, and has been voted as ‘best dressed teacher’ for the past 3 years in a row. all the art students are kind of afraid of him because if you ask for feedback, there is a 50/50 chance that he'll rip you a new one whilst explaining what you did wrong. there's never any true cruelty to his words, though, cuz hes always actually giving genuine advice and he's always right in what he advises, so students either love him or hate him for his criticisms, though mostly it's the former. he's pretty, too, and his works are pretty, so that's a plus
mingyu
teaches business studies to the older students, purely cz i think he gives maths-adjacent vibes. he teaches a “special” subject that's not available to the younger kids and he's ridiculously handsome so he's kind of like a legendary figure in the school. even if he's a bit silly and adorable at times, he's also super good at holding intellectual debates with his students about current economic and political affairs. can be found bickering with mr. yoon bc the kindergarten teacher wants him to help with his taxes.
dokyeom
art teacher (2). smiles brighter than the sun at all hours of the day, and when the senior students are drowning in coursework and artist research deadlines, he's like the one and only guiding light that helps them get through it because of how endlessly optimistic he is. half the seniors take art solely because of him, actually. also a firm believer that all art is good art and there's no such thing as a “non-artist”. scolds minghao after work when he feels like the other teacher was being too harsh to the students
seungkwan
part of the senior leadership team. takes his position veryyy seriously, strides briskly around the school with a jingle of w set of keys he managed to procure from
somewhere. is always on top of uniform inspections which is always annoying for the kids, but he's also melodramatic and smiley so they love him anyway. the students are always try to recruit him for teacher quizzes and events bc he makes everything way more fun. 
vernon
classics teacher. this might seem odd but hear me out!!! dude loves ancient history and Will do deep dives on old artefacts and cultures that interest him, and i think that passion can definitely be transferred to him teaching kids about latin, ancient greek, old civilizations. known for sharing nothing about his personal life but also being able to talk for ages about something that happened over 1000 years ago. the students all find him super cool and also super endearing. 
chan
the guy who's hired externally from some sports club to act as the teacher to students during after school clubs. teaches martial arts, mainly, but he supervised an impromptu dance club one semester and the students loved it so much that they managed to bring the dance club onto the permanent schedule. everyone loves him. his sports club is 10000% sure that half the children who come to them were recruited through chan's lovely personality alone. 
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enviedear · 1 year ago
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i've been going solo now ⟶ ben solo
description ⌙ when you get a distress signal from your dad and his life-long goon you're quick to try and come to their rescue. only problem? so is ben solo.
pairing ⌙ smuggler!ben solo x f!reader
warnings ⌙ childhood crush/frenemies turned adults with horrible communication skills, reader is the daughter of lando (biologically or not you decide), ben is a jerk, reader is a brat, petty arguments, forced proximity trope, inner conflict all the time, han and lando are just two pals getting into serious issues that their kids have to fix don't mind them (they're just mentioned), most likely incorrect knowledge of the falcon & starship parts, smuggler!ben solo au because that's canon to me, ben calls reader kid (affectionate, kinda), typos probabaly
word count ⌙ 4.1k
— request | masterlist
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i just think ben solo is very much solo by future coded and i wanted to write about smuggler!ben and his smug attitude. special thanks to @crucifiedfaerie for letting me gush over this idea constantly in our dms <3
you never had the stomach for killing— the thought of it or the act itself. the notion of ending someone's life has always been abhorrent to you, leaving a sour sensation in your mouth that lingers long after the deed is done. but right now, you sit, filled with a growing and seemingly unstoppable rage that practically demands blood.
"don't even think about jumping into hyperspace, solo!" your voice is loud but erratic.
the black-haired man piloting the ship gives you a side eye, "and waste hours getting there? sure thing, kid."
you grip the co-pilot seat as hard as possible as he sends the absolutely geriatric ship into lightspeed. the force of it sends your head back onto the headrest, and you screw your eyes shut until the motion of the ship stills.
you've been flying with ben solo on the millennium falcon for a day and a half now, and this isn't even the first time you've wanted to kill him.
no, you'd harbored a hatred for ben solo for as long as you could remember. when you were little your father frequently left you in the care of the organa-solo's. any trip too risky for you to follow him on had you spending time on chandrila han and leia— and ben.
he was a few years older than you and so insufferable - spoiled rotten and full of mischief. the two of you would inevitably end up in scuffles over something, whether it be who got to shower first or which holovid show to watch. you often wondered how your father, han, or leia had managed to handle both of you. a hardheaded pair of troublemakers that needed little excuse to start bickering with one another.
but beneath it all, there had been another layer to your complex relationship with ben solo. even though you feigned anger whenever near him, deep down there had been an admiration growing since those early days spent together. your naive heart fluttered when he would absentmindedly flash his ever-present smirk in your direction. but you'd never admit or act upon any such feelings.
naviagting your crush had been difficult at first. especially having lando calrissian as a parent. you were forced to spend weeks around the source of your teen angst because of your father.
what use is a dad that can sweet-talk a jablogian if he can't fix your unwanted crush on his best friend's son.
you've cursed at his image in your mind every time you look at your ridiculous companion. if not for him, you wouldn't be with ben right now— you'd have never had the displeasure of his company.
you got away from the young solo, and most everyone else, for a good five years, hopping from planet to planet, picking up any honest work. which usually meant boring work— factory jobs, service stuff, a few instances of babysitting.
your life without ben solo is predictable and a little boring.
but you'd rather be bored than deal with the recklessness that becomes your life every time you see the smuggler.
but here you sit beside him, forced to spend an unknown amount of days with him until the both of you find your idiotic fathers.
you had gotten a rouge comm-link message from your dad just days ago. he sounded fine, voice still leisurely and warm, but it was his words that were worrisome, "han's got us in a bit of trouble, little star. would you mind coming to help your old man out? we're somewhere in the trilon sector— i'd try batuu first!"
when you got the message, your mind had gone into autopilot. you had rushed to comm leia, which had been a fatal mistake, as she had ordered her son to pick you up and accompany you. so now you're here, stuck with ben solo and his frightening flying.
"you know, dad should have warned me i'd be flying with a coward." ben's lips are curved into a grin, as usual with his teasing.
you whip your head in his direction, eyes ablaze, "well my father should have warned me that you've gotten even more annoying, somehow."
ben narrows his eyes, a stupid smirk still plastered to his face, "whatever you say, kid."
you feel your blood go hot, why he decided to start calling you kid, you didn't know, but you do know you hate it.
ben's barely your senior, only twenty-three years of age in comparison to your twenty. besides he behaves like an out-of-hand teen away.
"stop calling me that." you groan.
ben chuckles, "aw, what's the matter, kid? tired of following orders already?"
you grit your teeth, the way he talks down to you will forever get under your skin, "i don't take orders from you, solo."
"sure you do. you're on my ship, remember?" ben retorts, his eyes focused on the coordinates displayed to his left.
you cross your arms over your chest, "we're supposed to be working together to find han and my father and get them out of trouble, not bickering like children."
ben rolls his eyes, "it's not my fault you're so uptight."
you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you can't afford to lose your temper and start a fight, not when you're relying on him to get you to your destination safely. so, you force a smile, "look, can we just be civil? we're both here because we care about our dads and want to help them."
ben's expression softens a little, "fine. but if you start nagging at me again, i can't promise i won't call you kid."
you roll your eyes, "deal. now, can you tell me more about what's going on? my dad was pretty vague in his message."
ben hums, "same with mine. all i know is that lando got mixed up in some kind of shady deal, and now he's in trouble with a gang of criminals called the ninth sun. my mom's been trying to negotiate with them, but they're not ones to bend the knee."
you groan, "of course not. what's the plan?"
he shakes a stray black strand of hair from his eye, "no plan, just find them and go from there."
"lovely, that's totally going to work," you bite your lip, "oh and, it was han who made the sketch deal, not my dad."
ben shrugs, "and who told you that?" he rests his elbow on the armrest and brings his hand to his chin, "lando?"
you clench your fists, "let's just focus on finding them. no need to dwell on the semantics."
ben glances at you and for a moment, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes. something other than his usual teasing, mischievous demeanor, but it's gone as quickly as it came and he turns back to the console.
the ship hums steadily beneath you, and the silence between you two stretches on, broken only by the occasional beep from the controls. you fidget in your seat, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar hush. you've never been around ben so long without saying anything, and you're about to speak up before he interrupts you.
"we'll have to make a pit stop, i need to refuel." his voice sounds tired.
you nod, "alright. any nearby planets we can stop at?"
ben checks the navicomputer, "yeah, there's one a couple of light years away. i've been there before, it's not too bad."
"okay solo, lead the way." you say, leaning back in your seat.
as he pilots the ship toward the destination, you can't help but study him from the corner of your eye. he's changed since the last time you saw him. the boy who used to pull your hair and steal your toys has grown into a man. he's lean and toned with longer hair, still as sable black as ever. it falls into his eyes, despite how much he wills it not to, giving him a slightly disheveled look that you can't help but find attractive.
you rue the thoughts plaguing your own mind.
the embarrassment you used to feel over your crush has come back ten-fold. the feeling shocks you. he's trying to act all suave and mature, but you know deep down that he's still the same old ben who annoyed the life out of you. you can feel the familiar tug in your heart every time he speaks, and you know he can't have changed much over the years. not when he's making you feel just like you're fourteen again.
but there is something different about him now. maybe it's the way he pilots the ship with ease– no longer the boy who'd cover his ears ar take off, or maybe it's just the way his muscles flex under his tight-fitting shirt. he's almost mesmerizing.
it's clear that he's been doing this for a long time, navigating the stars all alone with nothing but his shitty attitude and perfect hair. you find yourself marveling over him, sure and smooth, his hands deftly moving over the controls.
ever the realist, you try to shake off the feeling, but it's proving difficult. you feel a strange urge to preserve your current addiction.
as you watch him fly, you feel a fixation building within you. it's a sentiment you haven't felt in years, not felt since the last time you saw him.
you try to push the feeling down, knowing that it's not the time to have those kinds of thoughts. you're supposed to be focused on finding your fathers and not getting killed by some lethal syndicate, not lusting after your childhood nemesis.
you feel wrong stealing glances at him, trying to understand what's changed and why you're feeling this way. you're towing a dangerous, line. especially if those feelings are inspired by ben organa-solo.
finally, after what feels like hours, you arrive at the refueling station. as soon as ben lands the ship, you stretch your legs inside the falcon, looking out at the new scenery. the planet is bathed in the evening light, and the scene around you is wide awake. the station itself is a bustling hub of activity, with all kinds of alien species milling about.
ben leads the way to the fueling station, where he begins filling up the ship's tanks. you stand by the ship's entrance, people-watching. your eyes find ben's figure again, and you let them stall. when he looks your way, you advert your gaze and step out of the falcon, swiftly approaching him.
the evening air is cool as it hits your skin. this planet is a strange one, with vibrant purple plants and thick, white fog swirling around. but you don't pay too much attention to it, your eyes are locked on ben.
he's leaning against the ship, checking over the fuel meter with a frown on his face. you walk over to him and clear your throat, expecting to get his attention.
he looks up at you, eyes meeting your own. you feel your heart skip a beat, and you curse yourself for being soft for him.
"you know, you didn't have to follow me out here." he mumbles, hand coming to brush the hair from his eyes.
you hum, "i didn't have anything better to do."
he ignores you and looks back at the fuel gauge, his eyebrows furrow, "i found something for you to do." his voice is monotone, but you're all too familiar with the subtle cut of annoyance within.
"what does that mean?" you own voice comes out a bit too anxious.
ben groans before looking at you, "one of the damn tanks has a leak— i told chewie to fix that weeks ago." he follows up his words with a few curses before kicking the faulty gas tank.
you roll your eyes, "can't we just get another one? i'm sure if we go inside someone would know where we could get another one."
"the problem isn't finding one," he tsks at you, "the problem is that this tank has been leaking fuel into the beacon finder. without that, we're never finding our dear old dads."
your heart sinks. you had been so sure that you would find your dad quickly, but now it looks like that might not be the case. "so, what do you suggest we do?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
"i'll have to fix the beacon," he sighs, "luckily i have the tools for it, but i need to find one more part, and with the sun setting soon
" he trails off, letting his silence complete the sentence for him.
you take in a deep breath at his implication. you can tell what he is suggesting without explicitly stating it.
you will be stuck on this planet with him tonight and forced to share the same cramped room. you thank god for separate cots, at least.
you try to ignore the warmth creeping up your ears, but you know that it's a losing battle. you haven't shared a room with ben solo since you were kids, endless unwilling sleepovers at each other's houses. but those instances were filled with innocent pranks and arguments, not the tension and longing glances you've found yourself giving him.
"alright," you say, trying to keep your voice even, "we'll just get the part and fix the beacon. the faster we fix this, the faster we can find our fathers and get back to our lives." you move towards the entrance of the fueling station, wanting to put space between you and ben.
"you mean so you can get back to your life." he calls out to you, and you look back at him only to be met with contempt in his brown eyes, "the one where you avoid me."
you give him a sharp eye roll before making your way toward a small gaggle of vendors, much more interested in finding this part. ben follows closely behind you, and you can feel the weight of his stare on the back of your head.
you're at a loss as to why ben solo would ever care that you've been avoiding him for the last five years. the ben you remember would've never batted an eye. when did that change?
you find a vendor selling the part that ben needs, and you both split the payment before heading back to the falcon. ben sets to work on the beacon, and you sit nearby, supposedly looking over the coordinates but mostly watching him work.
there's an abnormal sense of calm that fills you as you watch him. concentration is etched on his face, lips bitten bright red. you can't help but admire him, not for the sake of not trying.
you're brought back to reality when he starts cursing under his breath, "what's wrong?" you ask, moving closer to him.
"this damn thing won't budge," he grunts, trying to pry apart two pieces of the beacon.
you move to his side, peering down at the device. his breath is hot on your cheek, and you feel an urge to shiver. trying to focus on the task at hand you take a few breaths.
your eyes keep drifting to his lips, the way they move when he curses. you shake your head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. "let me help," you offer, reaching for one of the tools he's using.
he hands it to you, and you lean in closer, your sides pressed together as you work the tool. you can feel his heat exuding into you, a warmth that isn't just from the planet's humid air. you try to focus, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. every time he moves, you catch a whiff of his scent, musky and rich, and your mind starts to wander to places it shouldn't.
finally, after what feels like an eternity, the piece pops free, and ben lets out a sigh of relief. he turns to you, a small smile on his face, and you can't help but smile back. his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the air between you is charged with something foreign.
you let your tone come out sardonic, "looks like i saved the day. you're welcome, solo."
ben tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "you're a brat, kid."
"i thought i told you to stop calling me that." you want to hit him.
"i said i had a condition," he pauses, arms coming to either side of you, palms pressing into the falcon's floor, effectively trapping you against him, "a condition you just broke. so you're back to kid, kid."
you feel your resolve slipping, "you're the worst. you always have been, and i can see now that will never change."
he has the audacity to let out an amused breath, "if you're going to say shit like that, at least mean it."
your brows furrow, "pardon me? as if i don't mean that."
his hands creep from the ground and to your hips, you gasp as he pulls you in closer. if he were anyone else, you'd expect him to kiss you next, but he's not anyone else. so instead, he cranes down and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "i know you want me," he growls, his fingers digging into your clothed flesh. "don't act like you don't,"
you're completely caught off guard, and before you can respond, he's pulling away from you and grabbing the beacon. you watch in silent horror as he makes for the falcon's exit, leaving you confused on the floor.
you sit there, rooted to the spot, your mind and body in turmoil. you know if you follow him you'd just be throwing yourself into a petty or embarrassing altercation.
what did he mean by that anyway? how could he possibly know?
taking a steadying breath, you turn away from your seat and make for the other side of the ship. you need to keep yourself busy until nighttime, and you know that there's some maintenance to do on one of the storage bays. when you get there, however, it's already been taken care of. your fists clench in frustration as you realize ben must have done it earlier.
you start searching around the ship for any other tasks that might help keep your mind off things and pass the time more quickly- checking cords, tidying up shelves or going through supplies lists so nothing gets low.
the hours seem to stretch on endlessly despite how much work you manage to do, and all too soon darkness begins to fill the sky outside of the cockpit windows. with a heavy sigh, you head back towards where you and ben had been working earlier. he's back now, tinkering away with the beacon as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you earlier— as if his words hadn't sent a tremble down your spine and confused the emotions tumbling through your mind.
you catch an expectant glance from him when he finally notices your presence. you're sure he's expecting you to say something to him. maybe he wants you to yell.
you don't say anything though, instead offering only a terse nod before checking the endless cords around you.
your fingers move quickly and expertly over the tangled cords, your mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. but you can feel his gaze on you, burning through the back of your skull like a branding iron. his presence is suffocating and you know that if you don't get a handle on your emotions soon, you'll combust.
eventually, you're so lost in thought that you almost miss the soft footfalls approaching you. you turn to see ben standing beside you, his eyes locked onto yours. the air between you is thick with strain, unspoken words, and feelings. there are so many things you want to say to him, but you don't know where to begin.
"so," his voice breaks through the silence like a blaster shot. "when are we going to talk about it?"
you hear the depth in his baritone voice and it's all you can do to keep your face neutral, your thoughts collected, "talk about what?" you ask, even though you know perfectly well what he's referring to.
"about me and you," he says, voice low but insistent, "or we can just keep ignoring it. the tension seems to be getting us pretty far."
your expression shifts as you take in his words, the longing that had been coiled in so tightly before now coming to the surface. you can feel yourself flustering under the intensity of his watch but you refuse to look away, instead lifting your chin higher and narrowing your eyes.
"there is no us, solo," you say firmly, though your voice is riddled with a hint of something else entirely, "there never has been, and never will be."
ben seems unfazed by your words, his eyes steady and intense. "you say that," he says, his voice softening. "but i know you better than anyone else. and i know there's some part of you that actually likes me. i bet it pisses you off, doesn't it?"
he's right— it does piss you off that your heart can't seem to let him go. no matter how annoying you find him, he's beautiful and confident. and he does know you better than anyone. he knows what buttons to press and how hard. with ben, there's always the thrill of how perceptive he is— that he can see through the walls of anger and indifference you try so hard to build up around yourself.
you can feel your will crumbling under his words, your heart throbbing in your chest, but still, you push back, "even if there is something there, solo," you say, your voice shaking slightly, "it doesn't change anything. we're two different people living two very different lives."
ben smirks, "you don't know anything about my life."
you let your eyes roll, "as if the life you lead is some kind of mystery," you take a deep breath, "i mean, what's to know? you fly alone, smuggle, and rack up credits. that's your life, solo."
he hums, right hand finding a home beside your head on the wall, "you know me so well, kid. you should write a book."
you feel inexplicably hot, "maybe i will. a long book of all the reasons you piss me off."
he doesn't respond, just looks down at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. he pushes himself from the wall and you, twisting and letting his back hit the durasteel wall. his face is turned to you, eyes downcast.
"you know," he says finally, breaking the silence, "i remember when we were kids, it was always you who used to be the one to instigate. you probably don't remember it that way, but i do, and i loved it. you never hesitated. you were fearless."
you look at him incredulously, wondering what this has to do with anything. but he continues, "you were the only girl that would play with me, and not just that, the only one that could beat me. but then one day you just stopped. you ignored me completely."
you stiffen, unwilling to admit even through body language that he might be right. a pre-teen you found avoiding your ben sized crush the most viable option. you just never thought he'd care.
he continues, eyes unwavering from yours, "you used to look at me like i was the only person that mattered. and then, you just stopped. it's was like
 like you had something to hide."
it's like he can read your mind because he reaches out and grasps your wrist in his hand. his touch is nice against your skin, sending a comfortable feel through your veins.
"i miss you, the girl who wasn't afraid of liking me," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "and i want you to admit that you miss me too."
you struggle to find words, to make sense of everything inside of you, but before you can speak, his lips are on yours. his kiss is hot and demanding, and instinctively lean into him, body melting against his in perfect harmony. his hands slide around your waist and hold you close as the kiss deepens, and you can feel all of the frustrations of the past slipping away. when he finally pulls back, his eyes are bright with emotion and a hint of a smile graces his lips.
he looks down at you for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "you want me to do that again?" he steps closer to you and cups your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with amusement. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body and if it weren't for his strong arms around you, you would have melted into a puddle.
you nod slowly in agreement, too lost in the moment to say anything else. he leans down and brushes his lips against your cheek before pulling away completely, "then be honest. right here, right now. you like me."
you screw your eyes shut, basking in the shame of being found out, "i like you, solo. i like you a lot, but if you don't get off your pedestal and kiss me again i'll withdraw the opportunity."
he gazes down at you with an expression that's tender yet mischievous all at once. "i like you too," he whispers before chuckling lightly, you open your eyes to see.
his dimples are on full display, and for a second, he's the spirit of the little brat you fell in love with all those years ago. "c'mere, kid." his voice is soft as he pulls you back into him, lips meeting yours.
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bratdotcom · 2 months ago
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SMALL THINGS I THINK THE BOYS WOULD FALL FOR + CHARLES !!!
( dethklok + charles x reader hcs !! this is my first time writing for them so if its ooc i apologize in advance 😭 )
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NATHAN
- Being able to rest with you. He's an overthinker, even when it comes to resting
- He constantly wonders to himself if he's doing things right. Having you there to reassure him and bounce ideas with him makes Nathan feel much more confident about making big decisions for the band when Pickles is busy
- Reminding him to wear his glasses. Most of the time, he doesn't bother to unless the situation really calls for it
- Speaking of glasses, when he's in public with you and he can't see something , you become his glasses. ( When in private, he'll awkwardly tell you that you did a good job and that he loves you )
SKWISGAAR
- sharing
- straight up, just sharing anything
- Skwisgaar doesn't like sharing much of anything at all- you're the exception
- He secretly loves handing you sweets from his plate and watching your face light up when your eyes land on his fork (he pretends like it isn't a big deal, but it definitely is)
- He loves breaking pastries in half just to give the other piece to you
- Skwisgaar has a sense of pride whenever you thank him. He pretends like it's nothing (it's going to be on his mind for weeks)
PICKLES
- lazing around with you
- Pickles loves preparing the living room just for the two of you to watch on the various screens hooked up on the ceiling, snacks, blankets, and all
- if you're up for it, he'll gladly rewatch movies you've both seen a dozen times before
- does the trick where he pretends to yawn so he can wrap his arm around you ( does it because it makes you laugh every single time )
TOKI
- kisses!!
- pecks on the cheek, forehead kisses, butterfly kisses, Toki loves them all!!
- Especially quick pecks on the cheek when you need leave the room
- More than once, Skwisgaar has to tell him to pay attention during practice all because you kissed him
- Toki thinks kisses on the lips are the specialist of them all. He'd rather kiss you on the lips in private rather than in public
MURDERFACE
- listening to him
- due to how often he's overlooked in the band, he doesn't have anyone to share his thoughts with
- that was until you came into the picture
- William absolutely adores you. He knows that you won't ridicule him or cut him off when he's explaining battle facts or ideas he has for his own independent projects
- He also likes laying his head on your shoulder, but he tries playing it off as him being 'tired' from touring
- He tries to act tough but if you kiss him on the bridge of his nose his face will go entirely red (I'm talking about looking away and murmuring to himself type shit)
CHARLES
- calling each other
- even with how chaotic the boys are, Charles still tries to keep a consistent schedule so he can call you at the same times everyday
- Unsurprisingly, being Dethklok's manager is a time-consuming job
- Knowing that you're at home waiting for him with open arms makes him feel better
- He likes hearing you ramble about whatever over the phone whenever he has the time to call you
- On the rare occasion where he has nothing else to do, he often replays the voice messages you leave in his inbox, listening intently as if you were right in front of him. He misses you. A lot
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thattimdrakeguy · 7 months ago
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I HAVE BEEN READING ZDARSKY BATMAN, AND I HAVE DECLARED: I FREAKING LOVE IT!!
I'm reading the Batman Zdarsky run in reverse. That way if I see any bull I can back out at anytime: and to be honest--besides a few things. I really enjoy it
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LIKE YO, THAT IS JUST STRAIGHT UP TIM DRAKE RIGHT THERE. It knows who he is as a character. his motives, it's great.
Screw the people complaining "oh why is tim still robin :((", THIS IS WHY HE IS STILL ROBIN. Because this is when he's at his BEST. When he gets to hit his character purpose, WHEN HE GETS TO BE HIM AT HIS MOST HIM. It's FANTASTIC.
Reading in reverse because I know I hated the first story, it was so contrived and ridiculous.
But this--this is some good shit.
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Tim being an underdog fighter, having to use his wits to win the fight? MY DAWG, MY DUDE, MY GUYS, MY GALS, MY THEMS, MY THEYS, THIS IS SO TIMMY DRAKE. This is so damn Tim Drake, guys. Oh, my gosh, I am loving this so far.
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Dick has his temper back? And trust me, he isn't normally like this. But he's hitting a limit AND IT'S SOMETHING NEW, NOT JUST A REFERENCE. HE'S ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING HE'D DO, 'CAUSE HE'S AT HIS LIMIT. That's wonderful, man. That is so wonderful.
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Plus Tim is the heart of the Bat-Family again? This feels like someone actually went back to read these characters before writing it. I'm not saying everything is perfect of course, but these high marks are exceeding all my expectations. And I STOPPED reading comics because of how the beginning of this run destroyed any hope I had.
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You guys have no idea how much I'm enjoying the few issues I've read. Besides the cussing (I remember after a bit they decided Tim was someone who used funny words instead of proper cusses), this feels like the Tim I know and love during the era I especially loved him.
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Tim comparing himself to his predecessors? Tim not being a natural? A WRITER REMEMBERING THAT?? It's been so long since I've seen that! Most writers treat him like he was another prodigy when he wasn't. AND THIS GUY REMEMBERED THAT!
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I shouldn't be so happy at just seeing Tim do Tim things, and serving his character purpose. BUT YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE A WRITER KNEW WHAT TIM WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE.
Only complaints I have is that Jason feels like a typical Bat-Family member, and not the sketchy outsider that he is. Making him so close makes his character more bland in my opinion. And Steph is--also generic af unless she's wacky quirky...which is a characterization I hate for her, because she started off so damn interesting, but they made her a freaking trope instead, which is such a disservice to her, but she barely does anything so far, so whatever I guess. Doesn't mean much.
--
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This is the first honest thing I've seen that I hated.
No
Not this
This isn't the Bat-Family
This is a sitcom world the fandom wants to be the Bat-Family and some comply with
They're not a sitcom. The conflicts, and uniqueness of the characters is what makes things feel alive and well.
This stuff is cheap fanservice for the fanon demographic that doesn't buy comics to begin with.
Fanon doesn't belong in canon.
--
I mean sure Tim could be drawn smaller, the gag of him looking 12 when he's nearly 18 doesn't work when he's bigger than Damian who is 15 (and contrary to some bullshit comics isn't meant to be small. that was a random thing added for writers who aren't clever to write better humor. it actually contradicts things that were already established).
Don't see the big deal though for most of this.
Can't wait to find it, though. Oh boy.
This whole obsession with Zur Batman, is way over done though. So--I wouldn't be shocked if that was the problem, because my golly does that plot point not seem to be stopping--and it was there from the start and part of the reason why I didn't read it 'til now.
Good Tim tho, at least. So heehee, yey for that--I think--I guess.
Oh, well.
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It let me peak at a pseudo-version of an AU I made up years ago. So that's pretty freaking cool.
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Always a plus.
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And redoing Red Robin story beats but better? Normally I'd hate references to Red Robin, 'cause that changed the perception of so many characters for the worst, but ayy, a bit of redemption isn't bad.
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Man, just seeing simple stuff like Tim and Bruce being good ol' classic Batman and Robin warms my heart. It's been so long since Batman and Robin has acted like a proper classic Batman and Robin. It's dynamic that's been sorely missed by many.
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OH, MY GOSH, WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO STINK SO BAD. THIS STUFF IS GREAT.
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Like, DUDE, this is such a Tim thing for him to do!!
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And he's showing emotion?? He's crying like how he does?? Because he's not a typical Bat-Family member who just angsts his way through?? THEY'RE MAKING HIM STAND-OUT AGAIN BY MAKING HIM, HIM??
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WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO SUCK SO BAD?? THIS IS GOOD SHIT.
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Like this part is why I originally stopped reading, not because Bruce should think Tim is his soldier, and not his son, THE FREAKING OPPOSITE.
But because the original story has Bruce acting weird when unneeded, just to say this was so unneeded, and adding in all these stupid corny Bat-Family moments was so groan worthy.
This run started off with a story that was a total turn off for me.
To end up being a run that could've kept me enjoying DC, rather than running away from it from as far as I have.
Chip Zdarsky started off awful, but really, he ended up great.
And I've seen people complain about his run, and TRUST ME, there's stuff to complain about. But I have only ever seen the stuff worth complaining about, or stuff I WOULD complain about.
WHEN MOST OF THE RUN IS GOOD
At least when Tim is around.
Go figure.
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Maybe I should've paid sole attention to how he wrote Tim and nothing else at the very least for that first story.
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'Cause even in the first story, Tim was well-written--it's how cheap the rest of the story telling was in that first story that turned me off--and the weird knew about the movie plans that I am still fully judging harshly. (Love the new Superman film suit, though)
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onlymingyus · 2 years ago
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things Seventeen do between someone's thighs
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this is just for fun -- some of the ideas will be a bit silly and poking fun at the members but all of them will be smutty. thank you to @onlyseokmins for dealing with my nonsense.
cw; oral (mostly f receiving), fingering, sulking, bad jokes, and fuck boy attitudes.
also, no tag list because I am just not in the best headspace and don't feel like going through the effort, I apologize.
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Seungcheol
This man isn't there to play...most of the time, but he can get a bit cocky. He'd be three fingers deep, his tongue working hard when he'd get a cramp in his hand. You wouldn't know what was happening when your orgasm was pulled away from you only to find a sulky Cheol between your thighs pouting at his hand.
"I went too hard..."
"My poor baby...want me to kiss it better?"
He'd just nod and hold up his wet fingers, his pout covering a smile as he got you to kiss his fingers dripping with your own arousal.
Jeonghan
Jeonghan would love being between your thighs but he's going to be the absolute worst when it comes to giving you what you want when you want it. All the baby talk against your thighs, his mouth running over your legs, stomach, even right over your folds but never giving in until you are almost crying. Then when you beg him for it he'd be faux exasperated that you were, sighing at you, running his tongue between your soaked folds between speaking.
"You could have just told me what you wanted."
You'd spend most of your time wanting to strangle the man with your thighs.
Joshua
Good luck getting him between your thighs in the first place. Slow and steady wins the race.
"There's no rush, love. We have all the time in the world."
It's not that he doesn't want to pleasure you. It's not that he doesn't want you. This man is just into delayed gratification. He wants to be a son-in-law one day and in your bed at the same time.
He'll make you scream his name on your wedding night and then good luck getting him from between your thighs.
Jun
So good at oral and such a freak in a good way. Loves to try new things but is also such a dork. Would be in the middle of making you orgasm and would stop only to look up at you with a goofy smile on his face only to say;
"Mmm, cum here often?"
Hoshi
There isn't much to say about what this man would do. You probably already know.
He is going to growl into your pussy.
I am so sorry.
Wonwoo
There are some nights you are shaking with pleasure from how good Wonwoo is making you feel with his tongue and fingers. Other nights you are wanting to smack the shit out of him with the book he laid on your stomach while his fingers scissor into you.
"Well, I really wanted to do both. You can't be mad at me for wanting both things, can you?"
Jihoon
The biggest issue with Jihoon is finding him and getting him to take a break. So you are having to come to terms with the fact that you aren't getting his tongue between your thighs in a bed anytime soon. You are either on his couch in his studio, laid over his desk, or on a piece of gym equipment.
At the end of the day he's so fucking good at it, can you really complain that much?
Dokyeom
Loves to talk and is so loud even while eating you out. Your fingers run through his hair, tugging trying to keep his mouth flush with your pussy but something comes to his mind and Dokyeom hums against your folds pulling back to take a breath.
"Oh, baby did I tell you that I saw a really cute dog today? I almost decided to steal it. I mean clearly, I didn't because that is wrong and I don't steal things, especially animals but I really wanted to because---"
A loud muffled groan would escape his lips as you sigh loudly his tongue diving back into your leaking entrance, his fingers digging into your thighs as he appreciates your taste. You love him but god, he loves to talk.
Mingyu
He's got game. He knows he's good at eating you out. He's made you cum so many times on his tongue it's ridiculous but when you glance down at him and he literally winks at you from between your thighs you can't help but close your thighs around his head making him whine and pout against your pussy.
Mingyu's hands grope at your thighs as you roll your eyes finally letting him move and get a full breath as he pouts at you fully.
"I had such a good groove. Why did you do that? Not that getting suffocated by your thighs isn't in my top ten ways to go..."
Another muffled whine leaves the man's mouth when you close your thighs followed by a muffled laugh. Mingyu nibbles at your thighs until you let him loose so he can pout at you again.
"I'm not dating a fuck boy. Don't wink at me from between my thighs while you are eating me out."
"Aww, but I'm cute..."
"God, you are really trying to be suffocated tonight."
"Top ten ways to go...I told you."
Minghao
You would have to remind the man you aren't an art project multiple times a night. Cum is not an art material Xu Minghao.
He'd spend so much time using his fingers to make you cum so he could drag his fingers along your thighs creating patterns only to lick them clean. Listening to you whine and whimper for him to fuck you, but clearly, he is busy...he is painting his canvas.
Seungkwan
Going down on you doesn't have to be a competition but it is for Seungkwan and he is in that competition with himself. How long did it take to make you cum? 3 minutes? Last time it was 5. He can do better.
Vernon
You didn't know your thighs needed nicknames but Vernon needed a reason to slide between Laverne and Shirley to make himself comfortable for the night.
Chan
He would need to be reminded that his face is in fact not a seat or a throne. Especially since he doesn't need to say it in front of friends or family.
He would forget where he was depending on his mood and what you were wearing. You'd see the look in his eye and the next thing you'd know Chan's hand would be on your hip.
"Fuck...I need you on my face."
Your face hot, and you'd look at your friends who would be trying to hide their laughter. By this time they should be used to it but it's still interesting to hear about your bedroom habits so openly.
"How bout we talk about it when we get home, Chan?"
Looking around, he'd only get shy for a moment before he'd look at you again and shake his head.
"Then let's go home. Your throne is getting cold and lonely."
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teojira · 5 months ago
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On my hands and knees for some general headcannons for Koba, a fragile friendship forged from a hunt gone wrong or just mildly getting along like pissy siblings 😭. Your writings are so memorizing, and it's like eating a 5-star meal. All the kudos and love for you as my favorite pota writer
[General Koba drabble/ headcanons!] [Platonic]
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Summary: Koba deals with you because he absolutely has to, not because he actually cares for you.
Warnings: Platonic Koba and Reader, Koba being a dick but that's canon.
A/N: THANK YOU SO SUCH KIND WORDS I TWIRLED MY HAIR??? this literally means so much to me, thank you :( I tried my best to incorporate both ideas you had! I hope this is good, Koba is kinda hard to write for and I am nervous lmfao.
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Ohhh my fucking god, will he never let you rest.
Koba doesn't love humans, it is so very very very apparent in everything he does that he DOESN'T like you, he would let you drop dead in front of him without caring.
Imagine his shock and gal when he starts to actually form some kind of attachment to you. How bitter it makes him to think he can even have a somewhat positive thought about you.
It makes him want to claw his fur out, maybe even go blind in his other eye to get some damn sense into him. How dare you, and if he cared to use human curse words, he'd call you every name in the book.
He begrudgingly will help you learn how to hunt, and I mean begrudgingly. Caesar has to damn near hold the bonobo at gun point to get him to stop being so fucking hostile and just give you a chance.
He watches you from a tree as you hunt pitifully, the spear much too large for you to wield like apes do. It's pathetic really, watching you stumble like a baby elk with no sense of balance. You can't spear a single fish.
"Human...stupid." The Bonobo sneers, rolling his eyes after you continuously miss, he can see your face burn with what he's been told is embarrassment. Serves you right.
Koba has no actual plans on helping you, until he starts to see you throw your spear onto the forest floor with a thump, curling into yourself, hiding your face in your knees.
Great, now you're crying and he's gonna have to be the one to deal with it. Just, Great. Just what he wanted to deal with.
Koba is already mentally trying to prepare himself to get down and attempt to soothe those pitiful cries coming from you when he hears footsteps rapidly approaching.
You, being so caught up in your own world, don't realise a mountain lion is stalking you, but Koba does.
It's scary how fast he can move at his age and with his disabilities, he's down the tree and at your side before you even realize.
The growl he lets out startles you enough to break out of whatever trance you find yourself in, watching Koba plunge his own spear at the mountain lion, the large cat yowling when it's hit You can't help but let out a yelp of your own.
Koba puts more force, piercing the jagged rock deeper into its neck, breathing harshly from the extension.
The cat falls silent finally, Koba turning to you, staring down at you with a glower.
"....stupid."
Koba chooses to ignore how you look back at him with appreciation, he didnt do it for you, he did it for Caesar. Doesn't matter if it gives him a pleasant feeling deep in his core.
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This starts you both off with a rocky 'friendship' between you and the old Bonobo.
He doesn't like that you seem to keep following him around the colony and very vocally tries to scare you off. Hell, he tries to pawn you off to Stone and Grey, but it's no use.
For some reason, you've decided that you'd make his existence even harder and make it a point to bug him.
He hates it. He hates you even more. But it's akin to having a dog, and he lets you know so.
"Like dog. Follow Koba." "That's rude." "...good."
He's such an asshole it's ridiculous. What do you see in him?
Koba eventually gets used to his new normal, antagonizing you just as much as you do him.
He's learned how to get away with fucking with you so that he doesn't get in trouble with Caesar or the others.
Fucker has pushed you into the lake more times than you can count and it makes him huff out laughter. It's all under the guise of being playful.
Jokes on him because you constantly will try and touch him, saying he has fleas or what not, only for him to growl at you when you pull back and stick up a middle finger towards his face. Peak sibling behavior tbh
Caesar sees you as a good thing for Koba, exposure to a human that isn't out to harm.
No matter what Koba claims, you're harmless. Everyone knows this.
They fight about it, Koba adamantly saying he was no part in caring for you, but when Caesar raises an eyebrow ridge, signing quickly that this isn't a discussion, Koba fumes.
Would rather drop dead than admit he misses your presence. If you decide to spend more time with Maurice or Rocket, he gets so pissy.
Koba will drag you away if you push him hard enough, grabbing you by your waist and dragging you. He doesn't care if you don't want him man handling you, oh well.
I know it in my heart that he yanks your hair to piss you off. He does it to get your attention. It's never for anything of importance, he just likes that it pisses you off.
"You can literally just chatter, and I'll hear it!"
The asshole just shrugs with one shoulder.
He's insufferable, and I hate him.
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respectthepetty · 2 months ago
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Pride Petty Watch (SOTUS) 3/5
I'm making my way through the blacklisted shows I was supposed to watch during Pride. I already watched Love in the Air but paused The Untamed so I could deal with my sworn enemy, SOTUS. I'm watching it in five parts (first, second), so now I'm starting on episode seven and have decided 1) Kongpob x M are the perfect ghost ship, 2) this show feels much older than 2016 due to the language and style, and 3) this is a story of a masochistic dom looking for a sado sub.
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Since I can't remember anything about this show, I'm actually excited to see all the ways Kong seeks out punishment warmth from P'Oon in the second half of this series.
Prem and Wad aren't going to be a couple, are they? I want them to be because Prem going instantly soft after they fought another faculty together and now being worried about Wad's wounds is the whole purpose for men to fight! Punch each other, then kiss the bruises!
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I have no Photoshop skills, so I would never criticize someone else's work, but there are times when I see that this show was made with a budget consisting of two pennies rubbed together, and this is one of those moments because who added those people into the scene?! And why are they layered ON TOP of each other?!
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For the people who hated Tae and Mee in The Trainee and the sports day episode in The On1y One, those people would be pissed watching episode seven of SOTUS because it's focused on the hets, capturing the flag, and nothing else. Someone could've at least passed out on that field, so this could be entertaining for me and the juniors, damn.
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The man who played Deer has only acted in one other show, and I'm mad about it. The fact that a senior has to be on that field to answer these ridiculous questions from the freshmen is nonsense, but at least I get to see this man with his gorgeous hair.
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Arthit says everything to Kong in the gayest way possible in front of all his homies and God without any sense of irony.
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And Kong matches that energy every damn time! I'm already sick of them.
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Forming a circle around Arthit to say thanks is kinda creepy to me, which is why it makes perfect sense that this was Kong's idea since these two continue to declare their love for each other indirectly while making everyone within two miles witness.
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But this moment reminded me of Lisa's "Rockstar" music video, so Thailand stays consistent.
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Kong is begging to be punished! Asking Arthit if anyone else knows he cries and likes pink milk is not small talk, and I know Kong just wants to feel like the most special boy for knowing all of this, but I also fully believe he wants Arthit to slap him.
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M came on this trip so he could make heart eyes at Kong, and I will not be convinced otherwise. If I forget May exists, my ship is untouchable. M loves Kong, and it's canon to me.
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Arthit is a Ken! He made all the boys go out to the water, so he could make the girls listen to him play a song on the beach. Someone needs to ask Greta Gerwig if she has watched SOTUS. Greta, if you're in the room with us right now, blink twice.
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"If I tell you to die, will you do it?" YES! What the hell do you think this kid has been trying to tell you?! He wants you to choke him? He wants you to slap him? He has been instigating a fight with you since the first day because he wants your hands on him in the most violent ways. Baby is a masochist and needs to be kept!
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I stand by the claim I made in an earlier post that the crew doesn't seem to like Krist because these title cards in-between parts of the episode do him sooooo dirty. There is no need for this to be the image, but here we are. This is rude.
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I could never hate M. He is so kind and so dumb. I love those qualities in men.
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And I love these qualities in women! (Sidenote: Let Jan kiss more homies, GMMTV!)
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GMMTV's 2024 Outing, is that you player?
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Since Love Sick and Addicted Heroin have been remade, when SOTUS is remade, M and Kong should be the main couple, and May should ship them while also trying to date Prae. Friends-to-Lovers, fifteen episodes, and make New and Singto play the characters again.
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This is the biggest "hell nah" from me because I would not have that many people WALKING ON ME barefoot as some form of initiation. Walking on people is reserved for sex stuff! Just walking on people to walk on people is not normal, and should stop immediately!
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I can see the wheels spinning in Arthit's head, but the pieces are not connecting for him. Your man likes when you yell at him. Kong likes when you get upset at him. The kid likes pushing your buttons because then he gets all your attention. Now say it with me, "Kong is a masochist"
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Kong is practically begging to be slapped, and if Arthit doesn't do it soon, I will.
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This scene hit me so hard I had to pause because it woke me up like I was sleeper agent. I NOW REMEMBER THIS SHOW! Nine episodes in and I finally remember this damn show!
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I am white-knuckling my way though this show now because Kong is dressed for a date, Arthit is late and looking like a mess, and Kong is telling Arthit he will do whatever Arthit wants him to, he will like anything Arthit wants him to like, and he will be anything Arthit wants him to be. I do not know how Arthit is experiencing all that Kong is throwing at him, and not realizing that Kong wants to be his pet.
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"Call Me by My Name Number: A Boy's Journey to Become a Pet" Where's Mame when you need her?
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And now Kong is eating a meal he didn't want, AGAIN, simply because Arthit told him to eat it! I'm not even joking anymore; this shit is kinky, and in this exact moment, I don't hate this show solely because of this reason.
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Fuck going to sleep! I'm staying up and watching episode ten, NOW!
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m00nsbaby · 1 year ago
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The invisible barrier.
(Jake Lockley x F!Reader)
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Tags - Warnings: Jake doesn’t know about Marc or Steven. Angst, smut, fluff, everything. Most of Jake’s dialogues are in Spanish, most of reader’s are in English except in November - December. Word count: 4,9 k. (Lol, sorry) Summary: A whole year trying to understand Jake Lockley. (Literally)
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January.
"ÂĄHola!" (Hello.) The sudden voice next to you made you jump as you made the most important and complicated decision of the week.
Would you choose pretzels with dark or white chocolate?
Reluctantly, you turned to your side to see a man standing just a few inches away from you. On another occasion, you would have probably jumped back or fled to another aisle in the supermarket, but the apologetic smile on his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes told you that he didn't want to be in this situation either.
"PerdĂłn, ÂżPodrĂ­as decirme quĂ© dice aquĂ­?” (Sorry. Could you tell me what it says here?) The words came out quickly from his mouth and you furrowed your brow in confusion. Your fleeting and ridiculous Spanish classes had never been of much use, even less now that you had the opportunity to help an attractive man.
"I don't... Huh." You cleared your throat, searching for a way to say, 'Maybe I can't help you, but I'll move heaven and earth to try.' Dramatic? Yes, of course, but what more could be expected from a hopeless romantic? Many love stories began like this in your mind; this was a scenario you had imagined at least twice before falling asleep. "No hablo español." (I don’t speak Spanish.)
The man blinked a couple of times, as if realizing that he had gathered courage for about 15 minutes only to lose his dignity like this.
"Oh." He cleared his throat, nodding afterward. "Thanks," he said shyly, as if trying to hide his accent.
"No, no, let me help you. What do you need?" You turned the bag of Cheetos he was holding in his hands so you could see the list of ingredients on the back as he was asking. Both of you were guessing what you were saying. Your gaze scanned the list, nodding your head when you detected the problem. Everything was written in English.
Sure, your aisle companion had an extra problem on top of that. The letters were too small for his poor eyesight, and he would rather ask for help from strangers than give up on the idea of using glasses.
"Give me a second." Your fingers quickly handled your phone as you took the bag from his hands.
You took a photo and the app took care of the work for you, translating every word on the red packaging you held. You didn't hesitate to take a step forward and extend your hand far enough for your phone to be at the stranger's ear level, who didn't question your methods for a moment.
He just stood still, listening.
"ÂżColorante rojo nĂșmero 6?” (Red dye number 6?) He questioned when the voice function finished. And you quickly scanned the phone screen, trying to find the part on the list that seemed closest to what he had just said.
Well, seis = 6, that one was easy.
"Yes, 6." You saw him smile and take the bag back from your hands to shake it in a celebratory manner. "Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why 6?" He guessed based on how you tilted your head to one side what you were asking.
"Soy alĂ©rgico al nĂșmero 4, o al menos eso creo.” (I'm allergic to the number 4. Or at least, I think I am.) He pointed to his throat. "Siento comezĂłn en la garganta cuando como cosas que lo tienen.” (My throat itches when I eat things that have it.")
Did you understand anything he said? No, nothing beyond the number 4. So, you smiled and nodded, eliciting a warm laugh from him.
He was cute.
"Gracias." (Thank you.) It seemed like he understood the basics, just like you. It was better to use his words than to deal with the pronunciation of the "t" and "h" together.
"It's okay." You shrugged while continuing to smile in a friendly manner. It wasn't because the stranger was incredibly attractive; you always behaved this way with people, or at least you tried to. "Enjoy your Cheetos."
Another giggle. "Cheetos," he repeated, imitating the way you pronounced the brand's name.
You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to the pretzels without saying anything else.
Well, there went the potential love of your life. Both of you were too shy to engage in casual conversation. You were aware that pretending to have the confidence to do so would be a lie.
Silently, you paid for your pretzels covered in white chocolate, looking around in case the guy was still nearby. After a few seconds, you gave up. Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even with one more chance, you wouldn't have approached him. More than 20 dollars for a bag of chocolate covered pretzels? That must be a crime, the first time you bought one . . .
"Hola de nuevo.” (Hi again.) The leather of his jacket brushed against your skin as you bumped into him. He was in the exact same position as you, one hand holding his Cheetos, the other clutching the receipt he was trying to read with squinted eyes.
You almost had a heart attack.
"Hi." You smiled, your cheeks betraying you as they turned rosy just from being around him like this. You had to take a step back after the clumsy little push you gave him.
"¿Tienes cómo regresar a tu casa?” (Do you have a way to get home?) You frowned at the question. This only confirmed that your crazy fantasy wasn't going to work out; there was a huge barrier between you.
He could see the confusion on your face so he pointed outside. It was raining heavily.
"Oh." You had been so engrossed in your pursuit of him that you hadn't thought about that. It wasn't a terrible problem, though; you could just wait until it calmed down.
You could spend another $20 on an umbrella in the worst case. Or call a car to take you the 10-minute walk to your house.
"I'll just wait." You had to remind yourself not to get too deep into your words.
"Yo te llevo.” (I'll give you a ride.) He quickly said. "A ride." The way the 'r' rolled off his mouth was enough to make you dizzy.
"Are you sure?" This couldn't be happening. This genuinely couldn't be happening.
"Of course, I'm sure," he repeated, smiling. This couldn't be happening.
It couldn't.
That night, you ran together to his car in the rain, laughing. He opened the door for you, even though it meant a few extra minutes of water poured on him.
You gave him directions through your phone, and you learned how to say "cuadras" (blocks) to guide someone next time, and he kept telling you something you didn't understand, but he noticed you were just nodding for him to keep talking.
He said goodbye with a kiss on your cheek. He used a word similar to "custom" to justify it, ‘costumbre’ maybe.
Oh, and you exchanged numbers. It turned out the stranger, Jake Lockley, worked as a taxi driver most nights. You understood that because the words "taxi" and "noche" were in your mental dictionary.
February.
Your first date was a disaster.
You never considered that to spend the day together, you had to exchange more than 5 words, and Jake stained your beautiful pink sundress with an ice cream that didn't even taste that good.
Oh, at some point, you tripped too. You were so focused on trying to understand one of the anecdotes he was telling you that you ended up on the ground with a scraped knee.
That wasn't so bad, though. I mean, you had Jake on one knee, checking yours. He even had you step on his thigh so he could clean you up with his ice cream-covered napkin.
When the day came to an end, he took you home. You noticed he had memorized your address, making it easier for both of you. You hummed a song together to cover the silence of two people who had to resort to other means of communication than talking.
"I had fun." Lie, this hadn't been anything like you imagined a first date, not after reading books or watching movies.
He nodded silently as he got out of the car to open the door for you.
And even though the date was a complete disaster, Jake kissed you.
He kissed you against the closed door of your apartment, holding you by the waist as if you intended to escape from his arms, begging you silently not to separate from him.
"¿Repetimos la próxima semana?” (Second date next week?)
March.
Text messages flowed throughout the weeks. Depending on the day, one or the other used the translator to send messages that the other could understand.
Sometimes they were just silly pictures, mostly of cats. You found a silly liking for sending him videos and photos of different animals in romantic situations, hugging each other and such, with only the description 'us.'
Jake responded ‘nosotros’ with different emojis depending on the day. He liked the white heart.
His car became familiar to you, as well as the late-night drives with music. You wondered if Jake had started neglecting his work to spend more time with you, and although it sounded selfish, you didn't care much.
You enjoyed his company.
April.
Your fingers played with his curls while both of you rested comfortably on your bed, you on the pillows, Jake on your abdomen.
He was surprisingly interested in one of the old books you hadn't touched in a long time.
"Jake?" He immediately put the book down to look at you. "Can you help me with a word?"
"ÂżAhora?" (Now?) he asked.
"Right now."
"ÂżCuĂĄl palabra?" (Which word?) He closed his eyes as your fingers continued to enjoy playing with his hair. It was so soft that the gentle caresses you gave were enough to mess it up.
"Boyfriend."
"Novio." You stretched your free hand with difficulty. He opened his eyes again, looking at you with interest as you struggled in the least attractive way to open one of your drawers with one hand. Something cracked in it.
You put the bag of Cheetos on his chest, clearing your throat afterwards.
"¿Quieres ser mi novio?” (Do you want to be my boyfriend?)
May.
"Jake?"
The car hadn't started yet when he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong. You stretched enough to touch his knuckles, which were marked with a purple tone and scraped.
Your gaze went to him. It was as if both of you knew how to communicate through looks.
"No sĂ© quĂ© me pasĂł. Mi teorĂ­a es que golpee algo mientras dormĂ­a.” (I don't know what happened. My theory is that I hit something while asleep.) He frowned as he extended his fingers to get a better view of them. It looked like he had beaten up someone, and he couldn't deny that it hurt, especially when he gripped the steering wheel of the car.
"Are you still having those strange dreams?"
"Weird dreams," Jake whispered to himself as a way to remember your words. "SĂ­, sueños raros.” (Yes, weird dreams.)
You pursed your lips without saying more as you brushed his knuckles with your thumb, as gently as you could.
"Let's go." You finally gave in, returning to your seat with an unconvincing gesture.
June.
"I don't understand football." You said as you walked hand in hand, leaning some of your weight against his body.
Technically, neither of you were drunk; you were just flushed from the heat of the alcohol, giggly and a little tipsy. Jake had mentioned how funny it would be to go to one of those bars where they show football games for fans, even though neither of you were fans. Choosing a team randomly to support, drinking things with strange names, and maybe sharing spicy wings sounded like a good plan.
That was your Friday night.
"Tampoco yo.” (Neither do I.) Jake was doing his best not to laugh. He failed miserably.
When you reached his car, you leaned your body against it, and your hands ended up on your boyfriend's shirt. He immediately knew what you wanted, bringing both hands to your waist and leaning forward, closer.
"Is it hot here, or was it the 4 margaritas we drank?" You whispered while trying to contain your smile.
"Debe ser ese vestido.” (It must be that dress.) His lips brushed against yours. The sudden change in his voice made you shiver, so husky. “O por lo menos es lo que me está poniendo caliente a mi.” (At least I know that's what's making me hot.) It was the last thing he said before kissing you as if his life depended on it.
You moaned into his mouth, pressed between his body and the car. The kiss was wet as his mischievous hands slid under your dress, squeezing your ass firmly enough for it to hurt. Not in a bad way. "Jake." You complained as you looked around to make sure no one was walking by to see you.
"Date la vuelta.” (Turn around.) Apparently, your Spanish only worked in moments of convenience because you obeyed immediately. You turned your body with difficulty, mainly because he refused to let go of you. You felt his erection against you as soon as your cheek collided with the cold metal of the car. He was rubbing against your ass while biting your neck to his liking, sucking and licking your skin until he marked it. "Fuck, Jake." You whispered with your eyes closed. You could have cum right there with just his kisses and soft touches. Fortunately, he was more considerate because one of the hands that rested on your waist little by little went between your legs, your dress was already raised enough to only have to worry about your panties, he brushed his fingers over your abdomen before sliding his middle finger between your lips. First he wetted it well before moving up to your clit. His touch made you tremble and hiss. "ÂżUn par de besos te tienen asĂ­, corazĂłn?” (A couple of kisses have you like this, sweetheart?) You could hear the smirk on his lips as his finger traced circles against your most sensitive area. "ImagĂ­nate como serĂĄ cuando estĂ© dentro de ti.” (Imagine how it will be like when I'm inside you.) A shameless moan escaped from you. "Eso quieres, ÂżNo?” (You want that, don't you?) He kept talking in your ear while he distributed one or two kisses between your neck and your shoulder. “Sentirme duro. Profundo.” (To feel me hard. Deep.) He simulated thrusts between each word, his hip pushing yours harder against the car and against his hand that kept playing with your pussy to make you whimper. You nodded without opening your eyes. "Con palabras." (Use your words.) He said clicking his tongue.
"Yes please." You begged desperately while trying to get air through your mouth. "Buena niña.” (Good girl.) You swallowed the complaint of feeling him take his hand out of your panties, just because you immediately heard how he started to unbutton his jeans. "Escupe.” (Spit.) You could feel his girth between your legs, letting you know that there were no more clothes involved. You took a few seconds to be able to clean the fingers that were inside you before with your tongue, making Jake groan just by imagining what you would do with your mouth in another situation. When you were satisfied you spat into the palm of his hand as requested. He wrapped his hand around his cock, and covered it with your saliva. He used the same hand to accommodate it between your lips. A sigh of relief left your mouth when you finally felt it inside you. A muffled whimper accompanied the way your muscles suddenly relaxed, as if that was what you needed. "Mierda, amor." (Shit, love.) As Jake's forehead rested against your shoulder, he muttered under his breath. "Voy a terminar rĂĄpido si sigues apretĂĄndome asĂ­.” (I'm going to finish fast if you keep squeezing me like this.) His voice made you dizzy, you mentally thanked all those days you spent understanding each other because his words could have been enough to push you to the limit. It didn't take long for both of you to pick up a delicious rhythm. When he pushed his hip forward, you pushed back to make him go deeper. When he was pulling back, you were pulling forward almost taking his member all the way out to prepare for his next thrust. You were so close you had to bite the hand he put to your mouth to keep from screaming. "ÂżVas a terminar para mi, mi vida?” (Are you going to finish for me, my life?) He whimpered. Oh god, he fucking whimpered. He had a desperate tone to his voice, almost like he was comforting you. "DĂ©jame sentirlo, por favor, por favor.” (Let me feel it, please, please.) This time it was he who was begging. Your saliva had started running against Jake's hand. You were seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut, and how close you were wasn't helping at all. The spasms had started around him, and without warning, the inevitable happened. He finished inside of you. His cum being pushed deeper inside you with each thrust he took to finish his orgasm was enough for you to reach yours. "Amor, carajo.” (Love, damn it.) His voice cracked at the sensitivity combining with your walls squeezing him every few seconds. You were milking him. "Te amo.” (I love you.) He whispered as his breath interrupted each of his words. That was the first time he said it.
July.
The only thing that relaxed you was that this 360° turn apparently had nothing to do with you.
Jake was someone else.
His flirty and playful personality was just a memory to you. Under his eyes, there were huge dark circles since his dreams had become crazier and more frequent.
There were unexplained wounds on his body, according to him. Or sometimes there were none, but he felt the pain throughout his body, as if a truck had run over him, he said.
He became silent, as if he felt he was talking too much when he started to let out words about what was happening. He still hugged and kissed you, still spent afternoons with you and continued to respond “nosotros" to your silly animal photos.
But something wasn't right. There was something so... strange.
You did what you could to work on it, to let it pass.
Even if it cost you the trust in your relationship.
August.
Your hands trembled as you dialed his number for the tenth time that night. Maybe you were being dramatic, but Jake always made sure to let you know when he had returned home.
The sudden change that had occurred in him over the past 3 months didn't help at all. You wouldn't last a lifetime without wondering why his body kept producing wounds he claimed not to remember, or about those days of complete dissociation on his part, when he swore you were playing with him when you told him it was Saturday and not Wednesday.
"I just want to know you're okay." You whispered with a broken voice to the voicemail. "Please, just tell me you're okay."
There was no response that night. You couldn't sleep either.
The next day, when he showed up at your doorstep with the dark circles you had learned to get used to over the days, your body's first reaction was to push him with all your strength. It was only enough to make him stagger.
"You're an idiot." You spat the words, your eyes flooded with tears.
"Me quedĂ© dormido anoche, perdĂłn.” (I fell asleep, I'm sorry.) He didn't even seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth, but how could he explain to you what was happening in his life if he didn't even know what the hell was going on?
"How much longer do you plan on lying to me?" You didn't care that people passing by on the street saw you both as crazy. You in your pajamas, him leaning against the car as a method of protection.
"No te estoy mintiendo." (I’m not lying to you.) He raised his voice a little, letting out a lot of the feelings he had been suppressing for a while.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" The worst part was that you also had things bottled up inside you, the worry for him being the thing that choked you every day, squeezing tighter and tighter.
"Creo que no quieres entenderme.” (I think you don't want to understand me.) He was angry. You had never heard him like this, especially not directed at you. "Creo que ni siquiera estás intentando.” (I think you're not even trying.)
Damn the day you started to understand his words.
"I'm not understanding you, Jake?" You had already broken into tears. Your finger collided against his chest in an accusatory manner while he seemed unaffected, even though inside he was falling apart.
It was too much for him. Everything was too much.
"I've been trying for months to ignore what you're hiding from me." It was so difficult to argue in this way that frustration was suffocating you.
"¡No te estoy ocultando una mierda!” (I'm not hiding shit from you!) You snapped.
With fear.
Mid-sentence, Jake had reached out a hand to push you. Not with much force, just enough to separate you from his chest.
In seconds, he became aware of what he had done. If the car wasn't behind him, he would have moved even further away from you. He was overwhelmed by fear too.
He was losing himself as he had suspected.
"Me tengo que ir.” (I have to go.)
"Jake Lockley, if you leave, I don't want you to come back." Tired of seeing him run away from the problems, you resorted to the last card you would have liked to play.
You were foolish to think he would risk hurting you again. The last thing you heard was the sound of the engine accelerating to get away from you as fast as possible.
September.
The first part of September is blurry. You did your best to survive without him, but the days passed so quickly that you began to question if you were alive or just living in a bad dream that had lasted longer than necessary.
It was as if Jake was dead to you, without any sign, without any notice, nothing.
He simply disappeared.
The clear countdown of the days begins on the 13th, when your phone lit up to notify you that he wasn't doing much better than you.
✉: ¿Podemos hablar? (Can we talk?)
✉: Estoy perdido. (I'm lost.)
It hurt not having him, but it hurt more to see Jake's well-being. Not knowing how he was, where he was, what he was doing after that tragic day tormented you.
You replied, and the most important relationship in your life turned into a series of midnight calls where you tried to understand what your ex-boyfriend was mumbling from the solitude of his car.
You had friendships that had started in stranger ways than this, you could endure this.
Make it work.
October.
"Trick or treat." Mentally, he slapped himself for how ridiculous his way of reappearing was.
A half-smile appeared on your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with an embarrassed Jake, wearing your favorite leather jacket and both hands in his pockets as if he was waiting to be scolded by you.
"I doubt any of these things don't have artificial coloring number 4." That was your only response as you leaned your body against the door frame. With one hand, you held the huge container of candies that came out of hiding every Halloween.
"Estaba por aquĂ­.” (I was around here.) Jake pointed back, the path that led to the supermarket, or at least that's what you assumed. He had a very lame excuse to see you, but that worked for you. The interest was enough. "Y pensĂ© en venir a saludar.” (And I thought of coming. To say hi.)
"I'm watching Friday The 13th." You looked behind him. Children approached with shyness, seeking candy. "Come in, let me finish with the candies."
Your smile was so genuine that Jake's heart skipped a beat. How had he lasted so long without you? Those lost 3 months would always be present in the multiple mistakes he made.
That night, you kissed until it hurt. Until your lips hurt from bites, until the skin of his neck burned from love bites, until his fingers became imprinted on your waist. "I love you." You said between moans as the movie gave you an almost unreal vision of who the love of your life was. Flashes in white, in red, even in black showing you how beautiful he was from any angle or lighting. He made your sofa creak as he raised his hip toward you, thrusting into you even deeper if that was possible. "I love you, Jake." You repeated with a broken voice while your little jumps gained more strength. Your body was already exhausted, your legs were shaking and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck from sweat but emotionally you refused to get away from him. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.” (I love you. I love you. I love you.) His whispers mixed with his panting. You both seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go away again." Your fingers tightened on his chest, scratching at his skin as you had done many times before. "Don't ever leave me again, Jake." The way you said his name burned in his heart. He brought a hand to one of yours to squeeze them on his chest, making you feel his agitated heartbeat. There was no need to say more, not while your kisses, movements and moans spoke for themselves. That night, as you rested on his chest after an orgasm that made you both shake from head to toe, he promised you never to leave. "Mi vida.” (My life.) He repeated as his fingers untangled your hair and your weight on him increased as you drifted off to sleep. "Mi cielo. Mi corazón.” (My darling. My heart.) He whispered in your ear. "Mi todo." (My everything.)
November.
Everything with Jake was stupidly easy.
Laughing, singing, existing.
As easy as in the romantic comedies you used to love watching before you met him. And it's not that you had forgotten about those because of him, but now you enjoyed watching action movies, those that allow you to get distracted without losing track of the plot.
You didn't press him to talk about what happened in those months, knowing that there were still a thousand secrets between you because you still saw strange bruises on his body, marks on his knuckles, or felt him getting up in the early hours of the morning when he stayed over with you.
"Leave me alone!" You ran down the hallway, laughing with him trailing behind. Probably restraining himself because it would be impossible for him not to catch you with his eyes closed.
He wrapped an arm around you to press you against his chest and used the other to prevent both of you from crashing into the wall. He was laughing too.
"Do you give up?" He squeezed you tighter with his arm.
"Never! Let me go!"
The laughter almost made it difficult for you to speak.
"Come back to me, and I'll let you go."
The seconds of silence churned his stomach.
"What?"
"I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Officially. Would you be my girlfriend? Please?"
It almost seemed like he was begging you.
You reassured his fears with a kiss.
December.
"I don't understand how you can eat these things." You took a deep breath through your mouth, sticking out your tongue, already reddened by the red dye number 6, to seek some relief from the burning sensation.
Jake was setting down a fifth box from his arms. He sighed, tired.
"No puedo creer que no me estĂ©s ayudando.” (I can't believe you're not helping me.) He approached you to steal one of the Cheetos from your bag while you licked your fingers. "Te dije que uses palillos chinos, asĂ­ evitas el polvo.” (I told you to use chopsticks, that way you avoid getting your fingers dusty.)
"The dust is the best part." You popped your thumb out of your mouth.
"Disgusting." He feigned a look of disgust as he settled between your legs, resting a hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.
"You didn't say that when..."
"¡Dios mío!" (My God!) He gasped, biting his lower lip to suppress his laughter. He leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from you. "Compórtate.” (Behave.)
"Are there many more boxes left? I didn't think you had so much stuff in your apartment." You pushed the box aside as you leaned forward to prolong your kisses.
"This is my apartment." He whispered with a smile against your lips.
"Touché." Your fingers slowly roamed his shirt collar before pulling him closer with a tug on the fabric. "What if you take a break?"
Jake's hands were already on his pants, figuring out how to unbutton his jeans without separating from your body.
"I'm never going to stop unpacking." He complained as his lips began to descend towards your neck.
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Ok now that I have written happy endings for the three of them I’m sick of them, lol, I’ll try to get angst-ier with these thingies
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engie-ivy · 10 months ago
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@wolfstarmicrofic 5th: Cupid💘
817 words
When Remus let James Potter set him up on a date with his best friend, Lily had hoped that at least he would find out dating really isn't that terrible, and finally start allowing Lily to set him up on dates as well.
Not Sorry
Lily stumbles a little as she walks over to Remus, because damn those bloody heels.
Remus turns towards her from where he's standing at the bar and arches an eyebrow. “Lils, you might want to go easy on the wine.”
Which is ridiculous. Lily has only had three glasses. And some champagne before that. And maybe a cocktail at some point.
“Don't change the topic!” Lily says, even though they hadn't actually been talking yet. She jabs her finger at Remus’ chest. “I'm still mad at you!”
“Oh, come on, Lils," Remus chuckles. “You're going to have to get over it at some point.”
“We had a deal, Lupin!”
“I know, Lily, but-”
“A deal! All I ever wanted was to get you this fun and exciting dating life,” Lily sighs wistfully. “So you could have handsome men take you out and boost your ego like you deserve, and we could share dating stories and laugh about weird guys together. But did you allow me to set you up on a date ever?”
“I did not,” Remus admits.
“You did not!” Lily exclaims, as if Remus didn't already just admit to that. “It was all ‘No, Lily, I'm just the sort of person who's better off by himself’, ‘No, Lily, I'm not looking for anything’, ‘No, Lily, I'm too independent and need my alone time’, and yadda yadda.” She rolls her eyes. “But then what happened? You allowed your new coworker to set you up on a date with his best friend!”
“It's just very hard to say no to James,” Remus defends himself.
Lily scoffs. Although, while she has only met James Potter a few times, if she's honest she can kind of imagine. When Potter is looking at you with those puppy eyes of his, giving you that hopeful smile, all bright and eager and- Lily shakes her head. She's getting off track. “But we came to a very clear agreement,” she continues, placing her hands on her hips. “If you would learn that going on a date is actually not such a dreadful experience as you seemed to think, you would finally start letting me set you up on dates as well. And was the date dreadful?”
“No, it wasn't,” Remus sighs.
“And did you let me set you up on any dates afterwards, as you promised?”
“No, I didn't,” Remus sighs.
“No, you didn't!” Lily mimics. “Not one date, nothing!” She lets out a dramatic sigh. “And I had so many ideas
 That cute redhead from the coffeeshop, that fit bloke from my yoga class, the hot guy from accounting
 It would've been so fun, so exciting, maybe we even could've gone on double dates at some point!”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Sirius appears at Remus’ side, sliding an arm around his waist. “But as much as I enjoy bonding with your family– our family–,” he corrects with a smile. “Your Aunt Joy has been telling me about her bad knee for half an hour now. The sooner you get that woman some wine, the better.”
“And you!” Lily says, turning her attention to Sirius. “You're to blame as well, you know!”
Sirius blinks at her. “Alright, Evans?”
Lily jabs her finger at Sirius’ chest now. “You just had to snatch him off the market right away, didn't you?”
Sirius blinks again, and then barks a laugh. “Well, can you blame me, Lils? I couldn't risk letting this one get away, now could I?” He presses a kiss to Remus’ cheek. “I had to lock it down as soon as possible.”
Lily purses her lips, because, well, no, maybe she actually can't blame him for that.
“I'll be right there, babe,” Remus says, squeezing Sirius’ hand.
Sirius nods and walks off to deal with Remus’ aunt.
Remus looks at Lily and shrugs. “What can I say, Lils? James just struck gold the first time. If you want me to apologize, I'm going to have to disappoint you.” He looks over at the other side of the room while touching the brand new golden ring around his finger, to where Sirius is chatting to his aunts. Sirius catches his gaze, and the forced smile on his face turns into a soft, genuine one. Remus smiles as well. “I'm really not sorry at all.”
Lily watches Remus and Sirius make their way through the room to chat with all their guests.
They do look awfully good together, she thinks sourly.
Then she turns on her heels, having decided to go look for James Potter and give him a piece of her mind. Stupid Potter, thinking he can play Cupid and set their best friends up for their happy-ever-after! Like, who does he think he is? Making Remus so bloody happy, making her bloody cry with that stupid best man speech of his, and looking so bloody handsome in his stupid suit!
Yes, she'll tell him alright.
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blue-rose-soul · 10 months ago
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"Great Alastor Altruist* died for his friends!"
This scene has been spinning in my brain since Thursday. Like a lot of other people, my first thought was that this was an indication that Alastor had grown to care for Charlie and her friends at the hotel. And it's not because of the words he says. Even if you're watching without subtitles and don't see the quotations around that phrase, it's pretty obvious that he's laughing at the very thought.
"Me? Alastor? Dying for them?"
"Ridiculous."
"Absurd!"
"Utterly laughable!"
No, what makes me think that there might be a kernel of truth there isn't the words by themselves. It's the look on his face as he says them.
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This is the part where Alastor's angry snarl breaks and he begins to look genuinely afraid. He clutches his chest. He digs his fingers into his scalp, drags his hand down the side of his face. And that's a perfectly reasonable reaction to nearly dying! It's very human! But I think it's very telling that this expression doesn't settle on his face until he's talking about dying for someone else. Before this he looked more angry than anything, and he lapses back into anger up until he begins talking about trying to find a way out of his deal.
Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why anyone would think otherwise. The thing about Alastor is that, despite how blatant it is, his mask works. Like I stated earlier, I find myself searching every word, expression, and gesture from Alastor for double meaning. Ostensibly, there's no one here for Alastor to lie to**. No one he has to put up an act for. But his smile, which he's already fully admitted is faker than fake, remains firmly in place. I wonder if putting up an act is so second nature to him at this point he can't help but do it even when he's alone. Maybe he tries to fool himself as much as other people.
I believe that he has come to care, but I can't fully believe it. I won't be surprised to be wrong. But there are some scenes that just don't make sense to me if he really doesn't care at all.
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His chat with Niffty the night before the extermination, for example. Niffty isn't really someone he needs to trick. He has power over her, whether it's because he owns her soul or because of her blind devotion to him. It's telling that while everyone else is hanging out together, sharing drinks at the bar, Alastor keeps his distance and positions himself above them. At this point, Alastor seems to care about them the way we, the audience, care about them; as entertainment. He's enjoying watching their story unfold up close, but that's all there is to it. He admits to Niffty that one could get accustomed to being with them. Not him though! He's above all that.
Then the battle happens. At first, Alastor's role in the battle didn't require him to assume too much risk. He was on crowd control, limiting the number of exorcists the rest of the hazbins have to deal with at once. And he slayed a not insubstantial number of angels in the process***. But then Adam broke through Alastor's shield and singled him out. It would have been reasonable for Alastor to put some distance between himself and the Lead Exorcist. Charlie did say it was his job to deal with Adam, but as I've already discussed, Alastor really had no hope of winning that fight alone. Maybe if he'd escaped right then and there, or fought Adam alongside Charlie things would have turned out differently. Granted, I don't think his pride would have allowed him to take either of those options.
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Regardless, the end result is that Alastor did come very close to dying for a cause that wasn't his. Considering what Adam did to the hotel, Alastor's pretty damn lucky he's not in two pieces here.
Now, I don't think this means Alastor is immediately going to turn around and integrate int o the hazbin family. Immediately after this line where he mocks the idea of dying for Charlie's cause, he gets angry again, leans further into the Radio Demon persona and starts contemplating ways to escape his contract. I think, that like someone recoiling after accidentally touching a hot stove, Alastor's going to pull further away from them. One thing I am certain about is how Alastor feels about his leash; he hates it. He wants to be rid of it. He doesn't know how to do that yet, but he's working out a plan and having Charlie in his corner is part of that plan. Giving a genuine shit about her or the other hazbins is not part of that plan. It's another leash, not as literal as the one connecting him to his patron but just as binding.
Alastor realizing he might actually care about these people may just make him more dangerous to them than if he just didn't care at all.
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(*The word 'altruist' here being used as a title, not a name. Like something you'd see in a newspaper headline, or on a headstone.)
(**There do seem to be some odd eye motifs in the environment, but at no point does Alastor give any indication he is aware of them or acknowledge their presence in anyway. And I highly doubt he would have said certain things if he believed his patron was actively watching him.)
(***Taking this opportunity to go off topic a bit to call the Vees out on their hypocrisy. For all their bluster about 'taking the fight to Heaven' and how 'pussy' the older Overlords supposedly are, I didn't see any of them on the battlefield. Alastor was. He fought as long and hard as he could. There was nothing cowardly about him living to fight another day.)
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