#i have written other stuff before so. maybe people have read it. but now you know it's me :)
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Being here in this city is both so similar and yet so different to the last time they were here eighteen months ago. They’re recording in the same studio and living in the same apartment, though it’s had a fresh coat of paint and some new carpets since last time they stayed here. Even this insomnia isn’t new; he’s spent enough sleepless nights on this very balcony that it almost feels like home. But within the band, it feels like everything has changed, the balance between them has shifted... Jan knows that the difference is Nace. --- Joker Out are in Hamburg recording their next album. One sleepless night, Jan can't help but think about what has changed since the last time they were here. Most notably, his relationship with Nace.
i was talking to @lovvecherrymotion about rooming arrangements in hamburg and jance and how much has changed since eurovision and when they recorded carpe diem and she gave me this prompt. no one on here actually knows this but i write sometimes and jo encouraged me to share...
i am so soft for these two and have ended up writing the fluffiest thing i've ever written about their relationship. so yeah. i hope you guys like it...
and a moodboard for the vibes!
#joker out#nace jordan#jan peteh#jance#mine#ty jo i love having unhinged jance discussions with you!#i have written other stuff before so. maybe people have read it. but now you know it's me :)#btw one of the b/w pictures in the moodboard is krisu's from berlin i just love it so much#i only made the moodboard because it looked like fun and i haven't had a go yet asfgahskj#it's only tangientially related but yeah.
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I had another fic idea and the brain was like "no, that's too fluffy and romantic and YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE NICE THINGS, PEOPLE WOULD JUDGE YOU" but then I went "but what if it was kind of... comedy fluff?" and brain went "...yeah, okay, if you really must." Which I fucking HATE! Why can't I write nice things, brain?! Everyone else is allowed to! FFS, it's fanfiction, it doesn't have to be ~deep~ or any of that shit!
This has actually been a bit of an issue when I'm trying to write The WIP because while I told myself yeah sure go ahead and write the massively self-indulgent epically long (by my own odd standards) fic but still sometimes I get stuck because I'm not "allowed" to write something that appeals to me and my own sometimes niche interests??
Like angst I can do because that's "proper" somehow? WTF is that about? It's not proper! It's still daft! And comedy I'm allowed because I dunno apparently if it will make someone laugh that means it has "value"? It's very annoying, I don't like it.
Do other people have this? How do you deal with it? You'd think after all this time I'd be okay with writing any old shit that I want to. If anything it might be worse now. I remember years ago I could tell myself "Look, if you've spelled most of it correctly then it's already in like the better half of all the fanfic on the internet" which isn't really TRUE but I could go along with that and let myself write whatever-the-fuck I wanted to.
You know how many of us go "I'll write this fucked up thing... but I'll post it as Anon"? I get that with fluffy fic ideas as well. Or with things that are "too shippy" (WTF?) It's just such a stupid and weird form of self-criticism and it bothers me a lot.
#ranting at myself#writing stuff#possibly this is a mental illness thing but i don't think it is but it might be?#i am Quite Mad but it usually manifests related to fic as the usual “you suck!!” or irritating OCD things about wordcounts or such#this is a VERY SPECIFIC thing and i don't even know where it came from?#maybe i'm just pretentious? do i look pretentious? i might be?#(the fluffy thing was sylki fic where spinning off on the 'oh no unable to express feelings!' they have to pass each other notes)#(the comedy element was that this is Bloody Stupid and also Mobius attempts to Help (oh no) and etc)#(will i ever be able/“allowed” to actually write that thing? dunno!)#the Frigga thing also suffers from “that bit is despicably adorable you should be ASHAMED of yourself”#.The WIP? currently stuck at “okay now he needs to Hold The Baby. this is an important bit you can't skip it. but babies are Too Twee”#“so you may NOT just write someone Holding The Baby because that's like something people might actually want to read!”#“the murders are fine you can write murders. murder isn't twee. babies are VERY twee though.”#PROBLEM: there are several babies in this fic and the next chapter is like... ENTIRELY baby-based#(the end of the entire fic is already written and it's Too Twee as well but i've kind of gone immune to that because it's existed a while)#(oh no did i just spoiler a Happy Ending?!)#(SPOILER: kind of. it depends who you backed in this race and whether you wanted them to Become Better People)#anyway am gonna post this now before i change my mind as i probably should#fic related
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#this is a vent post I just want to… have it written down somewhere#I’m doing better now btw I’m also writing all this out to try and create a buffer so you have to put in effort to see the rest#but also no one should feel obligated to read anything this is just for me to expurgate it#anyways. um. hoping that’s long enough#so after a largely shitty and fucking unpleasant week (computer failed… lost all my data… lost all my stickers… headaches w senior year…)#i get my wisdom teeth out today. which id known abt for a while it wasn’t a surprise but I was getting a little antsy#abt how my mom had pushed for me to not be sedated and instead get nitrous . so I’d be conscious for the whole procedure#right after breakfast i call about other options but it turns out the other options require you to fast beforehand sooooo nitrous it is#I’ll also mention that I drank the night before and had a slight hangover so maybe that interfered somewhat#but maybe six or so minutes into the surgery I start tearing up and eventually fully sobbing forcing them to stop#because the idea that these people are taking apart my body is so distressing to me#and like… it really did feel like this intimate violation#reaching in and taking something that was mine#idk i felt and feel so bad for just letting that happen… like. it was my body. they didn’t have any right to do that#that’s the first time I’ve ever had surgery and it’s weird — i feel like most things i can manage pretty easily#for example going to the dentist or orthodontist#even if I don’t love it it’s fine I manage. i get my blood drawn semi regularly. It’s Fine.#but for some reason something about this experience… like it was genuinely such a traumatic moment which feels really silly and stupid#considering the stuff other people go through. but really it felt so bad the whole time i was laying back knowing i couldn’t do anything#but mentally over and over going ‘this is my body THIS IS MY BODY’#and I just had to let that happen. genuinely one of the worst experiences of my life and i was suicidal in high school
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Retiring the US debt would retire the US dollar
THIS WEDNESDAY (October 23) at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.
One of the most consequential series of investigative journalism of this decade was the Propublica series that Jesse Eisinger helmed, in which Eisinger and colleagues analyzed a trove of leaked IRS tax returns for the richest people in America:
https://www.propublica.org/series/the-secret-irs-files
The Secret IRS Files revealed the fact that many of America's oligarchs pay no tax at all. Some of them even get subsidies intended for poor families, like Jeff Bezos, whose tax affairs are so scammy that he was able to claim to be among the working poor and receive a federal Child Tax Credit, a $4,000 gift from the American public to one of the richest men who ever lived:
https://www.propublica.org/article/the-secret-irs-files-trove-of-never-before-seen-records-reveal-how-the-wealthiest-avoid-income-tax
As important as the numbers revealed by the Secret IRS Files were, I found the explanations even more interesting. The 99.9999% of us who never make contact with the secretive elite wealth management and tax cheating industry know, in the abstract, that there's something scammy going on in those esoteric cults of wealth accumulation, but we're pretty vague on the details. When I pondered the "tax loopholes" that the rich were exploiting, I pictured, you know, long lists of equations salted with Greek symbols, completely beyond my ken.
But when Propublica's series laid these secret tactics out, I learned that they were incredibly stupid ruses, tricks so thin that the only way they could possibly fool the IRS is if the IRS just didn't give a shit (and they truly didn't – after decades of cuts and attacks, the IRS was far more likely to audit a family earning less than $30k/year than a billionaire).
This has become a somewhat familiar experience. If you read the Panama Papers, the Paradise Papers, Luxleaks, Swissleaks, or any of the other spectacular leaks from the oligarch-industrial complex, you'll have seen the same thing: the rich employ the most tissue-thin ruses, and the tax authorities gobble them up. It's like the tax collectors don't want to fight with these ultrawealthy monsters whose net worth is larger than most nations, and merely require some excuse to allow them to cheat, anything they can scribble in the box explaining why they are worth billions and paying little, or nothing, or even entitled to free public money from programs intended to lift hungry children out of poverty.
It was this experience that fueled my interest in forensic accounting, which led to my bestselling techno-crime-thriller series starring the two-fisted, scambusting forensic accountant Martin Hench, who made his debut in 2022's Red Team Blues:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues
The double outrage of finding out how badly the powerful are ripping off the rest of us, and how stupid and transparent their accounting tricks are, is at the center of Chokepoint Capitalism, the book about how tech and entertainment companies steal from creative workers (and how to stop them) that Rebecca Giblin and I co-authored, which also came out in 2022:
https://chokepointcapitalism.com/
Now that I've written four novels and a nonfiction book about finance scams, I think I can safely call myself a oligarch ripoff hobbyist. I find this stuff endlessly fascinating, enraging, and, most importantly, energizing. So naturally, when PJ Vogt devoted two episodes of his excellent Search Engine podcast to the subject last week, I gobbled them up:
https://www.searchengine.show/listen/search-engine-1/why-is-it-so-hard-to-tax-billionaires-part-1
I love the way Vogt unpacks complex subjects. Maybe you've had the experience of following a commentator and admiring their knowledge of subjects you're unfamiliar with, only have them cover something you're an expert in and find them making a bunch of errors (this is basically the experience of using an LLM, which can give you authoritative seeming answers when the subject is one you're unfamiliar with, but which reveals itself to be a Bullshit Machine as soon as you ask it about something whose lore you know backwards and forwards).
Well, Vogt has covered many subjects that I am an expert in, and I had the opposite experience, finding that even when he covers my own specialist topics, I still learn something. I don't always agree with him, but always find those disagreements productive in that they make me clarify my own interests. (Full disclosure: I was one of Vogt's experts on his previous podcast, Reply All, talking about the inkjet printerization of everything:)
https://gimletmedia.com/shows/reply-all/brho54
Vogt's series on taxing billionaires was no exception. His interview subjects (including Eisinger) were very good, and he got into a lot of great detail on the leaker himself, Charles Littlejohn, who plead guilty and was sentenced to five years:
https://jacobin.com/2023/10/charles-littlejohn-irs-whistleblower-pro-publica-tax-evasion-prosecution
Vogt also delved into the history of the federal income tax, how it was sold to the American public, and a rather hilarious story of Republican Congressional gamesmanship that backfired spectacularly. I'd never encountered this stuff before and boy was it interesting.
But then Vogt got into the nature of taxation, and its relationship to the federal debt, another subject I've written about extensively, and that's where one of those productive disagreements emerged. Yesterday, I set out to write him a brief note unpacking this objection and ended up writing a giant essay (sorry, PJ!), and this morning I found myself still thinking about it. So I thought, why not clean up the email a little and publish it here?
As much as I enjoyed these episodes, I took serious exception to one – fairly important! – aspect of your analysis: the relationship of taxes to the national debt.
There's two ways of approaching this question, which I think of as akin to classical vs quantum physics. In the orthodox, classical telling, the government taxes us to pay for programs. This is crudely true at 10,000 feet and as a rule of thumb, it's fine in many cases. But on the ground – at the quantum level, in this analogy – the opposite is actually going on.
There is only one source of US dollars: the US Treasury (you can try and make your own dollars, but they'll put you in prison for a long-ass time if they catch you.).
If dollars can only originate with the US government, then it follows that:
a) The US government doesn't need our taxes to get US dollars (for the same reason Apple doesn't need us to redeem our iTunes cards to get more iTunes gift codes);
b) All the dollars in circulation start with spending by the US government (taxes can't be paid until dollars are first spent by their issuer, the US government); and
c) That spending must happen before anyone has been taxed, because the way dollars enter circulation is through spending.
You've probably heard people say, "Government spending isn't like household spending." That is obviously true: households are currency users while governments are currency issuers.
But the implications of this are very interesting.
First, the total dollars in circulation are:
a) All the dollars the government has ever spent into existence funding programs, transferring to the states, and paying its own employees, minus
b) All the dollars that the government has taxed away from us, and subsequently annihilated.
(Because governments spend money into existence and tax money out of existence.)
The net of dollars the government spends in a given year minus the dollars the government taxes out of existence that year is called "the national deficit." The total of all those national deficits is called "the national debt." All the dollars in circulation today are the result of this national debt. If the US government didn't have a debt, there would be no dollars in circulation.
The only way to eliminate the national debt is to tax every dollar in circulation out of existence. Because the national debt is "all the dollars the government has ever spent," minus "all the dollars the government has ever taxed." In accounting terms, "The US deficit is the public's credit."
When billionaires like Warren Buffet tell Jesse Eisinger that he doesn't pay tax because "he thinks his money is better spent on charitable works rather than contributing to an insignificant reduction of the deficit," he is, at best, technically wrong about why we tax, and at worst, he's telling a self-serving lie. The US government doesn't need to eliminate its debt. Doing so would be catastrophic. "Retiring the US debt" is the same thing as "retiring the US dollar."
So if the USG isn't taxing to retire its debts, why does it tax? Because when the USG – or any other currency issuer – creates a token, that token is, on its face, useless. If I offered to sell you some "Corycoins," you would quite rightly say that Corycoins have no value and thus you don't need any of them.
For a token to be liquid – for it to be redeemable for valuable things, like labor, goods and services – there needs to be something that someone desires that can be purchased with that token. Remember when Disney issued "Disney dollars" that you could only spend at Disney theme parks? They traded more or less at face value, even outside of Disney parks, because everyone knew someone who was planning a Disney vacation and could make use of those Disney tokens.
But if you go down to a local carny and play skeeball and win a fistful of tickets, you'll find it hard to trade those with anyone outside of the skeeball counter, especially once you leave the carny. There's two reasons for this:
1) The things you can get at the skeeball counter are pretty crappy so most people don't desire them; and ' 2) Most people aren't planning on visiting the carny, so there's no way for them to redeem the skeeball tickets even if they want the stuff behind the counter (this is also why it's hard to sell your Iranian rials if you bring them back to the US – there's not much you can buy in Iran, and even someone you wanted to buy something there, it's really hard for US citizens to get to Iran).
But when a sovereign currency issuer – one with the power of the law behind it – demands a tax denominated in its own currency, they create demand for that token. Everyone desires USD because almost everyone in the USA has to pay taxes in USD to the government every year, or they will go to prison. That fact is why there is such a liquid market for USD. Far more people want USD to pay their taxes than will ever want Disney dollars to spend on Dole Whips, and even if you are hoping to buy a Dole Whip in Fantasyland, that desire is far less important to you than your desire not to go to prison for dodging your taxes.
Even if you're not paying taxes, you know someone who is. The underlying liquidity of the USD is inextricably tied to taxation, and that's the first reason we tax. By issuing a token – the USD – and then laying on a tax that can only be paid in that token (you cannot pay federal income tax in anything except USD – not crypto, not euros, not rials – only USD), the US government creates demand for that token.
And because the US government is the only source of dollars, the US government can purchase anything that is within its sovereign territory. Anything denominated in US dollars is available to the US government: the labor of every US-residing person, the land and resources in US territory, and the goods produced within the US borders. The US doesn't need to tax us to buy these things (remember, it makes new money by typing numbers into a spreadsheet at the Federal Reserve). But it does tax us, and if the taxes it levies don't equal the spending it's making, it also sells us T-bills to make up the shortfall.
So the US government kinda acts like classical physics is true, that is, like it is a household and thus a currency user, and not a currency issuer. If it spends more than it taxes, it "borrows" (issues T-bills) to make up the difference. Why does it do this? To fight inflation.
The US government has no monetary constraints, it can make as many dollars as it cares to (by typing numbers into a spreadsheet). But the US government is fiscally constrained, because it can only buy things that are denominated in US dollars (this is why it's such a big deal that global oil is priced in USD – it means the US government can buy oil from anywhere, not only the USA, just by typing numbers into a spreadsheet).
The supply of dollars is infinite, but the supply of labor and goods denominated in US dollars is finite, and, what's more, the people inside the USA expect to use that labor and goods for their own needs. If the US government issues so many dollars that it can outbid every private construction company for the labor of electricians, bricklayers, crane drivers, etc, and puts them all to work building federal buildings, there will be no private construction.
Indeed, every time the US government bids against the private sector for anything – labor, resources, land, finished goods – the price of that thing goes up. That's one way to get inflation (and it's why inflation hawks are so horny for slashing government spending – to get government bidders out of the auction for goods, services and labor).
But while the supply of goods for sale in US dollars is finite, it's not fixed. If the US government takes away some of the private sector's productive capacity in order to build interstates, train skilled professionals, treat sick people so they can go to work (or at least not burden their working-age relations), etc, then the supply of goods and services denominated in USD goes up, and that makes more fiscal space, meaning the government and the private sector can both consume more of those goods and services and still not bid against one another, thus creating no inflationary pressure.
Thus, taxes create liquidity for US dollars, but they do something else that's really important: they reduce the spending power of the private sector. If the US only ever spent money into existence and never taxed it out of existence, that would create incredible inflation, because the supply of dollars would go up and up and up, while the supply of goods and services you could buy with dollars would grow much more slowly, because the US government wouldn't have the looming threat of taxes with which to coerce us into doing the work to build highways, care for the sick, or teach people how to be doctors, engineers, etc.
Taxes coercively reduce the purchasing power of the private sector (they're a stick). T-bills do the same thing, but voluntarily (they the carrot).
A T-bill is a bargain offered by the US government: "Voluntarily park your money instead of spending it. That will create fiscal space for us to buy things without bidding against you, because it removes your money from circulation temporarily. That means we, the US government, can buy more stuff and use it to increase the amount of goods and services you can buy with your money when the bond matures, while keeping the supply of dollars and the supply of dollar-denominated stuff in rough equilibrium."
So a bond isn't a debt – it's more like a savings account. When you move money from your checking to your savings, you reduce its liquidity, meaning the bank can treat it as a reserve without worrying quite so much about you spending it. In exchange, the bank gives you some interest, as a carrot.
I know, I know, this is a big-ass wall of text. Congrats if you made it this far! But here's the upshot. We should tax billionaires, because it will reduce their economic power and thus their political power.
But we absolutely don't need to tax billionaires to have nice things. For example: the US government could hire every single unemployed person without creating inflationary pressure on wages, because inflation only happens when the US government tries to buy something that the private sector is also trying to buy, bidding up the price. To be "unemployed" is to have labor that the private sector isn't trying to buy. They're synonyms. By definition, the feds could put every unemployed person to work (say, training one another to be teachers, construction workers, etc – and then going out and taking care of the sick, addressing the housing crisis, etc etc) without buying any labor that the private sector is also trying to buy.
What's even more true than this is that our taxes are not going to reduce the national debt. That guest you had who said, "Even if we tax billionaires, we will never pay off the national debt,"" was 100% right, because the national debt equals all the money in circulation.
Which is why that guest was also very, very wrong when she said, "We will have to tax normal people too in order to pay off the debt." We don't have to pay off the debt. We shouldn't pay off the debt. We can't pay off the debt. Paying off the debt is another way of saying "eliminating the dollar."
Taxation isn't a way for the government to pay for things. Taxation is a way to create demand for US dollars, to convince people to sell goods and services to the US government, and to constrain private sector spending, which creates fiscal space for the US government to buy goods and services without bidding up their prices.
And in a "classical physics" sense, all of the preceding is kinda a way of saying, "Taxes pay for government spending." As a rough approximation, you can think of taxes like this and generally not get into trouble.
But when you start to make policy – when you contemplate when, whether, and how much to tax billionaires – you leave behind the crude, high-level approximation and descend into the nitty-gritty world of things as they are, and you need to jettison the convenience of the easy-to-grasp approximation.
If you're interested in learning more about this, you can tune into this TED Talk by Stephanie Kelton, formerly formerly advisor to the Senate Budget Committee chair, now back teaching and researching econ at University of Missouri at Kansas City:
https://www.ted.com/talks/stephanie_kelton_the_big_myth_of_government_deficits?subtitle=en
Stephanie has written a great book about this, The Deficit Myth:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/14/everybody-poops/#deficit-myth
There's a really good feature length doc about it too, called "Finding the Money":
https://findingmoneyfilm.com/
If you'd like to read more of my own work on this, here's a column I wrote about the nature of currency in light of Web3, crypto, etc:
https://locusmag.com/2022/09/cory-doctorow-moneylike/
Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/21/we-can-have-nice-things/#public-funds-not-taxpayer-dollars
#pluralistic#mmt#modern monetary theory#warren buffett#podcasts#pj vogt#billionaires#economics#we can have nice things#taxes#taxing billionaires#the irs files#irs files#jesse eisenger#propublica
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Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller
Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.8K
A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.
All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.
You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.
You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard.
Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.
“Hey, what can I get you?”
Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.
“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”
His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order.
“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.
He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”
He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.
“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.
“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features.
“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”
That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.
“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”
“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.
He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.
“For how long have you been working here?”
“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.
“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”
“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…
His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.
“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.
“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.
“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”
You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.
“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”
“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”
“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.
“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”
“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.
“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”
The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right?
“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”
He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”
“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”
“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”
“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.
“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him.
“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.
“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.
You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.
“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.
“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”
“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”
“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”
You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved.
“How does that taste?”
“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.
“Yes, I am curious.”
You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.
“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down.
“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.
It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious.
“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.”
You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.
“So considerate of you. Thank you.”
You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that.
What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.
“Your hands are still so cold.”
“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”
“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.
*
He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.
“What do you want then?”
It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.
“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.
He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.
You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.
“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck.
“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.
But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.
“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.
“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.
“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”
“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”
“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”
“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”
He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.
He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”
“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”
For him? Sure. But for you?
“The bed is better.”
“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.
He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.
You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.
“That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”
You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.
He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.
“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.
“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”
“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”
Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth.
“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.
“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”
“But you kinda are.”
“I am not. Believe me.”
He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.
“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.
He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.
His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.
He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you.
“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”
You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.
When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.
He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.
“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.
“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”
Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”
“I told you, I am not.”
He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”
“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”
“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”
“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”
You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.
“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”
“I just know what I want.” And this is it.
He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.
“You’re taking me so well already.”
“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”
He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.
“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”
“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”
“That I am not made of glass.”
“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”
“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.
“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.
“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”
He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess.
“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”
“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.
“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.
“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.
“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.
“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.
“What do you want?”
“Just… harder.”
“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”
“This! Yes! Just like this!”
“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”
You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.
There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.
His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.
You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”
He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too.
“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.
“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”
You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”
“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.
You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.
“Now, I can get used to that.”
“Say my name again, please.”
You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”
“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#sebastian stan#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#avengers smut#bucky barnes fluff#my stories
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Day 4; Convince.
╰┈➤"Telling your friends that you're in a relationship with Scarabia's vicehousewarden was supposed to be easy and nice to share...Once you can convince them you're telling the truth, of course."
╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 3.2k words.
╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.
╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.
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⤿
Sleepovers at Ramshackle started as something casual. It only happened a few times every month, maybe the day after an overblot, as a way to make (Y/n) some company after difficult days. However, after some time, they became more regular, and more crowded.
At first, it was only Deuce and Ace. Then Jack joined, then Epel, Ortho, and somehow, even Sebek started to assist, under the excuse that Silver guarded Malleus back at Diasomnia, whereas he was in charge of guarding Ramshackle in case Malleus decided to visit Ramshackle at night, as he usually did (Malleus never went when the Prefect informed him that they were going to have a sleepover with the first-years).
They usually played video games, watched movies or just talked about school stuff. Like they did now, as they were reunited at the lounge of Ramshackle; Ace, Deuce and Epel laying on some makeshift beds that were on the ground, the Prefect sitting on one of the sofas with Grim, Sebek and Jack on the other sofa nearby, and Ortho sitting happily on one of the chairs of the room.
“Did y’all know that Rook’s partner from the Science club broke up with his girlfriend?” Epel commented, as he ate some chips out of a now half-empty bag.
“Epel, don’t you think it’s quite inappropriate to talk about other people’s personal life?” Jack questioned.
“Uuuuh, you’re talking about that one guy from Scarabia?” Ace asked right away, promptly ignoring Jack’s words.
“Yeah, that one.” The Pomefiore student nodded. “You think he cheated or something?”
“It’s kinda mean to suggest that.” Deuce commented. “…But I heard that his girlfriend found some messages from another girl on the past holidays.”
“If that’s the case, he should be punished for tarnishing his dorm’s reputation with such immoral behaviour.” This time was Sebek who joined.
“They didn’t break up because of that, though.” The Prefect clarified. “It was because he did terrible on his last exams, and his girlfriend told him through the phone, and I quote, ‘she wouldn’t date a dumb loser’, something like that.”
“How do you even know that?” Ace was quick to question.
“I was at Scarabia when the girl called him, she was loud enough to be heard even if he didn’t have the volume up.” They replied nonchalantly, as they accommodated the blanket that covered Grim and them, as the small beast complained that he was feeling cold.
“What were you doing at Scarabia either way?” The Pomefiore first-year asked as he reached for another bag of chips.
“Oh, about that…” The Prefect murmured, now wondering if this was the time to tell them. After all, this was one of the few times when all of their friends were reunited in a place without other students around, and they probably would notice at some point, if they hadn’t noticed already. “Now that we’re talking about that, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”
“Oh, really? Do tell us, Prefect.” Ortho encouraged, moving his chair to hear them more clearly.
“Well, I waited a little bit before telling all of you because we decided to be more discreet for now, but I think is best for you to hear it from me rather than someone else.” (Y/n) started, as the rest of first-years looked at them expectantly. “I’m dating someone.”
For a few seconds, silence prevailed over the room, no visible reaction out of their friends, until Ace suddenly yelled triumphantly.
“I knew you were dating Kalim! Pay up, Deuce!” He immediately turned towards his dormmate to collect their bet.
“Well, congrats Prefect, good for you-“
“What? I’m not dating Kalim!” The magicless human was quick to correct. “I’m dating Jamil!”
Another silence.
And then, Ace’s loud laugh.
“C’mon Prefect! You don’t have to lie.”
“It’s okay if you have a crush on him or something, but you shouldn’t pressure yourself to say such things…”
“We can help you if you want to look for someone else, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” (Y/n) questioned discomposed by their friends’ comments, probably more upset at the fact that they weren’t mocking them, and their suggestions seemed genuine, for some reason.
“Please don’t be offended.” Deuce tried to reassure them. "It’s not that you’re ugly or unattractive, I think you’re very nice and pretty. It’s just that…”
“Jamil is…Jamil, y’know?” Ace complemented Deuce’s comment. “I see him a lot at practice, he just doesn’t seem the kind to date someone.”
“Yeah, besides isn’t he like, busy all day with his dorm stuff?”
“Jamil is a very diligent vicehousewarden and a dedicated guardian to Kalim, a relationship would only distract him from his duties!”
“Idia says that he could probably beat him in a competition of who sleeps less, it would be incredible if he managed to be in a relationship even with how tired he probably is.”
“I think you are exaggerating…But I agree he doesn’t look like the kind of person to be in a relationship.”
“His food is really good! You should invite him over more frequently.”
“That’s not the point of the conversation, Grim.” The Prefect sighed, wondering when they thought this would be a good idea. “I’m not saying I like him; I’m saying I’m dating him. Like, we already went through all the confessing part and stuff, he’s my boyfriend!” They stared at their group of friends. “You don’t believe me, don’t you?” They asked with a deadpan expression.
“I’d never call you a liar.” Jack answered immediately. “But it is hard to think about it…”
“Even you, Jack, I can’t believe this.” The magicless human sank onto the sofa, offended that none of them could imagine them dating Jamil. They knew he was handsome and committed to his responsibilities, but c’mon, they were the Prefect of Ramshackle, the one who survived multiple overblots, who built their dorm from scratch and managed to stay sane (lowkey) on a world that wasn’t even theirs. It wasn’t difficult to put some respect to their name, wasn’t it?
“You’re all bad friends and I hate you all.” They mumbled as they covered themselves with the blanket with a dramatic demeanour. “Even Grim was more supportive than all of you.”
“You were?” Ace frowned towards the direction of the little beast.
“He makes nice meals and always brings my henchman food for lunch! He’s not that bad, he brought the great Grim a tuna can once.”
“It’s not like Grim is the best source of information, though…”
“You know what? I’ve got nothing to prove to you.” (Y/n) got up abruptly, the offended expression still adorning their face. “You will see it by yourselves soon enough.”
“Sure, Prefect, if that makes you sleep better at night.”
“One more word and I’ll kick all of you out of my dorm.”
⤿
⤿
“What class do we have after this?”
“Shared gym class with Vargas.”
“Great, I’ll have to listen to Sebek screaming for an hour more than usual.”
“I’ll let you know I speak on a perfectly decent volume! You humans just have weak ears!”
“Great Sevens, have mercy on me…”
The group of first-years walked on the main hallway, already on their way to their next class, when the Prefect caught a glimpse of a certain vicehousewarden who seemed to be walking towards another classroom.
‘This is my chance to prove them wrong.’
“Jamil, hey!” The magicless human separated from the group to get close to the Scarabia student, who looked at them as soon as they heard their voice. “How are you-“
“I’m very sorry my love, I’ve got a test with Crewel in less than five minutes, I’ll talk to you later.” He walked past quickly with an apologetic voice tone, leaving the Prefect started as they watched him disappear promptly at the end of the hall.
As they stood there, even now far away from their group of friends, they could hear Ace’s snickering, the sound even more prominent as they walked back with them. After all, they were close enough to see how the vicehousewarden turned them down, but not close enough to hear the fondness of Jamil’s voice or the pet name.
“Very romantic, Prefect.”
“Shut up.”
⤿
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The cafeteria buzzed with the sound of multiple chats of the many tables filled with students from different dorms all around the place. (Y/n) arrived at the table where Ace, Epel, Ortho and Sebek were waiting for them, as Deuce and Jack hadn’t finished their club practice yet. As they sat next to them, their phone suddenly buzzed.
Jamil: ‘I brought you lunch’
Me: ‘I can bring my own meal, you know? I’m not that irresponsible’
Jamil: ‘A meal better than curry?’
Me: ‘…I want you to know that I really love you.’
Jamil: ‘I’m on the tables next to the windows, come quickly’
“I’ll be back in a minute.” The magicless human notified their friends, as they made their way towards the table where Scarabia student was waiting for them.
“Hey handsome, how did you do on Crewel’s test?” The Prefect asked right away, discreetly taking his hand to squeeze lightly as a greeting.
“It was good, I just got late after running some errands in the morning.” He sighed, squeezing their hand back, and then softly dropping it to take the extra lunchbox he brought. “Here, take it.”
“Thank you, Jamil, I really appreciate it.”
“It was nothing, I hope you like it.”
“You cooked it, of course I will. You’ve got practice today after class, don’t you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing, just asking. See you later.” They turned back, ready to go back to their table with their friends.
‘Heh, now I can show the guys that my beautiful boyfriend brought me a fantastic lunch-'
“Hey stop that! If you’re not careful I’ll-AH, Oh, I’m very sorry!” Suddenly, a first-year from another class crashed against them. “I’m so so sorry, my friend here was bothering me and I- Great Sevens, your lunch!”
Well, now the lunch made by their beautiful boyfriend lay on the ground, and (Y/n) could only stare at it with a deadpanned expression.
“You’re okay?” Jamil rushed to their side, promptly checking if they were hurt by the other student.
“Yeah, but the lunchbox…”
“I can pay for your lunch! I really apologize.” The first-year spoke again. (Y/n) had seen him a few times before, and they knew he wasn’t a bad guy, his only crime was being a bit clumsy and having annoying friends. They had that in common, perhaps.
“No, don’t worry, it's alright.” They commented with a dismissive expression.
“I can give you part of my lunch, if you want.” The vicehousewarden was quick to offer.
“It’s fine, like I said before, I brought my lunch as well. Besides, curry is your favourite. I’ll see you after class.”
“Alright, have a nice meal.”
“You too.”
They turned around and came back to their seat, this time without the lunchbox between their hands, sitting on their spot as they stared at the table.
They, in fact, forgot to bring their own lunch.
⤿
⤿
Two classes and one-half of a sandwich that Epel gave them later, it was finally the end of the day. It was tiring, but at least it was Friday, which usually meant that a sleepover would take place at Ramshackle, but this time, the boys wanted to try a new video game in which (Y/n) had no interest, so the sleepover would be moved to Heartslabyul, leaving the Prefect a night to rest.
After making a quick stop by the cafeteria, they walked towards the gym, where the basketball practice took place. There, (Y/n) could spot Jamil right away, near the benches. As they entered the room, they greeted other students briefly, noticing then Ace chatting with other first-years in the middle of the court.
‘Maybe this could be a good opportunity to show him he was wrong…’
“It’s good to see you, my love. Did you enjoy your lunch?”
“Yeah, it was very…delicious.” The prefect answered with an awkward smile. “Are you busy after practice?”
“Not really.” He answered, making (Y/n) look at him curiously. “Kalim came back to Scalding Sands for the weekend, for an important family gathering, and he requested for me to stay here.”
“Really? Did he say why he did it?”
“...No.”
“How strange, because Kalim told me last week how happy he was to give you a free weekend to spend with me.” The Ramshackle student teased with a smile. Ever since he found out they were dating (which was like two days after they got together), he seemed so excited for Jamil that (Y/n) could swear that he was probably waiting to organize their wedding right away.
“…Yeah, very unusual. Don’t think much about it.” The vicehousewarden dismissed the topic, a faint blush on his face.
“Well, considering that, would you like to come to Ramshackle tonight? Grim is staying a Heartslabyul, so we could watch a movie or something like that. Only if you want, of course.”
“Yeah, sounds good to me.”
“It’s settled, then.” They smiled at him. “Practice is probably going to start soon, so I should leave. See you at Ramshackle at 6?”
“I’ll be there.” Jamil looked around for a few seconds, before towards them to leave a soft and brief kiss on their lips as a way to say goodbye.
The Prefect stood in their place for a few seconds, dumbfounded, as Jamil walked away nonchalantly towards where the rest of the team was. They had kissed before, but it wasn’t often in public, due to Jamil’s reserved nature, so it was surprising for them.
‘Take that, Ace!’
They walked happily towards the exit, until the figure of a certain first-year appeared through the door.
“Ace? Weren’t you here already?”
“Yeah, but I had to refill my water bottle. Why are you here, anyway?”
“Well, I…” They mumbled, until they suddenly realised. “Wait, you didn’t even see?!”
“See what?” The Heartslabyul student asked, genuinely confused.
“You know what? I don’t care anymore.” (Y/n) sighed, walking away from the gym, and leaving his friend confused at their change of demeanour.
⤿
⤿
“So, they don’t believe you?”
“Yeah, and you haven’t been cooperative either.”
Jamil and (Y/n) chatted as they prepared to go to sleep. They had already spent the evening watching movies and talking, and after Jamil had made dinner for the both of them, they realised how dark was outside. This motivated (Y/n) to suggest that it was too late and too far for Jamil to walk alone back to his dorm (It was 11 pm and it was a 15-minute walk), so he should just stay the night.
They were already lying on bed, just talking, when (Y/n) remembered the dilemma that had bothered them for the past few days and started to narrate his failed attempts to demonstrate to their friends that they were, in fact, incredible enough to date Jamil.
“I didn’t know I had to cooperate in the first place, so that should excuse me.”
“You literally walked past me when I wanted to talk to you.”
“I was late.”
“The boys mocked me for the rest of the day!” (Y/n) complained, plopping their head onto Jamil's chest to prove their frustration. “I can’t believe they don’t think I’m capable of dating you.”
“If it’s making you uneasy, I could talk to them-“
“That would be even more embarrassing.” They sighed. “I gave up. If they don’t want to believe me, it’s up to them.”
“I don’t get them, though. I thought I was obvious, back then when I started to like you, so I believed that your friends would notice.”
“You had too much faith in them. Besides, you weren’t obvious, even I didn’t notice.”
“I tutored you for Trein’s class and I helped you manage your dorm.”
“And?”
“That's a lot more of anything that I’d do for anyone else that wasn’t you.” The vicehousewarden threw one of his arms around (Y/n), who answered by nuzzling closer to him.
“Yeah, you may have a point there.” They replied, yawning as they started to feel the exhaustion get to them. “Can you believe they thought I was dating Kalim at first?” They commented lightly, suddenly feeling Jamil’s body stiffen.
“…They did?” He questioned, a frown on his face, receiving a quiet ‘Mhm’ as an answer. “…I think it would be okay if we started to be less discreet.”
“It wouldn’t make you uncomfortable?”
“Well, holding hands wouldn’t be so bad, right.” The Scarabia student replied, trying to sound nonchalantly. “Besides, it would keep your friends away from incorrect and wrong suppositions.”
“It’s fine by me.” The Prefect mumbled, once again yawning. “But we should sleep already, I’m tired.”
“Goodnight then, my love.”
“Goodnight dear.”
⤿
⤿
“Prefeeeeect, we’ve brought you cat!”
“Leave me on the ground! I can walk by myself!”
“You went to the kitchen at 4 am and Riddle caught you, I’m not leaving you until (Y/n) gets you back. I’m getting collared if I don’t!”
“The great Grim was just hungry!”
“Ace, the Prefect is probably sleeping, I don’t think they’ll open the door at this hour.” Deuce mumbled, ignoring Grim's complaints.
“Fine, let’s just leave him in their room.”
The three of them opened the door to the dorm, the interior still cold due to how early it was, the ghosts nowhere to be found yet, even as they made their way through the stairs.
“(Y/n), sorry to bother you, Riddle sent us to drop Grim by and- Ace, isn’t that Jamil?!”
“What are you saying, why would he be here at this hour- Wow, yeah that’s him!”
The duo didn’t even bother to keep their voices low, causing (Y/n) to stir up due to the sudden noise, making them sit down on the bed a few seconds later to look for the source of such scandal.
“Ace…? Deuce…? What are you doing here...” They mumbled, interrupting themselves with a yawn. “What happened to your sleepover?”
“That’s not the point right now, what’s Jamil doing here?!”
“Well, he-“
“My love, what’s with all the noise…?” This time was the vicehousewarden who woke up, tiredly sitting on the bed, until he realized they had company. A company that now was looking at him like he grew two heads.
“Did he just call the Prefect…?”
“Yes, he did.”
“It’s too early for this nonsense.” Jamil mumbled, feeling his cheeks heating up, as he sighed to mask his embarrassment.
“I literally told you two I was dating him like a week ago. Now, I won’t receive Grim before 11 am, so leave my dorm before I call Riddle.” (Y/n) ordered, plopping themselves in the bed to go back to sleep.
“But Riddle said he’d collar us if we didn’t-“
“Not my problem, out of my dorm.”
“But-“
“If you don’t leave right now, I’ll tell Floyd you were the one who ate his snack yesterday.” This time was Jamil who spoke, already annoyed.
“Yeaaah, let’s go Deuce.”
The vicehousewarden sighed once again, coming back to the position he was in as soon as the Heartslabyul students left.
“I’m never speaking to them again.” He mumbled against the Prefect’s hair.
“Why? Because they saw you all soft when waking up?” They teased, chuckling quietly.
“No, because they have no sense of decent hours to wake someone up.”
“Hey, look at the bright side, we don’t have to convince them now.”
“Yeah, whatever, now go back to sleep.”
(Y/n) smiled tenderly, wrapping their arms around the figure of the vicehousewarden.
“As you wish, my love.”
⤿
⤿
⤿
#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oneshot#disney twst#twst x you#twisted wonderland jamil#twst oneshot#jamil viper x reader#twst jamil#lynnie's post
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he can't sit with us (or maybe he can?)
written for @steddie-week Day 4 prompt: Trade Rating: T | wc: 2651 | no cw thank you to @stevethehairington and @thefreakandthehair for beta-ing this one for me!! Read on ao3
Eddie is amped up.
Lunch has always been his favorite part of the school day, but today is going to be an especially good one. Not because of his lunch — he forgot to grab the sandwich he made last night so he wouldn’t forget, and he’s been out of lunch credit for weeks now, so he’s shit out of luck on that front — but because today’s the day he unleashes his latest rant on the hivemind that is the Hawkins High student body.
It’s taken him weeks to work out everything he wants to say about the giant mall they’re building a few blocks from Main Street that everyone and their workaholic fathers are excited about. The one that led to the demolishment of Hawkins' second-best trailer park — Forest Hills being the best, obviously. He even asked Wayne’s advice on what he should say since his uncle has way more experience going against The Man™ and The Man’s™ People.
He’s pretty proud of what he’s come up with. Sure, it’s a typical Munson rant that goes on a personal tangent in the middle about how Sam Goody and Tape World are probably going to put Jet’s Jams out of music. And okay, yeah, Jet’s Jams is the fucking worst most of the time and only ever has the top 40s bullshit in stock, but at least Eddie has some pull with good ole’ Jet and can bargain with the dude to order a metal record or two every once in a while. You think Sam Goody is going to take his advice? Not a chance in hell!
But then he’ll get back on track and get into the educational stuff that Wayne talked to him about. At least, that’s the plan; all he has to do is stick to the bullet point list he scribbled out in Ms. O’Donnell’s class thirty minutes ago, ignoring whatever the fuck she was going on about at the front of the room.
It’s going to be great. Definitely one of his best lunchtime soapbox speeches. Hell, maybe this will be the one to actually wake some of his peers up. Capitalism is the real devil here. Not him.
He’s bouncing with adrenaline and nerves as he saunters into the crowded cafeteria, ready for his moment, ready for—
What the hell?
Eddie stops midstride when he spots Gareth and Jeff waving at him from a table in the middle of the room. Again, what the hell? That’s not their table. Not even fucking close.
Eddie doesn’t believe in the social hierarchy of high school cliques, but he does respect the lunch table distribution system Hawkins’ operates under. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that tables in the middle are destined for the so-called elite. Not his Dungeons & Dragons club and the other lost sheep stragglers he’s accumulated over his extended high school career.
They’re supposed to be sitting at a table on the outskirts of the room. The one by the windows, with the art kids to his right and the drama kids to his left. The weirdo, outcast corner.
And yet, there they are in the middle of the room at a table usually occupied by the so-called elites and anyone else they’ve deemed worthy of their company.
“This isn’t our table,” Eddie says, slamming his hands down with enough force to knock Gareth’s brown paper bag over, taking his unopened Dr. Pepper can with it.
Gareth scowls, righting the can. “Now I see why you’re a super senior. Of course, it’s not our fucking table!”
Eddie intertwines his fingers before pillowing his chin against them. “Okay then, Gareth the Great, tell me why we are sitting here.”
“Our table is occupied,” Jeff supplies.
“Occupied? Everyone knows that’s our table! Is this person new? Have they recently had a lobotomy?”
This time, it’s Freak who speaks up. “No. He knows. He probably just doesn’t give a shit. A table’s a table or whatever.”
Or whatever? Fat chance. A table hasn’t ever been just a table in the hellscape that is Hawkins High. Still, Eddie can’t help but be curious. There aren’t many people who would willingly sit at a new table this late into the school year. It’s a ballsy move.
He figures it’s a scorned drama kid or drumline member — there’s always drama in those groups; someone is always fucking someone they shouldn’t be, horny assholes. But when he turns to get a glance at this intruder, it’s not a butthurt outcast taking up court at the table, but rather Hawkins' very own Fallen King, Steve Harrington.
For the third time, what the hell?
“Did you tell him it’s our table?”
“No! He’s Steve Harrington! I don’t think he’ll appreciate a couple of nerds telling him to move.”
“And we value our lives too much to mess with upperclassmen,” Gareth says, mumbling something about learning his lesson the last time he tried something stupid like that.
Eddie rolls his eyes before scoffing loud enough to startle the nearby table of cheerleaders. He wiggles his fingers in an innocent wave before focusing his attention back on his friends.
“Please, Steve is all bark and no bite. And he hasn’t been Steve Harrington in a while.” Eddie raises his voice several octaves, batting his eyelashes as he says Steve’s name. “Now he’s just Steve Harrington,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with a nonchalance he never would have expected to use for someone of Steve’s former status. “He’s just some guy whose girlfriend dumped him for an artsy loner.”
“It doesn’t matter, man! You don’t mess with people like Harrington,” Jeff says, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s just like a one-time thing or something. It’s not like any of his friends are sitting with him. Maybe he’s just fighting with them.”
Jeff has a point. Steve is alone. Sitting at the table all be himself, poking disinterestedly at an apple sauce cup. He’s not cowering or trying to make himself smaller like most people would do if they were stuck eating lunch alone, but he’s not making a show of it either. He’s just there. Minding his own business, staring out the windows Eddie has spent all five years of his high school career looking out off.
“Those sounds like quitting words, Jefferson,” Eddie taunts, turning his attention back to the group. He makes a show of looking each and every Hellfire member in the eyes when he speaks again. “Are we quitters?”
The entire table groans, a few shake their heads. Gareth, always the brave one, throws a chip at Eddie’s head that he manages to catch in his mouth. And people say he’s not athletic!
“Since we’re not quitters, what should we do about this unlawful infiltration?”
“I don’t know if it's an infiltration,” Freak says. “We just like traded tables without a verbal agreement.”
“That’s worse than a seize!”
“I don’t know, man. You’re the one that’s all fired up about it. Why don’t you go over there and ask Harrington to give it back to us.”
“You know what,” Eddie says, pushing off the table until he’s standing. “I will.”
With the same gravitas he entered the cafeteria with, Eddie saunters over to Steve. The sooner he gets this table thing handled, the sooner he can get on with his lunchtime diatribe — see Mr. Vance, I do listen in English class, old bat.
Eddie’s not a quiet walker by any means — he’s had enough pillows thrown at his head from Wayne for the way he stomps around the trailer in the mornings — but he manages to sneak up on Steve. Maybe it’s because his eyes are trained on a squirrel running up a tree in the distance, mumbling encouragements as the poor thing struggles to make it up.
Huh, Harrington’s a squirrel fan? Who knew?
Eddie’s watch chirps, a reminder that there are only ten minutes left of lunch. Jesus H. Christ! He’ll have to do an abridged version of his speech now, but it should still be enough to get his point across. That is if he manages to get Steve to trade tables with them without a fight.
“Fancy seeing you here, Steve,” Eddie says, loud enough to startle Steve out of the squirrel watching. “What brings you to my humble abode?”
Steve glances up at him with a look of disinterest he seems to have perfected in his fall from grace. And honestly, as much as Eddie hates to admit it and would never say it out loud unless he was being waterboarded or some shit, this new version of Steve really works for him.
“Your humble what?” Steve asks, dropping his disinterest to look up confused instead.
His brows pull together, scrunching up his forehead in a way that should be unflattering but is honestly sort of endearing. And his head is tilted to the side like a confused animal — something Eddie has a lot of experience with, given his unofficial status as a trailer park animal rescuer. Eddie’s so lost in studying Steve’s confusion that he forgets to actually respond, which like, is new territory for Eddie. He’s never one not to talk.
“Look, man, I don’t know what you want, but could you just spit it out so I can go back to enjoying my lunch?”
Eddie’s personality returns to his body in an instant. “Enjoying your lunch, you say?” He takes a second to glance at Steve’s lunch tray. A measly bite has been taken out of the cardboard the school passes off as pizza. The side of congealed mac and cheese sits untouch and his apple sauce cup is open but still perfectly intact. “Doesn’t look like you ate at all, Steve.”
“Seriously, Munson, what do you want?”
Eddie tsks and yanks the seat next to Steve away from the table before not-so-gracefully falling into it. He kicks his feet up on the table a moment later, the toe of his boot knocking against the carton of milk he’s willing to bet Steve also hasn’t touched. Though he can’t really blame him for that one. Milk is not a lunchtime beverage, and no amount of dairy propaganda is ever going to change that.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Harrington, this is my table.”
“I didn’t know the cafeteria had assigned seats.”
“Bullshit, you didn’t,” Eddie growls, throwing his hands up in the air. The move forces him to lose his balance, chair wobbling on two legs under him, threatening to give out and dump him on his ass. Definitely not the lunchtime show he was hoping to give today. But before he meets his demise, Steve extends his hand, steadying the chair long enough for Eddie to drop his feet and reclaim his balance. “Thanks.”
Steve grunts in response and goes back to staring out the window.
Fucking squirrel.
“Look, Steve,” Eddie says, getting straight to the point this time. “I don’t know why you decided to switch tables today or why you decided my table was the one you suddenly wanted, but can we please just switch back?”
“I’m good here.”
He tears his eyes away from the window for long enough to glance at his former table, where Gareth and Jeff are using straws as lightsabers without a care in the world. Steve snorts, and Eddie stiffens; he really, really doesn’t want to have to fight anyone today, but if Steve’s willing to be a dick about his friends in front of his face, well, fight, he will. But then Steve’s face softens, and he shakes his head in amusement.
“Looks like your friends are good where they’re at, too. Though the lightsaber skills could use some work,” Steve teases. “Are we good then?”
“No, we’re not good!” Eddie shouts, trying his best to keep his brain on task. We’re here to get our table back, not ponder why Steve Harrington suddenly has a soft spot for nerds because what? “That’s your table, man, and this is ours. You’re going to upset the fragile balance of this place.”
“Shouldn’t you be thanking me or something? I thought upsetting the balance was your life goal.”
How dare Steve Harrington read him like that.
Since his dramatics haven’t worked, Eddie opts for the truth this time. “I have no interest in sitting in the middle of the damn cafeteria where everyone can see me and my friends just to cause a little societal unrest.”
“And I have no interest in being forced to sit in the middle so everyone can stare at me while judging me and my mistakes.”
Oh.
The truth shouldn’t be all that shocking. Anyone who has eyes has witnessed Steve’s fall from King too well; Eddie’s not sure there is a word for what Steve is now. He’s not a pariah or an outcast, not smart enough to be a nerd, and the rumor is he quit basketball, so he’s not a jock. He’s just… lost?
Steve groans, running a hand over his face for a second before his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”
“Uh, sure?”
“Look, Eddie, I’m not going to trade tables with you, but if this one means that much to you, I don’t mind sharing.”
“I thought you said you don’t want people staring at you?”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, well, sitting with the Freaks of Hawkins is definitely going to get people staring and talking, and honestly, you might even have to dodge a punch or two just for being in our vicinity.”
“I’ll survive.”
For the first time in his life, Eddie has no idea what to say. On one hand the idea of sharing a table is so preposterous he’s convinced he might be dreaming right now. But after a quick pinch to confirm that he is awake, he goes back to weighing his options. Sharing a table with Steve isn’t ideal, but sitting in the middle of the fucking cafeteria is a death sentence. He might be able to hold his own with the upper echelon of Hawkins High, but his ragtag group of friends isn’t so scrappy.
And then there’s the lost sheep of it all.
Eddie’s spent most of his high school career looking after lonely high schoolers. Whisking them under his wing, giving them a safe space to eat lunch or a club to hang out at after school to avoid having to walk back home alone. He thought he’d become somewhat of an expert at it, but it seems Steve Harrington has managed to slip through his cracks.
Eddie would be the world’s biggest hypocrite if he didn’t at least try with Steve. It’s not like he has to join Hellfire or anything. All he’s really asking for his a spot at their lunch table.
“I have one condition.”
“Of course you do,” Steve says, rolling his eyes.
“Actually, I have two.” Steve chuckles and motions for Eddie to get on with it already. “One, you can’t make fun of anything that happens at the table. We’re weird. You know it, we know it. We’re allowed to tease each other about it. You are not.”
“I wouldn’t do that. Not anymore.”
Eddie nods. “And two, you have to give me your dessert every day.”
“Every day?” Steve balks. “You can have my applesauce and pudding cups, but I’m not giving you Friday’s chocolate cake.”
“Guess you’re going to have to go back to sitting at the fishbowl table then.”
Eddie watches as Steve considers this for a moment before his shoulders heave the world’s biggest sigh. “Fine.”
Without warning, Eddie pushes away from the table, the legs of the chair screeching against the linoleum. His lips twitch at the corners, pulling into a genuine smile as he stands and offers Steve his hand. “Welcome to the Freak table, Steve.”
#steddieweek2024#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie week#stranger things#stranger things fic#dani writes#gareth#jeff#freak#corroded coffin
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Always Close Your Tabs.
WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ MDNI (I don’t care who reads just if your account age is set to under 18 don’t interact please), step-cest, pseudo-incest, stepbrother/stepsister pairing, degradation kink, light face slapping, very light praise kink, Dom/Sub, lowkey Hard Dom!Leon Kennedy, face fucking, oral (m receiving), mean Leon (I feel he’s a little ooc), like one mention of breeding kink, we got a little sweet aftercare at the end, not as tame as other stuff I’ve written, fem-specific gendered terms. Not proofread.
Notes: FIRST LEON FIC I’M POSTING 😚 actually feeling kinda good about this one! I felt like finishing this and posting it today so here so go!!! I hope you like it ☺️ as always, likes and—especially—comments are very VERY much appreciated 😌 if you have any tags you think I should add just tell me cause I’m not sure if I missed any 🧐 ANYWAYS, enjoy, lovelies 💕
4.5k words | Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader
The couch was irritating you, you were hyper aware of it, the texture, the firmness, everything about it. It didn’t matter where you sat though, everywhere was irritating. Everything was irritating. Your parents were out of town on some dumb anniversary. No. Your parent and her husband. Leaving you home alone with your stepbrother.
Leon.
He was annoying. He was rude, crass, and bitchy. When your mom had told you she was seeing a guy you were happy for her, until she told you that he had a son a few months older than you. Other kids was the one dealbreaker for you, but your mom loved this man so much and you didn’t exactly have much time left to live with her. You could deal with it. So you met Leon, he didn’t talk the entire dinner but to introduce himself and then order something. This was 8 months ago.
Now you live with him.
You were sure that there were worse people to live with, like… Bundy or Dahmer maybe. He always had those loudmouth friends of his over. Chris, who would spend the whole time yelling at the tv and Luis, who would just flirt with you the whole time. The worst of it was that they would only hang out in the living room so you were always confined to your room till they left. That was unless you wanted to hear, ‘ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THAT DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH ME,’ and, ‘Hola, señorita, ¿Qué pasa? You look gorgeous,’ which… you didn’t wanna hear that. Not to even mention how insufferable he was when they weren’t around. Which was the situation now. Sitting on the couch next to you was Leon Kennedy, staring up at the tv watching Desperate Housewives. He had this constant resting dick face that never seemed to go away, and along with that he also seemed to be followed by resting dick air everywhere he went. Especially now that his dad took away his phone and other electronics before your guys’ parents left for their trip. Because apparently that man cared jack shit for your sanity. Now, Leon was irritated. He was insufferable when he was irritated. It just radiated off of him and you were a porous permeable surface. You guys sat like that until…
“Can I use your laptop?”
“What?” You turned to him, his words bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Can I use your laptop?” He repeated himself.
“Uh… sure, I guess?” Shrugging you got off the couch before stopping in your tracks and pointing at him, “but I get to use your car!” Your eyes widen with excitement and you point at him.
“No, no way. You are not driving my car. Not gonna happen.” He huffed in amusement and shook his head.
“And why not?” Your hands went to your hips and you made a face.
“Because,” he mocks your tone, “you’ll crash it.”
“Says you! Leon, you are like the king of bad driving. You hit a tree last month! A tree! They don’t even move and they’ve been there for like years!” Your hands were flying everywhere at this point. You had your license, but since Leon was a little older and got his a little before you he got a car. And since he got a car—and only Jeff Bezos could comfortably pay for his car insurance—you didn’t get one, you had to share with your mom and stepdad. But since they were halfway across the country, you were stuck here.
“It was in my blind spot!”
“What about that mailbox last week? Or Ms. Anderson’s side mirror? Everything can’t be in your blind spot, Leon. That’s what windows are for.” you close your eyes and sigh, “you know what, I don’t care. Bottom line is, if you don’t let me drive your car, no laptop.” You knew you were reaching, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you lost anything if he said no. It wasn’t fair he got the car anyways, your mom promised you a year ago on your birthday that when you got your license she’d take you to a used car dealership and you could pick one. But apparently ‘situations change’ and ‘things don’t always go as planned’, so you were left having to explain to your friends that it actually wasn’t gonna happen. Leon could practically burn holes through your face with the way he was looking at you, honestly that’s probably what he was thinking about. He sighs and closes his eyes.
“Fine.” He opens his eyes and gives you just about the brattiest look imaginable. You just smile and giggle. Your eyes widened in surprise. You were not expecting him to actually say yes.
“Okay!” You practically sprint upstairs to your room, grabbing your laptop off the bed. You make your way back downstairs and bring it to him. “Here ya go!”
“Thanks.” He takes it with a scowl and gets up.
“Whaddya need it for anyways?”
“Because I wanna watch stuff.” He responds flatly.
“What kinds of stuff?” ‘Porn?’ Was your first thought, but you opted not to verbalize that.
“Stuff you can’t watch on the tv?”
“Yes.”
“Why not?” You blinked at him.
“Because you’re watching the tv in here, dingus.” He didn’t look guilty. You know, like you would if you were gonna use your stepsister’s laptop to watch porn off of. He just looks annoyed. “Can I go watch some shit now or you gonna keep interrogating me, detective?”
“Jeez, moody. Sure, go.” You shoo him and turn back to the tv as you sit on the couch. He walks away to his room and you lay back covering your face with your arm. It felt like a weight had been lifted, the tension gone immediately. Part of you wanted to say it was just because he made the air so thick with irritation he could suffocate a room, but you knew that wasn’t completely true…
Leon was hot, like crazy hot.
It was frustrating being around that all day and night. Eating dinner across from an actual model… not easy. It was especially not easy when that model was a sarcastic asshole, and it was especially especially not easy when you kinda liked it. Yes every comment pissed you off, made you want to scream sometimes, punch a hole in the wall. but it also had you wondering… ‘would he… I mean in bed did he…’ god you hoped so. ‘Ew, no you didn’t.’ It was dumb—and entirely inappropriate—but that’s all you could think about when he was around. At some point all the irritation and hatred you had for him just living here, turned into… something you shouldn’t think about.
But who cares.
You didn’t have time to think about that. You had much more pressing matters to attend to, like… desperate housewives. You sit up and lay your body on top of your legs like you were folding yourself in half. You looked up at the screen and flipped onto your back kicking your legs over the back of the couch. It was like you just couldn’t get comfortable no matter what.
“Mmmmmuuhhhhhh.” Sighing you sat back up like normal, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and onto your tired form. And then it hit you.
The computer.
‘Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.’ Standing up abruptly you started making your way to Leon’s room, practically running up the stairs.
You were tired last night. Really, really tired.
So maybe, just maybe, you forgot to close out of a tab last night. Or maybe a couple. Besides it is your computer, why do you need to close out of anything? You don’t, or at least you don’t when your step brother isn’t using your computer.
“Leon, I need my computer.” You knocked at his door and turned the knob quickly. Locked, of fucking course. “Leon?” Bouncing around a little on the balls of your feet, impatiently you step back from the door and shake the tension out of your hands. ‘Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he… didn’t even get on the computer yet. “Leon, I don’t… I don’t need your car. It’s fine, I asked Claire and she said she’d drive me this week.” His door opens like that’s exactly what he was waiting to hear.
“Okay, fine. Take it.” He steps away from the door and you walk inside, looking back at him you take extra attention to his expression. He definitely knows. You just turn back unable to think about that for too much longer, your face burning with heat as you pick up your laptop off of his bed. You feel a pair of hands snake around your waist and you tense up. “But first, I have to know why my slutty little sister thought it was a good idea to give me her laptop with porn open.” It was like your brain took a screenshot. ‘Did he just…’
“I don’t… Leon, I’m sorry. I didn’t-I forgot.”
“Oh you’re such a liar.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “No, I think you did it on purpose. You’re such a smart girl, I don’t believe you could be so stupid.” Your breath got heavier at his accusation.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I fell asleep ‘nd forgot it was on there.” He didn’t respond but his hands started running up and down your sides. “Leon, stop teasing me.” Your voice came out just a whiny whisper, sounding a lot more needy rather than urgent like you meant it.
“You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into that sort of stuff. Always get so nervous when Luis flirts with you, always get so flustered when people touch each other in a movie.” He was ignoring your request completely. “But it makes sense now, you get all shy cause you like it.” Your eyes widen and you squirm in his arms, not exactly trying to get away. Not really trying to get away at all actually. “Wonder how many times I’ve been sitting with you on the couch while your cunt gets all wet. So shameless, darling.” Your body is frozen in embarrassment, it’s kinda hot. ‘God. Don’t think like that Jesus.’
“No, never,” Liar. “Leon, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Yet you aren’t trying to stop me, are you?” His voice is so completely self assured and cocky. Asshole. It made you so wet. You aren’t trying to stop him. You don’t want him to stop, even though you should. He pulls his hands back a little for you, so that if you want to get out you can. Without as much internal protest as you’d hoped, you stay completely still. “See, I was right. You are just a little slut who wants to get touched by her stepbrother.” You visibly cringe at that but feel slick spill into your panties at his words.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” His hands go back around you, pulling you close to him. You could feel the outline of his hardened cock against you.
“Stop… being weird.” You shifted around in his arms.
“How am I being weird?” He snickered.
“Because you’re… stop saying it like that?” Your face was burning at this point. He was pushing up against you, pressing your hips against the edge of his bed.
“Saying it like what? Isn’t that exactly what’s going on? A dumb whore getting wet for her brother?”
“Leon.” His hand dipped down the front of your pants, running his finger down your clothed slit.
“Oh but why? It feels like you like it when I talk to you like that. I mean… given the videos you were watching, I bet you like it.” You pushed up against him. You just want him closer, it doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. He knew what he was doing, making you feel small, degrading you. “You do like it, fuck.” He started grinding himself against your back. You did like it, you wanted him to keep going, keep making you feel small.
“No it… Leon, it’s weird.”
“I know it is, but you like it. You like how depraved it makes you feel. You can’t deny it, I quite literally have seen the stuff you watch to get off.” He was laughing a little, it only amplified how hot and humiliating this was. “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. Everytime you’d roll your eyes when I’d tease you all I could think about was taking it further, pinning you against the counter or the couch and just telling you anything I could think of.”
“Thought you said you didn’t think I’d be into this?”
“You can be into anything I want you to in my fantasies.” His other hand snakes up to start running his thumb up and down the column of your throat. This really should not have such an effect on you, but it does. Your eyes flutter and you let out a soft needy breath as you lay your head back against him. “Oh you like that? You like that I just imagine you in any position I want?” You nod your head reluctantly. Your lips open and close but no sound comes out. He’s barely even touched you but it feels like your tongue is twisted up in your mouth. You can feel your resolve just slipping away the more he speaks to you, the more he touches you.
“Leon, this is… this is so wrong…” your voice comes out so quiet you aren’t sure he could hear you. Or maybe it’s just because the blood pounding in your ears is so loud that you can barely hear yourself.
“But you like that don’t you? Yeah, I know you do.” His finger travels further up to slide across your bottom lip. Involuntarily—you tell yourself—your lips part slightly. He just laughs softly behind you, the smirk that was undoubtedly plastered on his face was audible. “Does this slutty girl want something in her mouth? There you go…” he slides his finger past your lips and onto your tongue. His thumb starts pushing slow thrusts against your tongue. Your hands go to hold onto his forearm feebly, not trying to move or stop him but just needing something to hold onto. “Yeah? You like it when I finger your pretty little mouth?” You just whine and start sucking around his thumb. “Fuck, bet you’d do so good on my cock.” You turned around to face him.
It was stupid, and you don’t know why you did it… yes you do, liar.
“What?” He grinned down at you. Now being able to see your lips around his thumb he couldn’t get enough of it. You knew you were turned on but holy shit you weren’t expecting him to look like… that. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes were lidded. A light blush dusts his cheeks. God he looked good. You imagined you probably looked something similar, probably worse. “I asked you a question.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth and slides it down your chin and across your neck. ‘Oh, right.’
“I um… can I?” You swallowed heavily, barely able to focus on your words with his fingers rubbing at your soft skin.
“‘Can you’ what?” He just laughs, he can tell you’re struggling. Your face heats up with embarrassment realizing just how fuck-drunk you already are. And then he just gets the cockiest look on his face. “Oh, you wanna suck my cock? That what this is?” You just nod weakly, you couldn’t deny it if you tried. “Hmm? I can’t hear you, what do you want?”
“I wanna…” you swallow thickly, “I wanna suck your cock, please.” You chewed on the inside of your lip and just looked at him. He felt like he could just about cum from how needy your voice sounded when you said ‘please’.
“Fuck,” his hand slide up your neck and went to the back of your head. “I know you do. Now get on your knees.” His hand tangled in your hair right up against your scalp and he tightened his grip a little, pulling your head back ever so slightly in the process. The way he was talking to you, how he was treating you, all like you were just some object for his pleasure… fuck, it made you wet. If this situation could possibly get any worse from you guys just doing anything at all in the first place, getting turned on from your stepbrother degrading and objectifying you would definitely make it worse. You moaned softly when he pulled your hair as you started to kneel down in front of him slowly, struggling to resist the urge of responding ‘yes, sir.’ When your knees were on the ground and you finally stopped shifting around to get as comfortable as possible you finally realized the position you were in.
You were on your knees in front of your stepbrother about to suck him off…
But at this point, all thought or consideration of morality and shame had long been lost on you. Instead the lewdness of the situation only fueled the fire and part of you was just getting off on how wrong this was. You felt filthy and all it did was make you want to continue. ‘Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?’, would be what you’d typically be thinking. And you were, just less in a self-deprecating way and more in a self-humiliation way. You bite your lip at the site in front of you, Leon’s clothed hard cock in his gray sweatpants. He had noticed how fixated you were and tilted his head at you with a smirk.
“You want it?” You just stared up at him and moved your hands up to his thighs as you slid them up. “I asked you a question, answer me.” He pulled your hair a little harder this time and you moaned a little louder.
“Yes, wan’ it, Leon, please.” You were completely breathless. It had felt like your mind had turned to mush. You hadn’t even registered his question as a question when he asked, you just wanted to touch him.
“Yeah, I know.” He pushed your head forward till your cheek was pressed up against his cock. “Pretty little cockwhore just wants me inside her.” Your breath quickened when he started grinding up against your face. “Or she just wants to feel me however I please.” His voice was teasing now and he just ground down against you harder.
“However you please, just… Leon, need you.” You barely even sounded like yourself anymore. Normal you would have just pushed him away in the beginning as you made your second-hand embarrassment apparent. Normal you would have known that that was one of the easiest ways to mess with someone and would have totally used it. But here you were instead, a strong-willed smart girl who never pulled any punches now on her knees getting debased completely and absolutely loving it.
“Mmm, you’ll let me use you however I want? What if this is how I wanna do it? What if I just wanna take my cock out and rub it against your face till I cum all over you?” Even in this state you knew he was trying to trap you. He wanted to get you to disagree so he could hear you begging for whatever you really wanted. But you wouldn’t disagree, cause you don’t.
“Even then, just anything you want.” He grinned at your reply. He was tempted, he really was, but after wanting you for so long he wasn’t gonna waste this chance just to prove a point. ‘Next time.’ He pulls your head back just a little so he can see your face. Your lips are slightly parted and you just stare up at him with a grazed over expression.
“Take it out.” He says firmly and raises his eyebrows. You look down at his crotch and bring your hands up to take his dick out of his pants. You feel a sudden sting on your cheek as he slaps you across the face. “No, look at me.” He grabs your jaw and tilts your face up towards his. You make eye contact with him as you start undoing the string on his sweatpants. Part of you wants to look away just so that he’ll slap you again but you don’t. You start pulling his sweatpants and underwear down till his cock swings free. Your eyes dart down to his dick and are only able to just barely register what you’re seeing before he slaps you again just a little harder. “Did you not hear what I said to you? Look. At. Me.” You moan softly and shake your head.
“I heard you, ‘m sorry I was just curious.” You sound a little like you’re about to cry but you’re far from sad about all this.
“You’re curious?” He mocks your voice and pouts his lip before scoffing and leaning down ever so slightly. His thumb caressing your neck. “Don’t worry, once I fuck this little throat you’ll have every answer you could possibly ask for.” You shudder a little before just nodding your head and opening your mouth. You loll your tongue out and he grins. “Yeah, stay like that.” He slaps his heavy tip on your tongue and you can taste the bitterness of his pre-cum. “Open wider.” You obey him and open your mouth further. He leans forward and spits in your mouth. Your eyes flutter and you press your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed. “You like that?” He laughs and rubs one of his fingers over your tongue. “You like it when I spit in your mouth? Fucking disgusting.” He grips his cock and guides it onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. He groans and holds your head back against the side of his bed before he starts thrusting into your mouth. “Mmm, fuck. Such a good girl with a slutty little mouth. What would your friends say if they knew you’re getting face fucked by your stepbrother, and loving it so much you’re practically dripping onto the floor? What would your mom say?” You really didn’t wanna think about his second question.
“Mmm.” You just hum around his cock in response and he smirked. It’s not like you could actually respond. You kept your eyes on him, loving the way his jaw tightened when he hit the back of your throat. Or the way the muscles in his arms would twitch and flex under his tight shirt. He was right, you did love this and you could feel the discomfort of your sticky panties between your thighs, damp and uncomfortable. His hand went to the top of your head to grip your hair between his fingers and he started pushing in faster.
“Mmh, oh fuck… love sucking on your big brothers cock, yeah? Such a fucking cockwhore it doesn’t matter who it’s from.” He was thrusting at a fervent pace and it was evident he was just chasing his own high. Using your mouth as his personal fleshlight to fuck and fill. It was hot being treated like this, especially by Leon. He tightened his hold on your hair and pushed in a little too far which made you choke. It made slick pour into the gusset of your panties. Fuck, he was right. You’re a total slut. Your hands went up to hold onto his thighs for support as your eyes closed. Spit drooled down your chin and onto your chest, tears poured down your cheeks which Leon took pleasure in wiping away. “Maybe next time you’ll let me fuck that pretty pussy. Bet she’s just crying for me, you are.” ‘Next time?’ The thought made your skin burn with arousal. “Think you’re gonna let me fill up all your holes. Fuck. Yeah, I wanna see that. My obedient little stepsister leaking cum onto my bed, absolutely spent. Such a fucking whore you’d probably ask me to do it again. Fuck your little pussy till it’s sloppy and bred.”
He wasn’t even looking at you. His head tilted back and his hips stuttered. You could tell he was getting close.
“I’m gonna cum down this slutty throat and you’re gonna swallow it all and thank me.” His face and neck were a little red and he had this sheen of sweat that the light from his lamp bounced off of. He looked like some kind of angel and if he wasn’t aggressively fucking your face you might’ve actually believed he was. “Fuck, oh take it.” He moaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat. You could feel his hot cum paint stripes into your mouth. He rutted his tip right against the back of your throat while he moaned and mumbled. “Good girl, good girl. Take it, baby.” He pulled back out of your mouth and looked down at you while he stroked himself a few times to make sure he was done. A little bit of cum spilled from his tip and onto your thigh. You could finally swallow now that he was out of your mouth and god it felt good. You opened your mouth to show him that you really did it.
“Thank you.” You smiled up at him softly and he shuddered at your words. He looked away from you and cursed as his face got red. He was just talking earlier; he didn't think you’d actually do it.
“Quit it, you’re gonna make me hard again.” He seemed a little embarrassed. He moved your hair out of your face and went to the bathroom across the hall. You heard water running for a bit and then he came back and kneeled in front of you. He silently used a warm rag to wipe away the dried tears from your face and the little bit of cum that spilled onto your chin. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” He wiped away the bit that was on your thigh and you guys just stared at each other for a second. It wasn’t really awkward but more like each of you had something to say that you just wouldn’t.
He leaned forward and kissed you. It was soft and sweet and you had plenty of room to move away if you didn’t want it. There was such a contrast from what you were doing now and what you had been doing, hell, how he was acting with you now and how he had always acted with you; it felt like it was short circuiting your brain, but in a good way. He pulled back and set the rag on his bedside table before picking you up and setting you on his bed. He crawled in next to you and put his arms around you. It felt a little weird but in a nice comforting way. It was something you really needed. You almost forgot that you had been sucking him off—if you could even call it that—like two minutes ago. You really weren’t tired but you laid there with him for who knows how long.
Maybe you really didn’t hate having a stepbrother.
#anasanthology#anyas world#anya’s world#leon kennedy#fanfic#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fanfic#stepbro!leon#stepbro!leon Kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#stepcest#leon kennedy x fem reader
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Naked in Manhattan
Summary: Marcus has never slept with a man, Dieter's willing to remedy that - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 3: Sex/kissing Word Count: 7,730 Pairing: (college aged) Marcus Pike x Dieter Bravo Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: coming out, discussions of sexuality, brief mentions of homophobia, oral sex(m), (lots of) hickeys, frottage, cum eating, armpit stuff Betas: OBVIOUSLY @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar the loves of my life 💖A/N: I highly suggest listening to Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan before/while reading this. Totally got the vibes of this entire fic by listening to it on a walk one day
Dieter’s learned a lot in his five and a half years of college. Not really much about statistics or geology, but about people. He’s been around long enough to know that the sad little guy on his front porch steps, avoiding the party, and chain smoking cigarettes is having a rough go of it.
“Hey buddy,” Dieter says, quietly, as not to startle the slumped figure.
Marcus looks up at him through misty eyes and a cloud of stale Winston smoke.
“Hey.”
He’s not crying, but he’s definitely crying for help.
“You okay?”
Dieter takes a seat on the step below him.
��Yeah, fine. Just needed air.”
Marcus gestures with the cigarette in his hand, then huffs out a laugh at the irony.
“You’ve been getting drunk a lot lately.”
Maybe Dieter shouldn’t pry. It’s not unusual for his rented house to be filled with students coming and going at all hours of the day, between classes on weekdays or all day on the weekends. The cheap beer just shows up, as does the weed, and he doesn’t usually question it.
But he’s closer to Marcus. So he notices more. He usually only sees him here on weekends. During the week he’s commonly found in the library or the student union, books sprawled out in front of him. He’s driven, pre-law, and has a better head on his shoulders than most people he hangs with.
But Marcus has been at his place every night this week, either stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning or sleeping late on his couch or floor. It concerns Dieter in a way that surprises him.
Usually it’s none of his business.
“I haven’t had a sip,” Marcus tells him.
And his voice doesn’t have that sharp, defensive tone Dieter was expecting. It’s more defeated than anything.
“Yeah but what about last night?”
Marcus shrugs.
“And the night before? And every other night this week?”
“Just having fun,” Marcus mumbles through another drag of his cigarette.
Dieterlooks around at his empty porch.
“Are you?”
Then Marcus laughs. It bubbles up out of him in an almost terrifying way, and damn near immediately turns into sobs hidden behind his hands.
“Fuck, dude, are you tripping?”
Marcus shakes his head. Dieter didn’t think so. He’s strictly an alcohol guy, won’t even touch weed. Something about the FBI and polygraph tests. Dieter finds it charming if not a bit manic.
He keeps crying though, so hard he has to flick his cigarette out onto the dimly lit street so he can rub at his eyes.
Dieter’s not sure what to do. Normally he’d offer someone drugs, but that won’t work.
His hand hovers over Marcus’ shaking back for a few moments before he rests a heavy palm between his shoulder blades.
He can feel the way Marcus’ breath shudders out of him, and tells him to start taking slow breaths. When it works, Dieter’s kind of amazed at how great he is at damage control.
“That’s it man, just breathe.”
Marcus nods, finally removes his hands from his face. He’s always been pretty in a very preppy way, with his perfect hair and teeth and his little dimples. He looks even prettier now, as much as Dieter kicks himself for that thought. His face is red and wet and his brown eyes are wider than they’ve ever been before.
A few deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth later, Marcus is sufficiently calm enough to speak.
“I’m sorry.”
Dieter waves him off.
“Don’t be. Looks like it felt good, I might have a cry later too.”
Marcus lets out a wet chuckle and shuts his eyes as one last salty little droplet brushes past his long eyelashes.
“Everything okay at home? You’re not failing a class, are you?”
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s stupid.”
“Girl problems?”
Marcus laughs again, and Dieter startles a little, afraid he’s going to start back up sobbing at any moment.
He doesn’t though. He’s quiet and avoiding Dieter’s gaze as he frantically gets another cigarette from his pack and lights it up.
Dieter thinks he’s hit the nail on the head until Marcus takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales.
“I’m fucking gay.”
Dieter opens his mouth in shock, or understanding, or maybe to try and say something, but Marcus continues.
“This whole time I’ve been gay. I don’t even— I’ve had so many girlfriends. I think they’re just nice. I’ve never— I fucking hated sleeping with them. I thought it was because it was awkward, and we’re all inexperienced? It sucked, Dieter. And I thought all guys were curious about other guys, you know? They all talk about their dicks with each other, since middle school. I just thought— and then there’s this guy… in my intro to psych class. And he’s so nice and handsome and I just always want to hang out with him. And I didn’t know why. But I want to kiss him. And I never felt that way about any of my girlfriends. And now I realize I’ve just— I’ve just been gay this whole time.”
He’s out of breath when he quits talking, but he sucks down more of his cigarette anyway. Dieter isn’t quite sure what to say to him. Usually when someone comes out to him, it’s in a less… frantic manner, more proud than anything. But this poor freshman has been on a gay crisis bender all week and is more than a little traumatized by all of it, and it’s just different with Marcus.
“That’s um… Sounds like you’ve been going through a rough time with it.”
Marcus sniffles and nods.
“Been through all five or whatever stages of grief already. It’s been a long week.”
“Are you… Upset? That you’re gay?”
Marcus’ head lolls back to thump against the porch railing.
“No… I’m more upset that I didn't figure it out until now.”
“You’re still plenty young, Marcus. You’re what— nineteen?”
“Eighteen. Skipped a grade.”
Jesus. Dieter feels even worse now about thinking he’s pretty when he cries.
“See? You’re a spring chicken, dude. You figured it out plenty quick.”
“When did you know?”
Dieter chews on his lip, considers lying just for Marcus’ sake, but decides against it.
“I pretty much always knew, honestly. But I mean— I was weird anyway, you know? Never really fit in or felt I had to play a certain part or be a certain way. It just made sense. Also, my dad always said I was as queer as a three dollar bill so… that helped.”
Dieter steals the cigarette between Marcus’ fingers to take a drag himself.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Nothing to be sorry for, man,” Dieter tells him.
Marcus stares at where Dieter’s lips wrap around his cigarette for a bit too long, and Dieter hands it back, if only to try and stop whatever it is that’s bound to happen next.
But Marcus takes another drag himself, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip, and Dieter has never been called strong-willed.
“What’s it like?”
“What?”
“To be with a guy? What’s it like?”
Dieter shrugs.
“Depends on the guy.”
Marcus sighs.
“Are you uh— how do you like… it?”
“Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?”
Marcus’s face flushes a cute color in the yellow of the porch lights.
“Both,” Dieter shrugs, “but I haven’t really done that with a lot of guys. Kind of a hassle, you know?”
Marcus nods, but then his brow quirks up in question.
“What do you mean? What do you— what do you do, then?”
Dieter chuckles.
“All kinds of things, babe.”
He watches Marcus’ breath catch, the little stutter of his chest.
“Would you show me?”
Dieter rolls his eyes to distract them both from the fact that he really, really wants to.
“C’mon, man. You don’t wanna fool around with me. I’m a loser. Go find a pretty finance boy to shack up with.”
Maybe he’s less weak-willed than he thought.
Marcus’ shoulders slump again, and christ, though, is he supposed to just let him leave like a kicked puppy?
“There’s no intro to psych guy.”
It’s quiet, mumbled around his cigarette, and his eyes won’t leave his feet.
“What?”
“It’s you, okay? You’re my— gay awakening, or whatever. Why do you think I’ve been here all week?”
Dieter’s heart is hammering against his chest at that admission. This was not how he figured his Friday night would go.
“Free beer?”
His joke doesn’t land. Marcus rolls his eyes.
“It’s not like… I’m not like in love with you or anything. I just… always wanna see you. And you’re— well, you know. You’re hot. And you’re really nice to everyone. And I get this… I feel so weird when I’m around you, like, nauseous. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Marcus flicks yet another cigarette to the curb and makes to get up, but before Dieter can think better of it, he grips him on the shoulder to keep him seated.
“That’s… actually really sweet, Marcus.”
He scoffs, hides his face in his hands, and it’s so cute Dieter can’t help but smile.
“Really— Usually people just want to fuck me, or use me for drugs.”
Marcus groans a little, mortified, and his hands run back to mess up his pristinely styled hair.
“Buddy, I’m serious. You’re a little charmer.”
Marcus looks up from his lap at that, scratching that neatly buzzed hair on the back of his neck, and his eyes are a little less embarrassed and a little more twinkly.
“You’re just saying that.”
Dieter shakes his head grinning.
“No, it’s cute. Being genuine is never a bad thing.”
And the thing is, Dieter’s not lying. It’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him. But he’s toeing a very very fine line here, with himself. Because Marcus is so pretty, and so smart, and he’s soft and kind and he’s real but he’s young.
And Dieter’s just a Super Super Senior, a total burnout, on his way to holding the world record for The Longest College Career. He’s 23 and he’s still undecided and he probably won’t even get a college degree after all is said and done.
But Marcus is looking at him with those big brown eyes, watching, calculating.
“I just— I feel like you wouldn’t judge me. If I did the wrong thing. You know?”
“I wouldn’t. Anyone who would isn’t worth your time.”
Marcus huffs. Maybe Dieter can still save this.
“Would you… tell me? What you’d do? What I should do?”
And just like that, Dieter is hopping right over that line with both feet.
“Kiss me.”
Marcus’ eyes grow even bigger.
“Like, right now? Here?”
“If you want to. That’s what I’d want you to do, to kiss me right here, like you couldn’t help yourself.”
And Dieter will be damned if he doesn’t do just that, surging forward to grab the sides of his face and press their lips together.
His lips are so soft, and his face is smooth, and he’s eager, a bit too much, but it only adds to that coincidental charm. Dieter’s left to catch up, as Marcus swipes his tongue along the seam of his mouth and groans.
Dieter pulls away. Marcus’ mouth gapes open, and his shoulders heave with his fast breaths.
“You’re so… scruffy.”
Dieter chuckles, wipes Marcus’ spit from his lips and straightens out his mustache.
“Not good?”
“No, god no, it’s really good.”
And then Marcus smashes their lips together again as a pathetic little sound escapes his throat. Dieter opens his mouth this time, lets Marcus slide his tongue around, a little violent, and this is all a bit too much for some front porch steps, isn’t it?
“Hey,” Dieter says softly, pulling away.
Marcus’ brows draw up in confusion.
“Sorry. I’m not a good kisser, am I?”
Dieter sighs, grabs one of Marcus’ hands on his face to link their fingers together.
“It’s not that,” he says.
He turns his face to kiss the center of Marcus’ palm and smiles when his breath hitches.
“You really wanna do this with me?”
Marcus is nodding before Dieter even finishes speaking.
“Only if you really want it, too.”
Dieter squeezes his hand.
“I do, really.”
Marcus smiles the sweetest little smile, and they both stand up, and Dieter doesn’t let his hand go.
There’s music on in the house, and it smells like weed, and a few people are playing Nintendo in the living room. They don’t pay any mind as Dieter pulls Marcus up to the second floor, down the hall, and into his dimly lit bedroom.
At least he’s kept it semi-tidy, he thinks, as Marcus looks around while he shuts and locks the door. His bed isn’t made. He’s sure Marcus makes his bed every morning before class. He hopes he doesn’t mind.
He seems like he’s too nervous to mind, a jittery little thing standing next to his bed. He’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt, staring holes into the stained carpet, when Dieter moves to stand in front of him.
“Are you nervous?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Dieter grabs both of his hands, and Marcus finally meets his gaze.
“It’s okay to be nervous. As long as it’s good nervous.”
He smiles and nods, but the worry in his brow is still there.
“We won’t do anything you don’t wanna do, okay?”
That seems to soothe him more.
“Can we kiss again?”
Dieter chuckles.
“Of course we can.”
Marcus tips over into him, landing at the side of his mouth but quickly correcting course. He licks, but Dieter keeps his mouth shut, goading him to calm down. And he does, slotting his lips around Dieter's bottom one, and everything else slips into place with a soft, satisfied noise from his own chest.
He lets go of Marcus’ sweaty hands to grab his hips instead, lithe and a little bony. He twitches at the touch, sighs, and presses his lips harder into Dieter’s. His hands search around frantically, jostling them both, until he finds the hem of Dieter’s sweatshirt and gets his hands underneath.
“Slow,” Dieter mumbles.
“Hm?”
“Not a race, Marcus. Take your time. Enjoy it.”
Marcus nods, but gapes at him, like he’s not quite sure what to do next.
“You wanna get comfy? Take your shoes off, sit down?”
Marcus nods again, but with a little direction, takes his shoes off and sits on the bed, criss-cross applesauce like the cutest fucking thing Dieter’s ever seen.
“I want this to be— I want you to have a good time, feel good. So tell me if you don’t feel good… or if there’s anything you wanna try. Communication is like, super sexy, right?”
Dieter sheds his shoes and his hoodie as he speaks, thinks he catches Marcus’ eyes staring at the spot between his signature pajama pants and his shirt where it rides up.
“Yeah… like, dirty talk?”
Dieter huffs out a laugh as he sits facing Marcus, crossing his legs, mirroring him to make him as comfortable as possible.
“Could be dirty talk, yeah. But just normal talk, too. It can be hot to talk about things like… how do you like to be touched? Where?”
Marcus clears his throat and scratches the back of his head with a puzzled look on his face.
“My— my dick?”
Dieter wants to laugh, but he can’t blame the guy. It sounds like the only experience he’s had so far is rushed fucks with high school sweethearts.
“Okay, yeah, that’s a good start. So, for me, I like being kissed. Everywhere. I like feeling lips on my jaw and my neck and especially my nipples. You can bite, too.”
Marcus’ eyebrows raise, his plush lips forming a circular shape that Dieter tries and fails not to focus on.
“Oh, yeah, okay. I— I like that too. I like when it’s… sloppy.”
Dieter hums, smiles, and nods.
“Anything else you like?”
He watches Marcus bite his bottom lip and trace shapes on the bedsheets between them.
“I don’t really know.”
“That’s okay. Maybe we can figure it out together, yeah?”
His long eyelashes flutter as he blinks real slow, and he smiles.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
Dieter does chuckle then.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you.”
Christ, Dieter thinks, if his face gets any more red he might burst into flames.
He kisses him, to save him from a fiery death. It’s a little awkward, with both of their legs crossed in front of them, but it’s easier to take their time like this.
Marcus keeps it slow, so Dieter can finally lead. He licks into his mouth to feel his hard palate, and the way he whimpers and shivers in response is so delicious that Dieter can’t help but to do it again and again.
He feels long fingers grip his thighs, soft at first, but squeezing harder when Marcus returns the favor and scrapes his tastebuds along Dieter’s sharp canines.
There’s twin sighs when Marcus pulls away, only a little, eyes still shut.
“You’re really fucking good at this,” he mumbles.
Dieter hums and pecks his lips again, soft and wet.
“Could kiss you all night.”
It’s true, even though there’s also a million other things he wants to do with Marcus. He tries to push those wants down by kissing him again, getting that plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it. The noise Marcus makes has his cock filling steadily with blood, and he knows it’s very obvious in his pajama pants, and he hopes Marcus doesn’t freak out.
Like he’s reading Dieter’s mind, Marcus’ hands slide so fucking slowly up his thighs. The movements are jerky, and he hesitates when just the tip of his finger brushes his cock. His inhale is audible, but his curious touch proceeds, just the lightest ghosting across his shaft.
But then he’s pulling away, and Dieter feels on edge, bracing himself for the worst.
“Can I touch it?”
Dieter exhales his relief.
“You can… Are you open to suggestions, though?”
Marcus nods, his slick mouth hanging open.
“You could get on top of me, let me feel how much you like this, too. Drag it out, make me really want it.”
He smirks as Marcus curses, closing his eyes and pressing his palm to the front of his jeans. But he nods, and uncrosses his legs, so Dieter does the same.
And then, he’s got a lapful of Marcus, and he’s staring up into his glassy, beautiful eyes.
“Like this?”
His hips shift, and his pert little ass grinds against Dieter’s cock while his own presses against his belly.
“Just like that. Is this still okay?”
Marcus doesn’t answer him, just devours his lips again as he rocks his hips and supplies them both with heady friction. His little whimpers are muffled, and his teeth are sinking into Dieter’s lip a little too hard, but in a way that makes his cock throb and pulse against the tight ass against it.
Dieter’s hands find those lithe hips again, this time under his shirt. His skin is scalding to the touch and so fucking smooth. He digs his thumbs into his hip bones, drags little circles into them that make his hips jolt and stutter.
Fuck. He likes this a lot. Maybe too much. He pulls himself away to reel it in a bit, maybe to check and make sure this is still alright—
“I’m so fucking hard,” Marcus breathes, “I’ve never felt like this.”
And as he speaks, he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head and flinging it elsewhere.
He’s gorgeous. A little scrawny but smooth, everywhere, just miles of tan skin that’s paler here where it gets no sun. Dieter wants to bite, and kiss, and suckle on every fucking inch of it.
For now, Dieter uses all of his brain power to mumble a distracted ‘me too,’ as his hands moved upward to splay across all that hairless skin.
Marcus’ stomach tenses and relaxes under his hands, and his chest heaves as Dieter cradles his ribs and brushes his thumbs over his nipples.
“Does this feel good?”
He circles them, flicks them a little bit, and wants to curl up and live in that little gasp Marcus makes.
“Yes.”
His head is leaning back between his shoulders, all raised and on-edge. That’s not what Dieter wants. He wants him relaxed, wants him all gooey and loose.
Slowly, gently, Dieter tips him over, a hand on the back of his head until it lands on the pillows. The look in his eyes gets a little squirrely, and his breath picks up, and his nails scrabble at Dieter’s bicep.
“Is this still okay?”
Marcus nods quickly, but he’s slower with the verbal response.
“I think so… just nervous.”
“Still good nervous?”
As if to prove it, he cants his hips up into Dieter and he’s rock hard against his thigh.
“Still good nervous.”
Dieter’s own prick throbs and twitches as he hums. He lowers himself even more over Marcus, finds his racing pulse point and plants a hot, wet kiss there.
“Can I kiss you here?” he whispers.
His chin brushes Dieter’s cheek when he nods, and Marcus relocates his hands to reach up the back of his shirt. His palms are sweaty and hot as Dieter trails a wet line of kisses down to his prominent collar bone.
His skin is so salty, and the heat from his body is making his cheap cologne smell even stronger, and Dieter feels high even though he hasn’t smoked in hours.
“How about here, Marcus?”
He looks up at the younger man as he hovers his mouth above one tiny, pebbled nipple. He watches as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and smiles and impish grin when Marcus nods again.
The groan he receives when he closes his mouth around it has him pressing his hips to the mattress for relief. One of Marcus’ hands finds Dieter’s hair and grips.
“Ah fuck.”
Just like that, the fingers loosen and leave his head and Dieter actually whines at the loss.
“Sorry!”
“No, no, that was a good fuck. Love getting my hair pulled.”
Dieter glances back up at Marcus and watches as his wheels turn.
“Oh… really?”
He chuckles as he places a sloppy kiss on his sternum, delighted at the way the muscles twitch under his lips.
“Mmmhmm.”
Marcus sighs as Dieter finds his other nipple.
“My ex-girlfriend hated it.”
Dieter nips at the hard bud in his mouth and smirks when Marcus’ hips jolt up.
“I like a little pain with my pleasure,” he explains.
“I— can you bite me again?”
Dieter curses and obliges immediately, sinking his teeth into the meat of his pec this time.
“God, I like that.”
He even earns another tug at his hair, and Dieter knows there’s gotta be a damp spot on the front of his pajamas.
“That’s so good, Marcus. Keep telling me what you like.”
Marcus squirms under him as he alternates a string of kisses and licks and bites down his torso. His nails scratch Dieter’s scalp in between tugging on his hair, and this is the most fun Dieter’s had in the bedroom in a long while.
Marcus has a tiny bit of hair below his belly button, and it’s so fucking cute and whispy when Dieter runs his tongue along the path. But before Dieter can get the fly of his jeans unfastened, Marcus holds a hand over his.
“Can I try on you now?”
Dieter’s gaze flickers up to his face, and he looks so sweet, pleading with his big puppy eyes.
“Yeah, yes, of course you can.”
Marcus smiles, and it’s sure, like he’s finally settled into this, and it makes Dieter’s apprehension fall away.
It also makes him that much more horny, hard as ever when he lies down with his head on the pillows. He reaches down to readjust and watches Marcus clock the movement with a heady look.
“This is good for you, too?”
His voice is breathy when he asks, when his hand slips under Dieter’s t-shirt.
“Marcus, I’m loving this. I feel like a sexy experiment. Poke and prod me, babe.”
And through all of this newness and anxiety and apprehension, Marcus laughs. It’s music to Dieter’s ears, watching his eyes light up as he chuckles.
“Take this off then,” he instructs through his laughter.
“Yes sir,” Dieter purrs, “bossing me around also does it for me. You’re a natural already.”
“Y-yeah? I don’t— I’ve never been like that.”
Dieter fumbles to back track at the way Marcus’ confidence falls away.
“It’s okay, that’s an advanced lesson. My bad. Just— Just do what you want with me. Explore. I’m all yours.”
He talks as he sheds his shirt, and when the damned thing finally pulls free, he feels a little scrutinized under Marcus’s wide eyes. And he kinda really likes it.
He settles back against the mattress, one arm above his head while the other reaches out to encourage Marcus to come closer. He does, only a little timid as his gaze rakes over every inch of his body.
He settles between Dieter’s spread legs, one hand dipping the mattress next to him while the other lands hesitantly on his flank. His warm, sweaty palm feels the skin there, draws upward toward his chest, but takes a completely unconventional detour to his armpit.
Dieter’s cock throbs. This is so fucking weird and so fucking hot.
Marcus’ jaw drops slack as his fingers card through all of his armpit hair, and it tickles a little bit, but mostly it just makes Dieter’s arousal grow heavy in his groin, burning.
Before Dieter can really assess what’s going on, or encourage him, or tell him how fucking hard he’s making him, Marcus leans down to capture his lips in his own.
Dieter groans and scrabbles to grip his waist, arching his hips for any relief and finding it against the front of Marcus’ jeans, a hard line wrapped in denim that twitches against his own. He moans, low and long, as he twirls the thick hair between his finger and thumb.
And then his hand is gone, and Dieter’s quite disappointed, but he can’t just say that, can he? He weighs the pros and cons of telling Marcus not to stop as the other man trails his lips down the patchy stubble on his jaw, and bites the sensitive skin on his neck.
Maybe he should tell him. That’s a good lesson, right? How to take feedback, good or bad. But ‘hey keep stroking my armpit hair’ is a bit startling, isn’t it?
He’s so distracted by the inner turmoil that he doesn’t realize the path Marcus’ has taken until hot breath ghosts that bit of fat between his tit and armpit and then he sniffs, and groans, and licks up all the hair while he presses his cock down into Dieter’s own and Jesus Fuck—
He quickly finds purchase in Marcus’ hair and curses, grinds his hips back up into him with what he hopes is encouraging words. But forgive him if his brain is a little bit completely scrambled.
Marcus bites just under his patch of armpit hair, burying his nose in it once more, and these primal sounds he makes are vibrating through Dieter’s chest. All he can do at this point is lie back and take it and succumb to the fact that this is definitely altering his brain chemistry for the rest of his life.
It all stops rather abruptly, though, and two hot hands grab Dieter’s hips hard, pushes them down into the mattress as Marcus arches away from him.
“I might— I might come.”
Dieter blinks his bleary eyes open to look at the panicked man, who’s squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip.
“It’s okay if you do. You can have me all night.”
“Fuck— Shut up, Jesus Christ.”
Dieter huffs, scratches at his wet armpit, and patiently waits for Marcus to settle down. He could probably come that way too, to be honest, with that pretty boy’s tongue lapping at his underarm and their cocks grinding together.
Marcus’ eyelashes flutter open, and Dieter smiles at him softly, careful not to move or touch. He looks like a hair trigger, sweaty and panting already, with a really fucking hot damp patch soaking through the crotch of his jeans.
“Sorry. I think I’m good— wait, sorry, was that weird?”
Dieter allows himself to place one of his hands on Marcus’ own, where it’s still gripping tight to his hip bone.
“It was weird in the hottest way possible.”
Marcus shakes his head at himself and closes his eyes again.
“I’m dead serious. I didn’t know how sensitive I was there. You’re teaching me things. That’s super hot.”
Marcus sighs.
“It’s just… I like the hair. And your deodorant smells nice.”
He pries his eyes open, like he expects Dieter to be disgusted, but his confession only makes his cock jump very prominently in his pajamas.
“Doesn’t taste very good, though.”
And now Dieter is laughing, and tugging Marcus back down, mumbling ‘prove it’ and shoving his tongue into his offensively chemical-flavored mouth.
It’s okay though, he just licks and licks until the taste has dissipated and Marcus is letting go of the death grip on his sides. His mouth follows a much more predictable route, this time, and Dieter watches his every move as those pretty lips wrap around his nipples, one and then the other, until he’s biting and Dieter is whimpering and asking for more.
“You can leave marks. I like ‘em.”
Marcus curses against his sternum and obeys, so fucking obedient, suckling Dieter’s skin and rolling it between his teeth. Looking up at him, his eyes look so determined, all dark and heavy, especially when he pulls away to admire the bruise he’s left.
“More. Want to see you all over me in the morning.”
“Fuck, Dieter. How’d you get so good at— at talking like that?”
Dieter chuckles, then hisses when Marcus sucks the skin on his belly into the sharp edges of his teeth. He’s looking up with an expectant quirk of his brow.
“I just say what’s on my mind,” he answers.
Marcus hums, and Dieter places his hand on his jaw to feel it working, a third mark blooming bright red on his hip.
“What’s on your mind?” He asks.
A fourth mark, this one deeper than the rest, right above the waistband of his pants, as Marcus thinks.
“I want your cock in my mouth.”
Said cock jerks wildly, disrupting the tent in his pajamas, and Marcus has the audacity to smirk. Dieter lets his thumb trace that wet, swollen bottom lip and doesn’t miss the little whine that Marcus tries to hide.
“Will you teach me?”
It’s now that Dieter realizes he’s created an absolute monster, with Marcus looking up at him all wide-eyed, batting those long eyelashes. He knows what he’s doing, and it just makes it all so much worse. Or better. Both, really.
He clears his throat to try to gather his bearings before he speaks.
“Yeah, I’ll teach you. Pull it out for me.”
Dieter watches as his breath hitches, and he eyes the tent in Dieter’s pants with an array of emotions washing over his features. There’s hesitation for sure, as he toys with his waistband. But he’s licking his lips, and taking a big deep breath as he tugs them down Dieter’s thighs.
And then he’s staring at his cock, swaying in the breeze, and Dieter thinks this would be much less intense if penises weren’t so offensive and in your face.
“Pretty,” Marcus mumbles, and it makes him giggle.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s— I like it.”
“Thank you. That’s very sweet.”
Marcus rolls his eyes but smiles.
“I can touch it?”
“Yeah, of course. Anything you want. Go at your own pace.”
Maybe it’s cliche, but as soon as Marcus’ hand wraps around his cock, Dieter is done for. Fuck, it feels so good, the way his movements are gentle and calculated, the way he’s being so attentive for his first time, exploratory. His free hand cradles Dieter’s sac, his thumb tracing the seam, and it’s alarming how close this is getting him. It’s so intimate, and genuine, and it’s so hot that he gets to be here for Marcus’ first time.
Marcus squeezes him tight and strokes, once, from base to tip. He thumbs at his frenulum, slippery with pre come, then lifts that to his lips. It’s like slow motion when he watches him poke his tongue out to taste, and he closes his eyes and hums.
“Better than the deodorant, for sure.”
And Dieter’s cock bobs as he laughs.
“That’s a relief.”
“I’ve never tasted my own before,” Marcus says.
“No?”
“Mm-mm. Seemed… gay.”
And he laughs at himself, but his face inches closer, and in an instant his tongue is flicking out to lap up more of it, straight from the source.
Dieter gasps at the contact, so sudden. His taste buds are rough against his slit, in a good way, and he has to cradle Marcus’ neck to reel himself in.
“That’s so good,” he whispers, “keep doing that.”
And he does, little kitten licks to the sensitive head of his cock, looking up at him from under those long eyelashes. Dieter groans and closes his eyes because if Marcus keeps looking at him like that, he will come before he can have any fun with him.
Then, in an instant, he’s completely enveloped by warmth and wetness, too fast, and he opens his eyes at the same time Marcus gags and coughs and pulls off of him.
“Jesus, Marcus, take it slow.”
He coughs more, with brow all furrowed and frustrated, and Dieter smooths his hair off of his forehead.
“Are you alright?”
Marcus clears his throat as he nods.
“Yeah, sorry, I can’t— I thought that would be easier.”
Dieter huffs, sits up a bit and leans on his elbow so he can see him better. His eyes are watery and not in a sexy way this time. He pets Marcus’ hair a bit, hoping to soothe him, but the redness doesn’t fade from his cheeks.
“You don’t have to take it all, that’s no fun, choking like that,” he says, “are you sure you’re okay? We can stop.”
“No! No— I don’t wanna stop. I’m just embarrassed.”
God, he’s so fucking sweet.
“Don’t be embarrassed. We’ve all been there. I threw up on the first dick I sucked.”
“Gross, dude.”
“I’m just saying, it could be way worse. Nothing to even be embarrassed about.”
Marcus sighs and hides his face in the crease of Dieter’s hip.
“Seriously, I’m still so hard I could shatter diamonds. You’re so fucking hot, it doesn’t matter if you choke a little.”
He feels Marcus’ teeth on the skin of his hip before he sees his jaw moving. He bites and sucks and it’s another beautiful piece of him he’ll get to take from this experience.
“That’s it. It’s all about the recovery. Fuck, Marcus, your mouth feels so good on me. Everywhere.”
Dieter lifts his hips up to encourage him to bite more, mark him up all over. He follows eagerly, until there’s little love bites scattered across the thin skin over his hip bone and his cock is weeping for attention.
Marcus looks up at him, finally, as he hovers just above his prick.
“Can I try again?”
Dieter hums and cards his fingers through his thick brown hair.
“Play until you win, babe.”
He’s much more careful, this time. He takes the head into his mouth and sucks, lets his tongue lather and swirl around it as his hand keeps his dick in place. He’s gorgeous, with his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes shut in concentration.
“Yeah, just like that, fucking perfect.”
Marcus whimpers around his cock, and drool is starting to leak from the corners of his mouth and drip down Dieter’s shaft.
“Move your hand a bit, jerk me off while you suck on it.”
He follows the direction so well, letting his hand draw up to meet his lips, then back down, over and over, and Dieter can feel his gut growing hot and tight. His tongue is working him relentlessly, and he’s never really had a partner use theirs so much, but the frantic swirling and flicking has his head spinning.
“You’re amazing,” Dieter breathes, “making me feel so good.”
At the encouragement, Marcus braves another inch of his cock. He starts to bob his head up and down, following his lips with his fist, and the breaths through his nose get heavier. Dieter babbles a bit, just encouraging words as Marcus works him dutifully, trying with all his might not to thrust up into his hot, sloppy mouth.
But then Marcus looks up at him with his pretty brown eyes and groans around the cock in his mouth and it’s too much.
“Fuck— fuck, Marcus, let me go.”
Marcus does, as quickly as he can, panting when his mouth is finally free.
“What’s wrong?”
Dieter huffs.
“Nothing, you’re perfect, gorgeous, beautiful. I just don’t wanna come yet.”
“Oh.”
The little cock drunk smile he gets is too cute, and Dieter tugs lightly on his hair to get him to crawl back up for a kiss. He tastes like pre-cum, and his nails bite into the heated skin of Marcus’ back for purchase.
“How are you feeling? Still gay?”
Marcus laughs against his lips.
“The gayest I’ve ever been.”
Dieter collapses back on the pillows to look up at him.
“Really though, are you still into this?”
Marcus nods, presses his hips into Dieter’s thigh to swipe away any last remaining doubt.
“Alright, next and final lesson. Get those tight little jeans off.”
He’s so quick to obey, and Dieter tries not to gawk at how much bigger that wet spot has grown just below his fly. He shakes himself out of it and gets his pajama pants completely off his legs.
Marcus is so fucking hot, jesus, Dieter feels like he’s pushing his luck having him here in his bed. So lean and long, and his cock is uncut and curves a bit to the left, and he’s still so hard.
“Get beside me, face me.”
And Marcus looks right at home like this, laid out in his bed, with his bicep bulging from propping his head up on his hand.
“What’s the lesson?”
Dieter smirks at the eagerness.
“I’m gonna jerk us off together.”
Marcus raises his brow.
“Like, at the same time?”
Dieter hums his affirmative, reaches a tentative hand out to cup Marcus’ pert little asscheek, and chuckles when he twitches.
“Don’t worry, we’ll save that for another time. If you want.”
“Shit, yeah, okay.”
And isn’t that gonna be fun? The thought makes Dieter’s cock throb and jerk and he shuffles to close the distance so their pricks line up together.
“Is this okay? Like this?”
He looks up from their cocks to watch Marcus’ jaw go slack.
“Oh god, ‘m not gonna last at all.”
Even as he says it, he’s wrapping his own hand around both of them and squeezing, groaning at the feeling and bucking his hips so they slide together.
“I don’t want you to last, I want you to feel good.”
Dieter lets his hand join the fun, covering what Marcus can’t, and his cock jumps in their combined hold when Marcus whines.
“I do, I— fuck, I really do.”
“Kiss me?”
He’s cut off by Marcus’ lips, all swollen and hot against his own. Marcus moans as soon as their tongues meet, and he starts shaking like a leaf. His hand squeezes harder around their pricks, works them faster, and Dieter can feel each and every twitch of his dripping cock.
He’s so frantic with it. His breathing whistles fast through his nose, panting into his mouth, and every other exhale is a desperate little noise. It only takes a few dozen strokes for Marcus to fall apart.
“Gonna come— I’m coming, Dieter—”
He gasps as it washes over him. Dieter feels his hot, sticky cum splash over his own hand and his cock and his stomach. Marcus hides his face in the crook of Dieter’s neck and bites as it courses through him. It sends a hot white spark down his spine, and what little filter he’d maintained throughout the night completely short-circuits.
“Shit, that’s it. So fucking good, coming all over me— Fuck, Marcus, you’re hot when you come. You feel so fucking good.”
Marcus whimpers through his aftershocks as Dieter fills his ears with whatever filth he can muster. When it’s too much, and Marcus has to slide his spent cock from their joined hands, he doesn’t let go of Dieter. He helps, with the slick aid of his cum, and Dieter topples over the edge with a growl and Marcus sucks another mark into his overheated skin.
It’s blinding, it’s his favorite orgasm he’s ever had for sure. Marcus gasps when the first streak of his spend shoots all over his smooth stomach.
“Fuck yes,” he sighs, exerted but intrigued as Dieter fucks their fists.
His cum mixes with the stains Marcus already left on his blanket, slowing to a trickle just as Marcus’ grasp loosens. Even when he’s empty, Dieter can still feel the orgasm buzzing through his body as he tries to regain his breath.
Marcus finally looks up from the scene of the crime and Dieter wants to take a picture of the fucked-out look on his face, his messy hair, his spit-slick lips and flushed face. But he can’t, so he kisses him instead, closing his eyes so maybe he can burn that image into his memory for eternity.
It’s lazy, so much slower and softer than the way Marcus kissed when he was all keyed up.
Shit.
Dieter’s in for it. He’s always had an addictive personality, and having Marcus in his bed has been stronger than any fucking drug he’s tried before.
He whimpers when Marcus pulls away, chasing his lips just for a moment before he reels himself back in.
He looks down at the mess he’s going to promptly ignore, thinks about how far away the bathroom closet is with all the towels. But then one slender finger is swiping through the cum puddle between them, and lifting to his face, and Dieter devours.
Marcus chuckles at the desperate noise Dieter makes as he swirls his tongue around to lick up every last drop.
“How do we taste together?”
Goddamn, Marcus is much more suave after an orgasm.
“Like we were made for each other.”
Christ, he needs to get himself together. His brain is just so fucking fuzzy and light.
Marcus doesn’t run for the hills, though. He giggles, and dips that same finger into their mess again. He brings it up to his own lips this time, sucking it inside his mouth and pulling it out clean.
There’s a slight grimace as he rolls it around in his mouth.
“Not as sweet as you were earlier.”
And Dieter laughs, brushes his two cleanest knuckles against the skin of Marcus’ hip.
“It’s an acquired taste.”
Marcus nods, and looks down between them, and some of that lightness in his features fizzles out.
“Hang on— here, use these.”
Dieter hands him his discarded pajama pants, and they use one leg each to tidy up their hands and stomachs and cocks. Then Dieter balls them up to swipe at his sticky blanket as best as he can. And it’s all so quiet, as their breathing has evened out, and fuck, what if Marcus has some crazy post-nut clarity after this… heavy situation?
He’s staring at the bedroom door when Dieter looks up to face him.
“Should I uh… go… now?”
Dieter sighs and finally gets his freshly wiped hand on Marcus’ skin, colder now where all the sweat has cooled.
“Personally, I would like it if you stayed. Cuddling after sex is… well, I like it a lot. Some people don’t… it’s okay if you don’t. Whatever you’re comfortable with. This was probably a lot for y—”
Marcus cuts off his rambling— thank god— by burrowing his face in Dieter’s chest and tangling their naked legs together. They both release two huge twin sighs, and Dieter’s instantly soothed by the weight against him, and the lithe fingers stroking his back.
Dieter can’t help it, he tucks his chin and plants a kiss to the crown of Marcus’ head. He drowns in the scent of sweat and cheap shampoo and feels so grounded for the first time in a very long time.
Marcus hums, and Dieter pulls him in tighter, swipes his palm over the curve of his tiny asscheek.
He clears his throat.
“I don’t have any plans tomorrow…”
Marcus lifts his head, and he looks so sleepy but so satisfied.
“So we can stay up all night? You can— could you show me more things?”
Dieter chuckles and kisses his lips to hide how relieved he feels.
“Was gonna see if you wanted to catch a movie or something. But I think I like your idea better.”
“Oh— a movie sounds good! I mean, it would be chill.”
Dieter huffs.
“Split the difference, we’ll watch a movie here while I eat your cute little ass?”
Dieter actually feels his limp cock twitch against his thigh, and tries to hold back a self-satisfied smirk.
“Yep. Yeah, let’s do that instead.”
Dieter kisses him, this time just because he can.
“Get some sleep first, okay? I’ll be right here.”
The look of comfort on Marcus’ face makes his chest burn and ache. His droopy eyelids close as he smiles, and his head drops to Dieter’s splayed out arm.
He just watches, for a little while. Lets himself count the deep, even breaths Marcus takes and feels them on the skin of his bicep.
His arm is gonna go numb in about two minutes tops, and he’ll cherish every pinprick until he drifts off.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#marcus pike#marcus pike fanfiction#dieter bravo#dieter bravo fanfiction#marcus pike x dieter bravo#OscarPedroPrideEvent2024
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I think doing a poly! Plastic (fem reader)where they’re dating reader and Cady moves to the school and has a crush on reader! The reader is oblivious but the plastics notice! Maybe reader starts spending more time with Cady and the plastics do something bout it!
Just an Hour
|| poly!plastics x fem!reader
|| Warnings; swearing, little Cady x reader, Regina fighting with reader, Regina being controlling, arguments, Cady has a crush on reader but reader's oblivious, more Regina focused, angst/hurt
|| Summary; reader and Cady are parents for a project; reader loses track of time and Regina finally has enough.
Requests open!
Started; october 20th
Finished; october 20th
Reblogs, comments and likes all really help and are very much appreciated! Thank you if you do🫶
~~~
It's been well into the new school year, you've been best friends with Cady for about a month now. Much to your girlfriends displeasure. They didn't like how close you and Cady have been getting, all your little inside jokes together, how you had more classes with her than them, everything. It was even starting to bother Karen, who was the least jealous type out of the three. But you remained oblivious to it all. You didn't notice how Cady stole glances at you whenever you weren't looking. How she seemed to be more clingy with you than everyone else. How she laughed at your jokes, even the bad ones. How she 'needed' your help with studying despite having been doing just fine before you. You didn't notice any of the little signs. But your girlfriends did. They've had enough.
It was sixth period study hall and you and Cady were spending it in the library, working on a science project together. Your project had been to make a poster board highlighting some part of space that wasn't as well known as others. The two of you had chosen the Tabby Star for your research assignment. Making notes about the facts as well as the theories, because there were a lot of interesting ones.
"Wouldn't it be crazy if the Tabby Star did actually have alien structures around it?" You said, reading one of the theories about why the brightest of the star changes.
"It would be kinda cool," Cady easily agreed, looking over your shoulder to read the shared computer. Cady was working on the hand written notes while you covered the research part. Every so often the two of you would switch roles to give the other a break in their task. Your project was going pretty smoothly and you were confident the two of you would land at least an A.
When the day was over, the two of you packed up your stuff. With Cady taking the project home; you trusted her more than yourself with it. Knowing it would probably get damaged at your place.
"Work on it again tomorrow in study hall?" You asked, she gave you a nod and smiled.
"Yes, totally! Maybe you could even come over for a bit tonight to work on it?" She took the leap, her heart racing as she asked.
"Oh, I can't tonight. I have a thing with my girlfriends." You did, so that wasn't a lie to get out of it. And you knew how your girlfriends would act if you blew them off for someone else.
"What about for just an hour?" Cady asked. You bit your lip in hesitation. An hour wouldn't be bad, right? You'd still have plenty of time for your girls.
"Okay, yeah. Just an hour." You weren't exactly good at saying no to people, especially not those you considered friends.
So you went to Cady's after school, the two of you working in her dining room. Laughing and making jokes as you worked on your project. You didn't notice the time fly, or the multitude of texts from the group chat with your girlfriends. Who were wondering where you were. Regina decided to take matters into her own hands and switch over to snapchat, looking at your location. Cady's house? The fuck were you doing there? She glanced at Gretchen and Karen.
"Come on, we're going to Cady's." Regina stated, heading out to her jeep. The two girls quickly followed. Regina drove pretty quickly, not wanting to waste time by following laws. Though she hardly follows speeding rules anyways. Which has landed her a few tickets.
When they got to Cady's, Regina walked right in and saw you laughing at one of Cady's jokes. Only to stop when you noticed Regina, eyes going a little wide.
"Regina- shit. What time is it?" You asked, glancing at the clock and realizing its been well over an hour.
Gretchen and Karen came up behind her, holding each other's hands.
Regina went to you and grabbed your hand, pulling you from your seat as you grabbed your phone from the table." Let's go, Cady can do the rest on her own. Right, Cady?" She faked a smile to her. Though internally she was pissed. You gave Cady an apologetic look as Regina practically dragged you to the jeep. When she got you in the passenger seat, she turned to look at you." What the hell, Y/N?"
"I know- I'm sorry, I totally meant to only be there an hour but we got focused on the project and I lost track of time." You explained, Regina's hand gripped the wheel.
"Ugh. You're not allowed to hang out with her anymore." Regina said, she tended to be controlling over things. Especially things like this.
"Huh?" You were confused.
"Are you that oblivious?" Regina glared at you," she has a crush on you!"
Gretchen and Karen stayed quiet, knowing Regina would probably get annoyed if they said anything right now. They share a glance with each other.
"What?" You blinked. You really hadn't noticed, but now that she said that it was kind of obvious. How were you that oblivious?
Regina sighed," she's literally obsessed with you. How can you not fucking see that?" Her hand hit the steering wheel, clearly more than frustrated with you.
"Okay- okay.." You flinched as you watched her hand and sighed, glancing at Gretchen and Karen for help. Gretchen just silently but subtly shook her head.
"Don't look at them, look at me." Regina grabbed your chin, turning your attention to her." Break off whatever friendship you have with Cady."
You frowned as you looked into the blonde's eyes, Regina wasn't going to leave the driveway until this was settled." Okay... but can I at least get this last project done with her?" You asked slowly, treading carefully.
"Fine. But you're ours tonight and Cady can go fuck herself." Regina huffed, you figured she was at least a little satisfied with your answer because she finally started up her jeep and left the driveway.
That was the last time you would ever go to Cady's house.
#fanfic#x reader#canon x reader#fem reader#wlw fiction#mean girls#mean girls x reader#regina george#regina george x fem!reader#regina x fem reader#regina george x reader#regina x reader#regina x gretchen#jealous regina#gretchen wieners x fem!reader#gretchen wieners x reader#gretchen x reader#regina x gretchen x karen#karen x gretchen#karen shetty x reader#karen shetty#karen x reader#regina x karen#poly!plastics x reader#poly!plasticsverse#poly!plastics#agnst#hurt
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1 AM ramble but someone just pointed out to me you can see zooble's room in their pin wrapping background
not only do we get to see what their room looks like, we also get an official look of the zooble box, and a mirror for them to look at themself. now I think this might be important. pomni had a scene in ep 1 where she looks at the mirror in disbelief that she looks like that now, and we know zooble changes their parts every day. I think caine did that to "help" zooble with figuring out their gender identity, which maybe or not be helping, considering what I hear of people experiencing gender dysphoria not liking to see themselves in the mirror.
and I do think the mirror is important, we get to see a little bit of the others' bedrooms as well, kaufmo, ragatha and gangle's, and none of them have mirrors from what I can see. maybe caine noticed pomni looking in the mirror and thought pomni might want one in her room just like zooble, not realizing pomni probably hates to look in the mirror and not see herself
also lets look at the other characters bedrooms
ragatha seems to be very tidy (assuming everyone has to clean up their rooms and considering how messy pomni's room is) and not have that much stuff. a box of toys that she might or not play with considering its positioned as a seat for the piano. we dont know if she knows how to play (according to goose she knows the cello, so she could know the piano as well) and having so little fingers in her hand might actually not let her play the piano properly. caine could have just heard she likes music and put a piano in her room. also notice the piano is in the middle of the room taking center stage and we cant see a bed (yet). ragatha has mentioned nobody needs to sleep even though they can. do you think she (tries to) play the piano at night while everyone else assumedly sleeps? there is a song sheet at the piano but I cant read if it has an actual song name written on it.
also she has a shelf full of things that might be of her interest or template things caine put there. like balls of yarn, books, a gloink (how did she have a gloink before ep 1?) and a framed picture, which if it has an actual photo of someone there could open up a lot of theories to who is there. also the gloink being there points to either ragatha having already lived through a gloink adventure and keeping one in her room or keeping one after an adventure where she was hurt by kaufmo and abandoned by pomni. why would she want to keep it if thats the case?
gangle's room is very dark with black walls. we cant see much but I believe she is in a really deeper depression than pomni. I believe to the point where she doesnt have the energy to try to escape, just mask as much as she can before her happy mask is broken again, poor gangle :/
we dont get to see kinger or jax's room, even though I think there is a kinger door in the corridor. maybe kinger is too paranoid to sleep in his room. jax's only shows his door with the void breaking into view. maybe we wont get to see his room until the very end. also I remember there was a theory jax knows where the exit is, but doesnt leave. I dont think its true considering goose said jax deserves to be stuck in the circus, implying he cant leave just like everyone, but since he "has keys to everywhere", what if he has been to the void without caine knowing? pomni never made it through the end but if jax did, maybe what he saw there pushed him to be how he is now. maybe he doesnt see hope in escaping and thats why he turns into such a bad person, he could be a nihilist in that way
anyway sorry for the long post, I just had a bunch of ideas popping up in my head from this little detail I should have noticed when pomni's pin was released
not only do we get to see her room but we also see the blocks spelling CBA, not sure if the B is supposed to count or not but its the second time pomni is associated with C&A, I do believe she was an employee there
#the amazing digital circus#tadc#ramble#long post#tadc theory#tadc merch#pomni#kinger#ragatha#jax#zooble#bedroom#pin#tadc lore
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why i think aradia and john work so well
(with some stuff i’ve been wanting to yap about for ages)
have you guys ever given arajohn / johnradia (idk if its popular enough to even have a standardized ship name) any thought …? i know it seems kind of out of left field. i’ve considered it and i think its. really really good. i have a bunch of thoughts to unpack. come join me. and maybe grab a snack or something because i didn’t realize how much i'd actually have to say about this
(fantastic art by skeletood)
the other day i made a tweet that did rather well where i said, “john and aradia shouldve talked more. its so simple but i like how she actually earnestly answers his questions. so many characters in this comic are so mean to john for just wanting to know more give him a break”
putting it out there now im not big about shipping for the sake of shipping. there needs to be real chemistry. i need to sense that as a reason why two characters would potentially be a good influence on each other. i never knew why i was always so obstinate about this because it’s fictional and not materially hurting anyone, but i think it might be because i’m not sure how to justify it or explain it if not.
i strongly believe john and aradia would have had it made out for them if circumstances allowed it. (what i mean by “ship” or “johnradia” extends to any kind of interpersonal dynamic, even if just a good friendship. it doesnt even have to be romantic, just some sort of dynamic with them.)
unfortunately aradia originally committed herself to staying out of trolling the kids over their timelines, so john and aradia never talked until year 3 on the ship in the dream bubbles but they never had a truly proper one-on-one without outside meddling. i think if john knew aradia better and her story beforehand, she had more time to explain herself and her history, he wouldnt have been unsettled. and also of course if his experience with the trolls didn’t suck so bad because he already had expectations for how antagonizing most of them were.
i found people’s sentiments about johnradia elsewhere too. i remembered that they were both on the song art for ascend, and searched ao3 to see how many fics have been written to gauge how substaintial it’s been in the homestuck fandom. only 17 of them turned up. but the people who do talk about it are either curious about it or really do like it, and that interested me.
clearly it’s pretty niche character relationship to be depicted in any fanwork and i can understand why. despite being so small, from what ive seen it seems universally agreed upon to be nice. i haven’t seen a single person object to it. what ive seen falls into two categories: “wow i didnt think about this before but i actually dig it” or “(starving) finally some good fucking food”
the pattern im seeing is that people think it’s “random”, but i disagree. there is something there substantiating it even if they’re unable to articulate it.
the fanfic these comments are from is chronology of wind. that fic is really, really good, and sadly unfinished. i have more abstract reasons to believe why aradia and john would be good in theory, so actually seeing someone else actually make something with them helped me read it in action, to get a more tangible feel of the dynamic beyond what we have in canon.
i wouldn’t normally make claims about a relationship with regard to homestuck canon by looking at their relationship in a fanfic, because i think you all know by now i am very nitpicky about accurate characterization, and it does not go unnoticed by me when people get it right because for some reason it feels like a one in a million thing (even though it really shouldn’t be?). so this was a special case. the tone was completely consistent with canon. this fic is so in-character i’d basically consider it an extension of canon. to me it’s like they took the same characters and plopped them into this scenario to see how they’d interact. guys… i love that stuff so much. i love fanfiction or fanworks that depict realistic extensions of canon and stays true to the energy and tone of the source, but deepens it. there isn’t enough of it imo. i want to see more of it.
anyway, what i read of their conversations in that fic basically aligned with what i was thinking in my head about what i’d expect it to be like. i was able to compare how aradia and john talked to how aradia and the other characters interacted, their comparative attitudes towards each other—how they’re treated by others compared to how they treat each other.
have you noticed john and aradia’s communication values are both based on sincerity, being in the proper know, treating people fairly, and thanklessly taking on the necessary work that “must be done” in order to have what they really want — a good time that feels meaningful? and they accomplish this without any adjustment in how they talk to each other.
john is always subtly (or not-so-subtly) asking the people around him to answer him soberly and to the point so he knows whats going on and what that means for what his options are. he needs to know to what end he will be applying his absurd energetic drive into making shit happen. aradia honors his time before john can even become uncomfortable with the amount of time being eaten up by conversation. contrast this with rose, who seems to go on for a while with prose-like conversational adornments. in dire situations that need rapid explanation and definitive answers so he knows what to do, this is really the last thing he needs. aradia doesnt waste john’s time. she answers all his questions, and does it politely to boot. his time talking to her doesn't feel wasted.
john's impatience with this sort of nonsense is also why i can’t see something like dirkjohn working out, for example. to me it feels like @entropicbias also deeply understands this on some level because i literally couldn’t have demonstrated what i mean by it any better myself than that. i'm gonna have to to hit him up about how much i genuinely respect that like tbh hes one of the few i absolutely trust to handle writing and depicting these characters in situations and their interpersonal dynamics. and also care about doing their characterization justice as much as me.
of course people are still entitled to like whatever they like, ship whatever they want to. i dont care. but i just don’t think it would work from the perspective of the minds of the canon characters, how they generally think and approach situations. and i can already tell people might ask me how do i know this? what makes me an expert? i’m not more than anyone else is (although i have been called a "characterization expert" from my friends), but i do know that i can pick up on the energetic chemistry between people, including characters, honestly precognitively, without even thinking? like if it’s stiff or tense or awkward, if people aren’t free to express themselves uninhibitedly, if they feel unsafe or uncomfortable. i can sense this almost instantly. it’s something that’s a visceral feeling in my body i cant express and i have to rationalize it after the fact. like i’m doing now in fact writing this big analysis.
> listen to me talk about my special interest boy
for the next section to make sense, you probably want to read this post. i initially started writing it within this post to explain but there was so much brewing i had to explain the context that it turned into something i wanted to post on its own terms.
> okaaaaaayyyyy i read all that
thank you, really. my main point is using the conceptual tools provided by this system to expIain why aradia and john feel nice together and why i’ve seen people positively perceive the idea of a relationship between them even if it seems “random”.
framing them in this system, it wouldn’t be random! there’s a good reason they seem to fit nicely. this is because john and aradia have complementary forms of information metabolism. information metabolism is talked about in this section.
Jung’s psychic types are the types of cognition, or intelligence. But it would probably be easiest to call them types of IM [information metabolism], since the main difference between the types of people lies in their exchange of information with the external world.
Aushra Augusta, Commentary on Jung’s Typology and Introduction to Information Metabolism
aradia megido’s type of information metabolism (otherwise known as a TIM) is LII. john egbert’s TIM is ESE.
aradia and john’s types are duals. you can read more about what that entails here. in theory, their interactions would reflect the duality dynamic. reading chronology of wind, that one really in-character fic that explored their dynamic made me excited because they do!
michael pierce gave an overview of his impression of the characteristics of this intertype dynamic. despite only rough knowledge in socionics while he wrote this, his understanding of duality was spot on to me from my experience and others and i wanted to share it here. (fittingly, i believe he is also LII.)
Now we have the famous duality relationship: in a nutshell, this role is characterized by two traits: 1) a very close psychological distance or intimacy, and 2) a great ease of interacting with each other. It is sometimes described how meeting one's dual can be the event of a lifetime, because it inspires aspects in each party's character that they had never expressed before: the pair may even drop out of society for a time in order to focus on just each other, and to explore themselves through interaction with each other. The curious thing in this relationship is that these parties are rather different in outlook, and when they are not actually interacting as potential friends it's probably more likely for them to dislike or mistrust each other because of how different they are. […] However, when they are able to interact normally, it is a strange and wonderful discovery to realize that the interaction is unexpectedly smooth and invigorating. It's hard for people to describe, but as I understand it: while both parties recognize their differences on the surface, these differences are created by a root structure that coincides perfectly with each other, so that the differences on the surface are entirely complementary and cause no friction at all.
it’s also meaningful to consider that the structure of my own psyche is LII as well. so i’ve got a bit of a bias towards aradia and john.. not in the sense that what i actually say about them is personally biased, but that the bias is moreso my personal attention to people and characters of these two types in particular to see how my own experiences are reflected in them. i really do feel of a reflection of my own thought and work process in aradia and in the more abstract sense she is like an extension of myself. when people say they like aradia as a character i get secondhand joy from that because shares certain specific traits with me. of course i am still my own person though.
these are some of the most apt profiles i've found for these types at a glance. again, think about these characters as you read these descriptions. [from here (ESE / LII)]
ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert) - john
The trademark quality of this type is a focus on socializing and guiding social situations and interactions so that the people involved can have fun and enjoy themselves. ESEs are typically in the middle of what is happening socially and know about the latest events and what people think and feel about them. They are skilled at bringing people together in fun and interesting ways and making everyone feel actively involved. Their friends know them as people who love life and feel most at home in social situations surrounded by other fun people. In their pursuit of fun-oriented and stimulating social interactions, ESEs typically neglect to structure their own thought processes and views in a way that would help them know exactly what they think and why. They are receptive to others’ attempts to help them introduce more structure and logical consistency in their life and thinking processes. They gravitate most to people who open up to fun and emotional interaction easily, yet are also skilled at systematizing thoughts and views and explaining ideological matters.
LII (Logical-intuitive introvert) - aradia
The trademark quality of this type is a focus on logical, structured thought and generating true assertions and views. LIIs are typically strict thinkers who are concerned that everything fits together in a logical way. They are skilled at understanding, generating, and criticizing logical arguments and instilling their views in the people around them. Their friends know them as people with well-organized thoughts and opinions who know what they think and can elucidate their ideas to others. In their pursuit of logical understanding, LIIs typically neglect their external social interactions and activities that would help them lighten up and experience a connection with other people. They are receptive to others’ attempts to create these fun and lighthearted situations for them. They gravitate most to people who are interested in their opinions and understanding of things, but are also skilled at organizing social interactions and creating a sense of emotional unity.
ive recently consciously experienced the feeling of duality for the first time since i've been communicating with my mom's high school classmate, and it is definitely a real thing. i even remember mom pointing out she noticed when we were all talking on the phone over a year ago that i perked up whenever he said stuff. here is how i explained it:
its bonkers how only once i experience something for myself i’m able to explain in detail what makes it so great based on what my impressions about it were because i tend to have a peculiar way of describing the qualities of an experience. my specialty is deep precision in my analogies for what it’s like. so now i can tell you how conversations with your dual feel… heres the status report. it’s weightless. its so strange. like the topic conversation stretches into infinity that you can pick right back up at any time. it’s hazy and unfocused but still pleasant (unless you’re particularly self-conscious and need to unlearn hiding your true self). but the best parts of it come when you have a specific issue or insecurity that comes with being your most natural self that the world seems to misunderstand about you, or just not give you what you don't even know you’ve been looking for. i think you might mutually intimidate each other at first because you're lowkey both expecting to be made fun of for your inadequacy with certain types of information that the other is nuanced with (and you’re not), but it never comes. you don't feel like what your dual wants in life is wrong. your dual seems so talented in all the ways you hope to shine but you’re always unsure of. for the introvert (me) wishing they felt their own active presence as an object (Se, Ne, Te, Fe) like the extravert does. for the extravert, wishing they felt their own relationships with other objects (Si, Ni, Ti, Fi) like the introvert does. any other intertype relationship (ITR) vs. duality is like the difference between 99% and 100% totality of a solar eclipse, except it’s the level of understanding with another person, like the eclipsing of your own information metabolism with theirs. of course there are other things that influence how well your relationship with this person goes, but i am talking strictly about when it comes to basic communication, the level of understanding you share. sometimes it might feel like you dont have much to talk about or the topic is unfocused, because you two ARE opposites in many ways after all, especially at a glance (domain of interests usually come with specific macroelements. theories about thought structures—like socionics, for instance—are in the domain of intuition, while physical interests and experiences are in the domain of sensorics.) i’m LII in the NT club (researchers) and my dual ESE in the SF club (social-communicative). so they’re constantly providing you with information from their own niche in life that you may be entirely unfamiliar with, but for some reason still interests and relaxes you to hear. you might not feel like you have a lot to say about the topic since but you are fully amazed by this person’s activity. it also makes you feel more sure of yourself and more confident that people truly appreciate and need your natural abilities.
> let’s break it down
here’s some lightly modified descriptions of the information blocks in LII and ESE's information metabolism models from pyatnitsky so you can get an overarching impression of how their type contributes to the informational sphere. i added some of my own adjustments and borrowed some sentences from stratiyevskaya's descriptions. additionally, you can click on the name of the block for an explanation of the role it plays.
i put about a week’s work into these collages but my goal with them was to actually show where i think these information blocks are most pertinent in these characters specifically and where they apply so it’s not just some abstract thing, just as supplementary examples as needed. (for the meaning of these information elements individually you can refer to cysia’s document.)
LII (Logical-intuitive introvert)
EGO (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Analytical thinking. They are well aware of the interrelationships of some objects or phenomena with others, and what laws are in effect or not in effect. On the basis of a comprehensive analysis, they put forward insights about the global essence of specific objects and phenomena, their possibilities. They acutely charge the situation with potential energy. For every situation, there is an archetype.
Super-EGO (-Fi? -> -Se!). Normative ideas about relationships between people and ways to get out of unpleasant ethical situations. Understands ethics as founded on the principles of fairness; to do to one side of the equation that you do to the other. Volitional manifestations in order to protect their living space are carried out only on the basis of personal experience. Because of the limited opportunities to fight back, they react painfully to attempts of any interference in his life. Does not respond to any arbitrary crudeness or volitional pressuring. Does not compromise goals, stubbornly clings to them. Avoids direct confrontation if possible, would rather talk civilly and earnestly. Uses their naturally strong sense of the conditioning of objects over time to avoid collisions with their material interests. Due to this, they may appear as someone with very little weaknesses.
Super-ID (+Fe -> +Si?) Attracts information about a good mood, a specific positive state, or a feeling. They would like to think that they can eliminate serious inconveniences, make the environment around them more comfortable. This skill needs to be evaluated. They are unconsciously activated when there is a need to make the environment more comfortable, which should lead to a better state, raise the mood at least in the immediate environment. In friendly, comfortable, and informal company, their cool exterior thaws and they start lighting up with joviality.
ID (+Te! → +Ni?). Has developed guidelines and methods that relate to specific practical activities, technological effectiveness, and resource use. Spontaneously feels the correct allocation of resources over time, which allows them to effectively solve tasks at an unhurried pace. This pace is deeply rational in nature.
ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert)
EGO (+Fe! -> +Si?). Perception of the world is fundamentally emotional. Feels the emotional atmosphere well in any situation, knows the relevance of the way of expression, the place and weight (importance) of the internal state in each situation. Flexible approach to solving problems of managing and expressing emotions. They show bright emotionality both negative and positive. Creatively produces around themself comfort, coziness, conveniently arranges space, surrounds others with beautiful things, changing thereby the general condition and mood. Usually opinionated about their tastes.
(wow i really went all out on that this one that tumblr wont even display it in full resolution, so here. john just has so many more lines to choose from, sorry!)
Super-EGO (+Te! -> +Ni?). Practical and technological thinking is tightly based on acquired knowledge and patterns of solving similar problems. Methods of business activity in both general and specific areas are selected based on the opinion of reputable sources, or adjusted to one of the mastered templates. Predicting specific changes in the sphere of their interests is carried out only on the basis of personal experience. He is not able to compare his own method of forecasting with others, so he is sensitive to criticism of poor timing or deadlines, does not like situations that feel like a waste of his time; he is lost in connection with negative events. Guided by purely personal experience, he chooses specific times and deadlines for various tasks with a normative understanding of business activity in general.
Super-ID (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Attracts information about the order, specific logical relationships in the field of activity or interests. Needs someone to suggest specific ways to make connections between phenomena, patterns, and rules. Tries to be reasonable himself, even though he knows that this is not characteristic of him. Sometimes he openly talks of his actions that were poorly reasoned through, as if inviting other people to laugh at his thoughtlessness. The ordering and systematization of thought opens up a new way of understanding of events that are happening around him, as well as new prospects, potential, and capabilities. He likes to think that he understands the essence of a situation and lights up with new ideas. This skill needs to be evaluated. It is unconsciously activated when it is necessary to create order, clear consistency and clarity on a particular issue, especially if their abilities are recognized.
ID (-Fi? -> -Se!). Involuntarily keeps track of communications in their social circle. Without hesitation, they use a variety of ways to establish and maintain relationships that have been developed in his personal practice. Good relationships are important for personal inner confidence in a situation. To prevent unfavorable relationships, they are inclined, often without even realizing it, to act with pressure, forcing a showdown, forcing the partner to change the relationship for the better. Frequently demonstrates his resoluteness, persistence, and purposefulness, as if proposing his behavior as a model for imitation. Usually tells in much detail what obstacles were created before him, and how he overcame them, what he was told in response, and what he replied with, and so on and in the like.
(full res)
you might be able to see already how they would complement each other's thought process nicely. here are some descriptions of what the communication between these types is like:
+Fe! : program function of ESE and dual-seeking function of LII
The ESE periodically tells emotionally charged "program" function stories, telling of how somebody has acted and what they have done. The main orientation of ESE's leading ethical program is: "No one should be offended." The LII carefully listens to these statements, and, demonstrating a full understanding of these issues, develops logical basis for them, e.g. in calm persuasive voice he explains how the ESE has acted justly and fairly. The effusion of turbulent emotions coming from the ESE is counterbalanced by their absorption by the LII, who breaks them down into fragments by asking clarifying questions of the ESE.
-Ti? : dual-seeking function of ESE and program function of LII
The ESE is tuned to accepting information when it's relayed in clear logical form. He issues requests for logical explanations delivered from a point of view of generalized rules underpinning specific life events, which he receives from the LII, who delivers clear unambiguous interpretations, places the dots over all "i's", and demonstrates good understanding of problems that are of concern to the ESE. Not receiving information of this kind, the ESE begins making demands of those around him to be "intelligent" and understand the reasons of his actions.
-Ne! : activating function of ESE and creative function of LII
The ESE feels uncomfortable if he doesn't extend his help to people who are in need of it. His subconscious orientation is: "care and guard the talented", be kind and attentive towards other people. The LII usually meets such criteria by proving in action his aptitude at uncovering hidden capabilities, winning trust, passing on the knowledge. The ESE creates supportive conditions for people who are capable but lacking in assertive "push-through" qualities, among whom the LII finds himself, and a special work regime that protects such individuals from overloads on sensing functions. Newly discovered possibilities inspire and promote the pragmatic and business-oriented activities of the ESE. He can support a new undertaking or initiative with an enormous amount of energy and enthusiasm, light up by new ideas. Only the LII is able to, even having a vague general notion about the subject, construct a developed theory or idea of any issue. This theory shows to be promising in the process of its concrete application within its field.
+Si? : creative function of ESE and activating function of LII
LII tries to take care of their well-being, but may gravitate towards demonstrative asceticism, exhaust himself with work, studies, or exercise. The ESE periodically takes care of creating an environment that "charges" the LII with pleasant sensations: a reception of guests, a good meal, a visit to a theater or a concert, an interesting trip, and so on. At the same time the ESE takes pleasure in this himself.
+Te! : role function of ESE and observing function of LII
The role function of the ESE manifests as business-oriented activity and initiative, supplying interesting information, provision with material assistance to those who are in need, general restlessness and fussy busyness. This function is normative, i.e. the ESE seeks to comply with the norms and accepted ways of doing things. The nuancing of the understanding of these norms, i.e. introduction of activities that go beyond them, is possible only by considering LII's advice and recommendations. The LII serves as a director of this function, adjusting its workings by advocating the necessity of practical application of some beneficial ideas, rejection of useless though spectacular ideas, and the need to ensure standards of life not below average by rejection of equalization.
+Ni? : vulnerable function of ESE and demonstrative function of LII
The ESE poorly feels the flow of time, both physical, which manifests as running late and poor distribution of his strengths over time, and historical, which manifests as poor ability to anticipate consequences of actions and tendency for traditional ways of solving problems. The ESE finds it difficult to make radical choices. The LII fully takes this aspect onto his shoulders. He has an unconscious ability to distribute activities in time, thereby avoiding work stress and overloads, and is capable of making a radical choice. The LII is able to calmly wait and in the necessary moment get to work when the wasteful fussiness of the ESE reaches its critical point.
-Fi? : ignoring function of ESE and role function of LII
On this function the ESE gives advice and makes demands concerning the creation of appropriate psychological distances in form of proper behavior, courtesy and politeness, denouncing rudeness and boorishness. In this manner, the ESE adjusts LII's role function, which in itself contains a set of large psychological distances: a sullen stubborn look, unsociability, etc. With such fine-tuning it becomes easier for the LII to come into contact with people, whereby he becomes more animated, resolves many of his ethical problems that previously frightened him, gains greater insight into human relationships and a more accurate understanding as to whose side to take in situations of conflict.
-Se! : demonstrative function of ESE and vulnerable function of LII
The LII finds it very difficult to exert pressure on other people from his own will and initiative, especially in cases when he needs to attain something for himself. He finds this difficult to do - to press ahead in certain situations, to gather all the required paperwork, to stand in lines and queues, to petition for his own interests, even the ones that are of vital importance to him. He finds it difficult to push a person away, to sharply refuse someone, to quarrel loudly and defend his rights, to put an end to relations that have exhausted themselves. The ESE doesn't directly affect this function, i.e. he doesn't verbally criticize and teach the LII on this aspect, but takes over its functioning completely. The ESE exerts a constant, sometimes intrusive and imposing pressure on other people if there is a need to achieve something, to defend justice and demand fair treatment, to protect interests of those who are close and dear to him. The ESE goes to the right jurisdictions, inspires people around him and directs them towards work and purposeful activity, keeps up a high pace of life himself, and breaks off relations with those who don't deserve trust.
and some miscellaneous excerpts from literature i liked a lot. (i can't remember the sources i used since i've been working on this on and off, for the past week and i was just spilling things onto the post. i think stratiyevskaya?):
Mood - that’s what matters in this dyad - emotions and feelings. Anything that suppresses and overshadows good mood is considered unethical in this dyad and is strongly condemned.
The ESE does not allow the LII to limit him in the possibilities of consuming the amount of pleasures and joys, which he considers to be necessary and sufficient. Fortunately, both partners in the dyad - LII and ESE - are obstinate and unyielding. Both are demanding, unwilling (and not allowing anyone else) to lower the bar of their requirements, unable to give in and make concessions (especially in anything that is of principle for themselves). Both know how to make their partner reckon with their interests and insist on the fulfillment of their demands.
LII is impressed by the emotional generosity of ESE and his spiritual responsiveness. All this finds the deepest understanding in LII, since he is tuned to the same priorities and values. For his part, ESE admires the ability of LII to speak clearly and definitely on every issue. ESE is struck by the harmony of the reasoning of LII, the amazing clarity, accuracy and laconicism of his statements. To ESE it seems that for LII, there is nothing incomprehensible in this world; he can give a comprehensive explanation on every issue. And everything that ESE thought about before is gradually being built into a definite and clear system of views, which he can now very freely and naturally present. Confusion and chaos in his worldview gradually gives way to a stable logical order, as if someone patient and careful was sorting all his thoughts into shelves. Such clarity inspires and activates ESE; he begins to see some prospects for himself, new opportunities. His energy and activity, in addition to emotional and ethical expression, also receives sensory realization: ESE begins to take care of LII and carefully looks after him. If LII is a colleague with whom ESE is especially pleasant to communicate with, he begins to treat him with something tasty, homemade; will make some small, but beautiful and necessary gift (for example: new cologne or a warm scarf).
> okay that's great and all but when are we talking about john and aradia specifically?
yes, that was the point of this post. i just had to build all that up first so i could walk you through my thoughts in a fully substantiated way.
considering chronology of wind again, john doesnt realize it but he needs aradias frankness and insight. even if she’s unable to explicate on vague things, she states the reason why instead of making him feel stupid (it would create a doomed timeline) but thats all john needs to hear. she is self-effacing and only tells him the truth, and we know other people can take advantage of john’s suggestibility in this way. aradia tells john who is or isnt trustworthy, what actions would be useful/necessary and which ones wont, without any selfish personal motive a la vriska or terezi.
^ (juuuust the record my nitpicky ass doesn’t agree with the truth of the classpect interpretation on behalf of the author in the last bit BUT that is beside the point here. the point is that she is answering john’s question in a way that is meaningful for him)
aradia doesnt realize it but she needs john’s friendy goofiness to brighten her up because she is surrounded by people who antagonize her when she’s literally not even trying to get under anyones skin. everybody gets frustrated at her “spooky nonsense” because theyre afraid of their own mortality, basically telling her to put a lid on it because thinking about hard truths makes THEM personally uncomfortable. but to her it’s always just been a fact of life. plugging your ears to reality is ignorance, but at the same time that doesn’t mean there’s no meaning in anything. she wants to help people see this and she dedicates herself to becoming a psychopomp for the deceased and earnestly trying to make people feel emotionally and physically comfortable in their situation through exploring their memories.
john isn’t hostile towards her. by being herself she is immediately able to earn john’s trust when they initially talk. this is also true in canon; the one time they talked when john initially comes up to her, saying “can i ask you something? seem reasonable, and pretty nice.” unfortunately he asked her the one question she didn’t have much to say about, and i can’t blame him for expecting all the troll girls to be basically insane at that point. but i don’t think aradia is insane. yes she is odd, but i think it’s evident that she has a good head on her shoulders with knowledge of the way the universe around her works, and in the end wants to simply bask in watching it play out. i think she deserves to get childishly excited about it, especially considering she was dead for most of her developmental years.
aside from getting his answers answered, john shows curiosity about her and her species and even care about her well-being and state. this naturally comes from their conversation’s ebb and flow. aradia tells this straightforwardly, without bells and whistles and without trying to trick him, unlike the other trolls who seem keen on well..trolling him.. and providing him with unclear answers to those sorts things. maybe aside from vriska, but she did have a little bit of an attitude about it wherein her and john’s dynamic felt uneven or off-rhythm, with a large psychological distance. it’s a different feeling with aradia, however. they exchange information on the same rhythm and so are able to achieve a closer psychological distance in communication.
there are no judgments coming from aradia about john being “stupid”. she doesn’t underestimate him. it’s not just that john wants to understand (although he does), but he needs to understand what he is doing. aradia compliments john about the traits he possesses that allow him to be effective. i guess in a way i’m doing the same thing with john right now.
john is so mobile and strung along by being the action hero going from place to place as a can-do deliveryboy that he never has time to reflect on his losses, think through them, and accept them.
literally who else is more qualified in all of homestuck than aradia for talking to john about these things?
on top of all of this, they have objectively significant connections beyond just mutual self-realization in a way i think could've been fleshed out. there is potential here.
for a story, i can think of a way that a conversation between them could plausibly happen using the systems established in homestuck's mythology. in canon, we see that john never met aradia until year 3 on the golden battleship in the dream bubbles when he goes to sleep.
but john still dreamt out in the furthest ring. that means during those 3 years it was possible for john to have had a dream with her in it, or at least aradiabot. i know john didn't know aradia's name beforehand but let's just explore the possibility that they could have had met before that. remember that all these aradiabots were once this person.
aradia had obtained john's crosbytop, his dads hat, and his wallet quite a while before their sgrub session. theres your entry
imagine john seeing that
memories of dear old dad get stirred up through the link of seeing those items
the dream bubble transforms
john is forced to stand in his memories and explore grief and the meaning of life with aradia
physically being in the space around him would definitely help john reflect easier i think because it will force him to actually exist within the space and talk to someone, taking some time out for this. he wanted to know if anything could've been done or if he was just too late to save them. i know aradia would be able help him slow down and introspect. don't forget the opportunities created by the properties of these spaces that are glubbed out in the furthest ring by the horrorterrors that meld the labyrinthine time and space of their surroundings to the memories of the people and finding others through common points in memory. i would imagine that objects known by multiple people would provide a common point in memory to bring them together.
The bubbles allow the players of Sburb/Sgrub who have lost a life to continue dreaming. The reality constructed in the bubbles is a combination of the memories of everyone inside the bubble accessible to any who has learned the bubble's nature. According to Aradia, it would be quite difficult to exit a bubble to get into a new one, however someone inside a bubble can travel to another one through common points in memory, taking their own memories with them to be integrated into the new bubble. These memories mix and combine, but in general, no new memories are created. Additionally, the bubbles store the consciousness of a player who has lost their dream selves and their original selves, making them double as a form of afterlife; the player is then capable of accessing the memory of anyone else who has gained access to the bubbles. Living players, who have lost or become their dream selves, appear in the dream bubbles when they are asleep. It is in this fashion that the bubbles can be used as meeting places between the dead and the living; even those from alternate universes and doomed timelines can be found in a bubble. Furthermore, in addition to memories, the bubbles can to some extent reflect the thoughts of a player. Beyond that, the bubbles can also behave similarly to Skaia's clouds, showing things that are in some way relevant to the player - such as when coin-flip Dave saw alpha Dave grieving over Bro's corpse - something he was not aware of before being shown it by a bubble.
physically reflect the thoughts of the player…… rubs hands
john and aradia share points in memory related to those objects, and to top it all of they are directly related to john's dad on the same day he died, while aradia grew up with them as bizarre alien artifacts from an archeological dig. the memories are more emotionally charged for john, and i think that distinction would probably be relevant to them both.
to be honest i think after speaking with him for a bit she would readily tell john that she regrets not talking to the kids from the universe her team created sooner before she died, but is glad that she can in the afterlife. in canon, alpha aradia told a doomed dave, "i think its absurd i never introduced myself to you in all that time i spent moping around the lab. guess i wasnt in a very good mood".
now not all the aradiabots would know who john is, because the trolls only found out about the humans once they created the genesis frog and hid out in the lab in the veil from jack who infiltrated their session. the aradiabot in the lab was the last one that survived. so if any one of them would know who john is, it would be the aradiabot that exploded. aradia's dream self ascended to god tier in jack noir's rampage on trolls' derse and took those memories with her which we can assume is what made the last aradiabot explode. its known that any original copy that dies when another rises up becomes a ghost and lives on in the dream bubbles, which would include her. a doomed aradiabot we see in the comic, which was the one that originally landed to alternia in the past, becomes more lighthearted after she dies, a bit more like her alive counterpart.
oh yeah, and the more obvious surface-level connections to top it off? ghostbusters? john ain't afraid of no ghost girl. john would be genuinely interested in what aradia living as a ghost irl on her planet and not as a gaming abstraction in the furthest ring would be like. i imagine she would be able to explain the subjective experience and that she had to prototype herself into the kernelsprite order for her server player to see her. there's also no way john hasn't seen a movie as classic as indiana jones and judging from her poster i can imagine he probably thinks it's sweet that aradia's strife specibus whipkind is a reflection of her own personal tastes, interests and hobbies.
so yeah i've just been chewing on all of this and thinking about it but i know i needed to just get this out there somehow. obviously since i spent two weeks putting this post together i'd be happy to hear your thoughts
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A3! Magazine Interview Translation - B’s-LOG March 2024 [Cover Boys Interview]
The true faces of today’s flourishing young actors
This month’s cover features Hyodo Kumon & Izumida Azami. Azami didn’t have any particular school he wanted to go to. So when Kumon invited over him to Tsukushi High School, the two became senior and junior. The two of them show close they are by walking to and from school and eating lunch on the rooftop together.
We bring you a newly written interview that provides a closer glimpse of their true faces.
*Please read disclaimer on blog
---
Q: Do you have anything that’s been important to you since childhood?
Kumon: Since childhood, huh~? Ah! I thought of something!
Azami: What is it?
Kumon: A home run ball from my favourite baseball player! One day when I was little, I was watching a game at the stadium. While I was cheering as hard as I could, it flew right by me and I caught it.
Azami: Oh, that’s pretty amazin’. That’s not something you can get no matter how many times you go.
Kumon: Exactly! Do you have anything like that, Azami?
Azami: I’ve… always had a cheek brush with me. It’s kinda like my good luck charm.
Kumon: Ooh, right. I know which one you’re talking about!
Azami: Yeah, I’ve used it on you before.
Q: Would you rather be called “cool” or “cute”?
Kumon: I’d definitely be happier being called cool! You’re the same right, Azami!?
Azami: If it’s between those two choices, then I guess it doesn’t really matter what you call me. But I don’t like it when people call me cute to tease me. I hope they'll quit doing that.
Kumon: Now that you mention it, Azuma-san calls you cute every now and then, right? Like it’s so cute and innocent how you immediately get embarrassed whenever you talk about love.
Azami: That’s why I keep tellin’ him to quit it.
Kumon: That doesn’t make you happy?
Azami: Azuma-san is totally just makin’ fun of me.
Kumon: Eh~? I don’t think he’s teasing you though. I think he genuinely means it.
Q: Tell us the truth. Are you actually a scaredy-cat?
Azami: Nah, not really.
Kumon: Me neither! Actually, Azami and I went to a haunted house together the other day!
Azami: Right, Kumon said he wanted to go to one outta nowhere.
Kumon: I thought it’d be interesting so I invited Azami and we went right away. That haunted house was loads of fun!
Azami: Well. I guess I’m glad I went since I could use their makeup as reference.
Kumon: Maybe I’ll go with Summer troupe next time!? Ah, I wonder if they’d come though…
Azami: It wouldn’t hurt to try invitin’ them. …I can’t say for sure that all the members would go though.
Q: How would you confess? In-person, by phone, or by LIME?
Azami: H-HUH!? Who the hell would answer that!!
Kumon: It’s fine, it’s fiiine! By the way, I’d do it face-to-face for sure! I’d like to see their face as I tell them and make sure I'm getting my feelings across properly.
Azami: …I see.
Kumon: C’mon, Azami. How about you?
Azami: I’m not gonna say. Lay off me! Get to the next question already!
Kumon: I sure wonder when we’re gonna get to hear Azami talk about this stuff~.
Q: When you’re on a date… would you hold hands, link arms, or do something else?
Azami: Another question like this? You gotta be kidding me!
Kumon: Now, now. Chill out, Azami! Considering the distance with my girlfriend… I guess I’d like to hold hands. But I bet both are out for Azami! So for him, it’d be “something else”?
Azami: Hey, why’re you answering for me without askin’?
Kumon: I knew you wouldn’t answer so I figured I’d say something for you!
Azami: This isn’t somethin’ you talk about with other people!
Kumon: You weren’t saying anything though. You gotta give an answer here! For the Azami in my mind, I don't think he’d be interested in doing PDA outside—or rather, I don’t think he’d be able to do it in the first place… Ah, you see, Azami’s a serious guy! But I’m sure there’s someone out there who’ll say they like that about you!
Azami: Uh, why am I being encouraged right now…?
Kumon:: Anywho, what do you really think? Did my answer hit it out of the park?
Azami: Urk, don’t fricken ask me! No comment!
---
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Please tell me about your Eminence in Shadow!SY AU, that sounds really interesting and badass
Okay, so, in case you don’t know “Eminence in Shadow” is a reincarnation, isekai anime where a guy named Cid Kageno ends up in a world with magic. He likes playing as “Background Character A” by day and being “The Eminence in Shadow” by night. I was watching this anime and while I was watching, I felt like Cid and Shen Yuan were a lot alike. (I’ve only watched the anime which only has two seasons, so anything beyond that in the manga I have no idea about)
Now, onto the idea (I og had this written out as a prompt and then thought, huh, this might actually be fun to write, so just…didn’t post the prompt. I think I’ll come back later and post an actual prompt for this though. But, I'm literally just copy/pasting what I already wrote for this.)
Imagine, Shen Yuan transmigrates into Background Character A in PIDW, and, just like Cid, throws himself into the role. He just wants to get through the plot without drawing attention to himself so he can avoid Bingge's ire. But! But! This is Shen Yuan who has always dreamed of transmigrating into this type of story. How can he just pass up the chance of becoming a cool cultivator??? He can't, that's how! So then, how does one remain Background Character A while also being a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator? By acting out his role as Background Character A during the day and growing his power to become a cool cultivator in secret! That's how!
He'll spend his days idling and playing his role as Just Some Guy to perfection, but in secret, he'll hone his cultivator abilities, slay monsters, study demonic beasts, and live out his cultivator fantasy! He transmigrates early, maybe as a baby, and uses all his knowledge of reading PIDW and other cultivation stories to work out how to cultivate in secret. He won't interfere with the plot, making sure he blends into the background so as not to draw attention to himself, and will be able to survive the merging of the realms with his cultivation abilities when that time eventually comes.
But, of course, this is Shen Yuan we're talking about. He stumbles his way into trouble and wifebeams people. He plays up his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act like Shadow/Cid does and ends up amassing his own Shadow Garden (harem of highly trained women dedicated to Shadow and his cause, for those of you who haven't seen Eminence in Shadow) but the gay xianxia version. We're gonna get Zhuzhi-Lang, Liu Qingge, ect. But, just like Shadow/Cid, Shen Yuan does not realize he has amassed this massive harem who would literally do anything for him and have created an entire clandestine organization (that's really more of an empire) with him as the head. He thinks they're all just Really Good Friends who are helping him live out his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator dreams.
Just like Shadow/Cid bullshits the Cult of Diablo, Shen Yuan is gonna bullshit his own stuff. And, just like with Shadow/Cid's stuff, Shen Yuan's words are gonna turn out to be true. I'm thinking he ends up uncovering all the corruption and drama surrounding the Old Palace Master and Huan Hua Palace. It'll probably end up being a whole big thing and once they start digging, they just find more and more sects, companies, people, etc. involved in this. Part of the corruption and wrong-doings they find, is a lot of provoking of demons. Shen Yuan, of course, knows none of this, and always ends up on the outskirts of the investigations bullshitting some Wise Nonsense that has everyone in awe before kicking the Bad Guy's butt, not knowing what's Really Going On.
He remains oblivious to all the Drama going on and what he's leaving in his wake. One thing he is absolutely certain he must do is Keep A Low Profile and remain Background Character A, so all his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator adventures are done in secret and he makes sure that his version of Shadow Garden knows that This Is SECRET!! Do Not Tell. shhhh.
Just like in Eminence in Shadow, Shen Yuan's harem (that he still doesn't know is his harem) venture out on their own to gather more people to add to the harem join their cause.
Shen Yuan had to have met Liu Qingge before he entered CQMS. Maybe Shen Yuan's Background Family is from the same village/city the Liu Family is from and so they grew up in the same social circle. When Liu Qingge eventually goes to join CQMS Shen Yuan sighs and thinks What a good guy, playing with me all this time. Now he's off to be a Great Cultivator himself. I hope we can still see each other again sometime. Not at all knowing that Liu Qingge has the BIGGEST crush on him and once in CQMS is trying to recruit more people to join Shen Yuan's harem organization. He probably convinces at least half of the future Qing generation in time as well as many disciples from various peaks. It helps when on a couple night-hunts Shen Yuan, in Mysterious And Cool Cultivator mode, showed up out of nowhere and solved the problem like a Wise Immortal and effectively wifebeaming all present.
For Zhuzhi-Lang, Shen Yuan definitely found him hurt and cooed over him, nursing him back to health. Eventually Zhuzhi-Lang had to return to the Demon Realm and Tianlang-jun, but tells Tianlang-jun about the Nice Human Cultivator who took care of him. Tianlang-jun clocks Zhuzhi-Lang's crush immediately, and tells him that he can go woo his human all he wants as long as it doesn't interfere with work, and also, he would like to meet this human.
Shen Yuan nearly has a heart attack when the DEMON EMPEROR (and Luo Binghe's father!! Ahhh!) shows up at his house to invite him to a picnic (thankfully no one else saw this so his cover as Background Character A is still in check). He doesn't turn him down though, that would be stupid, Tianlang-jun could kill him in a heartbeat if he offended him. So, he goes on the picnic. Tianlang-jun thanks him for taking such good care of his nephew, and Zhuzhi-Lang is a blushing mess the entire time. Tianlang-jun as being Tianlang-jun keeps trying to set Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-lang up. Shen Yuan laughs it off. Clearly Tianlang-jun is quite the jokester and eternally flamboyant (and you know how Tianlang-jun is), and thinks all his suggestive comments are just his weird sense of humor. Tianglang-jun is most definitely trying to get both Zhuzhi-Lang and himself into Shen Yuan's pants. Shen Yuan is, of course, oblivious to this.
After the picnic Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang leave but have secured invitation from Shen Yuan to return as they please so long as they keep it hush hush. Zhuzhi-Lang will actually visit a lot and spend a lot of time in tiny snake form curled up around Shen Yuan's arm under his sleeve or in his robes. Shen Yuan idly pets and strokes him, feeling the cool texture of his scales without thinking about it. When he does realize, Zhuzhi-Lang tells him that it's fine and he can keep petting him as much as he wants. Sometimes people will see Shen Yuan, Background Character A, with a green snake on his arm, or in his robes, or draped across his shoulders, but never really think too much about it, thinking he just has a normal pet snake.
Since this initial meeting, there are a lot more snakes around the Shen Estate, and Shen Yuan's parents tell him to get it under control, thinking that his pet snake is attracting them. Shen Yuan apologizes and says he will. Zhuzhi-Lang then tells his snake underlings to hide better. They were there to make sure Shen Yuan was safe, not get him in trouble.
When Zhuzhi-Lang is back in the Demon Realm he talks about Shen Yuan. He also knows about the Mysterious And Cool Cultivator thing and is also trying to recruit demons to his harem cause. Tianlang-jun knows about this and is fine with it. He's long decided that he's gonna get Shen Yuan into his bed family service and so him having his own underlings and support of demons would only make it easier to do so down the road.
Despite Shen Yuan's meddling, the Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan thing still happens and the Old Palace Master stuff leading to Tianlang-jun being sealed. Even with Shen Yuan and his harem friends taking down branches of corruption, they weren't able to take down the Old Palace Master (not yet at least). So, that whole Fiasco happens. Shen Yuan feels guilty about it. Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang had become his friends and he knew what was coming. He was confused though because Tianlang-jun did not seem like he was trying to take over the Human Realm and that was why he was sealed. Maybe the System finally decided to pop in and say he couldn't interfere in it, and that some things just had to happen for plot reasons (like with the Endless Abyss). Or, Maybe Shen Yuan didn't see it coming, thinking that he had somehow influenced Tianlang-jun to not want to invade the Human Realm, not knowing that it had always been a lie and set up, the truth never being revealed in PIDW.
Zhuzhi-Lang flees to Shen Yuan, hurt from the attack, and, of course, Shen Yuan accepts him even in his half snake, half humanoid form. It took him a moment, but then he recognized it was Zhuzhi-Lang by his eyes and tended his wounds (again). Zhuzhi-Lang tells him the story of what he and Tianlang-jun believe to be true. By the time he's well enough to do that though, Shen Yuan isn't able to do anything about Su Xiyan's situation. She's already long vanished. Shen Yuan also decides that once Bailu Forest isn't under such careful observation after Tianlang-Jun's sealing, he'll go see the man with Zhuzhi-Lang to see what his state is. Despite it all and Tianlang-jun's...unique personality, Shen Yuan still considers him a friend and wants to help where he can.
It, unfortunately, takes a while for things to cool down around Bailu Mountain and then again to find a way to Tianlang-jun's prison without setting off any alarms. By the time Shen Yuan finally sees Tianlang-jun again, years have passed. He's alive, but not in a great state what with being crushed under a mountain and all. Shen Yuan is in awe of the resilience of Heavenly Demons. When Tianlang-jun sees Shen Yuan he's like "ah, if it's the only human who hasn't betrayed me. What brings you to this place?" all casually. Shen Yuan actually brought him some trashy books and food that he knew Tianlang-jun would like and Tianlang-jun is overjoyed by it. You wouldn't even think he was being squished under a mountain with how happy he was.
Shen Yuan works with Zhuzhi-Lang to figure out how to get Tianlang-jun out, but only after he makes Tianlang-jun promise not to slaughter everyone (probably saying some Wise Nonsense, but is really just trying to get Tianlang-jun to not obliterate humanity). Tianlang-jun pouts, but does. Shen Yuan appeases him by getting him more trashy books and human paraphernalia. During this time, Shen Yuan mentions (intentionally) that he heard rumors that Su Xiyan may be pregnant—Shen Yuan doesn’t think Tianlang-jun’s as interested as he should be in this development; this is Luo Binghe after all—and also that he thinks there’s more to this than they originally thought. Tianlang-jun’s attention is then fully shifted from killing all humans except Shen Yuan, to figuring out what’s going on because hm, you’re right, A-Yuan, this doesn’t make much sense.
With Shen Yuan also working on how to get Tianlang-jun out, Zhuzhi-Lang is able to go back to the Demon Realm to keep things in order. At least to an extent. They keep the fact that they’re trying to free Tianlang-jun a secret bc you never know where there are eyes and ears. Shen Yuan helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep his more humanoid appearance since Tianlang-jun isn’t able to, so that helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep the demons under control, but doesn’t help a whole lot. Things still kinda fall apart there. Shen Yuan’s harem organization is still holding up there and work in secret despite the shakiness in the Demon Realm and the demons in it even use the political uncertainty to their advantage to gain more power.
Maybe Shen Yuan figures out how to make the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom compatible with demonic qi or maybe he finds another solution. But, either way, he gets Tianlang-jun’s soul out from under the mountain. There is just one caveat of this new body. It must grow from infanthood again at a normal rate. They grow the body, and then Tianlang-jun’s soul pops over to it when it’s a baby, freeing him from his prison. Since the Demon Realm has grown unstable and Tianlang-jun is in a vulnerable state, they decide that the best and safest course of action is for Shen Yuan to keep Tianlang-jun in his care. So, Shen Yuan returns home with baby Tianlang-jun claiming the baby’s his. What better place to hide than in Background Family A, after all? Shen Yuan’s been doing it for decades at this point and thinks it’s the perfect way of living. Thankfully, Tianlang-jun, despite being a baby, does still know how to control his demonic qi, and is able to hide it, making himself appear like a normal human baby.
When the rest of Shen Yuan’s harem Friends find out about “his baby” they’re all seething in jealousy wondering who the mother is. (gender neutral use of the term “mother” here. That harem is definitely trying to figure out how to have Shen Yuan’s baby or get Shen Yuan to have their baby) They also start seething in jealousy over the baby itself bc Shen Yuan is doting on him to the max. He’s holding and rocking him, soothing him, patting him, feeding him, cooing over him, ect. Shen Yuan just can’t get over how cute baby Tianlang-jun is, and is wondering what baby Bingge looked like. (By this point, Binghe’s already entered CQMS)
Every time Liu Qingge leaves the sect to go on a night-hunt, he always stops by the Shen Estate to see Shen Yuan and drop off some monster head/part for him. Shen Yuan always greets him with a smile and thanks him, but asks if dropping the bloody carcass in the entry hall was really necessary. Who’s gonna clean this all up, Liu-didi, hm? Be nicer to the servants! Don’t make unnecessary work for them! The first time Liu Qingge sees the baby, he’s doing this. Shen Yuan comes out to meet him with the baby in his arms, and the sight of Shen Yuan holding a baby, smiling at him, and welcoming him back makes his brain blank for a long moment.
Shen Yuan either is super vague about the baby!Tianlang-jun’s mom or has a super detailed background story ready to go. It’s a bit of a minor scandal in the way that all bastards are, but Background Family Father A is happy to get a grandson from Shen Yuan.
As baby!Tianlang-jun grows up, he gets super smug about having Shen Yuan as his dad and attention. He’s good at playing his role as a little kid around others, but then in private just acts like his usual self, lounging around like the emperor he is, reading scandalous smut, and saying all his suggestive and lucious things. When the members of Shen Yuan’s harem Shen Yuan’s friends show up, he always plays up the act and gets Shen Yuan to let him sit in his lap, pet his hair, snuggle against his side, or something. Shen Yuan’s harem friends swear that the kid knows what he’s doing, but can only chug vinegar in silence bc it’s Shen Yuan’s son. Tianlang-jun is loving having Shen Yuan as his dad, being the only one to call him “daddy” or “baba” or “a-die” or such and has Shen Yuan curled around his finger with his cuteness. (He’s long stopped trying to get into Shen Yuan’s pants and is much happier being his adoptive son. He is still trying to set up Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-Lang though.)
Because of Shen Yuan’s interference, Liu Qingge either doesn’t have that deadly qi deviation, or is stable enough that when Shen Qingqiu tries to help him with it, is actually able to help. So, Liu Qingge lives.
When Luo Bingge is finally out of the Endless Abyss and is working his way through conquering the Demon Realm, he starts to slowly find out about this vast and secret organization that’s in control of so much. Digging deeper, he’s able to uncover that it spans into the Human Realm and includes some well respected and high class cultivators too. Luo Bingge tries to wriggle out who the leader is, but everyone is so tightlipped and elusive that he’s actually having trouble finding info out. It drives him mad. Xin Mo is also capitalizing on this obsession. Luo Bingge can’t be the indisputable Emperor of all if there’s some shadow organization pulling the strings behind the scenes. Shen Yuan, however, is blissfully unaware that he’s caught the attention of Luo Bingge, still thinking he’s successfully flown under the radar, and tells his harem Friends to avoid getting on Luo Binghe’s bad side and to help him however they can, hoping that this will get those that would have died as canon fodder in Bingge’s rise to greatness to be able to survive it. This just drives Luo Bingge even more up the wall bc he doesn’t know why this secret organization is deciding to back him in everything and so he doesn’t know their motives and so he can’t use those motives to his advantage and so he doesn’t have absolute control!
When he does finally get a member of the harem organization to talk to him, they just say “Our master is wise. He sees potential in you. Do not squander our master’s good will.” because when they asked why Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan said something like “I believe he’s destined for greatness. I want to see the world he creates.” or “He has great promise. I want to see what he does.” all sage like while internally panicking, hoping that that was vague enough so they don’t continue to ask why he wants to help this random demon that he’s never met. This answer does not help to assuage Bingge’s unease at this secret organization and their secret leader, and only makes it worse bc how does this man know Luo Binghe well enough to know his POTENTIAL!?!?! But he can’t ask the person more bc they vanished from their cell after Luo Bingge was called away on urgent business. And, they also somehow have a way to counteract his blood parasites. Bingge is seriously losing it over this. (He doesn’t know about Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun, and I’m sure they both know a lot more about Heavenly Demon abilities and how to counteract them than Bingge does)
Shen Yuan and his harem friends end up leading Bingge through the Demon and Human Realms with mind games and wild goose chases, every adventure leading to Bingge gaining more power. Shen Yuan eventually learns that he’s caught Bingge’s eye and hopes that this all will show that Shen Yuan is a friend and not a foe. See! He’s helping you gain power, Bingge!! We’re not enemies!!
Luo Bingge is not put at ease by this and every encounter with the harem organization is just leaving him more frazzled. Eventually Shen Yuan and Luo Bingge meet on one of these crazy adventures when Shen Yuan had to get involved, Shen Yuan in his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act, and disguised so that even a Heavenly Demon and the protagonist won’t be able to recognize him. (Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun helped him test his disguise out) Shen Yuan spouts more of his Wise Nonsense at Luo Binghe to make Luo Binghe see that they’re on Bingge’s side before vanishing without a trace. After every time, Luo Bingge screams and levels some stuff in frustration. He still doesn’t know what these people are after! How are they so elusive!?
Because of all this, Luo Binghe’s plans to infiltrate Huan Hua Palace and destroy Cang Qiong Mountain Sect are put on hold. He doesn’t know exactly how far this secret organization's power reaches, but he can’t go in blind with such a big power behind the scenes. He does know that the secret organization has reaches in CQMS, but doesn’t know how deep (Liu Qingge’s been hard at work there and all of Bai Zhan is under Shen Yuan’s command along with over half of the other peaks. Shang Qinghua is freaking out because he didn’t write this!!! Who the fuck is that guy!?!? Why is he rivaling Bingge!?!?! And, WHY IS HE WINNING!?!?!? Bingge’s supposed to reign supreme, not some rando he never even wrote! He’s wondering if he maybe wrote out this idea while high as fuck and delusional with sleep depravation which is why he doesn’t remember it, but he knows he wouldn’t do that even at his most addled bc Bingge is supposed to be unrivaled. That’s why he scrapped the Tianlang-jun vs Bingge idea.)
Bingge gets so caught up in paranoia over this secret organization and not knowing whose a part of it and who's not and what they really want that he’s not negating Xin Mo with dual cultivation bc are the women part of the organization? Are they in on it? What do they want? What do they gain by sleeping with me? So his control is slipping.
It’s also during this time that the harem organization start getting closer to Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master. Their progress is helped when Shen Yuan, during a friendly get together with one of the high ranking members of his harem organization his Friends, he accidentally slips that he’s wondering the validity of the Old Palace Master’s claims of Tianlang-jun wanting to invade the Human Realm and the story of what’s really going on there. The harem organization takes his words as Shen Yuan telling them to look into this matter, so they set their sights fully on Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master.
Not long later, they uncover the Truth, and clear Tianlang-jun’s name, dragging the Old Palace Master’s through the mud. Tianlang-jun, hearing about this, swoops in and kills a whole bunch of Huan Hua Palace high ranking members and the Old Palace Master along with a bunch of other powerful people involved in the cover up and mess. The organization, at seeing the gruesome slaughter, are at first horrified bc who has this kind of power to slip past the organization's defenses and do this? But, then someone spots Tianlang-jun slipping away, recognizes him as Shen Yuan’s son, and concludes that Shen Yuan was the one to do this. Later, at another friendly get together with Shen Yuan, one of them vaguely mentions the slaughter, subtly asking if Shen Yuan knew of it and even more subtly inquiring if he was the one to do it. Shen Yuan, knowing that Tianlang-jun was the one to do it and just got finished burning the bloody robes Tianlang-jun had come back in after reprimanding him to be more careful what if someone saw you???, doesn’t pick up on this at all and is instead trying to divert attention away from them, says something vague back which only confirms in the organizations mind that Shen Yuan was the one who did it. With their firm belief that Shen Yuan knows what’s best, even if they initially thought the execution was horrific, they believe that they had deserved it if Shen Yuan would resort to such tactics.
The organization sweeps in and helps clean the mess up, CQMS and other sects and businesses affiliated with Shen Yuan and the organization distribute Huan Hua Palace’s wealth and territory, gaining more influence. Luo Binghe hears about all this, and poking around some more, finds that the organization was behind this. The fact that this clandestine organization was able to take down such a well established and reputable sect like Huan Hua Palace only sets him more on edge about them. If they can do that, they could also dethrone him too, couldn’t they?? Just because they haven't outright opposed him yet doesn’t mean they won’t. He cannot trust such a powerful organization.
Eventually, Bingge tracks down Shen Yuan and, in a great show like in Hua Yue City, Shen Yuan has to pull the “self-destruct for you” card to stop Bingge’s qi deviation while saying more Wise And Meaningful Nonsense that has Bingge realizing that this guy was really on his side. This entire time, this guy has had unwavering faith in him and his abilities. This entire time, he’s had his whole organization working to help him in any way possible simply because of that. That this entire time, his only motive was to see what Bingge would become, see the world he creates, and for him to be happy. And now he can’t even do that. Because he’s dead. For Luo Binghe’s sake!!
And, Binghe…
Binghe just can’t take it. He hasn’t had someone so staunchly on his side since his mother died when he was little. He starts bawling. He can’t help it. He hasn’t cried in so long, and he just can’t stop the tears. They just keep coming, a heartbreaking wail from his mouth, while he hugs the dead body to his chest.
Other members of Shen Yuan’s harem organization that watched the whole thing stay standing around this scene, some tears falling from their eyes too, not able to believe that Shen Yuan is really dead. Liu Qingge, and others, are getting ready to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Yuan’s body, but before more fighting can break out, Tianlang-jun struts in with Zhuzhi-Lang following meekly behind him. The harem organization members that don’t know about the truth are shocked and scared bc they were supposed to get Shen Yuan’s son away from this chaos and protect him from Luo Binghe. But, Tianlang-jun (whose like a teenager or something by this point) just ignores everyone’s shouts and deftly evades their protective grabs for him, waking straight up to the still bawling Binghe.
See, Tianlang-jun is not nearly as oblivious as Shen Yuan is—he’s the exact opposite really—so he clocked Luo Binghe starting to fall for Shen Yuan a while ago, captivated by the challenge and mind games that Shen Yuan was playing with him, and is staunchly knowing that Luo Binghe won’t attack them again.
“Luo Binghe, do not fear,” he starts seriously, then breaks out in a massive grin and gives him a thumbs up, “we have contingency plans in case of death! Many of them!” Because of course they do. They’ve long secured the Sun And Moon Dew Mushroom Seeds and started growing them to Shen Yuan’s body. Tianlang-jun also still has access to the Holy Mausoleum and the Resurrection Chamber. And, with both Shen Yuan’s PIDW knowledge and Tianlang-jun’s and with his resources, they have a vast variety of back up bodies and plans for many different circumstances. It is also revealed that this is Tianlang-jun and literally no one is surprised by this development. Of course Shen Yuan’s son is the last Demon Emperor who’s supposed to be sealed under a mountain. It also made some of them “understand” why Shen Yuan had been so ruthless in his execution of the Old Palace Master and others since they now knew he had a personal interest in the matter.
When Shen Yuan wakes up, he’s immediately tackled by a sobbing Luo Binghe who places a big, fat, wet kiss on his mouth. He tries to reel back, but Luo Binghe has him in a death grip, so he can only stare wide-eyed at Luo Binghe until he pulls back to keep sobbing against his chest. Those of the harem organization that were there were furious at this bc barely any of them have kissed Shen Yuan and they’ve been in his harem service longer!! And, instead of shoving Luo Binghe away, Shen Yuan hugs him closer and pats his head, trying to calm him down, whispering that “No, Binghe, I won’t go anywhere. Yes, I can stay with you. Please don’t apologize, Binghe, this isn’t your fault. I should have done better to make you see I was on your side. You’ve done nothing wrong.” and so on.
After this, Shen Yuan is no longer able to maintain his cover as Background Character A, but that’s okay because he only kept it so he wouldn’t get taken out as Bingge’s rival or something. Since Binghe is on his side, he can live his whole life as a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator, living out his transmigration dreams unhindered! But, Binghe, what do you mean you’re making me Empress of the Demon Realm? I’m a man! I can’t be your Empress! Pick a pretty girl for that if you want one! Tianlang-jun, why are you laughing!? Why are you supporting this!?
Binghe convinces Shen Yuan to marry him by presenting it as a political marriage since Shen Yuan is in control of so much, and if he wants Luo Binghe to be the Emperor of it all (which he knows Shen Yuan wants) then they really need to be married and Shen Yuan made Empress for his reign to be undisputed. Shen Yuan eventually figures it out, and by that point he’s also figuring out that he actually has feelings for a lot of his “friends.” Well, it’s a good thing they all want to marry him too.
There are a long line of weddings after this as so many of Shen Yuan’s friends harem demand to be formally married. Binghe fights for position of First Husband. And wins. Because of course he does.
Luo Binghe has pretty much lost interest in his own harem (which was still pretty small and shrinking when he decided to kick women out for fear they were part of the organization), and becomes nonexistent after his marriage to Shen Yuan. It’s not a problem though, because Tianlang-jun, Shen Yuan, and Shang Qinghua pull resources and knowledge to nullify Xin Mo’s effect on him, so his harem is obsolete anyway.
—Later, once things are settled, probably:
SQH: bro, wtf? You haremed my harem novel.
SY: 🤷
I just feel like Shen Yuan and Cid are so similar. They both curate their role in their new transmigration life, bullshit through so much by spouting wise nonsense, and making people fall for them left and right while being totally oblivious. Shen Yuan just gives Cid levels of oblivious vibes.
I’m not super feeling my svsss fics right now, so I don’t think I’m gonna write on them and just close the tabs for now. Idk. I’ll prbly come back to this later at some point, but 🤷♀️ Hoped you enjoyed this 😊
If anyone has any ideas for what to call sy's version of Shadow Garden, let me know. I was feeling stuck on that part, but like I said, I don't know when I'll come back to this.
#scum villain self saving system#svsss#shen yuan#liu qingge#luo binghe#tianlang jun#zhuzhi lang#the eminence in shadow#svsss au#my wips#my writing#my fanfiction#ask game#wip ask game
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What's your favorite scary movie? ghostface! Toji Fushiguro x Reader
TAGS: Serial killer, corn maze, halloween, made up characters as readers friends, SMUT , unprotected, probably bad writing tbh (this was written in 2023, it’s been a year.) p in v, (i do not have experience in this field unfortunately so maybe not how it would feel) virginity loss - NOT PROOF READ!!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
You step out of your car into the eerie night, the grass brushing against your ankles. The cold air rushes past your body, making you shiver. You aren’t the biggest fan of this kind of stuff, but your friends wanted to go somewhere over the weekend, and since you miraculously finished all your work this week, you agreed.
“Wait, are you guys fine leaving around, like, 8:30?” your friend, Himari hushes.
“Yeah, sure, but I kind of wanted to stay longer,” you say back, starting to walk towards the gates.
“Okay, but like, I’m still kind of paranoid because of all that Ghostface shit going around. I just don’t want to take any chances, y’know?”
You turn around and face the car, where Himari and your other friend, Keishi, are standing.
“Oh my god, if you keep mentioning it, then it’s actually gonna happen. You’ll be fine,” Keishi assures her. You nod at Himari with a slight smile. He yanks Himari by her wrist as you push open the gates of the pumpkin patch.
The sun’s glow reflects off of the field, making the lackluster grass look golden. The end of the sky fades into a deep saffron. There are a lot of people, but it isn’t too loud. You breathe in, take in the sight, and then exhale. After you pay for your tickets, you look back at your friends.
“Okay! So, what should we do first?” You ask, eyeing the seemingly endless rows of corn across from you. There’s an arch with a big sign on it that says Haunted Corn Maze at the beginning of the pathway.
“Ooh, we should do that!” Keishi exclaims, lightly jogging towards the entrance. You and Himari glance at each other before you follow suit.
At the entrance, there’s a wooden A-frame chalkboard with a handful of warnings and disclaimers. Keishi struts up to it, and begins to read.
“Warning: the Haunted Corn Maze is not for the faint of heart. Those who suffer from seizures, asthma, heart conditions, or any physical, mental, or respiratory conditions should not enter. Anyone who enters understands that there may be dangers or hazards– okay I’m not reading all of that. Let’s just go in, I didn’t see anything on their website about it being super scary anyways.”
The three of you start to walk down the path, but you aren’t aware of the critical mistake you’ve all just made.
At the bottom of the chalkboard is written in bold letters: On October 1, 2, and 3, The Haunted Corn Maze will be closed from 7:30-11:00 PM for maintenance.
It’s 7:04, but you sure as hell won’t be leaving for a while.
…
You, Keishi, and Himari, have been walking for a good 20 minutes, running into a few scare actors. It’s gotten darker now, making it harder to stay together. The noise of fake chainsaws not only irritate you, but sometimes drown out the sound of your friends’ voices. As you’re trying to get through the maze, an announcement airs over the speakers.
“Greetings, visitors! We hope you’re having a spooktastic time, this is just a reminder that the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Again, the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Thank you for your cooperation, and we hope you have a good rest of your evening!”
Oh, shit.
“...You have got to be fucking joking,” Himari says in a stern voice. You all stare at each other, then start desperately trying to find a solution.
“Should we call for help… I swear to god I didn’t know… oh my god… are we really stuck… just finish the maze…”
You all agree that you should just try to find the exit as fast as you can, and if you can’t then at least help will find you. You and your friends start running slowly down the path, panting. It’s gonna take a fucking while for help to arrive, and you don’t want any random people trying to scare you in this anxious state–
Oh. Speak of the devil.
As you turn the corner, you see someone wearing a black robe holding a prop knife. It’s weird, they’re just facing the end of the aisle, which is a dead end. You groan loudly, realizing you have to go back, when the person turns around. The turn is curiously slow. Now, you can see they’re wearing a mask, a Ghostface mask.
“Hah, Himari, you were right, there is a serial killer,” you sneer. You squint at the figure, trying to inspect them a bit harder, but they start to move their arm, raising the knife, and–
“Oh my fucking god, it’s an actual serial killer!” Himari screams. The knife barely flew past her.
“Himari, calm down, it’s just a prop… see–” You swear, trying to calm her down. Her arms squeeze around you as Keishi approaches the knife. His shaky hands try to cover his mouth, but he’s gawking.
“N-no, it’s real.” The air turns even colder. You feel sick, like you’re going to puke, but you feel so horribly bare inside. You’re gasping for air, but it feels suffocating somehow. You’d think that your fight or flight instincts would kick in with a situation like this, but you’re just frozen. No way. No fucking way is this real.
“Oh– oh my god, run!” Keishi wails, holding onto both you and Himari as you try to get away. Any color in Himari’s face has completely faded at this point, and Keishi looks so distraught, which hurts to see, comparing it to his usual demeanor. Do something, idiot. Anything, it doesn’t matter, just please do something. You throw yourself away from your friends and take a shaky breath.
“D-don’t,” you choke, “don’t get near my friends, bitch!” You sob, clawing pathetically at the hunting knife on the ground. You didn’t realize how scarily far the knife was thrown, until now. The figure takes a firm, sharp step.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!” Himari yells. You’re glad she’s still conscious.
“I-I don’t… I don’t know, just hurry!” You yell back. It’s true, you don’t know what you’re doing, but at least you’re trying to do something, right?
“Are you sure about this?!”
“Just go! I’ll keep him off for now, just get help, okay?” It’s hilarious, really– because you and your friends are all bawling your eyes out, how the hell are you gonna make it out of here?
Keishi and Himari look back at you before scurrying away frantically. The person in black takes another step towards you. Are you terrified? Probably. Do you think you can beat this guy who’s a foot taller than you? Probably not. Are you still going to try and protect your friends? Of course.
“How cute,” the man in black coos, his voice muffled by the mask. You’re both taking one step at a time, waiting for the other to act. You blink, and before you know it, he’s almost right in front of you. You hurl the knife at his torso, and then run as fast as you humanly can.
…
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been stuck in this shithole, but it’s definitely been a while; the fatigue is really starting to settle in now. Constantly running around while still trying to keep quiet is excruciatingly difficult, especially when you’re being hunted down by a serial killer. You think you’ve finally lost him. It’s completely dark out now, and you’ve finally accepted that nobody is going to come looking for you. I mean, they would have found you by now, right? You wonder where Himari and Keishi are. It would kind of defeat the whole point of this if they were still stuck in the maze too. You reach into your back pocket for your phone, but there’s nothing there. You reach into the other pocket, but there’s still nothing. Shit, did it fall out while you were running?–
“I feel bad for you, you’re so oblivious it’s almost charming.”
There he is.
In his left hand is the knife from earlier. It’s covered in blood. He must’ve pulled it out. In his right hand is your phone.
“W–what– how did–” You didn’t even realize that you had fallen backwards. Get off your ass, do some–
“Are these your little friends, sweetheart?” He shows you the– oh god– 28 missed calls from you and your friends’ group chat. You haven’t been able to get reception until now, how ridiculous. You don’t have time to mope though, you need to get away from this psycho.
“What do you want?” Your voice is strangled but still fierce. He cocks his head to the side, then looks back at the phone.
“Hm, they’re calling again,” he shrugs nonchalantly. You stare at him, terrified. How could he sound so normal about this? You start to get up, but then quickly realize it's a dead end. Fuck. He starts to walk towards you. You decide that if he comes at you, you'll try and escape from the side.
You run towards the open space on his left. His arm moves towards your neck, the bloody knife brushing against your collarbone.
“There's nowhere to go, doll.”
He pushes you down, quickly straddling you so you can't move.
“Why don’t we pick up the phone?” He questions, and you swear you can hear the grin in his voice. What a sly motherfucker. You throw your hands up, trying to get him away from you– not like it's gonna help, he's clearly built. He drops the phone to hold both of your arms together. The other hand quickly slides the knife up to your neck. “Answer the phone, and let your friends know you made it out safely, and that you're okay. Or I’ll slit your throat right now, got it?” His deep, scratchy voice shivers down your spine. You frantically nod your head yes, pleading for your life. “That's what I thought–” the phone rings. “Perfect. Now once I let go of your arms, don't fight back. You won't win.” You were too scared to, now. If you tried, who knows where the knife would end up.
He lets go of your arms, grabbing the phone and answering it. He puts it on speaker, holding it up between you two. It's still closer to you, and the mic side is facing you.
“Oh my god! You're alive!” Himari cries out with relief. You catch your breath.
“Yeah, I got out,” you say, trying to stabilize your shaky voice.
“Why weren’t you answering your phone? We were about to call the cops,” Keishi lectures you.
“I, uh– sorry, the reception was bad and then my phone died. I'm okay now,” you reassure them. You really wish you were.
“Alright good, stay safe, we love you!” Himari says in a loving tone.
‘Wait, guys–” they had already hung up, but you hadn't realized and kept speaking. “Please, he has me– please!” you scream out. You start sobbing, you're done for. Why did you do that?
“Oohh, you stupid bitch.” He throws your phone. The knife that was just held up to your neck is now in his pocket.
“No! No! Please! They didn't hear me!” You hiccup mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from sobbing. “I'm so sorry! Please, please! I don't wanna die! Please!” you're hysterical. His hand goes to your neck. Right now, he's just holding it.
“Would you shut the fuck up? Im not fucking killing you, yet,” he spits out at you.
His hand adjusts around your neck. For some reason he doesn't want to get rid of you. There's just something about you. He makes sure he puts pressure on the right spot, just to knock you out.
“No! No! I'm so sorry!” You shriek out. He starts to squeeze your neck, and you instinctively bring your hands up to try and take him off. He grips both of your hands again. You’re gasping for air. You're starting to feel funny. Your vision is blurry. You– you can't get any more air.
…
Cold. It’s a lot colder than before. Am I dead? Where am I?
Youre propped up on a chair. Your arms are behind you, tied together by something, whatever it is, it's cold, you assume it's handcuffs? Don't know. Surprisingly you can see.
What about your legs? Can you move them? No. you can't. They're stuck around the chairs legs.
You aren't able to talk, there's tape on your mouth.
Your visions still blurry, but you’re trying to decipher where you are. Its dark, maybe a basement?
Clearly its not your house, so whos is it-
Then, all the memories came flooding in of what happened before you blacked out.
Fuck.
You hear somebody walking down the stairs. This time, zero robe. Is this sick fuck seriously wearing a tanktop and sweatpants? Still that stupid ass mask. You notice the bandage near where you stabbed him before.
Your face is soaked in tears and you're breathing so loudly. Your heart beat is so loud. The silence breaks when you hear a deep chuckle.
'`Pretty girls awake, huh?” he mocks you. He walks toward you and crouches down. “Oh yeahh, cant talk, can you?..kay’ gimme a sec.”
Why is he talking to you like he didn't just kidnap you??
His hand approaches your face. You close your eyes. He gets a grip on the tape and rips it off fast. It comes off smoother due to your tears. You feel the light burning sensation and whimper. “Get the fuck away from me.” you quietly spoke.
He scoffs at you. “Nah. Don't worry. You'll be gone soon.” Why does he say it in an assuring tone? Does he expect you to feel better? “Huh???” you start panicking. This can't be happening. He gets up and walks behind you. You follow him with your head as he starts to unlock your cuffs. The tight, cold metal around your wrists is gone. “My knife is in my pocket. Dont fuck with me.” he tells you fiercely. You nod, if obeying him keeps you alive longer, you'll take it.
Youre free, he got your legs undone. His back is facing you, while he stands only a few feet away. This is your chance! Go!
You spring up and the second the chair creeked his heels turn and he pushes you towards the ground.
You crash on the cement floor. Your knees automatically ache. He gets on the ground and flips you on your back.
You are fighting back with everything you got. Moving your arms so he cant grab them. While he tries to keep your legs down, you knock off his mask. Holy fuck.
His raven hair thats not too messy is revealed. His face and gorgeous green eyes. How is a serial killer, so attractive?
His mouth curls up, you notice a scar on it as he does. He scoffs. Fuck, you are so done, now. Your mouth opens a little from eyeing his face up and down. “You fucking little bitch. Now I really gotta get rid of ya, huh?” he says with a chuckle, acting like it's some sick joke. No, no. you really are gonna die. “Please. Please.” His hand wraps around your neck to pick you up. He leans closer to you. Only a few inches away from your face. “How should I kill you? Hm?” his head leans to the side as he has a small grin.
Why are you finding the man that wants to kill you attractive?
“No please. Please. I just graduated college! I have a life to live for! Please! I have so much left to do before I’d even die. Please!” you sob out. Tears coming out again.
“Yeah?” he lowers his mouth to your ear, “Like what?” he questions.
Your eyes widen in disgust, he's seriously asking about your future?
You stammer, “Uh- I, are you serious?” it was scary to ask, but you didnt wanna piss him off.
“Yeah.” He moves his head and is staring deeply into your eyes, “Why don't you tell me things you haven't done yet, or what you're planning? Gotta know what you'll miss out on, once I kill you.” he snickers at you.
Your eyes widen in horror. That word, kill. You’re gonna die.
“Uh. I mean” you breathe out shakingly, “I guess get a steady job?..and, nevermind. Finally get a boyfriend,” you really didn't understand why you were honestly telling him this, “I don't know-”
“Nuh uh. Go back, you know you were gonna say something before that, doll.” he coos.
That nickname. Now that you've seen his face, and you hate to admit it, it did something to you.
“I wasn’t.” you gulp. You both knew it was a lie.
“You know I didn't believe that for one second.” He takes his knife out and you flinch, “don't worry, i ain't doing anything, yet.” he sneers. “So what was it? Your first kiss?” he starts fidgeting with his knife and his eyes light up, “Oohh, orrr.. are you still a virg-”
“No!” you cut him off. Obviously, that was what you were going to say, but there was no point in telling the man who's going to kill you that you are.
“Got ya!! Not very good at being secretive, hm?” he smirks.
He starts to eye you down, stopping where he straddled you. You take the chance to eye him down too. The way his shirt hugs his body. You gotta admit, he makes you wet. Your eyes run down to the tent in his pants. Is he hard?
“So, you just really dont wanna die a virgin?” he asks
Your cheeks light up in a pink shade. “Why does it matter?” you shoot a question back at him.
“Ehh, dunno. Personally I wouldnt mind a quick fuck, ‘specially with a pretty girl like you.” that nasty, but very attractive smirk, appears on his face again.
You break eye contact.
Was he attractive? Fuck yes. Would you fuck him in a heartbeat? Definitely. Isn't he planning to kill you? Yep.
“Tell ya what,” He does a swift move with the knife, “If you let me fuck you, we’ll both get something out of it. You’ll lose your virginity you are so worried about, and I’ll possibly spare your life if its good. Andd, hopefully I’ll get a good fuck. Deal?” He looks you up and down.
Fuck. You mean, you'd do anything to live. And if he wasn't your killer you would accept his offer right away.
“Will I actually live?” you wonder, for all you know he might just stab you mid fuck.
“Probably. Hopefully that wet cunt of yours is good.” he winks
“Fine. Will it hurt..?” you squint while asking, he chuckles, “ehh, you decide once you see my cock. But first, I want you to suck it. You bite and I slit your throat, ‘kay?”
You've never sucked cock. You can barely swallow a pill. You try to remember all those stupid things Himari told you once after she gave a few guys head.
You nod at him and he gets off of you. Knife in hand. You watch as he takes his sweatpants off, revealing the large bulge in his boxers. Then, he removes them. Your eyes widen. You've seen porn a few times, and you knew, this was big. He lets out a light laugh.
He sits on the chair you were on a few moments ago, queueing you to come towards him.
Your knees still hurt so badly, so as pathetic as it was, you crawl towards him.
As you get between his legs, you get on your knees and wrap your hand around his cock.
You start to stroke it up and down, spitting on it to help you lube it up. Not sure what to do, you kiss the tip, letting go with a pop noise. Circling his tip with your tongue, he grabs a handful of your hair with his hand gripping it. “That's good. Better start sucking it.” he pants out. His dick spilling with a little of precum still.
You let more spit dangle out of your mouth onto his dick and put your mouth on it. Starting to slide farther down his dick until you gag, you were gonna move back up until he pushes you down and starts bobbing your head up and down. Tears start to brickle out of your eyes and stream down your face. Remembering, you take your and stroke the part that isn't in your mouth. You play with his balls a little, hopefully not doing anything wrong. You stare up into his eyes as they fill with tears from gagging.
“Fuck, youre a fuckin’ slut arent you? You know how to work that mouth.” he grunts
You start stroking more and he loosens his grip on your hair as you start to bob your head past you limit by yourself. “I’m gonna cum. And it's going in your mouth.” and when he says that, you swear you almost heard a whimper. You rest your hands on his knees, your head moves up and you circle his tip with your tongue one last time and put it far down your throat again.
His dick twitches as he unleashes a load inside your throat. Without a single thought, you move your head away and swallow it. Why did you enjoy it? “Haha, swallowed it like it was nothing. This really your first time?” he breathes out, trying to get down from his high. His dick is still hard.
“That was good. Can't make any promises on your life though till I fuck that cunt.” he has a smirk on his face.
You hated how badly you wanted to have this man fuck you.
He stands up avoiding hitting you as you're still kneeled in front of the chair. You look to the side as if offers a hand to help you up. You question whether or not he's actually gonna help you up, but you take the chance and you're standing up.
Once you're standing up you barely have a second to look up at his eyes staring into yours before he roughly pushes you against the wall. He pins you down, cupping your face and roughly kissing you. He forces his tongue into your mouth as one of his hands start to run down to your boob, circling around your nipple.
He bites your lip and sucks on it before he releases and his lips move back a little, a string of salvia following him. He quickly moves down to your neck, you whimper as he bites down then quickly sucking on it. You try to contain you moans but between him playing with your nipple and sucking on your neck, you couldn't.
He takes his knife and cuts down the middle of your shirt quickly revealing your bra.
He rips off the rest of it and undoes your bra, letting your boobs fall out.
He removes his mouth from your neck and starts to suck on your sensitive nipple while his other hand rubs the other one.
“Fuck~” you moan out. His low breathless chuckle vibrates against your nipple which makes you squirm more. You don't want this to end. You bring your hand to his cock, starting to jerk him off, you move up and down a few times until he unhooks his mouth from your boob and starts to take your pants off, ripping your panties off with them.
He exams your panties, “Fuckin’ wet, huh?” He throws them to the ground and plays with your clit but soonly he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist, letting you lean against the wall.
He slides his cock up and down gathering your slick to help it go in easier, smirking when you shiver every time your clit and his tip make contact.
“Please-mmmph. Please be careful, I've never,” you try speaking but he pushes his tip in slightly, “Yeah, yeah. Your first fucking time or what not. Does it look like I give two shits?” he thrusts all of it in in one go. You scream out in pleasure and pain. The burn. Hes so deep, you swear you practically feel him in your stomach. Holy shit.
“Fuuuuckkkkk..you're sucking me in so good.” he groans and his eye roll back as he throws his head back. He waits a few seconds until he starts thrusting in at a slightly fast pace. “Mmpp..- feels soo good!” you moan out unable to hold it back. The pain you felt before is totally gone.
You've tried to touch yourself before, but you could never reach where he's reaching right now. So many spots you never knew would feel good. He dick kept hitting that exact spot that made you see stars each time. “Godd, you're so fuckin’ tight. You gotta stop squeezing me like that, doll. You'll make me never wanna get out.” he manages to get out between breaths.
He picks his pace up making your tits jiggle at the same time. As he thrust in, he pushes you into a powerful kiss and forces his tongue in, smashing into yours. He pulls away from your mouth slightly and sucks on your lip, leaving a ticklish feeling, but it doesn't last long as bites down on it causing you to whimper and clench around him. “Hm? You liked that huh?” he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, raven hair strands sticking to his forehead. His eyes were so beautiful to look at, they were a beautiful green shade.
He continues thrusting but goes harder, deeper hitting that same spot over and over again. You start to clench more as he quickened his pace again. You couldn't grasp how he had so much stamina.
“I-i…fuckk.. Please. harder. “ You knew you were close to cumming. “So close..mmppp!” you cry out. “Shiitt. Me too.” he grunts, starting to somehow go harder then he was. The sound of your body's colliding echoing throughout the room, both of your moans syncing with his thrusts. He goes harder, you were seeing stars. You couldn't believe you were losing your virginity to the man who wanted to kill you, the man who is the serial killer, Ghostface. “Cum-ughhhfuck.. Cumming!!” you scream out, your cum gushing around his cock. He continues thrusting as your orgasm, until only a few seconds later he cums inside of you.
You both are coming down from your high, catching your breath. “Was it good? Am I gonna live? Please.” you question.
“Huh? Yeah. That was really fucking good. You'll live, but I want you around for a while with me."
written by me and @ems-interlude !!
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TBOB PART 3: OF BILL'S SOLITUDE AND BILLFORD (1/3)
What can I say? I’ve always loved the canon ship in almost every fandom I was in.
Welcome, everyone. Welcome to the third part of my endless rambling about Bill Cipher, The Book of Bill and Gravity Falls in general. Now it’s time for the ship, so sit back and relax, because there is a lot to talk about here.
Yes, I was one of the people who shipped these two eight years ago. And I shipped them as soon as I finished watching the series, because… well, there was more than enough proof that something was going on between them.
Unfortunately, the mentality at the time was “Bill tries to kill Dipper as soon as he has the chance? True love. One trillion proofs that Ford and Bill have something going on? How dare you think that, you are a Bad Person™”.
And yes, I know I could’ve written one post years ago and tried to explain Billford back then but… it would’ve been so, so tiresome. Especially considering that pedophilia was a-okay, but Billford shippers were terrible people Because Yes.
But hey, times change, people change and TBOB gives us enough proofs even a blind person can see them. So. it’s finally time to extensively talk about this ship - this time, from Bill’s point of view.
(For the disclaimer and everything else, refer to the first post. And read the previous ones too, if you like! They will help you understand some things I take for granted here.)
<- Previoust post - Masterlist
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Billford has always been canon
The thing is: now as then, Billford has never been a ship about “and they ended up happily ever after”. There was never an intent to glorify abuse or to say that Bill and Ford had the healthiest relationship and everyone should have the same.
What was so captivating of this ship was the tragedy of it. The clearly evident infatuation. The obsession these two had for each other.
This is what pushed people (me included) to ship them: because it’s interesting. The dramatic possibilities, the angst, how deeply an obsession can go to the point you lose yourself to your partner… and yes, of course also the interesting images that can come up by imagining such different beings having something physical (if you’re not a coward and give Bill a human form). It’s not the typical fluff with a couple being lovey-dovey 24/7: it’s a lot more. There is a lot that can be explored. It’s wonderfully challenging, both on the writing plane and purely mentally.
… and yes, it's funny for crack and parodies. These two being cringe and pathetic or married and divorced at the same time is always funny.
Sure, at first we had just the show to support this ship. But oh boy, if there weren’t enough proofs already:
Ford’s house was filled to the brim with images, pictures and stuff of Bill. His goddamn windows are triangular-shaped. Not even the Vatican is filled with so many images of God - and I can assure you the windows are not Jesus-shaped.
Ford made a deal with Bill to be together “from now until the end of time”. Until the end of time. That’s basically a marriage, only even more extreme, because fuck death, we will be together until the last supernova evaporates. And before you ask: yes, it takes such a stupidly long amount of time, it’s bonkers. That’s real infatuation.
Ford consensually gave his body to Bill for possession. Just imagine the sheer trust you need to surrender your whole self to someone else. Not even a married couple can reach this level of trust. And definitely not “just friends”. Maybe BDSM couples can come a bit closer to what these two had.
As soon as Ford returned home after 30 years, Bill greeted him in a dream, called him “his old pal” and was all nice and friendly. No hard feelings, no reprimands, nothing but flattery and threats because, as we learned from TBOB, these two things go together in his head.
Bill asked Ford to join him 200 times more or less.
Bill gave Ford 200 nicknames more or less.
During Weirdmageddon, right after Ford tried to kill him with one of the things that could’ve destroyed him (the quantum destabilizer), Bill welcomed him with a smile, offered him a place among his freaks for the umpteenth time and, when Ford refused again, he turned him into his literal golden trophy wife and carried him around.
By comparison, when Preston Northwest offered his help, Bill shuffled the function of every hole in his face and ignored him completely right after.
Also: Ford tries to shoot me and fails by sheer luck? Please please please, be one of my freaks. Dipper tries to throw me a punch that will literally do nothing? Death. Bill doesn’t have double standards, nope nope.
To convince Ford to give him the equation, Bill’s first thought is to bring Ford into a private suite, serenade him and ask him to join him for… what? The 220th time?
When Ford refuses, Bill puts chains on him in the kinkiest possible way known to mankind, with an iconic image that screams of BDSM.
Somehow, all of this wasn’t enough. And so, we had Journal 3, in which:
Ford called Bill “his Muse”. Oh, my mistake: he called Bill “his blessed Muse”.
Literally lavishes Bill with compliments. So. Many. Compliments.
Says Bill will “seduce” you with never-ending flattery. Interesting verb choice here, Ford, are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell us?
Ford named a constellation after his Muse.
Once he went through the portal, instead of hiding away forever and good luck finding him, Ford held a 30-years-old grudge and decided HE would’ve killed Bill, no one else. That’s not a simple obsession between friends.
But after all of this, something was still missing.
Until now, it was quite certain that Ford had a COLOSSAL obsession about Bill. The religious fervor, the sheer trust, the depth of his grudge all made it very clear that Bill carved a deeply rooted place in his heart and mind - a place he kept for most of Ford’s life.
But what about Bill? Did he even care about Ford?
We had no idea. Sure, he showed some kind of care: he gave Ford special treatment during Weirdmageddon and seemed to value him enough to offer him a place among his freaks multiple times.
But when did this care start? Was it just because he needed Ford? What about their pre-betrayal relationship? Did Bill even care before?
The most plausible explanation at the time was that pre-betrayal Bill was simply flattered by Ford’s lavish adoration. Maybe he liked the guy a bit (otherwise, why waste time with him?) and humored him in his fervor, but nothing more than that.
But then the betrayal happened and Ford switched from adoring him to opposing him. He actively ran away, found ways to keep Bill away from his mind and came back with the sole intention of killing him.
At the time, I thought this was the moment when Bill started to be truly interested in Ford. Before Ford was just an adoring pet. Now he was more. Now he was interesting. Now he was worthy.
And that opened the door to even more angst possibilities! If Billford was just a “one-sided relationship” before, now it could’ve been the story of two beings who loved/cared about each other, but at different moments in time: Ford in the past, when Bill didn’t love him yet. And Bill in the present, when Ford wasn’t in love with him anymore. The perfect tragedy, ton of angst, love that.
But now, with TBOB and thisisnotawebsitedotcom, the tragedy that is Billford gets a new, angst layer. A beautiful, angst layer.
Because it’s not that Bill never cared about Ford or cared at the wrong moment in time: Bill cared right from the start.
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Deeply alone
One detail about TBOB that people aren’t talking too much about is the sense of solitude that permeates it. There are parts in which you can literally feel Bill’s loneliness.
One example? The Bill Tells All section. I know it’s supposed to be a funny parody, but it’s also a perfect image of how alone he is. He’s so alone, he has to be host, interviewee and audience at the same time, because no one else is willing to listen or talk to him.
And in light of the information we got about his past, I think this is an extremely important part of Bill’s character and personality.
Let’s come back to Euclydia: the anthem/poem on the website emphasizes how close people are (“LOVED ONES WILL BE EVER NEAR”), so it’s very possible Bill grew up surrounded by his loved ones.
And then, one single event and everyone disappeared. All the people who surrounded him one second ago, were gone the second after. “There was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe.”: if this line means solitude for us, just imagine how much, much stronger that same solitude would be for someone who, until that moment, has always been surrounded by others and knew no other reality than that.
That’s another level of solitude: it’s a black void of emptiness, something all-encompassing and all-consuming. It’s a hole carved inside you that nothing will fill ever again. And it was you, the one who carved it.
Of course Bill became insane. Of course he chose to find a justification for his action, by saying that he liberated his dimension and that his people were holding him back. I don’t know what he would’ve done, if he hadn’t. Probably, he wouldn’t have found a way to survive.
But he survived. He repressed his trauma, justified it and kept going towards the stars he was aiming for.
Still, that void was inside him - and we know he tried to fill it. He tried by dating a literal void, for god’s sake. And he tried by surrounding himself with people.
That’s probably why he became who he is: a flashy, flamboyant figure, someone who loves to be the center of attention, because that means having people around. It means people listening to him and being with him and surrounding him again. It means not being alone again.
I mean, just look at this book: every page has something new and interesting, every page is a different attempt to keep you involved, to keep you around and listen.
But an audience can always leave. An audience can stop being around. And that’s probably why Bill searched for someone closer, someone who wouldn’t leave him so soon.
He searched for new loved ones.
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Love and hate
Bill’s love advice put a real smile on my face, because sure, they’re funny, but at their foundation, they all share the same goal: to show to your potential partner your qualities and how you would be able to carry/provide for them and your offspring.
Why is it so funny? Because that’s exactly what every single living being does to attract a potential mate: showing off your colorful feathers, singing louder than others, fighting other rivals, showing how clever you are, using pheromones and special smells. And, for humans, something like, idk, showing how wide your hips were as proof that you would carry healthy babies. Or showing off how wealthy you are, to prove you can take care of your partner and your offspring.
Bill himself follows this mentality, considering advices like “have two of everything to show your wealth” or “show how much calcium you have (aka how healthy you are)”. Heck, he even has a seduction hat which is basically one huge phallic shape!
And, again, this makes me smile, not just because it’s a clear parody of those men who keep showing off their huge, large vehicles. But also because he usually wears a tall top hat. And how funny it would be, if a tall top hat was indeed a way to win a partner in Euclydia? What if that’s how his father got his mother? Please, I want a fanfic or Mr. Cipher entering a place with a top hat big and wide enough to win Mrs. Cipher’s heart (while not accidentally piercing through another shape). I bet it would be hilarious.
Funny love advice aside, I would also point out these two things Bill says:
Love and fear are right next to each other in the brain and, like most humans, Bill also can’t tell the difference (he doesn’t even think there is a difference)
“love is the pupa stage for hate”
The fact Bill mixes love and fear explains why he is like that in general - and with Ford too. If love and fear are the same thing, then there is no difference between flattering someone and threatening them. There is no difference between partying with his friends and scaring the shit out of them. There’s no difference between helping Ford and hurting him. And there’s no difference between allowing him to see Fordtramarine and “joking” about someone coming to steal his eyes.
Also: if “love is the pupa stage for hate”, then Ford coming back after 30 years hating him was completely normal for Bill. It was just how things were supposed to go: first he loved him, now he hates him. Still, same thing. Still worth a place among his freaks. Still worth flirting. For Bill, nothing has changed - just evolved in a natural way.
And yes, this is uber duper fucked up and great material for toxic Billford. But it also makes me think: how did Bill get this mentality? How did he manage to mix love and fear so much? When did it happen?
Inevitably, I think about Euclydia. And inevitably, I think that “the incident” is when Bill mixed the two things.
When he still lived in Euclydia, Bill clearly experienced both love and hate: his mother at least seemed to love him, the other kids didn’t. Bill doesn’t like his optometrist either and we have no clue about his feelings towards his father. Later in his life, Bill recognizes his family and his world tried to blind him/”snuff out his potential” - so, again, something more similar to hate than love.
Then, Bill destroyed his place. He had to deal with a trauma so huge (i.e. experiencing solitude for the first time in his existence), it left a void inside him. A void he decided to suffocate with lies - lies that, in the end, are just half-truths. His place was bad and his family was holding him back! But that was also the place that showed him love for the first time. His people were flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams! But among them, there was also the one who loved him right from the start.
I believe this is when the two feelings got mixed in his brain. In his attempt to justify and cope with his mixed feelings regarding the universe he just destroyed, Bill ended up mixing love and fear together and believing that love is just one stage of hate. Unable to deal with the vastity of solitude, Bill put together justifications for his actions and messed up his own perception of feelings.
The result is someone who is deeply, deeply alone and who desperately keeps searching for love to fill that void… but is unable to do that, because he cannot distinguish between love and hate anymore.
That’s why he has a lot of exes. And that’s why they’re all exes.
But hey, at least there are friends, right? Right?
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Bill’s friends are full of potential (especially one of them)
The perfect friend for Bill should be:
alone, outcasted, rejected by society, possibly an orphan looking for a purpose in life (so exactly like him)
completely devoted to him
Which you can see by yourself that this isn’t exactly how a friendship should work. The friend exactly like you can still work, but the friend completely devoted to you who should do everything you want… well, that’s not a friend. That’s not even a pet, because even pets do not follow you around with such lavish adoration.
But somehow, in the vastity of the Multiverse, Bill managed to find some friends. And oh boy, what friends:
Pyronica is a beauty queen AND she has a twin sister AND she dated Hectorgon. Cool, but not enough. I need details. But, like, a lot. Her entire story would suffice (maybe).
Amorphous Shape is invisible to most of the Henchmaniacs. How? Why? Who is she, really? Where is she from? Where is her backstory? Why isn’t it here? I need it here.
Hectorgon was a goddamn sheriff and Bill just throws it like that?! I want his backstory too! I want to know everything about him!
Keyhole hates Pyronica? Why? What happened? Where is all the juicy gossip, Bill? We need the gossip!
And most importantly: a certain someone was part of Bill’s gang. Someone with a photo that has been covered, but it’s still partially visible. And as soon as I saw it, I jumped up on my bed and asked: “Wait… is this Jheselbraum?!”
The answer is yes and thisisnotawebsite confirmed it: she was one of Bill’s Henchmaniacs. And now the right question is: how much do you want The Book of Jheselbraum, from 1 to 10?
I mean:
In the partially crossed-out part about her in TBOB, Bill says she figured something related to dimensions
In the shaman page (TBOB) there is a code: WHICH HENCHMANIAC RATTED ME OUT
In Journal 3, Ford has been saved by her, who sucked him out of the 2D world of Exwhylia
Jheselbraum told Ford that Bill’s “thirst for power caused him to destroy his home dimension - including his parents and everyone else he’d ever known” (Journal 3)
Still in Journal 3, Ford says she spoke of Bill “without anger, but with a calm, steely, clinical resolve to see his reign of terror end”.
In addition to that, let me add this part from thisisnotawebsitedotcom under the code TANTRUM:
I KNOW YOUR CRIMES, CIPHER. TAKING A NEW HOME WILL NOT MAKE UP FOR THE ONE YOU’VE LOST. WHAT YOU DID TO THE COUNTLESS SOULS OF EUCLYDIA- Cipher stopped in his tracks. YOU CHOOSE YOUR WORDS VERY. CAREFULLY. Ciphers henchmen murmured amongst each other, confused. They seemed to have heard conflicting stories about Bill’s past. “You said you liberated the people of your dimension-” LIBERATED THEM FROM THEIR BODIES! DONT LISTEN TO HIM! HE’S A BABY!
Can you see how HUGE the potential is?
What I believe for now is that:
Jheselbraum figured out what Bill really did to his home dimension (i.e. destroying everything and not “liberating” it, as he said to his Henchmaniacs)
She started to actively find ways to stop him from doing the same thing again
She “ratted him out” with Bill’s new potential puppets on Earth
Bill found out she didn’t just rat him out, but found out the truth about Euclydia too and that’s what led to her escaping
She settled closer to a 2D world - maybe to learn more about Bill, maybe because she knew Ford would’ve appeared there
And speaking of that, we have the message on thisisnotawebsitedotcom under the code SEVENEYES:
This is something someone else wrote to her. Someone who told her to escape to a crossed-out Dimension (who guesses that the crossed-out thing was the number 52?). Someone who told her it was against the rules, but it was also the only way to escape him (aka Bill).
And from her code, you can find out the other criminals found new homes as well.
In other words, we have a hidden spy story, in which someone helped Jheselbraum escape from Bill and, in turn, she helped all others escape Bill.
If you don’t want a book about her, about her story as Bill’s henchmaniac and about this whole thing, you are a huge. Fucking. Liar.
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And with that, let’s close part 1 of this umpteenth endless analysis. The next one will come soon and it will be all about Billford.
Yes, I know I already talked about Billford here, but we still haven’t talked about the details in TBOB and Bill’s perspective on it. Also, it’s always nice to talk about Billford.
See you soon~
-> Next post
(How about a coffee? ☕)
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