#control over his situation and his sense of self to simply admit this than to pretend like he was an absent player

[thethronezone]

Which negative traits do you think would show up in the Primarch's parenting style?

Mortarion - When he and his kid are having a disagreement, he tends to ignore them, give them the silent treatment. Mortarion does not do this out of menace or to punish them, he simply thinks that by giving them some time and personal space they will eventually get over it and grow stronger from this conflict between them.

Fulgrim - So obsessed with appearances and perfection, Fulgrim has such high expectations on his kid. And he's got such a specific view on what constitutes as perfection. Micromanages his kid's life because he wants them to be their "best self".

Angron - Obviously, his temper is a problem, but the biggest issue is the distance he puts between himself and his kid. He does this simply because he does not want to hurt them. Because of this, he does not see or talk to them as much as either of them would want to.

Magnus - Because of his immense pride, he will never be able to apologize or admit to being in the wrong. Magnus is also so convinced that he's the smartest person in any room he's in so if his kid wants to do things their way he will do whatever he can do convince them to do exactly as he says instead.

Perturabo - Geez, where to start? He is strict and controlling to the max, expecting nothing but excellence and outmost obedience from his kid at all times. At the same time however, he will never be able to see them as good enough.

Alpharius - It has to be the secrecy and mystery. While some might be good, the fact that most things are posed as a question or a challenge makes the kid feel like they can never get a straight answer or simply ask for help.

Lorgar - Aside from practically pushing religion down their throat? It would have to be how he tries to justify suffering and negative experiences. Oh, they are going through a rough time? It's just god testing them. They feel overwhelmed by expectations and duties? God wouldn't give them something they could not handle. It gets annoying real quick and makes it feel like he's invalidating their feelings.

Horus - Keeps comparing them to himself all the time. He does it out of a sense of love but it's... a lot. He's the Warmaster, favored son of the Emperor. That's a lot to live up to and Horus does not realize that his constant comparisons between them causes his kid to feel totally inferior and inadequate compared to him.

Konrad - Constantly suspects his kid. Konrad is not a good person and he sees so much of himself in his child which causes him to live in constant fear that they will turn out just like him. Scrutinizes everything they do and sees signs and problems where there are none.

Sanguinius - Since he's both aware of the future and struggles with the Red Thirst, Sanguinius is plagued by fear. The fear of wasting the precious time he has with his child, the fear of disappointing them. It sometimes causes him to lose focus on the present and not actively participate in the moment, making him feel very distant.

Corvus - A bad trait would be his lack of privacy. Corvus might feel a tad guilty about snooping around in his kid's belongings or reading their personal journal but he justifies it by saying it's for their own good. This is all to keep them safe, to better understand them, to prevent unfortunate situations.

Ferrus - Similar to Lorgar in a way, Ferrus believes that hardship and suffering has a reason. In this case, the reason is to grow stronger because of it. Which isn't necessarily wrong but sometimes, a child just wants to be comforted and that is not something Ferrus can do.

Rogal - Listen, we all know that Rogal is about as emotive as a brick wall but not even getting a kid manages to improve that. While they are mostly used to it and can read him better than most, the lack of response can easily grow frustrating, especially when his kid is really emotionally invested in something and he's just not.

Vulkan - The Primarch of the Salamanders is a bit TOO involved in his kid's life, though this is something that's mainly noticed as they get older and start desiring a life separate from him. He's just... everywhere and while the support might feel nice at first, it quickly starts feeling suffocating.

Lion - Emotionally stunted. His kid could be crying their heart out and he would just tell them to suck it up and stop acting so ridiculous. Crying doesn't solve anything. Neither does moping around. Don't tarnish your legacy blah blah blah. There are a grand total of ZERO emotional talks between them because Lion believes them to be unneccsary.

Leman - Heavily biased when it comes to a lot of things, Leman instills these views on his kid. He's quite stubborn when it comes to instilling his views and values upon them which can cause conflict and intense arguments when they get older and develop their on opinions.

Jaghatai - Freedom is good but the level of freedom and independence Jaghatai gives his kid can be a bit much. He expects them to figure most things out on their own so he kinda just lets them wander around aimlessly. This causes them to feel lost at times and like they have to do everything themself or they aren't smart enough.

Roboute - There's a lot of expectations on Guilliman's kid, not just from Roboute himself but from everyone else as well. Guilliman is aware of this and while he tries to ease their anxiety, his own expectations of them sometimes makes him neglect this emotional soothing. After all, his child needs to grow into their future role as a leader of the Imperium and he can't afford to coddle them.

[dxxtruction]

Louis does see Armand for all his flaws, and yet still chooses him, and loves him, but when he sees them for what they really were, and really entailed, he no longer can. Oh, gradations of evil. Louis had in ways bought into it.

[orlesianhennin]

I really feel like so many people who hate Vivienne for being power hungry do not fully grasp and appreciate the desperation that Vivienne feels because she conceals it so well… as little content as she got, she honestly is expertly written and presented and it’s why it disappoints me so much when people hate her for surface level reasons… her writer deserves so much more appreciation.

I think it is subtle because she hides it and you really have to care about the character to seek out these threads and understand her motivations… she is in danger of total irrelevance, being cast aside by society (and history), and she is forced to ride the coattails of some upstart organization because all of the institutions she is invested in have either totally failed her or cast her aside.

She is clearly a prideful person who does not readily admit this… but her true talent is how clearly she can evaluate this and understand her own position. She suffers no delusions. She knows the Circle’s standing in society is diminished to nothing if it doesn’t house and account for the majority of mages, and she is left with just meek Chantry loyalists and sycophants who are lost without her guiding hand, as even otherwise pro-Circle mages with any sense have abandoned ship and left both rebels and loyalists at this point to see where the chips fall (Ellandra) - and the Chantry itself has been all but decimated in terms of military and political power. The one lifeline she has is the Imperial Court, and the fickle nobility have moved on from her - the mages are now a threat that she cannot control or offer any meaningful opposition to, and Celene’s favor has turned to Morrigan, and Vivienne does not know if she will ever have it again. She knows Bastien is dying, and that all that she has left at court will be those who hold kind feelings towards her such as his family, and that is a position she can never accept - being at the mercy of others.

We meet Vivienne, this impressive, powerful mage, who has made a life for herself by maneuvering brilliantly, all to improve her own standing, at a point where she is in danger of losing everything she has. And she doesn’t let on, at least not explicitly, but she joins the Inquisition out of desperation - it’s obvious she sees it as an opportunity, but the gravity of the situation for her isn’t clear from the start. She refuses to lay down and fade away. Vivienne would never had joined this fledgling upstart organization if she was in a better position at Court or there wasn’t a vacuum of power. She is very close to having nothing left, and starting over - and so she does. Before the rug can be pulled from under her, she gets out and sets off for herself again.

Vivienne, often accused of pride, privilege, and self importance, comes to the Inquisitor out of pure humility. She knows she is reduced. And her gamble ultimately pays off, and the Inquisition becomes the political juggernaut that it does, and she becomes more powerful and important than ever just by association. And I like to think, especially with an Inquisitor who respects and befriends her, that she plays no small part in shaping the organization.

I think this is also why, potentially, she plays it so cool at the Winter Palace. She doesn’t get involved… she doesn’t need to. Simply being present is a statement to the court, and she truly doesn’t care about who wins; it’s not just the Game, it’s personal, despite what she claims. That they cast her aside, and now they are interested again… not necessarily in her, but still, she sees the paradigm shifting again. She is now a part of the organization who gets to change Orlais, and favor with the Inquisition is quickly becoming just as important as favor with Celene.

The whole arc is a subtle one as she really doesn’t get much attention, but if you pay close attention, it shows how expertly Vivienne plays politics. We already know she came from nothing and maneuvered into a powerful position. But I think not everyone realizes she is nearly back to nothing when we first meet her… and through the course of the game’s events, by allying with the right people, she plays the game well enough to become an advisor to the most influential person in southern Thedas… and potentially even Divine. But her initial plea to the Inquisitor, for all the great lengths she goes to keep up the appearance of strength and invulnerability, comes from a place of utter desperation.

[d3lly1000]

AU: TEAM SONIC HUMANIZED BUT... VERSION CLASSIC!

I was without power at home for a few days and to distract myself I ended up drawing some of the concepts on paper! I couldn't help myself and ended up transferring them to digital format as soon as they came back on… And I simply love them so much aaaaaaaaaaaa

As always, I'll be leaving some interesting facts about them and at the end of this post I'll leave some artists who inspired me with their designs! :) Oh! And if you're interested, you can see more of my SONIC HUMAN AU by going to #Sonic-the-human on my blog! And you can also see more of my original post here! ~~~~~~ CLASSIC: SONIC, THE YOUNG HERO

When Sonic was younger, he used to wear lighter clothes and didn't care much about keeping up with his style;

His shoes wore out over time, even tearing;

His hair was originally wavy, but because he was always running and moving around, the wind ended up making his hair stand on end and back;

Amy and Sonic's hair is lighter, because their Classic forms have a lighter palette of quills than the Modern Era;

You can see this transition from light to dark hair!

Fun fact: Sonic always made the "Scratching His Nose" gesture to disguise certain emotions, usually related to boredom and embarrassment. This has remained with him until today!

When he was younger, he was a boy of few words. But that changed when he started having Tails as company on his adventures;

The Ring on his necklace is a valuable symbol to him, Sonic never takes it off for anything;

CLASSIC: AMY ROSE ROSY, THE LOVELY DREAMER

Bows have always been something that has been intertwined with Amy, along with hearts and… Lucky cards!

She was a young dreamer, an expert in fortune-telling. She met Sonic through the cards, followed him, was captured by his evil metallic copy and after being rescued in a long adventure between times… Amy could feel that the blue hero had messed with her;

At that time, Amy didn't have her Piko Piko Hammer yet, she only received it when she decided to go in search of the Blue Boy who had saved her;

Modern!Amy feels ashamed to remember her past self, both because she feels she was quite childish and because she is ashamed of her hairstyle at the time;

Although she is ashamed now, Sonic has always found her very pretty since that time - He just doesn't admit it;

Currently, Sonic teases Amy with the nickname "Rosy", he likes the reaction she has whenever she hears that name; CLASSIC: KNUCKLES, THE CHOSEN ONE BY THE MASTER EMERALD

From the beginning, Knuckles felt that he had a great responsibility in his life: Protecting the Master Emerald;

Despite being inexperienced and very young, he dedicated himself to training every day to improve his tactics and ensure the safety of the Emerald and the Island where he lived;

He ended up getting into some trouble during this period, until he was tricked by Dr. Eggman, causing Knuckles and Sonic to have their first contact in a… Hostile way;

Today, they are good friends, but they love competition and teasing;

Knuckles spent a lot of time alone since he was little, so for him, loneliness is already part of his routine;

Modern! Knuckles is a little more controlled in relation to his strong temperament, but in the past, he was a hot-headed and impulsive person;

Because his people have a connection with the Master Emerald, Knuckles ended up conceiving the power to be able to sense where it and its fragments might be. Something that says a lot about the connection he created with the emerald; CLASSIC: MILES "TAILS" PROWER, THE LITTLE YOUNG INVENTOR

Tails didn't have good mobility when he was little, he had a weakness and this was a reason for bullying by other children;

He invented his mechanical wings, as a way to help himself in his movement. Even though the other boys his age thought it was silly and made fun of him because of it;

When Sonic appeared on his Island, he was his salvation from the bullying situation, and curious about his hero's speed, Tails tried to follow him, it was then that he discovered that he could fly with the help of his own movement equipment;

He has been very inspired by Sonic since he was little, Tails discovered his vocation to create things thanks to the support that Sonic gave him;

His tied sweatshirt simulates the two tails… Despite this, Modern! Tails wears it, being his sweatshirt from his Classic Era; ~~~~~ MY INSPIRATIONS:

- @/Hallsth_eien

- @/Angie Nekoblue

- @/Lauren Ilustrated Thank you very much for reading! Sorry for the bad English <3

[storytellerslense]

JJ Maybank character analysis

How parentification shaped JJ's personality

Part 2

Victim role, low self-esteem and compulsive caregiving

Especially in the first season of Outer Banks there are moments where JJ is not fully respected by his friends, the Pogues, and he often accepts this dismissive treatment. For instance, his ideas are frequently brushed off, and he is called names like "dumbass," reinforcing his belief that he is not valued or taken seriously. JJ tolerates this treatment, likely due to his low self-esteem and his desperate need to maintain these relationships, as flawed as they may be.

Additionally, JJ voluntarily gets himself into situations where he simply can't win, exemplifying his compulsive caregiving and martyr complex. For example, he confronts a group of Kooks alone to defend his friends, even though he knows he is outnumbered and likely to lose the fight. This behavior underscores his willingness to sacrifice himself for the sake of others, even when it is detrimental to his own well-being. He also constantly highlights how the Kooks have the advantage, which, while often true, also shows how he puts himself in the victim role more than the other Pogues.

JJ's low self-esteem is most poignantly visible in his interactions with Kiara in Season 3 Episode 4.

JJ feels uncomfortable when Kiara is getting close to him

When Kiara confesses her love for him, JJ's immediate reaction is to dismiss it. Kiara tries to confront him again, reminding him of an affectionate moment on the boat where they almost kissed. But JJ shrugs her off, recollecting the moment as "just weird", later admitting that he has issues getting close to someone.

Considering that JJ probably had a lifelong experience with parentification, it has caused him to prioritize others' needs over his own, leading to poorly developed emotional boundaries and a lack of understanding of his own desires. Coupled with his low self-esteem from his abusive upbringing, JJ struggles to believe he deserves love and affection. So when faced with Kiara's romantic interest, he feels confused and uncomfortable, questioning his worthiness and feeling that someone as stable as Kiara couldn't genuinely want to be with him.

Another point is that the potential relationship with Kiara represents a significant change and requires vulnerability, which JJ finds unsettling due to his need to always be strong and in control. This internal conflict makes the near-kiss feel strange and out of place for him. When admitting to his feeling of unworthiness, describing it as "not even having a home or parents" Kiara offers him help, which he refuses, illustrating once again his difficulty in accepting care from others.

JJ's low self-esteem and compulsive caregiving are deeply rooted in his responsibility thrust upon him from a young age and the lack of nurturing from his father which led JJ to develop a skewed sense of self-worth, believing that his value lies in what he can do for others rather than who he is. However, this can also expose JJ to extreme stress and anxiety. This is notably seen when JJ and John B. encounter smugglers threatening Miss Lana at her house in Season 1, Episode 2.

JJ's decision not to help Miss Lana once the smugglers are gone can be attributed to a combination of emotional overload, psychological exhaustion, and his complex relationship with trust and authority.

Contrary to his usual impulsive and confrontational nature, JJ experiences an anxiety attack, urging John B. to leave rather than confront the danger. This reaction can be interpreted as a symptom of his chronic stress and trauma of having experienced his abusive father. The sound of someone being beaten and threatened might evoke a generalized trauma response, leading to anxiety and a desire to escape the situation. This reaction could be seen as a form of PTSD, where certain triggers cause an overwhelming urge to flee rather than fight.

******I am sorry. This time I had to hurry and I wanted to get this done before going on holiday tomorrow. Thanks you so much your support, for reposting and giving me thumbs up!!! I find JJ to be a very interesting character with surprisingly much depth for a series like Outer Banks, probably because he is portrayed most relatable and realistic. If you have any other suggestions and ideas on what to do next, let me know.******

[ficyorick]

hi. I have a question. In BE when Billy started to have a desire (or whatever you call it) for Homelander. before New York and he just didn't realize it (and he still barely realizes it), in the last chapter Homelander thinks exactly that way. or was it born during a close encounter when Homelander was in a cage and remained the only real being for Billy.

GOOD QUESTION and the answer is Complex bc this is a very psychologically dense fic (bc that's the way i like it 😭😭😭😭 i WISH i could just write for two ppl who are simply in love but NOOOO)

ill split the answer in two parts to make it easier for myself ghifgh so:

BILLY'S POV - he was not into homelander at all until he managed to depower him and keep him like a trophy. he still doesn't understand what he feels for him and its a very weird possessive feeling, HL is basically his property but also his responsibility, he made him this way and he is also the only person keeping him alive (it goes beyond just giving him food, he's also the only person keeping kessler from killing him as we've seen in ch8). at the same time, homelander is literally what keeps him sane, he is the only other human interaction he gets (or got...) while he's out there murdering supes. this makes them insanely co-dependent on each other in a very strange way. billy is not ready to admit that he loves him, but is aware that he needs him and that what he has gone too far at points. in general, their love for each other in this fic is mostly discussed in terms of ownership

does billy realize homelander feels the same kind of desire ?? thats an even trickier question but he does notice him get more manageable, while still being the old homelander that he wants to have just for himself (so he's not whipped into submission, he's giving himself over)

HOMELANDER'S POV -- he absolutely thinks billy is obsessed with him and had to have been for a while, because he's very self-centered. also this is the only thing that makes sense for him because he also views love in terms of ownership (i think this is a new thing for billy, but for HL is the most familiar thing in the world). if you look at the way he acts with maeve in the show, someone he admitted he loved "in his own way" -- what he does, is control her. scare her, crowd her in, literally manipulate her life by outing her. and he does that because he cares (and bc he's a shitty person but we all know this). so if billy does this to him, it means he cares and he cares an INSANE amount to blow up a whole fucking city and kill his father to get to this point. that's just how homelander views relationships - in terms of ownership and utility. he was in a relationship with madelyn because they were useful to each other and she basically owned him (and he let her). he was in a relationship with maeve bc he thought they could get each other to the top and have a family together.

in bad ending, he is in a completely different situation, he is no longer of any use to anyone without his powers, there's no point to his life anymore--but billy loves him that way, loves to see the weakness in him and he NEEDS him to stay sane. add in other issues and isolation (another huge point, all of this happens bc they're sooo isolated and only have each other+internal voices to listen to), and homelander is more than eager than to enter another transactional ownership-situationship. he put up a valiant fight, but this is all he knows in the end

a bit of a ramble and idk if i made things any clearer but tl;dr, they were obsessed with each other before new york, just not romantically/sexually, but everything after new york compounded it into something Really Toxic and Weird.

[sloshys]

HI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THERE ARE OTHER DAAN/O'SAA SHIPPERS OUT HERE????? PLEASE TELL ME ALL OF YOUR THOUGHTS IM FUCKING DESPERATE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BEGGING YOU

My little fucking guys

Im so fucking bad when it comes to writing hcs or character analysis. Im going to try it out but i hope someone who’s a writer and whos interested this pairing gets to explain it all better than i can.

Everything under the cut theres some talk about sex at the end but its brief

I want to preface this that despite the fact that im very much into shipping every time i enter a new fandom i dont think any termina characters were able to directly confess their feelings to eachother. They simply have too much going on in mind, too busy surviving or hardly trust eachother. Despite the amount of events happening, i think only 3 days is super short amount of time for these guys to truly be sure of their feelings for eachother and dont have time to think over it ( only Samarie truly makes sense to me cuz she knew Marina before that even if its one sided)

Their parallels

Both of them were doomed to grow up fast in order to survive because of political and religious circumstances that neither had control over. Daan lost his family because they were fervent Sylvian worshippers, and Osaa grew in the chaos of the religious wars ravaging his country (perhaps that's how he lost his father in the process, but that's just a theory). Also, their respective situations parallel each other as they focus on both the traces of the old gods Sylvian (Daan’s parents being bunnymask cultists) and Gro-goroth (war and chaos in Abyssonia). It doesn't mean anything in particular about the characters themselves, but these two old gods did complete each other.

They both had an advanced education with Daan being an apprentice butler and modern medicine while O’saa studied spirituality and religion.

During adulthood, they both went through unspeakable horrors. For Daan, it was war; he only managed to keep his sanity with the letters he exchanged with Elise. For O'saa, it was being haunted by nightmares and his exploration of the dungeon of fear and hunger. These events traumatised them, and they had their own ways to cope with them, but Daan is visibly depressed.

Both seem to have an interest in fashion as they are self conscious on the way they dress. (Daan hates dirtying his clothes and O’saa likes being complimented on them)

Oh so youre both men with two “a ” in your names

Interpretation and headcanons

-O'saa had several people unknowingly open up about their problems at the confessional booth. Daan, who was wandering alone in the church with his thoughts eating him up, decided to give it a go, even if he wasn't religious, even if no one would respond. Part of him felt like it was sort of therapeutic. But to his surprise, someone did respond on the other side of the booth. Daan’s interest perks up when he notices the lack of professionalism from what he would assume to be a priest. They were judgmental and cold, but also understanding and interested at the same time. The rational thoughts of someone who doesn’t follow a specific belief and has their own morals they want to stand by. Yeah nothing like a priest Daan also hears some sort of familiarity with the voice and slowly realises who owns it. Daan would start playfully answering questions until O’saa couldn't keep up his identity. Unlike the other participants, he doesn't come out of the booth laughing; it’s just Daan looking at him smugly while the yellow mage’s expression is between disappointment and irritation. But regardless, they did have a nice talk in there, not that either of them would admit it.

-tbh a lot of their relationship is a back and forth one of them making a joke, the other roll their eyes and they would reply with “why are you always so serious???”

-O’saa secretely likes making Daan laugh. He keeps telling himself because his humor is more of his taste but its mostly cuz Daan always looks so gloomy

-Actually, these two don't know how to express their emotions. Daan sees how distant O’saa is from everyone and kind of wants him to be able to settle in with the group. O'saa, who doesn’t like to show his sympathy, still tries to make Daan laugh at times because he seems worryingly miserable and sad (his own jokes tend to make him laugh more than Daan, however). They just try to cheer each other up in the most complex brain gymnastic game by poking fun and making bad jokes with the worst timing possible, which mostly confuses the both of them more than anything else.

- O’saa doesnt like Daan’s smoking and drinking habits. But he does admit that it gives him a certain charm and the drinks he makes for him

-When O’saa revealed the identity of the Sulfur god to Daan there was this sting of empathy he felt for him despite Nas’hara’s scolding. And didn’t want to reveal to much not just for the sake of forbidden otherworldly knowledge but to spare him from such heavy info when he’s already going though so much grief.

-Daan was, deep down, extremely grateful for O’saa sharing his knowledge. When they met later, he insisted on taking care of O'saa's wounds after he was shot by August’s arrows. But O’saa is always on guard and asks Daan to take his vest off while he holds on to it and his scalpel. He will grab the back of his neck, warning Daan that If he tries anything funny, he will deal him a fatal blow. Despite the fact that it was supposed to create tension, the two were never this physically close to each other before…

-Daan would notice O’saa fragrance and Osaa would notice Daan’s lipstick

-Now sex is a difficult topic. Something that forces them into a state they so desperately tried to avoid their whole lives. The feeling becoming undone by sharing something with someone special or showing vulnerability. A primal feeling, feeling alive. They had a quick fuck to release steam. They try to convince themselves that its for personal satisfaction or giving a helping hand but it ever hardly felt like that. They still had this connection they refused or couldn’t to share with spoken words. It never went too far, but it was never bad. Quite the contrary, the sex was good but always too short

-O’saa realised he had developped a worshipping kink because of Daan. But Daan noticed it much earlier.

[refriedrambles]

Pilot Dib genuinely seems to be a better inventor then Pilot Zim which I find very very interesting.

Also Pilot Zim is a weird little sweet heart. He's still a petty bitch (going to detention to get Dib in more trouble after Ms.Bitters told him to shut up), but he's complimenting Dib on his tech before they fight (with the "An arm mounted food launcher. Neat!") and on his hard work (following Dib saying he spent all night working on it, Zim immediate response is "Well, it shows."). It's very cute. AND Dib takes the compliment! I think that's probably more ego driven then anything else, but I don't think show Dib would have, instead thinking it's some new way to ridicule him, before thinking about it more. He certainly wouldn't have thanked Zim of all people for it. If anything season one Dib would try to put Zim down for it.

Pilot Dib seems more confident and attention seeking then show Dib which is honestly kinda impressive. Like he even seems bored by Zim mid fight. He's not even viewing Zim as a threat, just something that can used to prove himself to others.

Pilot Zim is much more incompetent, he's fumbling, he's sure that no one else suspects him while freaking people out much more then show Zim. We cut to him playing a video game in his free time and getting absolutely wrecked in it. He steals a kid's brain in the front row of the class, at least two desks over, and no one bats an eye. He, after basically admitting he's lost control of the situation (which show Zim would never), shouts about the invasion in the cafeteria DURING lunch. While a bunch of kids are stuck to him and very obviously able to hear him. It's enough to make Dib stop attacking to point it out to everyone (another point towards Dib being far more focused about proving himself right to others then having any thoughts that Zim is an actual threat). He admitted it in public which is why when Dib is still called crazy he cracks.

Pilot Dib is the one self sabotaging here, not Zim. He overloads his arm and that's what takes him out. Sure Zim overloaded his suit, but that's because his suit simply couldn't keep up. He was desperate, backed into a corner. Dib has completed control over the situation at this point and made it blow up in his own face.

Also interestingly aside from being focused on Zim, nothing else about Pilot Dib seems to point to a bigger interest in the paranormal. He's got more mad scientist vibes than anything else. Which looking at concept Dib makes sense.

Pilot Gaz is much more sassy. Seems amused by some of Dib's antics, but annoyed by his ranting. There's also room for the interpretation that she helped Zim out of the cafeteria after the bean thing cause she disappeared that same time he did and her smile faded when he fell to the ground and started twitching. Almost like she felt things went too far.

Pilot Gir is more competent. Zim immediately asks him for help and Gir does exactly what's needed to be done, immediately. Not much else to say there. His only thing is he's carrying a piggy around.

The utter indifference and obliviousness of the skool kids is so much more exaggerated here. Understandable why Pilot Dib would be much more touchy about being called crazy when it's far more blatantly obvious that he's right. The show has some really weird background humans that make Zim's skin condition excuse more plausible.

[acollapsar]

♞✧° ┊┊ PROMPTED // Selectively Accepting!

@yeonban asked: ❛ what are you smiling at? ❜ ronald's frown deepens at the sight & while he has gotten himself into quite the situation, he feels by far more irked at the demon seemingly sneering at him than the pickle at hand. another's aid would indeed speed up the process & spare him the trouble of putting in more effort than necessary, but there's no fellow shinigami in sight and the infuriating smirk on sebastian's face urges the blond to outright refuse to ask him for any help, no matter what the benefits of doing so might be. ❛ i don’t need your help. ❜ / is ronald having trouble taking on multiple (shared) enemies at once? or did he get caught in a trap he's struggling to get out of? who knows! he's freestyling

Clearly his amused grin had been too obvious to miss, and who could blame him, really? It was always such a joy to witness the struggles of one of their kind. While the demon very much preferred to participate in the action ( it did always give him a sense of adrenaline he could not get from anywhere else, after all ), it was difficult not to appreciate an opportunity in which his help was clearly needed, but was not asked for for whatever reason - and the fact that it was a shinigami out of all people only added to that joy.

Almost as if his own mind had been read ( or perhaps the grin upon his features was more telling than what he first thought ), it didn't take very long until his theory had been brought up. Despite the other's claims of not needing his assistance, he still seemed to struggle more than ever for each second that passed by. Of course, this did very little to erased the amused smirk still plastered across Sebastian's lips.

" My, my - lying will get you nowhere, " The tone of absolute amusement in his voice matched his expression as he simply continued to watch the blonde desperately attempting to fend off what appeared to be.... some rather frenetic sorts of Sebastian's own kind.

Despite the obvious and not-at-all secret rivalry between the shinigami and demons, Sebastian himself could at the very least say he's been fortunate enough to earn the description of 'not being that bad' for a demon, from one William T. Spears once upon a time. Naturally, an opinion from someone like him meant little to nothing to Sebastian, however - he had to admit that seeing the hungry and greedy savages of his own kind attempting to fight their way past the lone blonde did fill him with a sense of pride. A pride that told him that at least he's not like them. They're nothing more but low-lives praying on what in the ever becomes available to them, with no sense of self-control or dignity at all.

Needless to say, Sebastian very much preferred to keep his own distance from his own kind because of the sole reason to not be guilty by association. Not to mention he had no interest in accidentally exposing his own personal meal to another demon, lest they'd pick up the scent and attempt to take what is his. Still, even though his young master is safe and sound at the moment, he couldn't help but feel a small itch to put those gluttonous pests in their rightful place... The question was, however, would he prefer that over simply watching the shinigami fight for his own dignity?

" If my assistance is indeed not needed, then surely you don't mind me lingering about and observing your obvious struggle, do you? "

[seraphina-liora]

Why does a Narcissist leave someone that's good to them, supports them and has provided everything they can to them?

Narcissists often leave their good supply—even those who have been incredibly supportive and provided everything—because their behavior isn’t driven by gratitude, loyalty, or appreciation. Here’s why they might do this:

1. Boredom and the Need for Novelty: Narcissists get bored easily. Even the most perfect partner or situation can become stale to them because they constantly crave newness and excitement. Once they feel they’ve extracted all they can from someone, they start looking for new sources of validation and attention.

( My ex was always on the prowl for new supplys and fixes. When I couldn't give him what he needed, due to work or whatever may be going on in my life, he went walk about to find what he needed. He was always looking to get his ego stroked. )

2. Constant Search for Validation: They thrive on external validation and attention. If they sense that the admiration or attention is fading or becoming routine, they may seek someone new to provide that “rush” they initially felt.

( When his new supplys would stop validating his presence as being important, just as unbanning a member of a room to all entrance, by the room owners, his concern for the banned member was null and void and he would decide that the relationship with the owner of the room was not needed anymore, and would just walk away )

3. Power and Control: Narcissists often leave when they feel they no longer have the same level of control over their partner or when the dynamic shifts away from what benefits them. They may also leave to punish their partner or exert control by making them feel discarded.

( Just as leaving an area of chat because he is not so important anymore )

4. Fear of Exposure: If they feel their facade is slipping or that their manipulations are being recognized, they might leave before they’re fully exposed. They prefer to maintain their image rather than deal with accountability or confrontation.

( He would never lit up in chat when we were together, he didn't want anyone knowing what we were doing, he was always in fear of being found out, and always, told me that it was to "protect" me. )

5. Idealization-Devaluation-Discard Cycle: Narcissists often operate in a cycle where they initially idealize someone, then devalue them, and finally discard them. No matter how much you do for them, they’re always on this destructive cycle.

( When he couldn't devalue me he would pull in women to humiliate me for him, and at the end, he began using men, his male friends to dehumanize me )

6. Seeking Easier Targets: If they sense that their current partner is starting to see through their games or is no longer as easily manipulated, they might move on to someone who is less aware, easier to control, or simply gives them the new thrill they’re seeking.

( He would always go for the drunken, doped up, welfare moms of chat. They were easier targets, they were desperate and lonely, and didn't need much attention )

7. Self-Sabotage: Deep down, many narcissists struggle with self-worth and have a pattern of sabotaging their own happiness. They leave because they don’t believe they deserve the stability or goodness they’re receiving, though they would never admit it openly.

( He said this many times, " I don't deserve you Anna ", go find someone who would do better, he would disappear for days, weeks, and even months and if I did, he would be pissed, and bring in the flying monkeys saying I was cheating )

Ultimately, their actions aren’t about you or your worth but about their insatiable need for control, attention, and validation. They view relationships as transactional and, once they feel like they’ve exhausted the benefits, they often move on without remorse.

[anoseforrottenapples]

Up to this point, Mary had only ever spoken with Benjamin at Parent-Teacher conferences. Those were hardly the ideal setting to let her recognize and appreciate the man’s quirky sense of humor. In this more relaxed setting, that trait was being openly displayed. "Do I look like I don't take the art of taste-testing seriously? Mrs. Woodhull, I just so happen to take food -- and especially cakes -- very, very seriously. But if I may be so bold, your renown for dessert-making is infamous. I'll have to resist trying them myself. Heaven forbid we release a bunch of pre-sampled desserts into the wild." “That is rather bold.” She cheerfully responded, “While I am open to being famous for the desserts I make, I am not so sure I want to be infamous for them. There are connotations to that word, don’t you think?” Though Benjamin admitted that he would need to practice self-control, lest he sample too many desserts before the bake-sale even began, he willingly agreed to her rules regarding how her cakes should be handled. Even so, his surrender was accompanied by a rather painful slip of the tongue that left him scrambling to cover for himself. “Don’t worry over it,” she waved her hand dismissively, “Since I am neither a wife, nor a grandmother, I would never consider myself in either category.” Of course, her single status was rather new, just over a year old now, and she only stopped wearing her wedding band a few months earlier. After so many years with Abraham, tumultuous though they had been, it felt unnatural to consider herself a widow. She was still getting used to the title, and had to remind herself to check that box on forms that needed to know about her relationship status. She still instinctively wanted to check the ‘married’ box instead. Awkward in his jokes, Benjamin might have been, but he knew how and when he should trade his humor in for a serious ear. She had not expected him to actually listen to her when she assured him that she knew Thomas’s condition would improve. Instead, he did, and even offered a sympathetic view of the situation Thomas and she were navigating. In return for his kindness, she listened patiently as well.  As Benjamin admitted that he lost his brother, and then his mother, she dipped her head down slightly toward him. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother and your mother.” She offered what little condolence she could, given that the events in question had likely happened years earlier.

“And don’t worry, Mr. Tallmadge, your intentions were well-meant, and I do not resent them. It… it just grows wearisome to hear the same thing over and over again, when I know it is simply a period that Thomas needs to work through at his own pace. Unfortunately, many people consider his pace too slow, and they think they can help. I’ve had to grow very protective as a result.” Benjamin was equally gracious about accepting her boundaries for her son, as he had been toward her rules for handling the cakes. “I’m not worried about Thomas picking up your jokes.” Her smile was wane, but still managed to be amused. “He already has his Uncle Caleb, and that man’s jokes occasionally border on the obscene. He tries to reign himself in around Thomas but…” Mary shrugged slightly, “Things still slip out on occasion.” "You're a good mother, Mrs. Woodhull. And I'm not just saying that. I wish half of my students had parents who cared as much for their education as you do." A flush crawled up Mary’s cheeks, turning her ears a delicate shade of rose. “Thomas is all I have left.” She admitted softly. “If I do not take care of him, what else do I have?” Though sometimes she felt like she might be smothering the boy, rather than aiding him in any notable way. Perhaps it would do Thomas some good if she stepped away a bit, giving him room to breathe instead of constantly hovering over him. "Sure thing. My email is just my name with the school tacked on the end, and I'll let you put in your number here so that I can text you. If anyone asks, you can say we exchanged information so you could enact a restraining order to keep me from your cakes." Shaking her head at his ridiculous final joke, Mary extended her hand to accept the phone. “I doubt anyone will even notice or care, Mr. Tallmadge. I don’t think you’re that great a threat to my cakes… unless you actually enact that alarming idea about balancing them on your arms. Then you might become Public Enemy Number 1 in my eyes, which would be unfortunate. You’re one of the more likeable people around here… though, before your ego gets too large, bear in mind that the current company is the mothers from the PTA. In other environments, I might have to reassess that opinion.”

"What, were they that bad? I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of coming up with my own terrible quips -- no handbook necessary! And I'm not saying that to brag." Mary laughed a bit louder, drawing the attention of a few of the other PTA moms who were not used to hearing levity from the somber woman. “I’m not quite sure that admission is the victory that you seem to think it is, Mr. Tallmadge. Still, we all have to have something we need to aspire to, I suppose.” The man teasingly seemed to dig his hole deeper, but the twinkle grew in her eye. “Baking is both an art and a science, Mr. Tallmadge. Attempted by many, mastered by few. And the role of a taste tester is important too… how else will we ever know if we created something decent? Of course, you would have to be a critical taste tester if you wanted to help someone grow. You cannot just blindly agree that everything tastes wonderful.” Her request for assistance with the cakes brings a prompt, if somewhat misguided reply. "Well, I don't have six hands, but I did stack plenty of plates on my arms when I was a bus boy, In other words, I'm your man. Er...to help. If you're not quickly regretting that decision." “I’ll warn you now—each cake is a two-handed job. I do not want you even attempting to stack them on your arms, understand?” her warning was tempered with humor. “I made several of them, and I want to see them reach the sale in one piece—not be upended because you decided to show off your unique skills a bit too hastily.” As amusing as it was to discuss the cakes, and her desire to see them survive the trip from the kitchen, they could not avoid the more serious topic regarding her son. Having to dwell on Thomas’s unfortunate situation, Mary’s eyes darkened slightly, and she looked toward the floor for a moment. There had been so much loss in their family in the last year or so… Benjamin’s attempt at a light quip regarding the honorifics only prompted a small smile to cross her features for a few seconds before fading again. “It does have a nice ring to it… but do busboys ever really make it up to being knights?” "Change can be hard, and for a boy of Thomas' age, shutting down might be his own way of protecting himself. I wish I had all the answers, but as someone who's no stranger to grief, I hope it's not an overstep for me to say that all of this is normal. And with a boy as smart as your son, I'm sure he'll come around again...he just needs the right timing and patience."

“I know it’s normal, Mr. Tallmadge,” Mary sighed quietly. “I’ve had all the talks with the therapists, and doctors who assure me that it is just a phase, and he will outgrow it. That he will resume his normal activities in time. Still, that does not make it any easier for me to deal with right now. Your advice is well-intentioned, I know… but believe me, I’ve heard all of it before. Thomas will start behaving like a child again… I know this. It is just difficult to keep going until that time comes.” "I wish I could've done more. And if it isn't inappropriate for me to offer, maybe I could tutor him after school sometime? Or take him to the park? As someone who didn't have a mother growing up, I know how important a father's presence can be. I-I'm not saying I could be a fill-in, I just...it's been proven that children with a positive same sex relationship -- specifically, between a child and an adult -- can be very powerful and impactful in a positive way for their growth. But if you would rather I not intervene, then I won't say another word about it. I promise." If it had been any other man, Mary would have dismissed Benjamin’s offer without even thinking about it. However, Thomas had already formed a connection with this man, and had done well when he was in Benjamin’s class. There was also something inherently trustworthy about that man that subtly assured her he meant no ill will toward Thomas or herself. If he had been interested in twisting Thomas toward something horrible, she doubted he would choosen to have such a conversation here in full view of the whole bake sale team. “Thank you for that thought.” Mary inclined her head toward him. “I do think Thomas would benefit from having relationships with an uncle-type figure… but until I know you better, I do not want you going anywhere alone with Thomas. I think he would love to have you help him with his homework at the kitchen table though.” Mary set the boundaries carefully, intending to make sure they were ones she enforce easily. She might be open to the idea of his assistance, but she was no fool. She would accept Benjamin’s help on her terms, not in any other way. “I’ll talk to Thomas when I get home tonight, and see what he thinks of that idea. If you give me your telephone number or e-mail address, I will be able to reach out to you with his answer. And, if he is agreeable, we could plan something out between us. Does that sound reasonable, Mr. Tallmadge?”

[imagineyourworld]

The Wife

Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader

Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off

Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out

Check out my other work here

-------

You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.

“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.

You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.

“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”

Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.

“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”

Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.

“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”

You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.

“I am not married, though”, you finally said.

“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered. 

Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.

“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued. 

For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander. 

“Only if that’s what you want, of course.” 

You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do. 

Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.” 

-------

-------

Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind. 

“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.” 

Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect. 

“Of course, General. What is it?” 

“I want you to be married to (Y/N).” 

It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show. 

“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out. 

“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him. 

Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo. 

“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him. 

“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.” 

Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say. 

“That makes sense”, he finally said. 

Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier. 

“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers. 

-------

By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan. 

“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested. 

You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings. 

“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.” 

The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead. 

“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time. 

You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager. 

“Will do, Commander.” 

Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front. 

“What’s gotten into your husband?”

You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin. 

“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him. 

“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile. 

Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation. 

“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself. 

-------

Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked. 

It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee. 

The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human. 

“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”

The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit. 

“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?” 

The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you. 

“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.” 

Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down. 

“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.” 

Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety. 

“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.” 

His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private. 

It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips. 

“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.” 

The Gonchee at the front nodded. 

“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour. 

-------

Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called. 

“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled. 

You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did. 

“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.” 

You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way. 

“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.” 

You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous. 

“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.” 

You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit. 

“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.” 

He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely. 

“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.” 

Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry. 

“Sounds reasonable.” 

Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.

The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe. 

“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless. 

“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.” 

You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”. 

“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable. 

The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately. 

-------

True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself. 

You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire. 

As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature. 

The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up. 

“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”

Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better. 

It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now. 

Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin. 

“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.” 

The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed. 

With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his. 

“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position. 

“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked. 

For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again. 

“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that. 

“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. 

Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress? 

“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.” 

A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men. 

“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge. 

“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting? 

From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation. 

“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?” 

The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. 

“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.” 

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint. 

“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”. 

Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent. 

-------

Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up. 

“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.” 

The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi. 

“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way” 

You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him. 

A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.” 

The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned. 

The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table. 

“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but. 

Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you. 

“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.” 

Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second. 

But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee. 

“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more. 

You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...

“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?” 

If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur! 

“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.” 

It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend. 

The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe. 

“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”

And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone. 

As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you. 

“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.” 

His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest. 

“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.” 

He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again. 

“There’s only one bed.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself. 

“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?” 

You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed. 

“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.” 

The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.

“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.” 

As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him. 

-------

“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover. 

Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state. 

“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence. 

Now he had no choice but to answer. 

“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends. 

“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.” 

Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say. 

“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued. 

For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible. 

“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded. 

From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe. 

It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso. 

“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe. 

Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process. 

Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night. 

-------

The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee. 

You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious. 

“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.  

“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered. 

“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain. 

You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds. 

“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face. 

“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away? 

“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him. 

“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think  about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe. 

“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone. 

You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard. 

“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care. 

All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress. 

You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together. 

It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision. 

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“What does it look like? I’m changing.” 

You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him. 

“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?” 

This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless. 

“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.” 

By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened. 

“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.” 

It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again. 

“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to. 

“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!” 

The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.   

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours. 

Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream. 

Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did. 

You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder. 

“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.

All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours. 

“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted. 

As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes. 

“What is it, mesh’la?” 

For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him. 

“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously. 

A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth. 

“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.” 

The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face. 

“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one. 

Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder. 

“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?” 

You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head. 

“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.” 

Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist. 

“I think they already believe us, cyare.” 

-------

It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut. 

Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while. 

“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper. 

Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled. 

“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.” 

He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then. 

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.” 

Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all. 

I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it. 

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

[tomatograter]

Do you think Dirk saying that he doesn't like to label himself as gay means he has internalized homophobia? Or does he really just don't like to put labels on himself? I've seen ppl saying it's homophobia but there's ppl in real life that don't feel comfortable with labels so I'm a bit confused honestly, cus we are talking about Dirk and he's... Dirk after all

Easy answer: Dirk is Gay.

Prolonged answer: I think it's kinda weird how some fandom discussion around "Dirk dodging the label in One pesterlog" has largely spiraled way outside of its original context to be talked about in a vacuum, especially when that context is crucial to understanding what is actually being said, AKA — it belongs to a deeply awkward conversation between Dirk and Roxy. One of Many they are implied to have had about the subject of Roxy's sustained, unwelcome, and oft drunken advances towards Dirk (& his splinters).

I'm going to reproduce it plus another bit of text down below, for the sake of comparison.

(To prevent the trickster text from looking like absolute shit, I have altered the background. Read the original here, if you're nasty: https://www.homestuck.com/story/5754 )

Now that we've been reacquainted with how and where that sentiment is expressed, let's try to break down what Dirk is doing here.

He is not receptive to Roxy's early advances, and spends most of the 'intro' for this conversation (not pictured) ignoring when Roxy flirts with him, until she gets upset at how 'boring' he is being right now.

Dirk is the one compelled to apologize.

He proceeds to shut the scenario down as an unwanted probability, eliciting further guilt-babbling from Roxy over how Dirk never wants to play along with the perfect traditional family fantasy, until she finally blows up and says it's because he's gay.

"I mean, yeah, that's what I thought."

Dirk, rather than saying I Am Not Gay, since he looooooves changing a conversational subject, claims that "Gay" is not entirely historically appropriate for this situation, given the non-negligible passage of time and the wildly dystopic circumstances* they find themselves in.

Dirk reassures Roxy he does still care about her.

Dirk is absolutely terrified of a similarly inclined (and intoxicated) Roxy up close. This is the most exclamations he's ever used.

Now, *These circumstances? The loss of 99% of the human race, including their society, customs, culture, and prejudices. (ALLEGEDLY.) It's important to remember that from Dirk and Roxy's side of the timetable, troll culture has been pushed as "the norm" for actual fucking centuries. HIC tried to recreate the caste system by artificially coloring human blood, leading to the death of billions. Faygo came out of the water tap, not water. Troll slang was incorporated into the English language. Humans ceased to organically reproduce. They were actively Discouraged from reproducing, since that's not something HIC could have total genetic control over; rendering traditional marriage and the concept of the nuclear family pointless.

You could also argue that same-gender relationships are not uncommon in Alternia, making "gay" altogether unnecessary by proxy, and that's true! But my point is this one: any union (or at least our society's holy concept of it) between straightie humans would be by definition undesirable under HIC's rule, too. She is the church, the president and the governing body. The population is only as good as they are assets for her to do whatever she wants with, including mass murder.

But wait! While that tracks… Roxy clearly still holds onto very 'conservative' definitions of romance for most of Homestuck. We see this multiple times. Dirk, as proved in conversations with Jake, uses 'gay' as an ironic pejorative. Suddenly it's not Historically Inaccurate anymore, Jake's interests are just gay.

Does this mean the context above is basically worthless, since they don't seem to have internalized it? No.

What must be kept in mind is this: Dirk and Roxy's only "active" link to de facto humanity is our society as it was in the early 2010's. Those glimpses they get by talking with jane and jake. They have all that dystopic context, yes, but the reality that seems the most "unfucked" to them for a grand majority of their lives are the halcyon years before the Condesce's rise to power: back when weed was illegal, BlogSpot was popular, movies sucked, MTV was still a hip channel, and gay generally meant something real bad. The wave of homophobia as a punchline or fear mongering tactic was at THE HEIGHTS. Marriage equality was a hot debate topic. Those were the dayz.

Dirk is keenly aware of the taboo implication the word "Gay" as a self-denomination carries. He's no dummy. But he's rarely direct with his intentions either. He's slippery as a bar of soap. (He's never "straight about his feelings", if you prefer.) And for a guy that cares so much about his reputation and maintaining a curated sense of utter coolness, he wants to avoid outing himself as any sort of weirdo no matter the cost.

But that's not all. I think the gravity of just how much Dirk believes he *owes* Roxy simply for existing as the last human in the same timeframe as her is a severely underplayed aspect of Dirk's core character, together with how much he tries to avoid her sexual advances only to end up feeling like absolute shit over it, because — if they truly are the last people on god's blighted earth, isn't he being "selfish" and "irrational" about not feeling shit for Roxy, in the grand scale of things? Is Roxy not his only friend in tangible reality, even if he avoids the mere suggestion of visiting her? Even if she gets black-out drunk and tries to push him into indulging her, regardless of how many times he's already said no?

(Spend enough time here and you realize how it directly mirrors the jane/jake experience.)

Dirk cares a lot about each and every one of his friends.

He pointedly adapts his speech based on whichever one of them he's talking to in an effort to express that investment. May it be reassuring Jane, fooling around with Jake, or trying to prevent Roxy from falling into a total catatonic doom-spiral; he avoids telling them anything that would be too crushing to hear. That's not what he's trying to do here. Not to say that he isn't bitchy sometimes, but that’s far from the central thing he does. The Epilogues have retroactively led people to believe that Dirk abhors and despises every single person he's ever been close to before (god forbid) LIKING them, and I think buying too much into that assumption ignores the foundations of his canon text, as well as the central motivation behind 99% of his actions in the story. This is the guy that grew up on Friendship Is Magic, has a picture of rainbow dash shamefully glued to one wall and a rainbow poster of Jake's symbol stapled to another, and everything he does is a little cringe attempt to demonstrate his worth by showing how much he cares about people, even when he's punching his actual feelings down instead of up and saying them.

Which brings us back to the load-bearing part of this question: Admitting to Roxy that there is absolutely no fucking way he will ever agree to having her babbys because he is gay is precisely the opposite of what Dirk wants to say, if his intention isn't pulverizing her. So he doesn't. And his worry on this regard is such that it prevents Dirk from even telling Roxy that he does love her, in the platonic sense, as a friend and hell-earth survivor, because he knows that specificity is what that would disappoint her greatly. (He only ever confesses this to Jane, on the death slabs.)

But also I think this is a really funny visual of Dirk's relationship with the word gay, to put statements into perspective:

[imaginesfora3]

If you're ask box is still open for those prompts, could you do 20 or 21 for Azami? Thank you so much!!! ♥

Izumida Azami: 

“You said you didn’t have feelings for me.”

The silence that followed was more painful than the harsh words he had said to you only a week before; you had wanted him to deny it, to say he had just said that because he didn’t want to admit to them. But from how things were appearing, it really did seem like Azami was trying to let you down easy and you had simply pushed him too far, not picking up on the hints he was giving out. It made you feel even worse for putting him in this situation in the first place, knowing how hard it must be for him to be direct with his feelings when he had tried to hide the truth from you from the start.

“It’s okay, Azami. I get it.” He’s still not talking, still not responding, and you were losing the will to continue this conversation. You had asked to see him, and he had agreed, you had thought that might mean something but… You were met with silence. A brick wall. Not a single clue on how Azami was feeling, his expression as blank as his emotions. “I’m, uh, just gonna go?”

And you do go.

And he doesn’t stop you.

You’re curled up in bed at home, tear-stained cheeks leading to a tear-stained pillow, when your phone lit up the darkened room. You don’t have the energy to answer anyone right now, leaving it be, trying to think about anything other than your crushing defeat. You had wished you just kept your mouth shut, you wished you’d done a million different things differently but, in the end, there was no way to go back in time. You were stuck trying to imagine a world where you could still be friends with Azami, knowing that you could never quite return to what you once had with him, not now. There were plenty of fish in the sea but you likened Azami to a shark, so beautiful when looked at from afar but dangerous up close and personal.

He would’ve laughed if you heard him compare him to a shark, telling you it was stupid, that he was nothing like a shark (and since you couldn’t wear makeup underwater, it would be a miserable life for him).

The light in your room was a little more incessant than it should be and with a frustrated groan you grabbed your phone, scrolling through the long list of texts from worried friends. You considered responding but it took too much energy to type out what happened, to explain to them your emotions, it was easier to just… not. You nearly missed his text because your attention span was waning but it was sent hours before, an hour after you had met up with him.

‘I’m sorry.’

Like that made it better?! Like his apology was what you wanted?! You couldn’t get the response you wanted which made you feel even angrier, even stupider, and you have half a mind to toss your phone across the room so you don’t have to look at it anymore. It wasn’t his fault, the rational part of your brain accepted that you couldn’t manipulate someone’s feelings and make them love you, you wouldn’t want that anyway. But how were you supposed to come to terms with it? The humiliation, the guilt, the sadness, the defeat.

‘Thanks’

You erased it.

‘Why would you bother messaging me now?’

You erased that message too.

You really didn’t have much to say to him, not words that he deserved to hear, anyway. You wanted to hurt him like he had hurt you but it wouldn’t be fair, it was taking all the self-control you had now to hold back your venomous words. You finally decided to not respond, to put your phone on silent and turn over in your bed to continue the pity party until you had worked out more of your emotions. As much as it killed you and as much as you wanted to talk to him, nothing good would come out of texting.

You didn’t feel good enough to go to school the next day and told your mother as such; sensing it was a situation that she should wait for you to approach her on she nodded, saying you were absolutely going tomorrow and leaving it at that. A day alone worked well for you, the ability to watch whatever movie you want and listen to music as loud as you needed to. You were already feeling better even if there was a painful stabbing in your chest when you imagined Azami’s face, knowing it would be like that for quite a while. But you didn’t feel as terrible, as anxious or worked up, so it was better.

It was hard to leave your phone alone but looking at it would do no good, plus, you still weren’t in the mood to talk. You trailed around the apartment doing chores for your mom, a subtle little thank you for her allowing you to stay home without questioning it. You’re still in the zone, spaced out, in imagination land where life is a little easier and much happier when there’s knocking on your door. At first you think it’s your mom but realize there’d be no reason to knock, then you assume a friend but with a quick glance at the clock, you see that school wasn’t over yet.

So, who the hell was it?

You can’t explain how surprised you are to see Azami on the other side of the door, red-faced and panting like he’d just run a marathon. You considered not opening it but when he pounded on the door again, you felt like it was probably best to just… get whatever was about to happen over with. You opened the door and the look of relief is instantaneous, you moving out of the way and motioning for Azami to come inside. He wasn’t exactly supposed to be here, both by your own parents’ rule and the fact he was surely supposed to be in school right now.

“Why are you here?”

“You haven’t responded to anyone since yesterday!” Azami is back to being irritated, his glare quite icy; you had never been on the receiving end of it but you could see why the people at school were afraid of him, “What are you thinking?! What if- I thought something happened to you! On the way back from…”

So, Azami had gone around school questioning others about you when you hadn’t responded to him? How out of character, or at least you thought so. He seemed to let most things be but it didn’t look like this was how he felt today, felt about you, because he had even broken the rules by leaving which would surely land him in hot water. You weren’t sure how to take this information, you didn’t want to fill yourself with false hope because you knew Azami wasn’t a terrible person. Him showing you any sort of care didn’t mean he returned your feelings, especially not after that display yesterday.

“I didn’t really… Feel like talking. I haven’t charged or looked at it all day.”

“Well…!” Azami doesn’t have anything else to say about it, you know he can’t exactly fault you for wanting to be left alone, but it’s still frustrating. “I wanted to talk.”

“I think we’ve done enough of that, Azami. We should just… leave it be, you know?”

“…I can’t. I didn’t know how to explain myself, how to explain that I just…” Azami is frustrated, he hated dealing with his feelings when he was younger and he hated dealing with them now just as much, “I have feelings for you. I wanted them to come out in a better way than at school, in front of your friends. I didn’t want them speaking for you.”

“They weren’t… Well, I guess I can see why you’d think that but they weren’t. Those were… my own words, things I’ve said to them, they were probably just sick of me saying it to them and not to you…” Your brain short-circuited after you did a full review of what he just said to you, cutting you off mid-way through your thoughts. “I. Uh. What?”

Azami’s face is bright red, unable to meet your eye now that you’ve put him back on the spot.

“I have…feelings for you, okay?! Don’t make me say it again it’s…” It’s so goddamn embarrassing but it’s a better feeling than knowing he had let you down, knowing he had lied about something that was important. He was old-fashioned, likely due to who he was raised by, and he wanted things to be better. He wanted to actually court you, wanted to confess to you himself, wanted to do it all properly.

“I… I think we do have to talk more. About this and uh, uh, us? B-but my mom is probably gonna be home soon and I don’t think she’d be happy that we’re in here alone.”

“W-We’re alone?!” Azami looked like he might faint, looking around the apartment. “I… I have to apologize to your mom. For being here without permission. For being alone… with you…”

“I think we should not tell her I had a boy alone with me in our house, actually!” You placed your hands on his chest and started to push him backwards, something that seemed to make him turn even redder than he already was. “Go! Go back to school or… Somewhere else! And call me later.”

“I want to talk in person. I don’t want things to get confused again, like they did before.”

“O-okay, we can meet up somewhere later then.”

Azami nodded, whipping around and leaving your house as quickly as he could, nervously glancing around like he was some type of criminal.

You really hoped your neighbors weren’t being nosy today, you couldn’t handle being grounded when things were finally going in your favor.

[keigelsss]

A Super Sweet Secret - Gojo Satoru

Merry late Christmas ya filthy animals ;)

Mega thirst moment based on this post and I think it just fits this fucker so well. I wrote part of this at 3am and I hate it so much ... fellow Gojo fuckers come get ya food.

Warnings: 18+, my shitty writing, language, mentions of alcohol, Gojo using infinity (had to do it on em), smut, DIRTY TALK, fingering, oral *fem receiving, overstim, squirting, uh… the pet names are super self-indulgent too oops, literally every grammatical error you can think of (please let me know if I missed any warnings I don’t wanna upset anyone or make anyone uncomfy. That being said minors pls DNI!! I don't feel like blocking anyone today)

Word count: 2.25k (i do be getting carried away)

How do you go about explaining your current situation to the higher-ups if you get caught with him? Do you tell them that, instead of getting pointers on how to guide students down the right path, you’ve been indulging in some very explicit acts with the man who is supposed to show you the ropes? No. That’s not right either but in all honesty, it would have been a lost cause from the get-go. Gojo Satoru is the least traditional in his teaching methods and is without a doubt a troublemaker but his antics are a part of what makes him so charming. It’s that same charm that finally made you cave and accept a coffee date with him on the next day you both had off. 

You don’t know exactly when it happened but little by little those morning coffee dates turned into mid-day snack runs, then dinner and overindulging in desserts at the other’s house. Everything took an unexpected turn when you went a bit overboard on the sake one night. The next morning you woke up naked on your couch, the sun in your face, a pounding headache and a large man clinging to your body like a koala. As much as you wanted to maintain a professional relationship between the two of you, it was so hard to not crave another taste of him. He couldn’t resist you either, one bite and he kept coming back for more. 

You two are definitely going to get into some serious trouble for this.

After stressful days of exorcising curses Gojo likes to unwind with a sweet treat from his local bakery and you by his side. He’ll find it ridiculously adorable if you have a bigger sweet tooth than he does. On the walk back to his house, you both snag a pastry from the bag of goodies and laugh at the other for not being able to wait until you reached your destination. The two of you arrive shortly after but Gojo decided he wasn’t entirely satisfied...

“Hey, sugar?” he asked while removing his sunglasses, his eyes entirely focused on your movements. You started to place what was left of the little cakes in a dish that was used specifically for the sweet treats of the day, he quickly recalled how you made fun of him for the fancy crystal platter but he admitted to being a bit extra like that. “What’s up trouble?” He let out a soft chuckle and got closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders leaning down to rest his chin on top of your head. “Trouble? That couldn’t be me.” you placed the cover back on the platter and put your hands on his arms settling back into him slightly. “You only call me ‘sugar’ when you want something from me, so what is it?” 

Now that was true, he had a list of pet names for you that he liked to pull out for certain occasions and you caught onto that quickly. It’s really not fair at all how he can make innocent words sound so damn sinful when he wanted to tease you. You turned to face him now, his hands resting on either side of you. He leans down and places a feather-soft kiss on your lips, so soft it’s almost like he’s not making full contact with you.

“I thought we didn't do those things when it was just us together like this?” Your eyes fluttered open and he came back in for a real kiss, his hot tongue lingering lazily on your bottom lip but not enough to excite you. He does that on purpose. “I know but it’s just the thought of it, I can tell you're thinking about it too.” He reached for the dessert dish and picked up a small cream filled pastry, he took a bite and offered you the other half. You knew it wasn’t an accident when he got the filling on your lip and chin. He used his thumb to clean up the mess he made then licked it clean, he is actually evil but even if you do hate him sometimes you can’t find it in you to resist him. 

“C’mon Y/n, don't you think it would be interesting to try while I go down on you? Just a little bit?” You bit your lip at the thought and he was already excited for your answer. He was right, the idea of him between your legs, devouring you but not quite. Being able to feel everything between the two of you but not making an actual connection. it ignited a small fire within you. 

“We can try it once but I can’t promise that I'll like it.” 

Truthfully that was all he needed to hear before he began to strip you of your clothes, leaving you completely naked. His large hands began exploring your body, grabbing onto any dip and curve he can find while placing sloppy kisses on your neck. He used both hands to get a firm grip of your ass, lifting you onto the cold marble countertop, you let a small moan escape you at the feeling and he placed a wet kiss on your lips. Tugging on the fabric of his long sleeve you brought it up and off revealing his defined upper body, you could drool if you didn't have some self control. “Satoru not too much okay? It’ll drive me crazy when all I want is to feel you.” The whimper that fell from your pretty mouth was almost enough to make Gojo cum in his pants, you swore you saw hearts glowing in his bright blue eyes. “Don't worry princess only a little bit. Besides you know my sweet girl always gets what she wants.” 

If there was anything that came close to what you picture heaven was like, it would definitely be the equivalent to Gojo’s strong, slender fingers expertly rubbing your folds. He always found every sweet spot and applied the perfect amount of pressure without you having to say a word. 

“Baby, did I make you this wet?” He used his thumb to spread your slick around, creating a delightful rhythm on your clit. Hips trembling when he grazed that one spot that practically had you gushing for him.

“Yes! It was yo- oh fuck that feels so good!” you leaned forward, resting your head on his chest, admiring the way his fingers looked so mesmerizing covered in the pretty shine of your juices. “You know you're the sweetest thing ever right? So damn delicious. I can spend hours between these sexy thighs of yours.” His breath is hot on the tip of your ear and that smooth voice sends shockwaves throughout your entire body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh and gripped below your knee, shifting the angle at which his fingers were exploring your overly sensitive hole. 

“Are you gonna let me make you cum with my mouth? Let me taste how sweet you are?” his lips started to trail the sides of your neck down to your chest. He left a series of kisses on each breast, sucking lightly on your stiff and sensitive nipples. “Ah Satoru please! I want- Ooh want your tongue.”  He licked a stripe across your tummy then placed a soft kiss on your belly button, he moved your thighs once more and found a position comfortable for the two of you. Your legs resting nicely on his shoulders while he rubbed circles on your hips and waist. “Look at this gorgeous pussy,” a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “So pretty.” another kiss on your swollen clit, you couldn't help but arch your back off the counter, grabbing a handful of his soft hair. He nibbled on your thigh and a sharp whine fell from you. “Remember to behave sweetheart, I'm supposed to be going easy on you.” His chuckle vibrated against your hot mound and you let out a sigh, releasing some tension from your hands on his head, allowing him to do what he wanted with your body. 

Gojo’s tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, curling and sucking at the special spot that only he knew about with perfect accuracy. The buzzing sensation that you normally felt when he's down there was reduced to an incomplete static, like your nerves weren’t fully receiving the information of his movements. Now that? That was different. It really was infinity… a barrier he controlled entirely, the rolling of his tongue feeling more like a whisper of pleasure that was everything and nothing at the same time. You were right to think it would drive you crazy but in the most euphoric way possible. “Oh my god it feels s-so good! P-please don’t stop baby I’m so fucking close.” 

The large kitchen was filled with desperate sounds of pleasure and the soft squelching of Gojo’s fingers inside your quivering cunt. This feeling was new but you were instantly hooked. It didn't take long for you to fall over that glorious edge with a broken moan of his name and a string of curses, making little to no sense at all. A deep groan erupts from his chest as he takes in every drop of your release in satisfaction. His gaze found your blissed out expression and he decided to ease up on that invisible veil between you, fingers slipping from your tight whole. You clenched around nothing and the loss of his fingers filling you was enough to nearly make you cry. 

“That‘s my favorite flavor right there sweetheart.” he spent some time admiring the way you looked coming down from your high. The rise and fall of your breasts with every breath paired alongside the slight shaking in your limbs from how intense the orgasm was. You're a work of art to him, truly, especially like this. Opening your eyes you find his stupid gorgeous face resting on your thigh, licking his lips simply enjoying your taste. You ran your fingers through his hair one more time before softly squishing his face with your legs, letting out a breathless giggle while regaining some grasp on reality. “I w-want more, but let me feel all of you for fucks sake!” 

He instantly obliged, diving right back in, using only his tongue, setting a languid pace. His animalistic groans against your over sensitive pussy were a telling sign that he was enjoying himself, probably ridiculously hard in the confines of his jeans. The thought of his cock deep inside of you was enough to get you shamelessly turned on all over again. If it weren't for his hands on your hips, rubbing easing circles into your soft skin, you would be a convulsing mess on the hard marble beneath you. A dull ache was beginning to form in your lower back, but you could care less. Gojo's tongue was working wonders on that delectable bundle of nerves of yours. His hands started trailing upwards and fondling your breasts, your spine arching under his touch as he pinched your nipples. You both made eye contact and he could tell that you were close to another release, your entire body was starting to shake. “Ye-yeah baby I’m gonna f-fucking cum.” his tongue never relenting on you. You were on the verge of screaming, your thighs were probably strangling him at this point.

“Mhm my little honeypot. Are you gonna make a mess?” he growled delicately against you.

That was also new but holy shit it had your brain short circuiting. Honeypot?! Damn you really could make a mess and that was exactly what you did. His relentless attack on your clit was blinding but so fucking delicious you didn't want it to end. You squirted all over his face, covering his neck and chest with a stream of your juices. The added stimulation of his abilities, and the shock of this new pet name clearly having an impact on your intense orgasm. it could possibly be the best you've experienced. He was aware of that fact as well. “I love when you do that.” honestly you did too. The aftershock of it all had you both mesmerized, your body just a quaking mess, panting and moaning. You struggled a bit to get air back into your lungs but Gojo's hands squeezed on your waist reassuringly. Your hips were beginning to relax and he once again found a place to momentarily rest his head on your thighs. 

He huffed a small howl of amusement. You could instantly tell what he was so giddy about. “So? Honeypot?” you questioned him, not in a judging manner but out of curiosity and excitement. “It kind of just came out of me in the moment.” You couldn't help but laugh at his answer, a fitting response. You took a second to relish in the sight of your cum and his sweat tracing his brow. It will forever remain a mystery on how you managed to get so addicted to the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but here you were. 

That evil little smirk made another appearance on his face while he brought himself up to  kiss you, the taste of yourself was very much present on his tongue and soft lips, you screeched in excitement. He swiftly lifted you off the counter and began his trek towards his bedroom. 

“Are you maybe just a bit more curious on what else I can do to that pretty body of yours?”

yeah this is trash uh if you read this sorry for the lack of seasoning in your food

tags: @bobabybo @ibukiirisha

[buckyownsmylife]

woman’s world - chris evans smut

The one where Chris pisses you off during a panel, but then finds a way to apologize

Warnings: age gap, famous!reader, oblivious Chris, smut, unprotected sex

Chris’ P.O.V.

The panel had gone well, or as well as it could go when everyone was trying to push the idea of Y/N and I together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to pursue something with her - quite the opposite in fact. I was completely infatuated with the young actress, but the problem was just that: she was young. Too young for me, probably. So it was becoming harder and harder to deal with everyone commenting on how great we would be together when it was already all I could think about, and there was nothing I could do to make it come true without looking like an absolute predator.

Still, there was no denying that my favorite part about this particular press tour had been getting to spend time with her. She was just the perfect company, especially in a situation like this, which frankly could easily become tiresome and irritating. She just had this way of being able to read me and know what I needed, so she’d easily take over when she noticed an interviewer was getting on my nerves or overstepping some boundaries. 

She was quickly becoming my favorite person, but unfortunately, the rest of our cast had noticed as much. And so that meant that for the last day or so, I’d forced myself to pull away from her, deliberately sitting as far away as possible and not even glancing her way whenever there was a camera around. I even managed to have a quick reaction when the panel moderator joked about us being the perfect couple, and I was proud of how my cry of “She’s a kid, for God’s sake!” had made everyone laugh, even my friends who had been keen on insisting I should ask her out. 

So needless to say, I was in a good mood. Such a great mood, in fact, that I’d decided to ask Y/N to come back to my room so we could grab a beer and watch some movies. Asking around for where she had gone, someone pointed in the direction I thought I’d seen her head to, and after a couple of seconds, I managed to see her in the middle of the sea of people. Then it was just a matter of smoothly dodging everyone trying to lure me into pointless conversations and then she was already within ear reach. 

Or so I thought, at least. I tried calling her name countless times, but she didn’t look back once. In fact, she even quickened her step, and soon enough I had to physically run so I could follow her into the elevator that could take us to the floor where we were staying. 

I didn’t think too much of it, considering she probably thought I was someone else and was doing the same as I was: trying to dodge anyone who wanted to make us stay a bit longer on the crowded floor where the convention was taking place. But then we were inside the elevator and she didn’t even turn to look me in the eye. 

More importantly, when I reached out to rub my thumb on her wrist, to signal that I wanted to hold her hand, the response I got was a harsh, “Is this your way of subtly hinting that you want to hold my hand? Because it’s quite cute, but I’m not in the mood for that at all.”

The attitude caught me by surprise in such a way that I was only able to snap out of it once the elevator’s doors opened, but before I could ask what the fuck was going on, she had ran out of it, walking towards her room with determination.

Oh no, she wouldn’t. There was no way I was letting her hide in her room, angry at me, when I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. I sprung into action, running after her and managing to hold the door just before she was able to slam it in my face.

“What’s going on?” I cried out, pushing my way inside the room as she just stared up at me with hurt eyes and a pout on her lips. “What did I do?” Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms while looking away from me, before I managed to pull her closer by her wrists when I pried her arms open again. “Talk to me, c’mon.”

She glanced at me with furrowed brows, quickly averting her eyes before looking back again with an unamused expression. “You’re really gonna act like you don’t know.” Anxiety coursed through my veins at a scary pace. It was clear that I’d hurt her, but I had no idea how!

“I really don’t know!” I cried out, begging her to answer me, so I could make this better. I couldn’t bear the thought of offending her, of possibly losing her… and her friendship. Since that was all I could get from her, I was gonna fight with everything to keep it. “Please, let me make it up to you.”

For a second, it seemed like she would relent. But when her eyes met mine again, it was clear that whatever she saw on mine reminded her of the reason that she was mad, because just when I started to smile, she caught a second wind, pulling her hands from me and turning her back. 

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant about making me feel better. I thought I was just a kid to you.” And then, suddenly, it made sense. Flashes of what had happened not even an hour earlier played in my head, this time her face being the focus of it all. Perhaps it wasn’t perceptible for everyone else that her smile faltered when I shouted that idiotic thing, but to me it was.

To me it was, and still, back then, I didn’t see it. I chose not to see it, because I was so scared to deal with the truth. Instead, I ended up hurting her. And that was literally the last thing that I wanted. 

“I-I’m sorry,” I immediately offered, raising a hand to scratch the back of my neck. “I just… I didn’t want them to start creating any narratives about us two together, you know? I mean… You know how they can get. And I can’t be… We can’t be... associated… like that.”

I knew I had screwed up even before it became clear that she wouldn’t answer. Despite how cautiously I’d tried to phrase it, it ended up sounding weird even to my own ears. And when she didn’t turn around to look me in the eye again, I didn’t know what else to do. I felt myself deflating, my heart beating desperately against my chest, terrified of losing her simply for being my stupid self.

“C’mon… You know what I mean,” I breathed out, trying to approach her and resting a hand on one of her shoulders, but she simply shook it off. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t be like that.” I made myself flinch with just how poorly I was handling that situation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know what to do or say. Don’t be like what? “Like a child?” I asked, my tone icy enough to layer the tension in the room with one more level of awkwardness, and I didn’t need to see Chris to know that he was a mixture of nervous and confused, at the very least.

I knew it because I was, too. I was completely thrown off by my own behaviour, as weirdly as that sounded. I didn’t know why I was so defensive, except that I did. I did know it, I just didn’t want to admit. 

“Well, this child wants to be left alone. I’ll talk to you later, Chris.” And I stormed off into the bathroom, only stopping to take a breath when I was sure the door was locked behind me. I needed to put some distance between myself and him, otherwise I was gonna lose it - even worse than I already did. 

But it was too late to keep on ignoring my feelings. I was forced to deal with the reality of them, at least with myself, since I knew - especially after today - that there was no way I would ever get to reveal to Chris that I’d fallen for him.

To him, I was just a kid, and that’s all I would forever be.

Weirdly, I didn’t feel like crying as I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower, decided to wash away all of the bad feelings that this day had brought me. I just felt… disappointed, like a kid who’s been dreaming about a Christmas present only to find out they’ve been given socks. I’d been hopelessly trying to ignore my feelings for Chris, but at least a small part of me still fed into the ridiculous idea that he could possibly reciprocate those sentiments.

Now that it was obvious it would never be the case, it was like a small part of me had died on that stage.

By the time I got out of the shower, some twenty minutes later, I decided to put on a loose shirt I had kept around from some ex and take a nap until it was time to be social again. Certainly my friends would want to hit the bars or at least grab some dinner, and it would provide me with the perfect occasion to apologize to Chris.

Yes, that was perfect. That would get me a few more hours where I could manage to fabricate some resemblance of control before I had to see him. And then it would all go back to the way it was: me, pretending I don’t have a crush, while he kept seeing me as a kid.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice the massive body hidden beneath the covers in my bed until I went to uncover it so I could slide in.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get out of my bed,” I chastised, but Chris only gave me those annoyingly effective puppy eyes that had me groaning. “No. You don’t get to do this. I’m still mad at you, go to your room and we’ll talk about it later, but for now, just let me wallow in peace.”

But still, he didn’t let up. I tried to climb on the bed, but he was now smack down on the middle of it, still pouting with those perfect full lips of his. 

“Get. out. of. the. Bed.”

“Not until you tell me what I can do for you to forgive me. C’mon, baby girl, just let me make it up to you.” When I didn’t answer, making sure to avoid his eyes, he simply reached out and grabbed me by my hips, forcing me to sit on his lap. “Please?” He quietly begged, one hand cradling my face while the other maintained its grip on my hip. 

The movement had caught me by surprise, and my mouth fell open as I realized that because the shirt had ridden up, I was sat panties glued to Chris’ jeans. And if that wasn’t enough to throw me into a ridiculously horny state, the fact that I could feel just how hard he was certainly did.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t be shy,” he pressed, and my eyes snapped up to meet his, finding a hazy lust that reflected mine and a very, very naugthty smirk that didn’t help my current about-to-get messy situation. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I took a sharp inhale, thinking about what I was about to say. Could I really do this? Should we even do this? I still wasn’t completely sure about what the hell had happened, but one thing I was certain of, and that was that I really wanted him to, “Kiss me.”

For all the reservation I expected Chris to have about this, he didn’t hesitate a single second before pulling me to meet his lips, and it was everything I thought kissing him would be like. His lips were soft and as patient as he seemed to try to be, there was an undeniable edge of neediness in the way his tongue swiped my bottom lip, begging me for entrance.

“You’re not gonna let me in, honey?” He whispered against my lips, warm breath making me shiver in his arms before I was able to gather my thoughts.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” I shrugged, but by Chris’ teasing smile, I knew I had just given him exactly what he wanted. In a quick move, he had me sprawled on the bed underneath him, while he hovered over me with dark eyes that I never thought I’d get to see outside of my dreams.

“Let me show you why you’re wrong.”

Chris’ P.O.V.

I started by rubbing the outside of her thighs until she opened her legs enough for me to settle in the space between them. I paid close attention to the way her breath hitched even with the softest of touches, incapable of stopping the grin that made its way into my face.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sensitive, baby.” She whined as I lowered myself to replace my fingers with my lips, slowly making out with the delicate skin of her inner thighs. “You see? This is why I was scared to reveal my feelings for you. It’d be so easy to ruin you.”

By the way she bit on her lower lip, I knew I had reached my goal of making her even more bothered with what I had said, and slowly, I ran my hands up her legs and grabbed her hips to pull her further down, closer to my mouth. I ran my tongue over her lower lip, just barely gathering the excess moisture, and despite how clearly affected she was, Y/N managed to grab my hair and whisper, “I think you’re full of it, Evans.” It made me smirk, but before I could even offer a comeback, she just continued, “But even if you’re right… I’d like nothing more than to be ruined by you and only you.”

A sharp inhale later and a competition of stares, I pounced on her, devouring her little pussy like I’d wish to do so many fucking times before. She was sweet, but her moans were even sweeter, and the combination of sounds and taste and smell only served to intoxicate me, make me even more thrilled about finally having this gorgeous woman underneath me.

As her juices dripped from my jaw on the bed, she kept caressing my head, keeping me closely connected to her like I would ever dream of stepping away from this moment. I wanted to stay right here forever, away from people’s judgements and the overwhelming fear that she would think this was a mistake after it was over.

And right here, as my nose brushed her clit as I plunged my tongue as far as it could go inside her hole, she came right before my eyes, her honey dripping onto my tongue as I came up to toy with her clit before at last parting with her taste.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” I pointed out, stealing her lips with mine so I could share her taste with her, so she’d know I was right. “You’re sweet all over. Shit, I really want to fuck you.” My voice became nothing but a whisper, and soon her hands were cradling my face, thumb playing with my bottom lip before I sucked it. It was true. I craved to feel her from the inside, know what it was like to possess her in that way, too.

“Then fulfill both of our wishes. I really want to be fucked by you.”

Godfuckingdamn. This girl was just perfect. I knew right then, I’d made the right choice by deciding to stick around. When she appeared wearing nothing but that shirt, I forgot all of the reasons that were holding me back from simply taking her, and even now, they didn’t seem all that important anymore.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Your wish is my command.” I heard the words and braced myself to finally feel his cock inside of me, but still, the second that its head managed to fit, a long, drawn-out moan revealed just how impossible it was for me to restrain myself as Chris stretched me open around his member.

“Fuck!” Chris shouted, and it surprised me so much that it made my eyes widen as I stared up at him, hands still holding tightly on his muscular shoulders. “Sorry! Sorry.” He repeated as he bottomed out, forehead resting against mine as he seemed to catch his breath. “I just… I imagined your moans, but hearing them is a completely different thing altogether.”

The sentence had butterflies flying in my stomach and the reality of the situation suddenly hit me. I was lying in bed completely naked with a still fully clothed Chris Evans on top of me, and his cock was filling me in ways I’d never been filled before while he kept releasing these breathy little moans that had my heart skipping a beat every damn time my mind registered them.

“Good to know I’m not the only one who has been dreaming about this,” I settled for whispering in his ear before sucking on his earlobe, and a shiver passed through his body, making me giggle.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me quickly before deciding to do it again. “But I’m even more glad that this is actually happening right now.” What could I add to this? I didn’t think there were any combination of words possible. So I resigned myself to feel it, memorize every single thing about this moment when Chris started to pull out only to push back in again. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, and in that moment, I’d let him do anything to me, just as long as he kept fucking me like this.

His thrusts felt like waves washing over the shore, bringing the tide of desire higher and higher and I could feel it reaching the point where it all changed, the point where my life would turn upside down because I would know what it felt like to cum around Chris’ cock, and the anticipation was enough to have me writhing on the unmade sheets of the hotel bed.

“Shit,” Chris chuckled, and I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a soft look on his. “You’re unbelievable, sweetheart.” I could see the desire in his darkened pupils. I was sure it mirrored my own. “So beautiful, and you take my cock so well.”

Hearing him talk dirty was everything I’d always wished for, and I could feel myself getting even wetter around him, whines and whimpers escaping my chest as I held him closer to me.

“Fuck, I really wanna buy you a collar with my name on it. Make sure everyone knows I own you now.” The words, paired with the warmth of his breath had me clenching around him, and I fucking melted when I heard him meanly chuckle at my state - the state that he had caused me. “You want it too, huh?”

I really, really did. I’d never been one for external marks of possession, but something about this, about Chris and I, really had me going crazy for his proposal. Maybe because a part of me thought he would never want to admit this had ever happened. I thought he would try to deny it, and so to hear him wishing to boast about it… It really had me going crazy under him.

“Say it.” His voice cut through the haze, making me realize I was actually about to cum again. It took me a while to understand what it wanted, just enough to have him ordering again, in a tone of voice that made every single part of me tingle, “Say you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I do. I want everyone to know I’m yours and only yours, Christopher.” I don’t know if it was the desperation in my tone, my use of his full name or the fact that I came again, but that finally had him losing the control of his movements, quickly pulling out of me and jerking himself off until his cum was painted all over my stomach.

For a second, it was only our labored breaths in the bedroom, staring at each other like we couldn’t believe this had really happened. “Still think I’m a kid?” I had to laugh, biting my lower lip while trying not to show that I actually was really nervous about his reaction now that we were done. But his eyes softened, a quick kiss deposited on my lips before he cradled me in his arms, cum and all, and answered, “You’ll always be my little girl. I just want to do some very adult stuff to you.”